129 AC

News of what became known as the fight above Shipbreaker Bay reached Dragonstone that very night.

Queen Rhaenyra collapsed onto the cold stones upon hearing of what became of her sweet son, Prince Lucerys Velaryon. Princess Rhaenys was immediately by her side, helping her stand, as the Queen was still weakened from the hard labour she endured birthing the Princess Visenya.

"NOOO! NO! NO! MY POOR BOY! MY SWEET SON!" Rhaenyra cried out in pain, as Rhaenys held her in her arms, attempting to comfort her as though she were her own daughter.

Upon the shores of Dragonstone, the loud screeches of Syrax could be heard from inside the castle. Matching her rider's pain, the she-dragon expressed grief over the loss of her own hatchling, Arrax.

The Black Council was already assembled in the Chamber of the Painted Table. Lord Corlys Velaryon, the great Lord of the Tides, was preparing his fleets for the plan to be put in motion. The Gullet would soon be theirs…and any hope the Greens had for trading with the Free Cities would fade.

The Queen's younger son, Prince Joffrey Velaryon, now two and ten years of age, announced before the Council that he would avenge his brother. He declared that his uncle, Aemond One-Eye, now known as Aemond the Kinslayer, shall pay with his life for this treachery.

He was prepared to mount his own dragon, Tyraxes, and go after the Kinslayer. Lord Corlys and Princess Rhaenys were forced to intervene and stop him. There was no point in risking the life of another son of the Queen.

With Lucerys' murder, the war of ravens was to end, and the true bloodshed would begin.

Rhaenys felt guilt seeping through her conscience for how they failed to gain Borros Baratheon's support. She should have gone herself and treated with this fool of a man. The Baratheons were her kin. The Princess' black hair attested to that. Rhaenys felt she may have had a greater chance of swaying the Lord of Storm's End to support their cause.

And even if she failed, that one-eyed craven would not have dared to go after her, the way he had gone after that child. Meleys was not Arrax, and the Red Queen had never been forgiving. Even if Aemond were to attempt an attack, Meleys would have been more than a match for Vhagar.

Rhaenys could not believe that Borros traded away his loyalty and good sense for naught but a marriage pact to a second son who would never be King even if the Greens were to be successful in this war and forever maintain the Iron Throne.

Gaining the support of Storm's End should have been the easiest task, hence why it had been given to a younger and less experienced son.

Now, the Blacks could only hope that Prince Jacaerys would be successful in his endeavours, and gain the support of the North as well as the Vale. The Riverlands were also essential.

Rhaenys remembered how Lord Grover had supported Viserys over herself at the Great Council summoned by King Jaehaerys. The old man was set in his ways, and was not so inclined to accept a woman in a position of power.

However, all hope was not yet lost. News flew about the Realm that Lord Grover Tully was bedridden and the lordship of Riverrun would soon pass to his grandson, Ser Elmo Tully, who was more sympathetic to Rhaenyra's cause. Ser Elmo recognized the importance of maintaining an oath, and as such, insisted that the banners be kept at Riverrun for the time being, declaring for no one.

There were also other Riverlords who remembered the Realm's Delight from one of the many royal progresses she went on about the Realm, alongside her father. There were plenty of men who were eager to defend the rights of Viserys' little girl, as they put it.

And Prince Daemon had just recently taken Harrenhal, establishing it as the main place of gathering for all of the Blacks' supporters. Being in the Riverlands, he was to surely succeed in marking the territory in his wife's name.

The Council members were prepared to plot their next move. In the absence of Prince Daemon and Prince Jacaerys, and with Queen Rhaenyra grieving the loss of her son, the responsibility became that of the Sea Snake and his wife.

Rhaenys left her husband to handle the matter, as she headed up the Sea Dragon Tower, and to the Queen's chambers.

Rhaenyra was sitting near the fireplace, whispering, "I told him he would safe. My poor boy was promised safe passage."

Lady Elinda Massey covered her body with a warm cloak.

It was truly touching to see such devotion. Rhaenyra certainly deserved it.

Clearing her throat, the Queen Who Never Was, quietly requested for a moment alone with Rhaenyra.

Elinda was reluctant to leave, and only retreated from the room upon receiving a nod of approval from the Queen.

A few moments having passed, and Rhaenyra was once more in tears, her sorrow overwhelming her completely.

Bringing her own chair closer to hers, Rhaenys pulled her into her arms, attempting to soothe her as a mother would her child.

"'Tis my fault. All my fault. I sent him…" Rhaenyra begun, but Rhaenys cut her off.

"No! You are not to blame yourself. Your boys were most brave."

"Boys…boys…Gods…Jacaerys." Rhaenyra mumbled, and then her eyes widened, grabbing Rhaenys firmly, as she exclaimed, "I must write to him! To Lady Jeyne! I must reach Jace! I must! He could be in danger! NO! My son…my son…"

"Rhaenyra, Jace is in the North. The Starks are honourable people. Naught shall happen to him whilst he is under their protection. I swear this to you."

Rhaenys' soft voice was convincing, and she managed to calm the grieving mother for a moment.

They spent the next hours in a tight embrace, with Rhaenyra shedding more tears on her shoulder.

Rhaenyra felt the need of her mother's comfort. Aemma Arryn would have known what to do, or at the very least, what to say. She herself had lost many children. Alas, her mother was not there. Rhaenys was the closest thing.

"I did not believe that Borros Baratheon would turn against us in such a way." Rhaenyra whispered to the older woman after a while.

"He was not involved in Luke's death, Rhaenyra. He is not that big of a fool. Lucerys was a prince of the blood. If there is even a whiff of such treason, Borros knows he could lose his life for it and his family would be destroyed."

Rhaenys continued to rub her arms, holding her tightly to her chest, as she would her own daughter.

"I believe we feel something quite special about our second born child. The first labour is always a hardship. We think of duty being accomplished when we feel our first child at our breast. It is different with the second one. We are used to the pain, and we ignore it, for we feel something much deeper. Love." Rhaenys found herself saying, as she thought about the loss of her own second child and Rhaenyra's first husband, Laenor.

Rhaenyra did not know how to respond to such a statement. She succumbed to her suffering, until the knocks on the doors to the chambers could be heard, and she was pulled out of her trance.

Ser Erryk Cargyll walked inside, with what looked like a letter in his hands.

Noticing Rhaenyra's distressed state, the man bowed his head, whispering, "Pardon me, Your Grace. A raven has just arrived from Harrenhal."

"Daemon." Rhaenyra stated immediately, recognizing his sigil.

Rhaenys moved quickly and took the letter from the knight's hands.

"Thank you, Ser Erryk. You may leave us."

The knight bowed once more, before giving the women their privacy.

"He knows." Rhaenyra whispered, wiping her face with one hand, as she reached for the letter with the other.

Rhaenys scoffed, sitting back next to her and handed her the parchment. "Of course, he does."

It came to no surprise to Rhaenys that Daemon would already be informed of what had come to pass. The Rogue Prince had many friends, and as such, spies all over the Realm, from high-born lords and ladies, to the most gruesome rat catchers and whores of Flea Bottom.

Rhaenyra tore apart the sigil, desperate to read the words on the parchment. Rhaenys had seen the deep love the Queen bore for her husband and consort. She could only hope that he returned her feelings the same way.

Rhaenys knew how Daemon could be. He loved his family, and Rhaenyra above all…but the darkness that consumed him, his thirst for vengeance against the Hightowers, it threatened to blind him to what truly mattered.

Rhaenys stretched her neck, so as she could see what was written. The first part contained personal words addressed to his wife and Queen, words of consolation and love. The next…instructions on what was to come.

"An eye for an eye. A son for a son." Prince Daemon wrote. "Lucerys shall be avenged."

The Council would need to be informed.

…

145 AC

The High Septon himself attended the funeral that morrow. Despite the fact that Prince Baelor was to be sent to the afterlife in the traditional Valyrian way by dragonfire, the Faith understood the importance of maintaining good relations with the Crown.

The Hightowers had not been regarded in a much too favourable light, considering how Otto and Alicent Hightower usurped the throne and plunged the Realm into war in the name of greed and personal ambition. The Faith's constant association with this House was not helping matters.

After all, the war had ended with the Iron Throne being controlled by the children of Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen, thus granting victory to the Blacks. The Faith would not have been as concerned if the Greens had been successful. Alas, no Hightower blood sat the throne, and there were doubts that the Targaryens would ever consider merging their blood with theirs ever again.

Even if it had been Johanna Lannister who had poisoned little Prince Baelor, there was talk going about the Realm that the Hightowers themselves had been involved in this plot. Others argued that there could be no truth to these rumours.

Nevertheless, the High Septon was now thinking about reversing his position on legitimizing the children between Lyonel Hightower and Samantha Tarly. Word reached Oldtown, and Lady Sam was heard to have thrown a fit. It was not the first time that she was at war with the Faith of the Seven, over her decision to wed the son of her former husband.

The Lady of the Hightower was threatening to use her influence with the Bank of Oldtown in order to exact what she believed was justice for her "poor children". A bitter laugh had escaped Visenya's mouth when she heard, telling Elinda that no such consideration was ever granted to her half-brothers, Jacaerys, Lucerys and Joffrey Velaryon.

It was amusing to see the new Lady of the Hightower having to bear the same burden Visenya's own mother had faced during her marriage to her first husband.

The funeral pyre was prepared outdoors, and the ones to be present aside from the High Septon were only those of direct family.

King Aegon, wearing all black, as usual, presented himself with the aid of Ser Raynard Ruskyn. For the first time, he was not seen wearing his crown in what was perceived to be an official ceremony. It was understandable. This was his son's funeral. There was no need for such formalities.

He could barely walk. He was paler than usual and the shadow under his eyes attested to the fact that he had not been sleeping. He had not left his rooms since the sentence against Lady Johanna Lannister had been carried out.

Prince Daeron was kept close to Lord Alyn, Lady Baela and their daughter, whereas Ser Corwyn aided the knights of the Kingsguard in carrying the body of the murdered babe to the pyre.

Queen Daenaera was expected to arrive as well, but unfortunately, no one in the family had seen her that morrow.

Visenya looked up just in time to see Rhaena flying on Morning, instructing the she-dragon in High Valyrian, to land near the pyre.

Morning was to be the one to set the body in flames, as was tradition. Thankfully, they still had one dragon in their possession able to carry out the deed. Otherwise, a torch would have had to do.

Viserys was the last one to arrive, excusing himself by stating that he had matters of State to attend to. He was wearing black, just like the rest of them, but did not neglect to attach his Hand pin to his garments.

Although nowhere near as furious as he had been the previous day, Viserys remained stern, cold and calculated, as he walked over to where Visenya was standing. He looked at all who were present, giving a courteous nod to the High Septon, as Rhaena finally climbed off of Morning's back, in order to join Baela.

"Where is Daenaera?" Viserys asked all of a sudden, startling Visenya.

She looked up and saw that he was not looking towards her, but rather at the pyre.

"I do not know." Visenya managed to mumble, as she turned her head in time to see the way Ser Agramore and Ser Dennis gently placed Baelor's small body on the pile of wood.

Morning let out a cry of anguish, as she acknowledged the family's loss.

In a way, Visenya was pleased that Daenaera had not made an appearance. It was hard enough for her to keep from shedding tears at the sight of what has become of her poor little nephew. Should the Queen appear, no one would be able to keep her from expressing her grief…and it would be too much for Visenya to bear.

With the revelation of Johanna Lannister having been the murderer, the rest of the lords and ladies who had presented themselves in King's Landing for the tourney, were given permission to leave. The only ones who had chosen to remain were Loreon Lannister and Lyonel Tyrell.

The Lord of Casterly Rock insisted that he remain in the hopes of making amends with the Crown, as he still felt responsible for his mother's crime. As for the Lord of Highgarden, the period of courtship between him and the Princess Visenya was still to take place, regardless of the long wait until the wedding ceremony.

"You do not know." Viserys let out a tsk, shaking his head, disappointed in her as though she were but a child. "Did I not tell you to keep close to her?"

Her head snapped up on instinct as she finally met his austere look.

"I grow tired of your orders! Leave me be!" Visenya hissed, at which point Viserys grabbed a hold of her hand.

"Do not make a scene, please."

"Let go of me."

"I will not. We are here to grieve the loss of a babe. Your nephew. Try to maintain some propriety." Viserys argued, but his words only managed to make her laugh.

"You speak to me of propriety? Where were you last night, Viserys?"

He opened his mouth to speak but Visenya cut him off. "I know you had gone to the Street of Silk once more. Do not bother trying to deny it."

"It is not any concern of yours."

Viserys refused to discuss this matter with her, or with anyone else. None of them would ever be able to understand the pain in his heart when Larra Rogare left him. That wound had still not managed to heal, even after all this time.

There were times when he oft longed for a warm body pressed against his, and not necessarily due to desires of the flesh, but desire for genuine companionship. He wished to have someone who would console him, someone who would understand his troubles.

He was the Hand, but he oft had the duties of a King in on his plate. There was too much burden on his shoulders. Viserys could never lay blame on Aegon for being the way he was. His brother had suffered immensely at the hands of the usurper king and the Greens. He had seen things Viserys had not…things one may never recover from. But even so, Viserys still wished he did not have to handle matters all on his own.

Due to this immense pressure, he would of course find solace in the darkest corners of King's Landing.

"It is hardly proper to spend your nights with whores whilst your family grieves." Visenya insisted on the matter.

"We all grieve in our own ways.", he responded, wishing she would put an end to it.

She eyed him closely for one moment, before scoffing and saying, "Yes, we do."

This was not an attempt at agreeing with him. It was yet another provocation. But Viserys would not give into it. It was his nephew's funeral, and he would attempt to be as courteous as was expected, especially with the High Septon watching them closely. There was no doubt in his mind that the Faith was also taking advantage of this moment to look for signs of weakness within their family. The High Septon was to search for who among them was vulnerable…who had been broken by this immense tragedy and would not recover.

Viserys feared that both Aegon and Daenaera had failed the test. But the rest of them could not afford to do the same.

Looking towards the rest of the members present, Viserys could feel the tension oozing between Baela and her husband. There was certainly something there, and the Hand would make certain to inquire about it later on.

Noticing a tear escape Visenya's eye as she looked on towards the very small body of little Baelor, wrapped in silks, Viserys once again took her hand in his, but in a much gentler manner, bringing it to his lips so as he could kiss it.

Visenya's eyes widened in shock at the gesture, and Viserys could do naught but offer a kind smile.

They were oft cruel to one another, and he could not understand why. The teasing nature of their relationship had always existed…even when they were younger. However, since she had become a woman grown, since the talks of her betrothal to Lyonel Tyrell, Viserys could not help but feel…excluded.

He was used to having all her attention. When she was younger, she oft looked at him as though he were the Conqueror himself, reborn. He did not know how much he would miss those looks of adoration one day. That day had come, it seemed.

They continued gazing at one another…an understanding forming in silence. Then, Visenya surprised him when she leaned in and rested her head on his shoulder. He couldn't help the twitch of his lips when he noticed that she was attempting to keep herself on her toes so that her head would rest comfortably. He was taller than her.

Unburdening her, Viserys wrapped his hand around her waist, holding her steadily against him.

With all of them gathered, the High Septon insisted on saying a few words.

As soon as he was finished, Rhaena stepped forward and gave the clear command to her mount, "Drakarys!"

The pyre roared, as it was fed with Morning's dragonfire, drowning out the fainter sounds of a grieving mother.

None of them saw Queen Daenaera, watching the flames engulf her murdered child from a distance.

…

"Why is Lord Lannister still here?" Prudence questioned, as she brushed the Princess' hair.

Visenya was preparing for yet another audience with Loreon Lannister, on his request. This was certainly not the way she wished to spend the following hours.

Despite his harsh words, Visenya knew that Viserys was right. She needed to be by Daenaera's side and help her overcome her pain so as she may be able to care for the new life growing inside her. She was carrying a new heir for the King. Their family could not survive another loss.

"His mother had done enough. There is naught he can do to repair the damage caused or spare your family the pain, Princess." Prudence reasoned, as she finished with her curls and was now choosing rubies to match Visenya's blood red dress, with floor-length sleeves.

"Poor Queen Daenaera." Little Jeyne agreed.

Elinor chose to remain silent, as she continued reading her book.

Ignoring her ladies' remarks, Visenya seemed to eye Elinor with great interest, something which did not go unnoticed by either Prudence, Sarra or Little Jeyne.

"I shall take my leave now. You may amuse yourselves here until I return." Visenya told them, as she admired herself in the mirror of her vanity.

Ser Joffrey Staunton was there, prepared to escort her to the throne room.

It was not yet known whether Aegon was to make an appearance. Whatever Loreon Lannister had to say, surely the King needed to be there. But considering how Aegon had not spoken a word since his son's death, and the manner in which he rushed away from the funeral pyre that morrow as soon as Morning released her flames on the body of Prince Baelor, there was a great chance that the Court would have to deal with his absence a while longer.

Walking along the halls of the Red Keep with Ser Joffrey right behind her, Visenya noticed that more Gold Cloaks were patrolling the corridors. Viserys was not taking any chances.

Her heart swelled at the thought of how protective he was of their family. Although he had missed a part of their lives when he had been kept a prisoner in Essos, he had never forgotten them. Neither of them.

On the day he was brought back to Westeros by Alyn, Visenya had been but five years of age. She was still sucking on her thumb, holding one of her many dolls in a tight embrace. Elinda had even attempted to sow one looking very much like her mother's dragon, Syrax, but Aegon had forbidden her to play with it.

The moment he saw her, Viserys' eyes had lit up, and he exclaimed her name in joy. Visenya did not know who he was, as she had been but a babe when the Battle of the Gullet had taken place. She barely returned that smile, and instead, chose to follow him around everywhere, observing every detail of his face, as thought it was of the utmost importance.

Visenya bit her lip to keep a smile from spreading on her face…mayhaps the first smile since their family's tragedy. She knew she should not, especially when knowing about Daenaera's condition, but she could not help herself.

Viserys was a wonderful man. Light and darkness in equal measure…but when it mattered, his light shone as bright as day. And Visenya suddenly felt that she had been most harsh with him. Mayhaps she had judged him unfairly in those black cells.

The cruelty that shone in his eyes was naught but a consequence of a great attack against their family. Viserys was not the enemy. He was their protector, and he was willing to do whatever it took to keep her safe…just as their father did for their mother.

The doors to the throne room were opened by more men of the City Watch, and Visenya had to keep from gasping at the shock of seeing Viserys sitting the Iron Throne.

Of course, aside from the King himself, only the Hand was granted this honour. And Viserys' stance made it clear to the rest of the family that whilst Aegon had made great efforts to be there for the sentencing of Johanna Lannister, he would no longer be tending to matters of State. That was left to his Hand.

Taking a deep breath, Visenya walked over close to the throne and eyed Viserys with curiosity. He looked good…sitting there, as though he were made for it.

It was what the Realm constantly whispered though…that the second son was far better suited to sit the Iron Throne than his older brother. However, no one dared speak their minds on the matter, for it would be considered treason.

What the folk believed though, hardly mattered. Viserys was faithful to his brother, he loved him dearly and would never dream of taking what rightfully belonged to him. In any case, Visenya believed that the position of Hand was one which Viserys preferred. He had a King's power, but with the possibility to remain in the shadows.

Seeing Visenya arrive early brought a smile to Viserys' face.

She was learning. Little by little, Visenya was letting go of her childish ways, and started accepting more and more responsibility.

Looking around, and noticing the Gold Cloaks as well as the knights of the Kingsguard watching them, Visenya addressed him in High Valyrian.

"Gaomagon emi iā shifang?" Do we have an understanding?

"Hen rhinka, dōna mandia." Of course, sweet sister.

Soon enough, the two of them were joined by Alyn, Baela, Corwyn and Rhaena. Neither the King, nor the Queen were to attend. Viserys made certain to excuse their absence on account of mourning.

Loreon Lannister was escorted inside the Great Hall, and looked surprised to see Viserys sitting the throne.

"Forgive me, my Lord Hand. I requested an audience with the King most especially.", the young man managed to say calmly, as he looked around at all the people surrounding him.

The heart and courage of a lion indeed…to make such demands after it had been a member of his own family who killed a prince of the blood.

"The King is in mourning. As such, I will be sitting the throne on this day, Lord Loreon." Viserys explained, making certain to avoid creating any suspicion that the Crown would seek to retaliate for the murder of Prince Baelor.

No, that was not what Viserys was interested in doing. And from the little discussion he had shared with his younger sister soon after the funeral…Lord Loreon's predicament could be used to their advantage.

It was most clever of Visenya to think of such an arrangement, Viserys thought as he rubbed his hands together, almost in excitement at what was to come.

"You wish to make amends with the Crown and as such, with House Targaryen. I believe this is what you have told Grand Maester Alford. Is that not so, Lord Loreon?"

"Indeed, my lord. House Lannister as a whole had no part in the murder of Prince Baelor." Loreon insisted, lowering his head as he continued.

"My mother became mad with grief over the loss of my father in the war. And afterwards, when she had to endure the sacking of Lannisport…it seemed as though she would never recover. She may have attempted to rule over me but those days are long past us now. I am Lord of Casterly Rock in more than just name, and on behalf of House Lannister, I express my deepest regret for the crime committed by one of our own. But rest assured that this act was the act of one person, and not a conspiracy of my House as a whole. I should also like to ask what you would desire of me to assure you that House Lannister remains forever faithful to the Crown."

Well thought out words.

Viserys locked eyes with Visenya once more, before finally addressing the Lord of Casterly Rock.

"Lord Loreon, the Crown thanks you for your most kind words." Viserys began, taking the time to rest more comfortably on a throne made of sword blades, before saying, "There is something that the Crown would request from you…as a symbol of your allegiance."

"Anything, my lord." Loreon insisted.

"You are a man grown. Nine and ten years of age, and lord to one of the wealthiest and most powerful Houses in the Realm. And as I understand it, you are looking to take a wife."

"I am, indeed. Casterly Rock requires a lady of good breeding and the proper etiquette to manage it."

"We have such a lady in mind." Viserys told him with a nod, before declaring, "Lord Loreon, the Crown requests that you take Lady Elinor Massey to wife."

There was a look of surprise on Loreon's face, as Visenya would have expected…but even so, it was not a look of disapproval.

Taking a deep breath, Loreon bowed his head, and exclaimed, "I would be honoured, my lord!"

…

"Elinor Massey?" Alyn asked with a chuckle, as he charged, taking a full swing at Viserys with his sword, only for the Hand to instinctively dodge it, and counterattack spectacularly.

Ever since the night in the black cells when he had suspects to interrogate, Viserys had felt himself more and more connected to Dark Sister. The ancestral Valyrian sword not only called out for traitors' blood…it was also calling out for Viserys' own blood…the blood of the Rogue Prince.

Dark Sister seemed to have remained attached to its previous wielder, and despite having lost Prince Daemon Targaryen, his son was prepared to take the helm and offer the sword the glory it required.

"Again!" Viserys called out, turning his head slightly to the left, noticing that Corwyn was the one charging now, using his own ancestral sword, Lady Forlorn.

This time, Ser Corwyn managed to expertly disarm him…Dark Sister clattering on the stones of the courtyard.

The annoyed look on Viserys' face, almost made Corwyn sheathe his sword at once. This had not been his idea. It was Viserys himself who had insisted that he practice by facing two adversaries at the same time.

What he hadn't truly realized was the fact that Alyn and Corwyn were mayhaps the best adversaries in existence at the time. There was no possibility for Viserys to beat them in such a way…not unless he became the warrior his father had once been, and the Hand had his doubts that he would ever achieve such remarkable performance.

Corwyn, at five and forty years of age, was fully experimented in the art of swordsmanship. He had known true combat when he had fought in the war for the Blacks, and then later on in the Vale, when he had protected the claim of Lord Joffrey Arryn.

"Mayhaps we should stop." Corwyn suggested, not wanting to make Viserys feel inferior to himself.

"No!" Viserys and Alyn exclaimed at the same time, grinning at one another in understanding.

"I need the practice, Corwyn. And I can think of no better instructors than my own good-brothers. Again!" Viserys explained, taking Dark Sister into his hands and this time charging so well that Corwyn's own Lady Forlorn almost slipped from his grasp.

"How did you manage to convince the Lord of Casterly Rock to take to wife a girl who is the talk of the Court for having lost her maidenhead not long before she presented herself before our King as a possible bride?" Alyn asked again, curiosity overtaking his senses.

This distraction proved to be advantageous for Viserys, who succeeded in disarming him.

"Well done!" Alyn praised, though Viserys was not yet satisfied.

Alyn was nowhere near the knight Corwyn was.

"Viserys, tell me. How did you manage to convince Lord Loreon to take Lady Elinor to wife?" Alyn insisted.

"I was indebted to her family." Viserys explained, thinking with sadness at what he had put Lady Elinda through.

An apology would never prove to be sufficient. Nor would the gold from the Crown's own treasury.

"Visenya was insistent on finding Lady Elinor a good husband, and Lord Loreon was desperate to prove his loyalty to the Crown after his mother had my nephew murdered. 'Tis an opportunity." Viserys explained, as Dark Sister met Lady Forlorn once more.

Alyn watched as Viserys pushed himself to best Corwyn…almost managing it, but not quite.

"Yes, but you are forcing a Lannister into marriage to a Massey. There is a lot House Massey has to gain from such a match. The same cannot be said for those proud lions." Alyn told him, rubbing his chin, as he analysed Viserys' movements.

There was still plenty Alyn and Corwyn could teach him. The Hand had potential to master more than just politicking. On that, both his good-brothers agreed. And they were willing to aid him in reaching his potential.

"Loreon Lannister is but one lion. He has sisters, but no father, nor uncles, nor any other family members who may pose a threat. Visenya was right in believing that we must not forget how the Lannisters broke their oaths and sided with the usurpers during the war. Whatever Loreon Lannister would have sworn to me now…it would never have been able to assure me that he would not seek to exact vengeance one day, for the deaths of his mother and father." Viserys argued.

"Not for his mother. He was not fond of her. As terrible as it may sound, I believe he truly wished to be rid of her." Corwyn expressed his opinion, as he finally sheathed Lady Forlorn.

Alyn chose to focus on another part of Viserys' explanation, which seemed to amuse him.

"Visenya was right? I do not believe that I have ever heard you agree with your sister's opinions." Alyn remarked with a chuckle.

"She's learning." Viserys murmured, a small smile crossing his features.

…

To the surprise of Lord Commander Ruskyn, the wine cellar in the Red Keep had slowly started to lose its goods. He took care to bring this to Viserys' attention. Rhaena happened to be in the hall at that precise moment, with a cup of Arbor Red in her hand.

Her eyes widening, Rhaena looked at her own cup and then slowly took a few steps back, so as she may return to her chambers undetected. The last thing she wanted was for the rest of the family to find out that she had been drowning her sorrows in the rich flavour of the fermented fruit.

They all had different ways of dealing with grief. Daenaera and Aegon were both locked in their chambers, refusing to see or speak to anyone, Visenya was focusing all her attention on preparing her lady-in-waiting to become the new Lady of Casterly Rock, Viserys chose swordsmanship in the company of Corwyn and Alyn, whereas Baela…

At that precise moment, Rhaena's head snapped up in time to see her sister enter her chambers…quite discreetly as well, closing the doors slowly behind her as though she were hiding from someone.

Rhaena immediately hid her cup under the bed she was sitting on before Baela could notice. She opened her mouth to say something, but her eyes instantly widened at seeing her sister's dishevelled state.

Baela's skirts were rumpled, she was red in the cheeks and her short hair was tousled. Her sister looked as though she had been ravaged…and she had greatly enjoyed it. Sensing the effect of Arbor Red, Rhaena covered her mouth with her hand as she let herself be consumed by giggles, catching Baela's attention.

"It was you, was it not? You are the one who nearly emptied the wine cellar!" Baela accused, and bit her bottom lip to keep from laughing as well.

It felt good to laugh for that one moment. Neither of the Dragon Twins had dealt well with the tragedies in their lives. They could not bring themselves to succumb to complete sadness and loss of their will to live, as others tended to do. Laughing about the most insignificant matters proved to be efficient in getting over grief. It worked after their own mother died.

Rhaena waved her sister off, and managed to get a hold of herself enough to say, "Let us not talk of me. Look at you! It seems that you and Alyn have finally managed to reconnect."

There was a genuine smile on Rhaena's face as she spoke those soft words. There had to be some good to come out of their family's tragedy. Mayhaps with Baelor's death, Baela and Alyn had finally come to terms with what is important in their lives, and remembered that despite the difficulties, they loved one another greatly.

"What makes you think that I was with Alyn?" Baela asked firmly, but the teasing smile on her face did not disappear.

Rhaena, on the other hand, instantly paled as she processed her sister's words.

"What are you talking about?" she murmured, before standing up from the bed and exclaiming, "Sister, what have you done?!"

"I have found a man worthy of my attention. Well…just barely a man." Baela explained.

"Lower your voice! 'Tis not something you should be proud of! How could you do this to Alyn?" Rhaena argued, suddenly feeling herself freed from the pleasant and relaxing state the wine had brought her in.

She could feel herself agitated at the mere thought that her own sister had been unfaithful to her husband.

"Baela, who is it?" Rhaena demanded of her, her hands crossing over her chest.

"All I can tell you, sister, is that the hands with which he tends to horses…are capable of bringing quite the comfort to a lady in need."

"The stable boy?!" Rhaena nearly shrieked, instantly covering her mouth with her hands, and looking towards the door, praying to the Gods that none heard them.

"Gods! 'Tis what Viserys meant when he said that the stable boy was hiding something. It was not about anything to do with Johanna Lannister's heinous crime. It had to do with you!"

"Mayhaps…" Baela whispered as she lowered herself fully on the bed and rested her eyes.

Her sister continued speaking frantically.

"He is going to kill you."

Frowning instantly, Baela snapped, "I am not afraid of Alyn!"

"I am talking about Viserys."

"Viserys? What would make you think that I would ever be frightened of my younger brother?"

"I heard all that has happened in those black cells, Baela. And if you knew the truth, you would fear his wrath as well. There are many who claim to have seen the Rogue Prince reborn."

Smirking, Baela shook her head, getting off the bed, and saying, "Father had no morality in any of his bones. Viserys is not like him."

"Believe what you want. But none of it matters." Rhaena told her, and then her voice softened as she asked with disbelief, "Why would you do this to Alyn?"

Rolling her eyes, Baela could feel her temper rising, as she hissed "Rhaena…" in warning.

"No! You shall not speak! You have made a cuckold of your husband, and you did not even stop to think about your own daughter in the process!" Rhaena accused her, shaking her head in disappointment.

"Rhaena…" Baela warned once more, but her sister chose to ignore her and began talking about moon tea.

"Rhaena!"

"What?!"

"He did it to me first!" Baela told her, her fury evident.

Her eyes closed, wishing with all her might that she could take those words back. Baela had been insistent that no one found out about Alyn's indiscretions, for her own sake and Laena's. But now, her own daughter knew…as did her sister. This surely had potential to become one of worst kept secrets at Court, if she was not careful.

Rhaena stopped talking, meeting her sister's gaze, as her own purple eyes softened.

Taking a seat next to her, Rhaena took Baela's hand in hers, asking, "What do you mean?"

"I think you know."

"When? With whom?"

Baela shook her head, pulling her hand back. "No more, Rhaena."

"Please…tell me."

Her sister's gentle voice could make anyone reveal their darkest secrets. But that was not the reason why Baela decided to loosen her tongue. She had kept this inside herself for long enough…for the sake of her family.

"Aliandra Martell. She had his son…Qoren." Baela revealed, her eyes hardening.

Rhaena instantly gasped, shaking her head in disbelief. "I cannot believe this."

The Dragon Twins collided in a strong embrace, reminding one another that despite their many differences, they would always be there for one another.

"But sleeping with the stable boy is no solution! What if Alyn finds out?" Rhaena insisted, pulling back and looking at her sister sternly.

"I hope he will."

"No, you do not. We have all had more than our fair share of sorrow. Do not attempt to add to that. I beg of you…speak to Grand Maester Alford. He can have moon tea prepared for you. You can tell him that it is for one of your maids."

"He will never believe that."

"Then I shall do it myself."

Looking outside the window, Rhaena noticed the dusk beginning to settle. Alyn and Corwyn would surely be returning soon from their sparing session.

Standing up, Rhaena looked down at her sister and instructed, "Best you return to your chambers…and speak no more of this. You shall only hurt Laena."

Baela narrowed her eyes, as she headed towards the doors. She did not like to be treated as a child. Of course, she loved her daughter and would never attempt to harm her in any way.

Alyn, on the other hand…

Baela was certainly planning on having some nasty little gossip reach her husband's ear.

…

Late in the night, Visenya was making her way through the halls of the Red Keep, as she was now used to doing. She could not find sleep…and the constant presence of the Gold Cloaks in her home did not ease her worries.

This time, she made certain not to stroll about in her nightshift. A sense of propriety was required of her, after all. And Viserys' all too intense gazes made her self-conscious.

She visited Daenaera in her chambers, as per Viserys' request, but she would oft find her already asleep, with Baelor's old garments pressed tightly against her chest. This night had been no different. Once inside the Queen's chambers, the maids all shook their heads in unison. Visenya knew what that meant. Daenaera had closed off once more, and preferred the company of her own bed to that of her good-sister.

Visenya's steps were now leading her to the King's chambers. How long were they going to continue in such ways? They were family. They had to remain united, even in tragedy. Aegon had not spoken a word since his son's death. He refused to see anyone…including Viserys.

But he was going to her. This time, Visenya was determined to force herself back into his life. She would comfort him, pull him into her arms for a tight embrace, even though she knew that he didn't much care for it. For the longest time, Daenaera and Viserys have been the only exceptions.

"What are you doing here?"

Visenya looked up to see Viserys standing right outside Aegon's doors, with Ser Raynard Ruskyn, Ser Edmund Cobb and Ser Dennis Whitfield. There were also a few Gold Cloaks posted around the doors as well.

"I am here to see the King." Visenya stated, crossing her hands over her chest, as she eyed her other brother sceptically.

"Aegon is not in his rooms. Ser Raynard has just informed me."

"What do you mean? Where is he?"

"He was seen heading towards the Hill of Rhaenys." Ser Raynard told her.

"The Dragonpit?!" the Targaryen princess nearly shrieked.

Aegon was known around the Realm as the Dragonbane, due to his distaste for the creatures. The smallfolk were not understanding of their King's distress…of how it endlessly pained him to have to be around the type of wyrm which killed his mother right in front of him.

It had been a complete surprise to Visenya when Rhaena admitted to her that Aegon had visited Morning from time to time, that he had even let himself touch her scales.

And now, he was there once more…alone…in the darkness of the night, and without informing his brother and Hand.

"We must go to him." Visenya whispered, starting to make her way to the end of the hall, ignoring the disapproving gazes she got from the Gold Cloaks. After all, the men of the City Watch were there not only to keep danger from slithering within, but to also ensure the safety of all members of the Crown, by keeping them within the safety of these walls.

The Princess cared not. They could very well try to stop her.

To her own ease, she heard Viserys give firm instructions to the Kingsguard that they remain behind, despite the protests of the Lord Commander.

Soon enough, her rapid strides were matched by the Hand, who seemed to be just as eager and as worried as she was.

"Why do you stroll these halls on your own at night?" Viserys questioned her, looking straight ahead, as they rushed down the corridors and into the coldness of the night.

Visenya could feel the chill rush up her spine, but she cared not. She had a brother to find. What if Morning could sense his fear or his resentment? The she-dragon was known to be a most gentle thing…but in the face of danger, she could be quite ruthless to protect herself…as a true hatchling of Syrax and Caraxes.

"I could ask you the same. 'Tis not the first time you lurk about." Visenya replied.

She could feel his burning gaze on her, as they continued walking in equal measure.

Candle lights could already be seen from inside the Dragonpit. Visenya's ears perked up when hearing the loud shrieks of Rhaena's pink she-dragon. It was a clear indication that she had company.

When finally reaching the top of the hill, Visenya could hear Morning's gentle whines. She was pleased that she would not be spending another night on her own. Dragons tended to be quite lonesome creatures.

"I have responsibilities." Viserys found himself mumbling, finally choosing to respond to her accusation.

"And as I remember telling you not long ago, I had no knowledge that your responsibilities involve the Street of Silk."

"I do not seem to recall when I had to answer to you, Visenya. You are not my wife!"

His words proved to be far too harsh. Nonetheless, Visenya refused to show the disappointment which crawled inside of her.

He chose that moment to remind her that he was not hers. Not hers to comfort, to cherish or to protect. And she was sworn to another…all because of his games.

But retaliating would not solve the problems which plagued their family. Hence why Visenya chose to remain silent. She attempted to look composed and focused on a greater issue, that which involved her other brother.

Stepping gently into the Dragonpit, the first sight was that of Aegon, dressed in his usual black cloak, on his knees before the six stone-cold dragon eggs they had managed to rescue from Dragonstone. The last clutch of the well-remembered Syrax and Caraxes.

Morning was sitting in a far corner, keeping her distance, but her stance was welcoming…not seeming threatened one bit by a man who had once supported his good-brother's decision to kill the last remaining wyrm from Laena Velaryon's crib.

Visenya and Viserys remained at the entrance of the Dragonpit, their eyes fixed on their older brother.

Aegon's hands were placed on one of the eggs. It was dark grey, a colour similar to the dragon he had lost during the war, Stormcloud.

Seeing his brother sitting on his knees, not making any sudden movements, nor releasing any sort of sound, made Viserys mad with worry. But before he could advance so as to inform his brother of his presence, there was motion from the King.

Aegon looked up into the dome, his melodious voice releasing words which made Visenya quiver with what she felt was a true combination of exhilaration and shock.

"Drakari pykiros." Fire breather.

Keeping his head raised towards the dome, Aegon sang even louder, making Morning stand, and look towards him curiously.

"Tikummo jemiros." Winged leader.

"I did not know that he could speak it so well…let alone sing it." Visenya found herself whispering, referring to their ancestral tongue.

"Neither did I." Viserys replied, which seemed to shock Visenya even more.

There was naught that Aegon would keep from his brother. But these were different times. Mayhaps, the King had been truly underestimated.

Visenya and Viserys recognized the song from their Father's Valyrian scrolls. It would seem that this chant had caught the attention of the King as well…so much as he decided to learn it…perfect it.

Aegon's voice only increased in power, as he sang with an almost desperation.

"Yn lantyz bartossa." But two heads.

"Saelot vāedis." To a third sing.

Taking a deep breath, Visenya stepped into the Dragonpit, with Viserys following close after her. She was finally beginning to understand. The singing, Aegon's courage to come alone to the Dragonpit and ignore his own fears and resentment…he was doing it all because he felt alone and unprotected in a world that should have been his.

Alas, the world they lived in was not truly theirs. There were plenty of Westerosi making certain to remind them that they did not belong, even though this is where they were born and raised. The Faith of the Seven was not theirs.

But the Fourteen Flames were. And the Gods of Old Valyria were listening to their plight on this very night.

Aegon did not even flinch, as Visenya and Viserys sat on either side of him, their voices joining his in unison.

"Hen ñuhā elēnī." From my voice.

"Perzyssy vestretis." The fires have spoken.

"Se gēlȳn irūdaks." And the price has been paid.

"Ānogrose." With blood magic.

Morning let out a roar to the skies above, as thunder quaked the hill they were standing on. The Gods were there. They followed the voices of the three-headed dragon, and was giving them a sign…assurance that they were not alone.

"Perzyro udrȳssi." With words of flame.

"Ezīmptos laehossi." With clear eyes.

"Hārossa letagon." To bind the three.

"Aōt vāedan." To you I sing.

Aegon's hands tightened on that grey dragon egg. It was as if he was holding on for dear life…afraid the connection would be broken if he ever let go.

The thunder continued to be heard, and Morning's roars only increased in number, as Aegon, Viserys and Visenya continued to sing.

Their family was vulnerable…and the vultures have now gathered. The sons and daughter of Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen and Prince Daemon Targaryen were calling for the strength of Old Valyria, to shield them from danger, to return what had once belonged to them…and strike down their enemies.

"Hae mērot gierūli." As one we gather.

"Se hāros bartossi." And with three heads.

"Prūmȳsa sōvīli." We shall fly as we were destined.

"Gevī dāerī." Beautifully, freely.

The thunderstorm had not stopped even hours after Aegon, Viserys and Visenya had left the Hill of Rhaenys together. Their work was finished. The Seven were needed to step aside and leave room for the Fourteen Flames as well.

Morning let loose a gentle whine, as she felt life forming on the other side of the Dragonpit. The single grey egg, touched by the hands of a Targaryen King, and sung to by the three-headed dragon, was beginning to warm.

A/N: Thank you all for reading! The story has been updated on Ao3 as well. I hope you all enjoyed it :)