129 AC
The castle of Dragonstone had been plagued with silence for many days.
Aside from a few hushed whispers, naught could be heard. For the losses had been too great, and too fast. Not long before, news had reached Queen Rhaenyra that Princess Rhaenys had fallen at Rook's Rest.
The Princess had been eager to answer Staunton's plea, and took to the Crownlands upon her mount.
Unfortunately, unbeknownst to Rhaenys, the Greens had sprung a trap. Aegon the Usurper and Aemond the Kinslayer had descended upon her and Meleys, atop Sunfyre and Vhagar.
Two against one. A testament to the Greens' bravery, as many claimed, shaking their heads.
The true courage had been that of the Princess Rhaenys, who refused to flea in order to save herself. She and Meleys had fought on for the Blacks' allies at Rook's Rest, and Meleys proved to be more than a match for Sunfyre and Vhagar.
With great difficulty, Rhaenys and her mount had been brought down, and so the Blacks had lost themselves an important ally, as well as a powerful dragon.
Lord Corlys Velaryon had raged at his Queen, accusing her of having sent his wife to her death, insisting that with Jacaerys and Joffrey at her side, the war could have already been finished and Rhaenys would have been alive.
Queen Rhaenyra stood firm and tried to keep the tears from spilling as she took in the Sea Snake's harsh words with dignity.
Of course, she had refused to send her sons to Rook's Rest. She had already lost Luke. She was determined to keep her remaining sons safe, and she would never apologize for that.
The fight between Queen Rhaenyra and Lord Corlys had shaken the Black Council to its core.
They had suffered two great losses in a short span of time. Prince Lucerys Velaryon and Princess Rhaenys Targaryen. And with them, the dragons Arrax and Meleys were gone as well.
And now, there was even enmity within their faction.
Prince Jacaerys had grown worried of what his grandfather would do now that he had lost not only his two children, but his wife as well.
The hushed whispers in the halls these days were that of the Prince of Dragonstone himself, as he attempted, with the aid of Baela, to reason with the Sea Snake, and reconcile him with the Queen.
"I have proposed to Lord Corlys that he become your Hand. If that is acceptable to you, of course, Mother." Prince Jacaerys claimed, as he stood before his mother in her chambers.
Rhaenyra was standing in front of the fireplace, gazing into the flames, as her heart called out for her husband. She missed Daemon terribly.
The Riverlands were the key to winning this war, so of course, as the most feared man in the Realm, Daemon was needed there, to raise arms in her name…but there was much Rhaenyra had to suffer alone. First her dear boy, Luke, and now Rhaenys.
Rhaenys had been such a comfort to her after Luke died. Rhaenyra could never forget that. For those moments when Rhaenys held her in her arms, the Queen had felt as though her mother had returned to her.
"He despises me now, does he not?", the Queen spoke softly of her Velaryon kinsman.
"He is angry. He has a right to be. But his anger should be directed at the ones who murdered his wife. The usurper and his brother." Jacaerys spoke wisely.
"Do you think the Gods have turned their backs on me, Jace?" Rhaenyra asked gently, as she continued to watch the flames.
"What do you mean?", her son asked.
"Do you believe they have come to favour the Greens?" Rhaenyra rephrased her question.
"How can they turn their backs on the rightful Queen of the Seven Kingdoms?"
"We have not had any victories since this war started. A boy murdered as an act of vengeance for the murder of your own brother can hardly be called that. And Harrenhal had been completely defenceless, and as such, easy for Daemon to claim it in my name. We have lost the Baratheons' support, our allies in the Crownlands have been butchered, and we have lost two dragons in a short span of time."
"The Blackwoods have won the first battle in your name." Jacaerys argued.
"The Blackwoods and the Brackens have been at each other's throats for years. Their constant quarrel is well known around the Realm. And this war is simply another opportunity for them to reignite the flames. Having chosen opposing sides makes it that much more satisfying for them."
"Mother…you mustn't blame yourself for Rook's Rest. You had no way of knowing."
"I should have known better than to send Luke to Storm's End. And when I make the decision to protect you and Joffrey, someone else ends up killed."
Jacaerys could only shake his head, in annoyance. He did not agree with his mother one bit. They were fighting a war, and casualties would always exist on both sides. The Greens had just been fortunate up until this moment. But the young prince of five and ten could feel that things would change.
The Gods would begin looking their way, hearing their plight, and grant them the strength to restore the rightful line of succession.
History did not favour usurpers, and Maegor the Cruel was proof of that. He had to kill two of King Aenys' sons in order to secure his false reign. Alas, he had failed to rid himself of the third one, and his viciousness brought about his own downfall. The Iron Throne itself had done away with him.
The same was to happen now. Jacaerys was certain. One way or another, the true line of succession would be restored, and the Greens would pay the price for their greed.
Clearing his throat, Jace decided not to indulge his mother in her self-pity and instead focus on their next move. They still had allies to appease. Lady Jeyne Arryn had agreed to give her support, but she requested a dragon to protect her lands.
Lord Cregan Stark had given them his 'Winter Wolves' for the time being. A group of men, not as many as they would have hoped, but hard working, honourable and brave. They would not disappoint.
Daemon was in Harrenhal, and from the way the power shifted within House Tully, the Blacks would soon count on the full support of the Riverlords.
They had suffered heavy losses, yes, but there was hope for victory still.
"Rhaena and Joffrey are leaving on the morrow, so we may honour our agreement with Lady Jeyne Arryn. Joffrey will be flying on Tyraxes to Gulltown, and Rhaena will go by ship to the Eyrie." Jacaerys informed his mother.
Rhaenyra closed her eyes, accepting her son's silent request to discuss strategy, despite her need for comfort and a kind word.
"Aegon and Viserys need to be protected.", she whispered, thinking of her youngest sons with worry.
"I think we should send them to Pentos. The Council already agreed on it. Daemon has many friends there. They will surely be safe."
Rhaenyra considered the proposition for a moment. Despite Jace's assurance, she was still weary. She did not like the idea of her children being away from her.
Even with the assurance that Joffrey would be among kin in the Vale, he was there so as to keep guard atop Tyraxes. Despite his desire to prove himself, he was still just a boy…and the Baratheons had once been considered kin as well, and that did not stop them from turning their backs on their rightful Queen and her sons.
"And Visenya stays with me." Rhaenyra decided.
The babe was most precious to her. The girl she had always dreamed of having. And she was far too young to be sent anywhere. No one would dare argue with the Queen in this regard.
And so, Jacaerys began addressing a different matter entirely.
"Mother, we have more dragons nesting here. They are our greatest advantage. We should be looking for riders."
"Who would ride them? They would need Valyrian blood."
"I think enough of such seed has been spilled along the years."
With her eyes narrowed, Rhaenyra finally turned away from the fire so as to face her firstborn.
"What do you mean, Jace?"
"The constant talk of bastardly…the gossip our enemies spread…it got me thinking. Previous kings must have visited enough brothels…had mistresses.", the boy voiced his thoughts.
"Your grandsire never dared to. He loved my mother. And despite what I think of his choice for a second wife, I have no doubt that the crone secured his undying devotion throughout their marriage."
"Even so, we must seek out men and women of Valyrian descent. Whether high or lowborn. It matters not. What matters is for us to have riders for all our dragons."
Jacaerys' determination was admirable, and the young lad was proving himself worthy of leading their Black Council.
"There are Vermithor and Silverwing. Dragons belonging to the late King Jaehaerys and Queen Alysanne. They are a mated pair. Always together. One cannot fly without the other." Rhaenyra informed him.
While indeed, there was a problem with separating the two mated dragons, at least they would both be inclined to accept new riders after so many years of solitude.
"Then we shall find riders for them both." Jace stated, confidently, making Rhaenyra smile.
"And for the three wild dragons…mayhaps. But not the Cannibal.", the Queen spoke, while in a pensive state.
"Why not?"
"The Cannibal feasts on other dragons. His lair is made of skeletons of those who had once dared approach him. He is mayhaps the most vicious and the most dangerous. Even if by some good fortune, someone manages to claim him…we simply cannot trust him." Rhaenyra explained.
They would just have to rely on the other two wild dragons, Sheepstealer and Grey Ghost…if they could ever be tamed.
With a nod, Jace stated decisively, "I will speak to the Council."
He oft had to take on such a role these days. For his mother was still in mourning for Luke. And now, there was even more sadness overwhelming her, due to the loss of the Queen Who Never Was.
Before leaving the chambers, Jace turned his head and whispered, "I will not disappoint you, Mother."
"I know you will not, sweet boy.", his loving mother responded with a smile.
…
145 AC
With her eyes completely closed, Visenya let out a sigh, as she sank back into the clean sheets of her bed.
His mouth devoured her body, trailing kisses down her neck, to her breasts, and moving down her stomach.
Her lips were agape. A faint noise escaped her throat, when she felt his hot breath nearing her most intimate parts.
With one hand slowly trailing her thigh, Viserys finally made contact with her bud, making her moan loudly.
He had arranged for the members of the Kingsguard to be preoccupied with other matters, and as such, there was no knight posted at the doors.
The Princess could freely release her sounds of pleasure, without worry for the outcome.
Visenya's fingers tightened around his silver-gold hair, as he continued to lave at her folds, extracting all the juices of her pleasure.
Her hips moved in perfect rhythm with the movements of his tongue.
Digging his fingers into her flesh, Viserys groaned when he finally felt her spasm, and experience her long awaited release.
Her beautiful, soft lips were parted as she was gasping for breath. Her eyes were still closed. And the grip she previously had on the curls of his hair, had disappeared…turned into soft caresses, that were hardening his member against his breeches.
Viserys looked up, finally meeting her gaze.
He continued pressing kisses against her sternum, all the while keeping his eyes on her face.
Her long, silver-gold locks surrounded the frame of her face as a lion's mane.
Her cheeks were red from exhaustion, but Viserys knew there was another reason for it. Visenya had not been a maiden for moons now, and yet, whenever they found themselves in such intimate moments, they would completely overwhelm her.
Viserys did not mind it, for he knew how deep her desires ran. Despite her continued appearance of innocence, the dragon inside her pulsed, and ignited the flames of passion within her.
There had been times when she had wanted to take the lead, and she rode him as she would a dragon.
Practice, she would say with a grin and a glint of mischievousness in her eyes. Practice for whenshe would have a dragon of her own.
On this morrow, he had decided to make it about her pleasure alone. She had sent for him, with the intention of breaking fast together, and proceeding with their expected courtship. However, when Viserys had entered her chambers, he had been baffled to see her wearing a very revealing nightshift.
The material was strange to him. So soft…so smooth…showing him her pink nipples, as well as her pale white skin, unmarked by any impurities.
A goddess on mortal grounds.
The look in her eyes had been highly suggestive, and Viserys had felt her arousal in an instant.
The guards posted at the doors had been immediately dismissed, and the Hand had wasted no time to lock the doors and take the girl he loved into his arms.
He had been determined to introduce her to new pleasures.
Now, her skin was glowing from perspiration, and she could not have looked more beautiful in his eyes.
"My Princess.", he murmured, as he leaned his forehead on her thigh, granting her a moment of respite.
For five moons now, they had been betrothed, and at long last, their wedding ceremony was to be performed in a few days' time.
The times were peaceful, as the whispers about a so-called rebellion in the Reach had begun to die down…as did the talk of Saera Targaryen being alive and well in Volantis.
Viserys deemed himself fortunate, although remaining weary. Naught was as it seemed.
Aegon's request had been granted, despite Visenya's initial resistance. The moon tea had not been pleasant for her to take.
"It has been a moon. I cannot be with child, Viserys, so this is pointless.", she had told him right before gulping down the concoction made by Grand Maester Alford.
Viserys had not said anything. He simply sat next to her, holding her hand when she began coughing as soon as the last drop of the tea had been drunk.
Placing a gentle kiss on her palm, he had whispered, "We shall have all that we desire now, my sweet. We shall have it all. But we must wait."
And wait they did.
Three moons were all they could last.
Visenya had become more present at Council meetings. And even as they attempted to keep their distance, their eyes would meet across the table, and Viserys could no longer hear any of the reports presented by Ser Corwyn and Lord Isembard. She would become the entirety of his focus.
Viserys had become restless. His desire for her was consuming…for he would oft dream of their first time. Of the kisses they had shared in the brothel, and the manner in which he had taken her innocence right in his own bed…marking her, possessing her.
She had been made for him by the Gods above. And to have them be apart for moons out of tradition and propriety imposed by the Seven was maddening.
Aegon had been forced to have a discussion with him on the matter, as the King himself had observed the torture his brother was facing. Viserys had listened to his words of wisdom about patience…but it did them no good.
Two moons ago, and they had finally broken free of the imposed restraint.
It had happened soon after a Council meeting. Viserys had left the rooms swiftly, sweat trickling down his forehead, as he could no longer bear to be in her presence without being able to touch her.
And it seemed that she shared his exasperation.
Following him into the Tower of the Hand, Visenya gasped as soon as she entered through the doors to his private study. He had her pressed against the door in an instant, kissing her deeply.
And so, they had spent many nights in each other's embrace ever since that moment.
"Viserys…please."
Her soft voice, snapped him out of his thoughts.
Her eyes were glazed with obvious desire.
She was breathing heavily, and was attempting to rub her thighs together for friction.
Unburdening them both, Viserys rid himself of his breeches, and laid bare before her.
Kissing her deeply, he wasted no time in parting her thighs and entering her.
"Viserys.", she whined, and arched her back, pushing her hips forward, meeting his thrusts with enthusiasm.
Groaning at the sound of her voice, Viserys was spurred on, and the rhythm of his thrusts was growing erratic, as his hips snapped to hers even faster, eager for them both to reach their peak.
"Kessa. Kessa. Avy jorrāelan." Yes. Yes. I love you.
"Māzigon syt issa, issa dōna. Ivestragī issa rȳbagon ao." Come for me, my sweet. Let me hear you.
Moaning deeply, Visenya could feel the power in her muscles slipping away, as she contracted around him. Convulsing, Visenya moaned deeply, as she reached her peak once more.
Just a few moments after, Viserys was coming inside her, groaning loudly into her neck.
Boneless and sated, he began pressing kisses to her collarbone, and with all his might, trying to keep himself from crushing her with his weight.
Visenya giggled at the feeling of his lips on her ignited skin. She wrapped her hands around his neck, pulling him closer, as she felt him softening inside her.
The evidence of their coupling was pooling onto her thighs, and the Princess was overcome with a desire to be with child soon. It would not matter any longer…for in just a few days' time, they would be wed.
Placing her lips to his ear, Visenya murmured, "Will our bedding still be special now?"
Sensing her genuine worries, Viserys tried to keep his guilt at bay, and rubbed her cheek soothingly, whispering into her neck, "Ah, but of course. For we shall have many eyes on us, watching as I make you mine forever."
Visenya let out a small gasp at his display of possessiveness.
Running her fingers through his hair, she asked, "Gods…will Aegon be there?"
"No. Our brother has informed me that he will not attend the bedding. He trusts us to do what needs to be done."
"Good. It would have been horrid. He believes intimacy should be kept behind closed doors…as do I."
Raising himself, Viserys parted her lips for another searing kiss, when knocks could be heard on the doors.
"Princess?" Elinda's voice could be heard.
"Seven hells." Viserys murmured, as he rapidly wrapped the sheets around his body and ran to the other side of the rooms so as to keep out of sight.
Putting on her nightshift, Visenya made her way to the doors with a small smile on her face.
She trusted Elinda to keep quiet about any suspicious activity. The woman was no fool. She had been Rhaenyra Targaryen's lady-in-waiting for as long as she could remember. And Visenya was her mother's daughter. Elinda had witnessed the longing between Viserys and Visenya for long now. It was to be expected that they should fall into bed together before the ceremony would actually take place.
Viserys kept himself hidden behind the drapes, as he listened to the murmurings of the two voices, unable to make out what they were saying.
As soon as the doors closed, he found it safe to re-emerge.
Visenya looked to be opening a letter.
"'Tis from Prudence. News from Highgarden." Visenya explained with a smile, as she finally ripped out the sigil and began reading the words on the parchment.
"Viserys.", she whispered.
"What is it?", he responded and immediately joined her side to see what had her so shaken.
What possible news could Prudence have for them?
"Silverwing…she has been spotted in the far west end of the Reach. The Red Lake." Visenya replied, her eyes widening, as she turned her head to see his reaction.
There was a tinge of excitement, as Viserys asked, "The dragon?"
"Yes." Visenya responded, breathlessly.
Viserys took the parchment in his hands, inspecting the wording carefully.
"We must go to her."
"Visenya…"
"She is family! I will not leave her there.", the Princess snapped, but he did not seem to be moved.
On the contrary. Viserys seemed angered by every word she spoke.
"We cannot just leave. We have matters to deal with here. Or have you forgotten?", he asked her bitterly.
Visenya's eyes softened, when she realized that he was referring to their wedding day.
Reaching forward, she cupped his cheek and stared deeply into his eyes. "The ceremony can wait. This cannot. Silverwing belongs to our family. If we still have enemies in the Reach, you know that they will try to capture her, or even hurt her."
Viserys reached up and covered her hand with his in comfort, but his expression had not changed.
"You mean to claim her.", he whispered in realization.
"So, what if I do?"
Viserys' lips pursed, and his eyes hardened as he looked down at her.
Suddenly, the reason for his disapproval dawned on the Princess.
Titling her head to the side, Visenya bravely opened her mouth and spoke truthfully.
"You do not wish to be last again. For me and Aegon to have everything before you. Mother told him of the Conqueror's prophesy because you were believed to be dead. Now, Aegon has the first-born dragon after the war. And if I claim a dragon of my own…you will once again be left out."
Viserys' breathing hitched, as he attempted to push her hands away, but she would not budge.
The Princess just continued speaking.
"I know you want to prove yourself a dragonrider like Mother and Father. So, what do you intend to do? Stop me from claiming Silverwing? Attempt to claim her yourself? Are you to fight me on this, Viserys?"
She truly was expecting him to deny her accusations instantly. However, Viserys seemed to mull over her words.
Visenya could not understand how the two of them could be so close, yet so far away from one another. They would embrace one another lovingly for one moment, and the next, there was naught but venom spewed from their lips.
True Targaryens the two of them were. Cherishing one another, and yet still competing for a chance at greatness.
Taking a deep breath, Viserys provided his answer. "No."
Visenya's heart fluttered, her face splitting into a big smile. Leaning even closer, she rubbed her nose playfully against his.
For a moment, she believed she had won their little argument. But Viserys had other plans.
"If you wish to leave…abandon our plans, head for the Reach, and right into our enemies' lair, then that is your decision.", he muttered, knowing precisely how to twist matters in his favour.
He was good with his words. He always had been. But Visenya was not powerless herself. She had learned plenty over the past years.
"The whispers of any rebellion had died moons ago. And you forget that my dearest friend is now the Lady of Highgarden. The Tyrells will provide safe passage for us to the Red Lake."
"Us?" Viserys asked, with a raised eyebrow.
"Of course. You are to come with me." Visenya responded with a small giggle, reaching up so as to press her forehead against his.
"Ao ledagho issa, issa dōna." You frustrate me, my sweet.
Despite his words, there was a tinge of teasing in his voice, and Visenya continued smiling, nuzzling his face with her own.
She could feel his love radiating. He could never stay cross with her.
…
The Red Keep had entered in such a state of peace for many moons now. The worries concerning Saera Targaryen and a pretender in the Reach had long since left their minds…for naught had come of it.
The sailors had not managed to find more proof of Saera's presence in Volantis…and the supposed rebellion had died down.
Letters from Lyonel Tyrell, the Lord Paramount of the Reach, had assured the Crown that the situation was well handled. If a rebellion was indeed brewing, the Tyrells would be the first to know of it, and they would have the power to put an end to it.
Now, as they were nearing the twelfth moon of the hundred and five and fortieth year after Conquest, Queen Daenaera was expected to go into labour any day now. The 'little queen' had entered her confinement, without complaints.
Aegon had been reluctant to let his wife go, for he had gotten much used to having her sleep in his chambers for the past few moons. Daenaera was quite enjoying the idea of no longer keeping separate chambers during their long nights.
As they were nearing the end of the year, Rhaena began to reflect on the troubles, and yet the wonders the Gods had bestowed upon them.
They had achieved so much…and lost just the same. And then gained once more.
The gentle Dragon Twin closed her eyes, as she leaned her head back in the copper tub and allowed the maids to wash her hair. Her hand brushed over her own rather large belly…larger than expected for a mother nearing her seventh moon, according to the maesters.
Rhaena was finding it quite difficult to move around for days now, and the strength of her muscles was failing her.
Grand Maester Alford had explained that she was almost thirty years of age, and this was to be the first time she birthed a babe. According to him, with the advancement of age, the more difficult it was to see this through to the end…and Rhaena also lacked experience.
But the lady cared not. She was the blood of the dragon. She was the daughter of the great Rogue Prince, Daemon Targaryen. She would fight for this child until the end.
Corwyn, however, was not intending to see such end approach her way. He did everything for her, for the past moons. He provided her with all the concoctions and the necessary comfort. And every time they spoke of the babe in her belly, Rhaena could see the fear in his eyes.
Morning was not faring too well, either. For with Rhaena big with child, she kept her focus on that, and no longer visited the Dragonpit as oft. And with Aegarax now residing with his rider inside the Keep, poor Morning was becoming lonesome once more.
The Dragonkeepers had reported seeing the pink she-dragon nudging at the remaining frozen eggs, as though she was begging them to hatch.
Her poor beauty.
Rhaena succumbed to sadness. Now that she was to have a child of her own, mayhaps Morning will feel forgotten.
"'Tis not fair.", the Targaryen lady mumbled to herself.
The Gods had proven themselves most cruel, by giving happiness to one and taking it away from another.
The warm water was beginning to take effect on her body, as Rhaena could no longer feel the same pains she had before.
Alas, her rest was disturbed the moment her sister barged into her rooms.
Walking determinedly towards the tub, Baela reported quite rapidly, "Viserys and Visenya are heading for the Reach. News came from Prudence that Silverwing had been spotted there. Visenya wants to bring her home."
Rhaena opened one eye, looking towards the figure which spoke, and responded softly, "Hello, Baela. How fares my sweet, polite sister on this morrow?"
Ignoring her sister's sarcasm, Baela told her, "Do you hear me, Rhaena? They are going to the Red Lake! Viserys is speaking with Aegon now!"
"But what of their wedding? The ceremony is on the morrow." Rhaena replied, as the maids were helping her out of the tub.
Baela could only roll her eyes at her sister's response. Of course, Rhaena's point of interest in this discussion would be that Viserys and Visenya's marriage ceremony would need to be postponed, and not that a dragon long believed to have vanished, has finally returned to them.
Nevertheless, Baela replied to Rhaena's question. "Visenya wants to wait…until they bring Silverwing back."
After having been dried with a sheet, Rhaena proceeded to dress in one of her more comfortable dresses. No corset to trouble her babe.
Seeing how agitated her sister was, Rhaena reached forward and took her hand in hers.
It was to be expected for Baela to become so agitated at the idea that Silverwing, the dragon which had once belonged to Queen Alysanne, was still alive. Rhaena knew how much her sister wanted a dragon of her own.
Baela had loved Moondancer, and the young dragon had proven himself most valiant during the war. It was Moondancer who had deprived the usurper of his mount, despite being much smaller.
Losing the wyrm had broken Baela's heart, for her heart was that of a dragon. She needed to fly. Without such pleasure, the daughter of the Rogue Prince was lost in the world…seeking some kind of purpose. So, she longed for another mount. One to remind her who she was, and what she could accomplish. How was that to happen if Viserys and Visenya were now targeting the only known full-grown dragon in existence, for themselves?
"Come. Walk with me.", the gentler of the sisters requested, and Baela obliged.
The halls were not as quiet as Rhaena had hoped.
The courtiers were all walking about, discussing the expedition of Prince Viserys and Princess Visenya.
Baela was shaking her head, muttering, "This is madness. They are walking straight into the snake pit."
"You have no need to worry for them. The Tyrells are our allies now. And those who spoke falsely about Daeron the Daring being alive, have long been silenced. There is no threat." Rhaena explained, grasping her sister's arm even tighter, as a smile spread across her face.
Mayhaps with Silverwing back home, she might keep Morning company.
In that moment, a few septas had passed them as well, and Baela did not miss the moment they all glared at Rhaena's round belly. Immediately after, they had started whispering among themselves.
Baela's own eyes widened as she looked immediately towards her sister. Despite having noticed, Rhaena simply looked on ahead with sadness, not saying a word.
"What is this?" Baela demanded of her.
Rhaena was hesitant to speak of the matter, but she knew that her sister was not one to let things go easily. And so, she said, "For moons now, maids, septas, and other women at Court whisper of how unusually I have gotten with child. After over ten years of trying…they think…"
"…that you cuckolded your husband?!" Baela finished a little too loudly.
The septas had even stopped walking, turning around to look at them.
"Corwyn has two children from his previous marriage. His virility has been proven. Their words lack any reason!"
"Baela…" Rhaena started saying, trying to calm her volatile sister.
Unfortunately, there was no stopping Baela when she was in that mood.
Turning around, Baela stomped directly towards the septas, exclaiming, "Hey!"
"Baela." Rhaena mumbled, following behind. The redness on her cheeks was evidence of her shame in her sister's outburst.
"Yes, Lady Baela?", one of the septas asked, standing firmly and refusing to show fear, even if she knew perfectly well how Baela Targaryen was.
A force to be reckoned with…just like her father had been.
"You would do well to refrain from having my sister's name or that of her husband pass your lips!"
"Lady Baela, you must understand…"
"No! What you must understand is a sense of propriety before two members of House Targaryen. Do keep in mind that dragons are once more to rule over the Realm. And they do not take kindly to those posing a threat to their riders." Baela hissed.
She then pointed at her sister, and stated, "Lady Rhaena already has a full-grown dragon of her own. Would you like to meet Morning?"
The septas all regarded one another in silence…almost as though wishing they had not made the mistake of catching Baela's eye.
Threatening their subjects with the wrath of their dragons was not a habit the remaining members of House Targaryen enjoyed…not even Baela. But oft enough, it proved to be necessary.
The Lady of Driftmark leaned closer to the one who spoke, her hand on the hilt of the sword rested at her hip. "I did not think so. Move along now."
No more needed to be said. Not daring to look towards Rhaena once more, the septas rapidly scurried away in the opposite direction.
…
Aegon found himself sitting at a Council meeting on his own, without his brother, for the first time in years.
Viserys and Visenya were already on their way to the Reach, having taken a few ships, provided by the Velaryons.
Aegon had seen how reluctant his brother was to leave. His grim expression as they said their goodbyes said it all. Though, Aegon felt that this reluctance was due to Viserys' desire to marry Visenya as soon as possible. They had already done what their King had asked of them. They had waited the proper courtship period. And now, there were other things enduring Visenya's attention…after it had been herself who had done everything in her power to ensure that she and Viserys would be wed.
A woman's mind was a mystery indeed.
Aegon could not help but feel sympathy towards his younger brother. Had Daenaera done something like this, Aegon would have begun questioning whether she truly wished to wed him.
The King was not blind to the obvious love between his brother and sister. However, he also understood how tempestuous they both were. Restless. Chaotic, at times. The blood of the dragon ran more hotly in the two of them. And now, with news of Silverwing's reappearance in the Seven Kingdoms, naught could stand in the way of Visenya's desire to claim what she perceived rightfully belonged to her.
The Small Council had been most understanding of the situation. They all encouraged the retrieval of the lost war dragon. More dragons in the Keep meant more protection and more stability.
But Viserys was not gone for long, and Alyn had already requested another Council meeting. A matter of urgency, he had said.
In no time at all, the members of the Small Council all rushed inside the chambers, eager to hear what the Lord Admiral had to report.
As he had gotten used to doing for the past few moons, the King had not neglected bringing his hatchling, Aegarax. The presence of the small dragon managed to soothe him, and as such, Aegon felt more confident as he was now leading the Small Council.
The Lord of Driftmark had not even bothered with the formalities the moment he burst inside, holding parchment high in the air.
"Your Grace, there is news from my sailors! The Reach poses a threat once more." Alyn spoke rapidly.
"How do you mean?" Isembard asked with a frown.
"Armies marching towards King's Landing. Without the Lord Paramount's leave." Oakenfist replied, as he finally sat in the chair opposite of the King's.
Everyone's heads turned towards Aegon, who regarded his good-brother in silence.
Once more, he had dared to hope that all would be well, that the Realm would desire peace, not bloodshed.
"Have our ravens reached the North?" Aegon asked calmly.
This time, it was the Grand Maester who responded. "Yes. Lord Cregan Stark is at this moment marching South with his men. Three thousand of them, he estimates. All they could spare, seeing as how winter is coming. His daughter, Sarra, has been writing to him as well, on our behalf."
The ravens requested by Viserys had reached the North in a moon's time, and Lord Cregan had wasted no time in calling the banners.
Regardless of whether the threat existed or not, the Realm would need to be reminded of the 'Hour of the Wolf', it seemed.
Nodding, Aegon stated, "The Tullys should have their forces assembled already as well. As should the Blackwoods."
"They have evaded the Riverlords." Alyn reported nervously, and a scoff came from the Master of Coin.
"Are you our Lord Admiral or our Master of Whisperers, Alyn? How is it that you are so well informed?" Isembard asked, suspiciously.
"My sailors travel far and wide. And I myself have gained many friends, Isembard. I, unlike others, have not been shunned for treason." Alyn snapped, and silenced the Master of Coin.
It would seem that no matter what he did, the Gilded Falcon would forever be reminded of the way he rebelled against the rightful ruler of the Vale.
Ignoring the unnecessary dispute, Aegon focused his thoughts on the situation in the Riverlands.
"How is that possible?", the King asked, referring to Lord Kermit's lack of action against the army marching towards them.
"Lord Kermit cannot make a move whilst the Hightowers and the Peakes do not prove to be threats. The Redwynes are with them as well. They claim to want an audience with you, Your Grace. Naught more." Alyn replied with a scoff.
It was to be expected for Lord Kermit to show such chivalry…but not for their dear Benjicot Blackwood. Bloody Ben was surely seething at the thought of having passed up the chance of wielding his sword once more in the name of justice.
Alas, with Lord Kermit as his overlord, there was little Bloody Ben could do.
"An audience? They have to march in numbers just for an audience?" Aegon asked, distrustfully.
The timing was the worst possible. Viserys was gone, and the Keep was guarded only by the Kingsguard and the Gold Cloaks.
Despite being round with child for almost many moons now, Rhaena had insisted that she ride Morning around King's Landing as a show of force, in case their enemies would need reminding that they still possess one full-grown dragon. Aegon had appreciated her intentions, but did not deem it necessary at the time.
Things were different now, however.
"The people will be watching, Your Grace. They would not dare attempt anything. And I doubt that this is what they have in mind. They wish for an audience so as to gain the smallfolk's favour. If they attack, they lose any chance they have." Corwyn reasoned.
Taking a deep breath, Aegon crossed his fingers together on the table, asking softly, "So…we just let them come?"
"'Tis the one thing we can do…until the Northerners and my fellow Valemen arrive." Corwyn advised.
…
The maids were exclaiming in protest, at the sight before them.
Hundreds of Gold Cloaks were pouring inside the Red Keep, and assembling for what was to come. Though that was hardly what agitated the poor maids.
It was the Queen herself…breaking confinement.
Daenaera Velaryon was soon to bring her babe into the world. Mayhaps only days away, according to Grand Maester Alford. And yet, here she was…wobbling about on her feet in the halls…barefooted, and holding onto Lady Elinda Massey.
The Queen's maids huddled about with clean sheets, and a pitcher with warm water…ready to intervene at once in case the 'little queen' went in labour.
"My Queen…I really must protest. You could harm your babe." Elinda warned, but continued to guide Daenaera to the throne room, as she had requested.
Daenaera's eyes were glossy, due to the great difficulty of moving about with a big belly. But naught was going to stop her from being alongside her husband at a time as this one. She was the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms…and Ser Raynard had been kind to inform her of knights of Houses Hightower, Peake and Redwyne heading for King's Landing…apparently, requesting naught but an audience with the King.
The 'little queen' had gasped, and had even sought out Sarra Stark, asking her desperately if there was any news from her father.
They needed their allies now more than ever.
The Kingsguard and their most brave Gold Cloaks could only delay a siege…not prevent it.
Alyn Velaryon had also taken care to assemble some of his men, and their closest allies of the Crownlands were ready to intervene should they be needed.
Rhaena had taken Morning to the skies despite being round with child…surrounding the Red Keep, almost in a menacing manner.
King Aegon was seated on the Iron Throne…his hatchling, Aegarax, on his shoulder, as expected.
Upon seeing the 'little queen' on her feet, Aegon's eyes bulged, and he immediately strode over to her side, with his small grey dragon hanging onto him like a child.
Grabbing his wife's hands, Aegon's eyes searched for one of his Kingsguards.
"Ser Dennis, take the Queen back to her chambers at once!", he ordered.
"No. I am to remain here." Daenaera argued, though with a calm tone.
"This could harm you and the child. You must be protected. Please, my dear…please, leave." Aegon begged.
"There is a threat our way. And I have a duty to our people. I cannot stay in hiding."
"'Tis not a threat. 'Tis but an audience, and you are in confinement…not a cell." Aegon attempted to convince her.
Shaking her head, Daenaera mumbled, "You should not have allowed this to happen."
"What would have been said about us, had we stopped them? They claim that they feel unsafe in my presence. That I would throw them in the black cells had they come alone."
"This is madness. And the people believe it so?"
Daenaera's eyes glistered with tears once more as she gazed towards the doors, where the many men were expected to arrive. After so many years of peace…so much effort on her part to make things right, how could the smallfolk think so little of her and her husband?
"They do." Aegon replied, caressing her cheek.
Leaning forward, Daenaera pulled at his shoulders and embraced him as tightly as she could, despite her grown belly. Aegon reciprocated her gentle touches, his lips pressing to her long, luscious locks.
He did not know what he would ever do without her.
Their moment was interrupted by Ser Raynard Ruskyn.
"Your Grace. They have arrived.", the Lord Commander informed the King.
In no time at all, cloaks of Hightower grey, Redwyne purple and orange for House Peake poured inside the Great Hall.
Despite the confidence gained for having accomplished their objective of a grand audience, the party of knights were not allowed to take another step without removing their swords.
"Aegon." Daenaera whispered with concern as she watched the Gold Cloaks stand between these men and the royal family.
"Stay with Lady Elinda.", the King insisted and then motioned to the older woman.
Had it been Viserys, he would have ordered Ser Raynard to take the Queen back to her rooms, even with force if need be. But Aegon was not his brother. And using force was not in his nature.
Daenaera had changed due to the suffering she had endured. The sweetness was still there, but oft accompanied by stubbornness and determination. It was clear to Aegon that he was now married to a woman who would not be led.
Nonetheless, the 'little queen' obeyed her husband's demand, and after pressing a small kiss to his forehead, she was taken to the side by Lady Elinda.
The time had come for the King to sit the throne.
Aegarax let out a little screech, sensing his discomfort and pressed his nuzzle to Aegon's cheek lovingly. The King smiled softly and accepted his touch.
Marching up the steps with more courage, Aegon heard Ser Raynard announcing him.
"King Aegon of House Targaryen! Third of His Name! King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men! Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, and Protector of the Realm!"
Sitting on the chair made of melted but sharp swords, Aegon watched closely as a party of people made their way forward, stopped only by the Kingsguard, when they had reached the reasonable distance.
Alyn, Baela and Corwyn were also standing protectively behind, alongside the throne, their hands on their hilts, ready to intervene if need be.
Morning's roars could still be heard from the outdoors, where Rhaena was watching King's Landing from the skies.
The smallfolk had gathered around the Keep, eager to know of what was happening.
The party in the Great Hall was led by Lord Hightower's younger brother, Ser Martyn.
"Ser Martyn!" Aegon began, his eyes roaming around from one knight to another with suspicion.
"What brings you to my home…in such great a number?", the King added.
But Ser Martyn would not speak. Instead, he made a great show before the Courtiers.
Stepping backwards, he went towards one of the knights dressed in Hightower grey, and pulled off his helmet.
The Courtiers all gasped, and started whispering amongst themselves, when noticing the features of the blood of the dragon on the man presented by Ser Martyn.
Short, silver-gold hair and purple eyes. The man, who seemed to have passed thirty name days, also sported a small beard.
There was a small smile on his face, which did appear to be genuine, as he came forth and presented himself for all to see.
"Forgive me, nephew. For this was the only way I figured we could properly meet.", the man started speaking, and the whispers in the Great Hall all died out.
Aegon's mouth parted slightly, as he felt his heart quickening.
Nephew, he called him. Which could only mean…
Closing his eyes for a moment, Aegon gulped, and prayed to the Gods for his brother, Viserys, to return to him, for he could feel the ground moving beneath his feet.
"And who might you be?" Aegon eventually asked.
"Daeron the Daring, they call me. The remaining son of King Viserys Targaryen and Queen Alicent Hightower. And the rightful King of the Seven Kingdoms.", the man responded.
Gasps were heard once more, as the Courtiers had started buzzing with thoughts of their own.
"Silence!" Ser Corwyn called out, allowing the murmurs to die down.
"What proof do you have of this?" Alyn demanded at once.
The Lord of Driftmark was met with more silence, however.
"Do understand that you have found a most peculiar time to come forth. It has been four and ten years since the end of the war." Ser Corwyn added.
"Indeed…during which time I found myself in Essos, working my hardest for food and drink. The massacre at Tumbleton had left me with grave burns…scars which could be found on my body even on this day. And my body was not all that suffered. My mind as well. For many years, I had no knowledge of who I was…despite having something on myself which should have reminded me in an instant."
"Quite a story! How long it must have taken the Hightowers to help you remember it!" Baela snapped, her nostrils flaring, as her eyes met that of Ser Gedmund Peake in the distance.
Ser Gedmund had, foolishly, made himself known to the world as part of the conspiracy, showing his missing ear in the process.
Ignoring his older sister's remark, Aegon asked him, "And what is this something?"
In the front, Ser Corwyn was slowly shaking his head. He could not say something now, however. He could not undermine the King when they were in such a position. However, Aegon's question breathed life into a tale of lies, and he did not even realize it.
Pulling out a pouch from underneath his clothing, the man presented the treasures from within.
Dragon scales. Most having kept their copper colour. And the others, showed the unique dark cobalt of a particular dragon. Scales of a magnificent beast…who, unfortunately, perished fighting for the wrong side.
"What remains of my poor Tessarion!", the man exclaimed, showing the dragon scales to all who approached to see.
Alyn scoffed and shook his head with a small laugh.
Neither Aegon, nor Corwyn found the situation amusing, however. Regardless of the truth of the matter, the people were easily swayed.
Matching her husband's amusement, Baela declared, "That is hardly proof."
"Believe what you will. The Gods above know of the truth of it.", the man argued, all the while smiling at the Courtiers, clearly attempting to win their favour.
"What do you want?" Ser Corwyn asked, passing the Kingsguard, and getting closer to the man who claimed to be Daeron the Daring.
A menacing stance from the wielder of Lady Forlorn, but also with the intention to inspect the features of this intruder.
"To speak to my nephew…and ask him to renounce the throne. He was never made for it. 'Tis but a burden for him, and it shows.", the man responded.
"His Grace is the firstborn son of the true Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen and her consort, Prince Daemon Targaryen. What you speak of is treason." Corwyn replied.
"And yet your King…cannot speak for himself?"
"Speak to me, then!" Aegon's loud voice boomed inside the halls.
And that he did.
Looking up towards him, "Daeron" spoke plainly. "Third of His Name. I must agree with that. And it makes my quest that much simpler. You should have removed my brother's title when you had the chance, dear nephew."
Aegon knew the point of this man's words.
"Sacrifices have been made for the sake of peace. 'Tis how me and my brother were raised. I would have even accepted my mother remain known to the world as a mere princess, had I not been forced to watch my young sister's sufferings.", the King explained himself, though he was not expected to.
"And now, your sacrifice proves to be costly."
"I do not believe it so. No." Aegon replied, calmly.
"Daeron" simply continued attacking with words. "You have made mistakes since that crown was put on your head. Not investigating the death of my poor niece, Jaehaera, was your first."
"Jaehaera's death was most tragic. But she had been highly troubled from a young age. She was unhappy. Her death was of her own doing."
Making a seemingly genuine face of sadness, "Daeron" tilted his head and said, "You do not speak with sorrow…even though she was your first wife."
"A wife imposed on me in an attempt to make peace with my mother's enemies. I cared for her…but did not know her well enough to harbour deeper feelings." Aegon continued excusing himself…falling right into his enemy's trap.
Corwyn was about to make an attempt at stopping the discussion, but Alyn went on ahead and did so himself…and in a most foolish manner.
"Your Grace! This man speaks treason! He should be thrown in the black cells!", the Lord of Driftmark exclaimed.
This only served to rile their audience, as the people had started once more to whisper among themselves disapprovingly.
And that was only serving the pretender's interests.
He was coming even closer to the throne, and stopped once all the members of the Kingsguard pulled out their swords.
Ignoring them, "Daeron" looked up towards the throne and stated, "Even now, you have made a grave error, by allowing such a numerous party to enter your doors. You have allies, yes, but they are much too far away. And if my men were to attack now, and succeed in killing you…your wife…and your child…what is to happen to your mother's legacy then?"
"You forget my brother and sister." Aegon stated, his mind drifting to wherever Viserys and Visenya were now.
"Ah, yes. The true blood of Rhaenyra and Daemon Targaryen, as they say. Very little of that in you I'm afraid, nephew.", the pretender contemplated.
Nephew. He was constantly using that word, to remind people of who he claimed to be.
At that moment, Aegarax shrieked from Aegon's shoulder. A shriek directed at the imposter.
"Daeron's" eyes moved to said creature, but continued with his train of thought.
"They are quite vulnerable…away from home. And on the lands of people they could hardly call friends.", he added with a tsk.
Ignoring his previous remark, Aegon commented, "You think me incapable of protecting the Realm without my brother's help."
It was not a question.
On instinct, Alyn and Corwyn both moved closer to the throne, almost intent on stopping the King from indulging the pretender in his games.
This was a trap…and a way to present to the Courtiers their King's vulnerabilities. An attempt to discredit him.
"The Hand should serve at the King's pleasure, nephew. Not the other way around. I would have made certain of that…had I been sitting in that chair."
"But you do not. And you never will."
"We shall see. We shall see." "Daeron" mumbled, and then added, "I had hoped, and I still hope, to resolve the matter peacefully. I am not one for bloodshed, unlike how my older brothers had been."
"I will allow you the courtesy of speaking the truth for once. Afterwards, depart from here, return to where you came from, and do not ever return." Aegon warned him.
Sensing a subtle threat in the younger Targaryen's tone, the eyes of the so-called Daeron the Daring hardened, as he replied with, "Or…what shall I be facing? A lady on an inexperienced dragon, nearing her days of confinement? Or what of that little hatchling on your shoulder? Should I be afraid of him?"
Aegarax let out another screech, this time louder than the last one.
Ignoring the hatchling once again, "Daeron" said, "I do not wish to harm my people. So, I am giving you some time to think of what you stand to lose."
He was gazing at Daenaera, and her swollen belly, as he spoke.
Without another word, "Daeron" moved towards Ser Martyn Hightower, whispered something, and then, protected by the many knights of Houses Hightower, Redwyne and Peake, he made his way out of the throne room, intent on departing King's Landing altogether.
Aegon came down from the Iron Throne, only to be met by Corwyn, Alyn and Baela, who were all insisting on being heard.
"Your Grace, you cannot just let him leave.", the Lord of Driftmark hissed.
"I have no choice, Alyn." Aegon whispered, his eyes on the back of the self-proclaimed Daeron the Daring, as he made his way out.
But Alyn would not be swayed.
"He is a pretender creating instability in our Realm, and you must be rid of him before he can cause more harm."
"I throw him in the black cells and I would just be confirming his tales. There are some here who already believe him." Aegon explained, looking around to see some of the Courtiers, wanting to go after the man.
Daenaera had come to his side, taking hold of his arm, and laying her head tiredly on his shoulder.
"What if he is Daeron?", the King contemplated.
"I do not care! He remains a traitor even as the real Daeron. He laid waste in Bitterbridge and many died from his dragon's fire." Baela argued.
"What are we to do?" Corwyn asked softly, thinking about the next course of action.
No war had been declared. Not directly, anyway. However, this pretender's intentions were quite clear. He wanted the Iron Throne.
Pulling Daenaera close to him, Aegon stated, "We remain vigilant…until our allies from the North and the Vale arrive. For the time being, we must rely on our people's good judgement…for I will not play his games."
A/N: The dragons are coming into play next chapter ;) The story is updated on Ao3 as well. Thanks for reading!