Note:
Sorry this chapter took so long. As I mentioned before I was waiting for my hand to fully heal or at least get significantly better before I started writing again as it seemed like the last chapter was a hot dumpster mess. I also did not get into my dream school and have it to finish my education in a public school which makes my chances of becoming a doctor practically zero. So, yeah I haven't been in the best mindset to continue the story but thankfully I'm way better now.
Another thing I like to address is that I've been getting death threats over the last chapter from some people (that's why I enabled comment moderation on AO3) and I do understand that the last chapter was not as strong as the last ones but I didn't think that it would result in me being told to kill myself over a story. I know not to pay attention to these comments but it still felt weird . Thankfully, nothing of sorts happened in ffnet but it still left a sour taste in my mouth.
Some people were complaining that Baelon is a loser with no ambition and the only thing that I can say right now is give it some time. The dance hasn't even started yet properly for Baelon to something, but I do understand that some might not liking long and abandon this story.
Also most scenes in this 5 chapters were mostly from the show but season 2 was not that good in my opinion so I'm going change most things in it.
As always, I hope you enjoy.
Aegon needed a bride.
It was simple, really.
Every king needs an heir. Well, Aegon did have heirs in a sense. If Aegon were to die suddenly, then Baelon would be king. But again, every king needs a child of his own.
That was why he was flying on Stormcutter's back to Storm's End. He needed to secure House Baratheon's support for Aegon and, if possible, choose a bride for him. Thankfully, Storm's End was not far from King's Landing. It was a short journey, though Baelon was still glad to have some alone time in the air with his dragon.
Aemond had been the first choice as envoy, but after he had slain Lady Fell and Lords Caswell and Merryweather for refusing to bend the knee to Aegon, Alicent feared his temper might lead to further bloodshed if Lord Borros Baratheon did not offer his support. So, instead, Baelon was chosen as the envoy.
It had been a long time since Baelon last flew on Stormcutter's back. Despite still being fairly young, she was quite large—though not as big as Vhagar. She was slightly smaller than Caraxes. Her body was as white as snow, the only exception being her wings, which were a soft shade of pink.
Baelon and Helaena had often raced their dragons against each other. Stormcutter always emerged victorious. She was swift, very swift. In her younger days, she could manoeuvre through tight and narrow spaces with ease, though Baelon was not sure if she could still manage such feats now. She also had a rare ability to rotate her head nearly all the way around, making her more formidable in the skies.
" A storm's coming." Baelon noted, eyes scanning the darkening horizon. The Stormlands lived up to its name, as a tempest was no stranger to them. Stormcutter grunted in response.
" Good thing we are almost there, are we not?" Baelon murmured, spotting the distant tower of Storm's End. Stormcutter increased her speed, cutting through the air with renewed vigour.
" You needn't hurry." Baelon said, resting a hand on her scaled back. " A bit of rain won't scare me off."
Stormcutter paid Baelon's words no mind, her pace only quickening.
" I see." He commented. " Seems like you're the scared one."
Stormcutter growled in response, shaking herself violently in an attempt to throw Baelon off balance. Luckily, Baelon had anticipated such a move and held on with a firm grip.
" I missed this," he sighed. " I'm sorry I haven't come around more often. I've been caught up with duties."
Stormcutter gave no response this time.
" I'm the heir to the throne now." He stated. " Though it won't last. Aegon will sire sons soon enough."
Stormcutter gave a low growl, her pace slowing as the fog thickened around them.
" You think I'd make a better king than Aegon?" Baelon mused aloud, knowing well that Stormcutter couldn't answer. " I was never meant for the throne. It was always Rhaenyra or Aegon. The rest of us – Aemond, Helaena, Daeron, and I – were always just shadows in the background."
" I'm no Jaehaerys," Baelon admitted, his head dipping low to gaze at the lands beneath them. " He was the third son of Aenys. In any other tale, he'd never sit the throne, yet he did, and he changed the realm for good."
" I'm destined to be in the shadows my whole life," Baelon sighed, casting a glance at Storm's End's tower, now looming closer. " I knew this since I was a child and I've learned to be content with it."
" But you're right," Baelon said as they prepared to land in Storm's End's yard. " We do not know what the future holds."
The guards quickly scattered, giving Stormcutter enough room to land safely without damaging anything. Baelon swiftly dismounted, caressing her head before advancing toward Storm's End's door, which was guarded by six men.
"I am Prince Baelon Targaryen." He said impatiently as he stood before the guards. "I bring a message to Lord Borros from the King."
Four of the guards nodded and turned to open the door, gesturing for him to follow. They led him through the dimly lit corridors toward the Round Hall. Baelon noted with a frown that Storm's End seemed grimmer than King's Landing, as if the approaching storm had cast a shadow over the entire place.
"Prince Baelon Targaryen." One of the guards announced as they entered the room. "Son of King Viserys the Peaceful."
The Round Hall was almost empty, save for a few guards and Borros Baratheon, who sat imposingly on his throne. Four young women stood beside him. Each of them bore the unmistakable Baratheon look, yet lacked their father's hard edge.
"Lord Borros." Baelon addressed as he stood before Borros. "I bring you a message from the King."
"The King?" Borros questioned. "Your father was adamant about his daughter ruling after him and now you come here saying there's a king?"
"My father's mind changed, as minds do," Baelon said, his tone measured. "For the good of the realm, House Baratheon must now swear fealty to the rightful king."
Borros's smile was more a sneer than a show of warmth, as if he found the whole affair a jest at best.
"Did you know my father, Prince Baelon?" Borros asked, though his tone made it clear he already knew the answer.
"Yes," Baelon replied, his voice steady. "Lord Boremund Baratheon. Though I never had the chance to meet him myself—"
"Yes, yes," Borros interrupted, waving a dismissive hand. "Let's get to the heart of it, shall we? My father pledged his support to your sister, and he was a man of his word till the end."
"I see." Baelon replied, quirking an eyebrow. "You wouldn't repeat your father's mistake, would you, Lord Borros?"
Borros laughed, a hollow sound devoid of warmth. "Perhaps you can guide me in the right direction, then."
"I'm not sure I follow?"
"My ancestor, Lord Orys Baratheon, was Aegon the Conqueror's closest friend—some say they were as close as brothers," Borros said. "My grandfather, Lord Rogar Baratheon, stood by your own grandsire's side when the realm was in turmoil. And my aunt was wed to one of your kin. Surely, Prince Baelon, you understand what I'm getting at."
"You want Aegon to wed one of your daughters, I assume?"
Borros smiled, a slow, calculating grin. "You're a smart lad," he said, his voice oozing with satisfaction. "You know as well as I do that the Throne needs a Baratheon queen. Targaryen and Baratheon, ruling together as one—this is the way the gods intended it."
"I'm sure King Aegon would agree." Baelon said, though the words felt heavy on his tongue. In truth, he knew better. Aegon had no love for the bonds of marriage, preferring the company of whores to the duties of a husband. But the Crown needed allies, and the Baratheons were a house of power and strength. It was the sensible choice, even if it wasn't Aegon's choice.
Borros licked his lips and gestured toward his daughters standing beside his throne. "Choose one of my daughters, and House Baratheon will stand behind your brother."
Baelon's gaze lingered on the daughters of Lord Borros. One, in particular, stood out—youthful, striking, with a beauty that set her apart from her sisters. A fleeting thought passed through his mind; it would please him to choose her. But he quickly dismissed the notion. A queen so young would do the realm no favours.
"I choose the eldest." Baelon declared. He noticed the disappointment flicker across the faces of the other daughters, their expressions darkening. The girl standing closest to Borros, however, lit up with joy, her eyes shining as she bowed deeply, gratitude plain on her face.
"Ah, my daughter Cassandra," Borros exclaimed, his voice brimming with pride as he all but dismissed his other daughters with a wave. "She'll make a fine queen for our king." His tone was resolute as he added, "We'll depart for King's Landing without delay."
Baelon offered a measured smile. "I'm glad to hear it, Lord Borros. The union of our houses will strengthen the realm."
Before Borros could respond, the heavy door of the Round Hall creaked open. Lucerys strode in, four guards trailing behind him. The self-assured demeanour he'd worn upon entering drained away the moment his gaze locked onto Baelon. The boy's eyes widened, and a flicker of fear crossed his face.
"Prince Lucerys Velaryon." One of the guards announced. "Son of Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen."
As if on cue, thunder rumbled through the Round Hall, echoing off the stone walls. The storm outside had grown fiercer, its fury seeping into the chamber like a portent of the conflict that brewed within. The crackling sound seemed to resonate with the tension that now filled the room, tightening like a noose around the young prince's neck.
Lucerys, visibly shaken, tried to steady himself as he tried to focus his attention on Borros instead. "Lord Borros," he began, his voice wavering slightly but firm with purpose, "I bring you a message from my mother, the Queen."
"Yet earlier this day I received an envoy from the King." Borros replied coolly as he cast a glance at Baelon. "Which is it? King or Queen? The House of the Dragon does not seem to know who rules it."
Borros's laughter echoed through the Round Hall, mingling with the rumble of thunder outside. "What's your mother's message?" He asked, his voice dripping with mockery.
Lucerys handed a sealed parchment to one of the guards, who swiftly brought it to Borros. The Lord of Storm's End barely spared it a glance before waving it off, summoning a Maester to read and summarise its contents for him. As the Maester approached, Lucerys kept a hand on his sword hilt, his eyes darting towards Baelon with a wary glance.
Baelon noticed the boy's tension and felt a surge of irritation. Did Lucerys truly believe he would be foolish enough to draw steel here, in front of Borros and his men? The thought was almost insulting.
Borros' voice rang out, sharp as a blade. "Remind me of my father's oath?" His tone was heavy with scorn, as if Lucerys had just committed some grievous offence. "King Aegon at least agreed to marry one of my daughters. My swords and banners for a marriage pact."
His gaze flicked to Baelon, a sly smile curling at the corners of his mouth, before he turned back to Lucerys. "If I do as your mother bids, which one of my daughters will you wed, boy?" The question hung in the air like a challenge, as the storm raged outside.
Lucerys gulped "My lord," His voice trembled. "I'm not free to marry. I'm already betrothed."
"So you come with empty hands." Borros deduced. "Go home, pup. And tell your mother that the Lord of Storm's End is not some dog that she can whistle up at need to set against her foes. "
Baelon's smile was sharp, cutting into Lucerys more than any words could. The younger prince's jaw tightened, his eyes flicking to Borros as he struggled to keep his composure. Ignoring Baelon's smug expression, Lucerys swallowed his pride and anger, choosing his words carefully.
"I shall take your answer to the Queen, my lord." he replied, his tone measured, refusing to give Baelon the satisfaction of a reaction.
As Lucerys made his way to the door, eager to escape the tension in the room, Baelon seized the moment. He stepped forward, his voice cutting through the thunderous ambiance. "Prince Lucerys," he called out, a hint of mockery in his tone. "A moment, if you please."
Lucerys paused, glancing over his shoulder with a mixture of irritation and reluctant curiosity. He turned slowly, his eyes narrowing at Baelon's casual demeanour
"Did you truly believe you could come here, plotting against my brother, and I would simply stand by and do nothing?" Baelon asked, his voice a low growl.
Lucerys forced a smile, though it barely touched his eyes. "I will not fight you. I came as a messenger, not a warrior."
Baelon snickered. "Fight? I've no interest in such folly. I'm no wild beast like my brother, nor like you. I merely wish to converse. Can't I have a word with my nephew?"
"Not in here," Borros declared, waving dismissively toward the door. "You've occupied enough of my time. We must start preparing for King's Landing."
Lucerys wasted no time in making his exit, almost bolting from the room as soon as Borros spoke. Baelon, however, lingered a moment longer, offering a polite smile to the Lord of Storm's End. "Of course, Lord Borros," he said. "I'd hate to delay your journey to King's Landing."
When Baelon stepped into the yard of Storm's End, he found it nearly deserted. The only figures present were a few guards, and there was no trace of Lucerys or his dragon. The storm had intensified, howling louder than before, but Baelon was in no mood to linger. He found Stormcutter half-asleep, her great form huddled against the biting wind. At his command, she roused herself without hesitation, ready to take flight.
As Baelon settled himself atop Stormcutter, he leaned forward, whispering with a sly grin, " We're not heading back to King's Landing just yet. Let's have a bit of fun first."
Stormcutter grunted in response, her wings beating against the stormy skies as they ascended. The tempest raged around them, rain and wind making navigation treacherous, but Stormcutter pressed on, her instincts sharp. Through the veil of rain, she spotted Lucerys and Arrax struggling against the elements, unaware of the shadow looming behind them. Lucerys, desperate to outrun the storm, urged Arrax onward, oblivious to the danger closing in.
" We're not going to hurt them." Baelon commanded. " We're just going to play a little game of hide and seek."
Stormcutter obeyed, climbing higher into the storm-choked skies, her pale form nearly lost in the swirling clouds. She hovered above Arrax, her wings cutting through the gale with ease. On a clear day, Lucerys might have spotted their shadow looming over him, but the storm's fury cloaked them in darkness, making it impossible to see what lay above.
" Found you." Baelon called out, his voice cutting through the roar of the storm. Lucerys yelped in surprise as Baelon swooped down on him, forcing him to veer Arrax sharply to the side. Baelon grinned, the thrill of the chase igniting in his veins. " Now I hide, you seek." he taunted, urging Stormcutter to ascend back into the stormy skies, vanishing into the swirling clouds.
" Stop!" Lucerys pleaded, his voice cracking as he frantically scanned the stormy skies above. " I don't want trouble!" His words were swallowed by the howling wind, as he desperately tried to catch sight of Baelon and Stormcutter.
Lucerys squinted into the storm, trying to pierce through the sheets of rain and swirling clouds, but all he saw were the two looming cliffs up ahead. With no other options, he urged Arrax forward, steering him toward the narrow pass, hoping the jagged rock walls would shake Baelon off his tail. But as they sped through the tight space, Baelon and Stormcutter descended once more, closing in like shadows.
Arrax, sensing the danger, reacted instinctively. The young dragon opened his jaws and unleashed a torrent of fire, the bright flames slicing through the darkness. The sudden blaze nearly blinded Stormcutter, who jerked to the side, narrowly avoiding the fiery breath. Baelon gripped the reins tightly, feeling the heat as Stormcutter veered away, momentarily losing sight of their prey.
" No, Arrax!" Lucerys shouted, his voice barely audible over the roaring storm. Panic gripped him as he felt the young dragon's wild surge of energy beneath him, thrashing against his commands. " Don't do this! Obey me!" he pleaded, desperately pulling at the reins, but the dragon's fear and fury had taken hold.
The two dragons were locked in a deadly dance, their massive bodies nearly intertwined as they hurtled through the storm-tossed sky. Stormcutter's jaws snapped shut around Arrax's neck, the young dragon's screech of pain lost in the howling wind. The force of the bite sent Arrax spiralling downward, closer to the churning waves below.
Baelon's heart pounded in his chest as he struggled to control Stormcutter, pulling hard on the reins. " Calm down!" he shouted, his voice strained with urgency. " Don't hurt them!" But the dragon was beyond reason, her instincts driving her to dominate the smaller Arrax.
Arrax broke free from Stormcutter's grip, the young dragon letting out a pained cry as he sped away, climbing desperately through the storm-laden clouds. But Stormcutter was relentless, her powerful wings propelling her forward with terrifying speed, snapping at Arrax's tail whenever she got close.
They burst through the thick clouds, into the clear sky above, where the sun's light filtered through the storm, casting an eerie glow over the scene. There was a brief moment of calm, the storm's roar dulled by the altitude, before Stormcutter made her move. With a sudden burst of speed, she slammed into Arrax, her larger form overwhelming the smaller dragon.
The impact was so fierce that Lucerys, barely holding on, was thrown from his saddle. He plummeted through the air, his scream lost in the wind as Arrax also fell, a chunk of his wing caught between Stormcutter's jaws. The young dragon spiralled downward, wings flailing helplessly as he tumbled back toward the storm below, while Lucerys' form disappeared into the darkness beneath the clouds.
" No, no, no!" Baelon's voice cracked as he screamed, his heart pounding in his chest. He yanked hard on the reins, forcing Stormcutter into a steep dive. The wind howled in his ears as they plummeted through the clouds, the icy sting of the storm slashing at his face.
" Down, Stormcutter, down!" he urged, desperation lacing his words. The white dragon obeyed, folding her wings close to her body to increase her speed, the world around them a blur of grey and black as they hurtled toward the churning sea below.
Baelon's eyes scanned the chaotic sky, searching frantically for any sign of Lucerys. The boy's body was a tiny speck, falling faster and faster toward the unforgiving waves. Baelon's heart sank as the distance between them closed too slowly, fear gnawing at him with every passing second.
" Faster, faster!" he urged, but he knew it was too late. The sea loomed closer, and Lucerys was slipping away from him, about to be swallowed by the stormy abyss, lost forever in the cold, dark waters.
Baelon's heart raced as he urged Stormcutter to push beyond her limits. The thought of Lucerys crashing into the sea, his body lost to the storm and waves, filled him with dread. He couldn't let this happen—he wouldn't. The consequences would be catastrophic, plunging the realm into a war that could never be undone.
" Faster, girl, faster!" he shouted, his voice raw with desperation. Stormcutter responded with a fierce growl, sensing the urgency in her rider's command. With a powerful thrust of her wings, she surged forward, cutting through the storm like a blade, her form a blur of white against the darkening sky.
The ocean loomed closer, the waves crashing violently below, but Stormcutter swerved at the last moment, her wings slicing through the air as she levelled out just above the water's surface. Baelon reached out, his arms straining as he closed the gap between them and Lucerys. The boy was mere inches from the sea when Baelon's hands finally grasped him, pulling him close before the cold, dark waters could claim him.
Baelon clutched Lucerys tightly, his heart still pounding in his chest as Stormcutter ascended once more, lifting them away from the raging ocean. The storm continued to howl around them, but for a brief moment, all Baelon could feel was the boy's slight weight in his arms, and the breath of relief that escaped his lips.
Lucerys was trembling violently in Baelon's arms, his small frame soaked through from the storm and the near brush with death. His eyes were squeezed shut, his breath coming in shallow, ragged gasps. Instinctively, the boy clung to Baelon, his fingers digging into the fabric of Baelon's cloak as if he were the only thing keeping him tethered to the world.
Baelon, desperate to ease the tension and the boy's terror, forced a grin and tried to inject some levity into the situation. "Well, I suppose that settles my brother's debt." he said, his tone light, though it rang hollow in the howling wind. "I must have given you the scare of your life, eh?"
But Lucerys didn't respond. He didn't even flinch. His lips moved silently, as if he were trying to speak, but no words came out. The boy's fear was too great, too consuming, and it rendered him mute. Baelon's smile faded as he realised that no joke could erase the horror of what had just happened. The reality of their situation weighed heavily on him, the enormity of what could have been gnawing at his insides.
Baelon knew he had to get Lucerys to King's Landing. Dropping him off at Dragonstone would be suicide—he'd never leave unscathed. But the more he thought about it, the more the idea of bringing Lucerys to the capital started to make sense. If they held the boy in King's Landing, Rhaenyra would be forced to tread carefully, fearing for her son's safety. It was a leverage they could use, a way to keep the bloodshed at bay, or at least to slow it.
The thought hardened in his mind, taking root. Lucerys as a hostage might just be the key to making Rhaenyra back down, to make her see that the throne wasn't worth the life of her son. Perhaps, with her child in their hands, she would abandon her claim and be content to rule as Lady of Dragonstone, leaving the Iron Throne to Aegon.
It was a cold plan, Baelon knew, but war was never won by warmth. The dragons would be kept from tearing the realm apart, and Rhaenyra might be swayed to see reason. All it would take was one boy, safely held within the Red Keep, to turn the tides of this looming conflict.
As Stormcutter flew through the storm toward King's Landing, Baelon felt a sense of resolve. He only hoped that Lucerys, still trembling in his arms, would survive the storm that was to come.