Stormlands, Storm's End – 127 AC
I fidgeted nervously outside of Cassandra's chambers, pacing back and forth as her cries of pain echoed through the corridors. My good father, Borros Baratheon, was nearby, trying to keep himself occupied with his youngest daughter, Floris. Both of them were clearly on edge, but Borros masked his anxiety by talking softly to Floris, attempting to distract her from her sister's ordeal.
My time in Storm's End was the best of my life. The oppressive weight of King's Landing, with its endless intrigues and expectations, was lifted. Here, I found a sense of peace and purpose I hadn't known I was missing. I spent most of my days entertaining Floris, who had a sharp wit and a mischievous smile, while Cassandra took on the responsibility of learning how to rule. This new life had curbed my old vices; I no longer felt the need to drown myself in wine or lose myself in the company of whores. Though I still enjoyed a good cup of Arbor gold before bed, it was more out of habit than necessity.
There was a bond between Cassandra and me, one forged through mutual respect and understanding. It wasn't love, but I didn't mind. I understood that Cassandra's primary interest lay in power and securing her family's position, while my own heart would always belong to Sunfyre, my magnificent dragon. Here in the Stormlands, away from my mother's overbearing presence, I was free to fly whenever I wished. Sunfyre was no longer chained or confined, and I reveled in the freedom. I often soared over the Stormlands, feeling the wind against my face, even venturing to the Dornish Marches to quell insurrections from marauding Dornishmen. It seemed they hadn't learned their lesson from their previous encounters with House Targaryen.
Despite the absence of romantic love, I cared deeply for Cassandra. She had become a friend, someone I trusted and respected. Hearing her screams of agony now, as she labored to bring our child into the world, tore at my heart. I turned to Borros, my voice tinged with worry.
"Is it supposed to take this long?" I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.
Borros nodded, though the pain in his eyes mirrored my own. "The first birth is always the hardest," he said quietly. "The mother's body is not used to it. It can take hours."
I nodded, though it did little to ease my anxiety. I felt helpless, useless, standing there while Cassandra suffered. I wanted to do something, anything, to help her, but there was nothing I could do. All I could do was wait, and it was agonizing.
Borros placed a reassuring hand on my shoulder. "She's strong, Aegon. She'll get through this."
I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself. I looked at Floris, who was watching me with wide, curious eyes. I forced a smile, though it felt strained. "How about we go for a walk, Floris?" I suggested, hoping to distract her and myself.
Floris nodded eagerly, her face lighting up. I took her hand, and together we walked through the halls of Storm's End, trying to keep my mind off the screams that still echoed in my ears. I told Floris stories of my adventures with Sunfyre, and the tourneys in King's Landing. Floris listened with rapt attention, her eyes wide with wonder.
But no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't shake the worry that gnawed at me. Every cry from Cassandra's chamber sent a jolt of fear through me. I prayed silently to the Gods, pleading for Cassandra's safety, for the safe delivery of our child.
Hours passed, each one feeling like an eternity. Eventually, Floris and I returned to the corridor outside Cassandra's chambers. Borros was still there, looking as anxious as ever. We resumed our vigil, my heart pounding with each passing minute. I squeezed Floris's hand, drawing strength from her innocent presence.
Finally, the screams stopped, replaced by the sweet, unmistakable cries of a newborn. Relief washed over me, and I exchanged a look of pure joy with Borros. Floris, too, cheered, her excitement palpable. The tension that had gripped us all dissolved in an instant.
Elenda, her face lit up with a wide smile, opened the doors to Cassandra's chambers and informed us that both mother and child were fine. I didn't wait another second; I rushed past her, my heart pounding with a mix of anxiety and elation.
Inside, I found Cassandra looking exhausted but radiant, cradling our son in her arms. Her smile, despite her weariness, was brighter than I had ever seen. I moved to her side, my eyes fixed on the tiny bundle she held so tenderly.
"Aegon," she said softly, "what do you want to name our son?"
"Orys Baratheon, naturally," I replied without hesitation.
Cassandra's smile widened. "It is a splendid name," she agreed, her eyes shining with gratitude and affection. I could almost hear her thoughts: My husband is so sweet, wanting to honor my family and house.
I looked down at my son, my heart swelling with pride and love. Black hair, like his mother's. Blue Baratheon eyes, piercing and clear. He bore no signs of the Targaryen name, just as I had planned.
I thought to myself, A bastard name? Check. The Baratheon surname? Check. My little boy, you are my greatest work yet. And someday, I'll have a daughter to call Saera. Alicent will be so fucking angry.
My thoughts were a mix of triumph and rebellion. I had crafted a life that defied my mother's expectations, a life where I found happiness and purpose outside the oppressive walls of King's Landing.
Cassandra's voice broke through my thoughts. "Aegon, he's perfect," she whispered, tears of joy in her eyes.
I leaned down, placing a gentle kiss on her forehead. "You did wonderfully, Cassandra. Our son is perfect because of you."
We stayed like that for a while, the three of us, wrapped in a cocoon of newfound family. For the first time in a long time, I felt truly content. I knew challenges awaited us, but in that moment, with Cassandra and our son, everything felt right.
Eventually, I turned to see Borros and Floris standing at the doorway, watching us with expressions of pride and happiness. I beckoned them in, eager to share our joy.
Borros clapped me on the shoulder. "Well done, Aegon. You have a strong son. The future of our house looks bright."
Floris peered at the baby, her eyes wide with wonder. "He's so small," she said, her voice filled with awe.
I chuckled. "Yes, but he'll grow. And with all of us to guide him, he'll become strong and wise."
As I held my son close, I made a silent vow. I would protect this family, cherish them, and defy anyone who tried to take this happiness away from us. We had forged our path, and I was determined to see it through, no matter what challenges lay ahead.
A moon has passed since Orys was born, and I've spent most of it in the nursery, playing with my son and savoring the peace of Storm's End. There's something soothing about being away from the chaos of King's Landing and just enjoying the simple pleasures of fatherhood.
Orys is a beautiful baby, I often find myself just staring at him, marveling at how perfect he was. He's still so small, so fragile, but there's a strength in him that promises great things to come. I can already tell he's going to be a handful as he grows. He reaches out his tiny hands to grab at the toys I dangle before him, his baby laugh a sweet melody that echoes through the nursery.
Borros found me here one afternoon, playing with Orys on the floor. The old man had a thoughtful look on his face, as if he was grappling with something heavy. I paused, looking up at him. "What's on your mind, Father?" I asked, shifting Orys onto my lap.
"It's time we took Orys to the Red Keep," Borros said, his voice grave. "He's the grandson of the king, after all. He should be introduced to court, it is tradition."
I sighed, a bit reluctant. King's Landing felt like a distant nightmare to me now. I had given up my Targaryen name and fled from the cesspool of politics and deceit. The last thing I wanted was to step back into that pit of vipers. "Must we really go?" I asked, hoping to dodge the trip. "Storm's End is the only place where I've found any semblance of peace."
Borros's eyes twinkled with a hint of amusement. "I suppose you could avoid it, but Orys is a Targaryen as much as he is a Baratheon. His presence at court is important."
It was then that a spark of mischief ignited in me. A thought crossed my mind, something I hadn't considered before but which now seemed like the perfect way to stick it to Mother. I remembered the way she'd always looked down on me, the way she was always plotting to undermine my choices, and it made me smile.
I grinned at Borros, a smirk stretching across my face. "Actually, Father, I've been thinking. This could be a perfect opportunity for a bit of revenge. Mother will loathe seeing Orys at court. She's bound to hate the look of him, the Baratheon name, and the fact that he's a reminder of her failures."
Borros looked at me, taken aback by my expression. His eyes widened, and he let out a small chuckle. "That smile of yours—it's all Targaryen. I almost forgot the dragon that lurks beneath the surface."
I chuckled, the edges of my smile sharpening. "Dragons are petty creatures, after all," I said, the words dripping with dark amusement. "And I intend to be just as petty."
The thought of Alicent's reaction was deliciously satisfying. I could already imagine her face when she saw Orys, a little Baratheon with his dark hair and blue eyes, paraded before the court. The irony was too perfect. She had tried to keep me chained to the Red Keep, to strip me of my freedom, but I had gotten out and now here I was, returning with a Baratheon heir to stir the pot.
With that thought in mind, I took up the quill and began to draft the letter to King Viserys, informing him of his new grandchild. As I wrote, the words flowed easily, the plan forming into something concrete.
I described Orys's birth, his health, and his future. I mentioned how he was a healthy boy, and how Cassandra was recovering well. I crafted the letter to be as formal and courteous as possible, but I couldn't resist adding a touch of pride in Orys's achievements, even though he was just a baby.
The letter was ready, and I folded it carefully. I handed it to a servant and watched him leave for the hawkery. The anticipation of Mother's reaction made my heart race. I could almost see the look of horror on her face, the way she would try to mask her shock and disappointment behind a façade of regal composure.
Borros watched me with a knowing smile. "You're a dragon indeed, Aegon," he said. "This will be quite the spectacle."
"Let's hope it's a spectacle that'll leave her seething," I said, feeling a thrill at the thought of Mother's discomfort. "It's about time she faced the consequences of her actions."
As the moons passed, I busied myself with preparations for the journey. The thought of returning to King's Landing was still daunting, but it was a small price to pay for the chance to see Mother's reaction. Floris and I spent the remaining days before the journey playing games and talking about the future. I told her stories of old Targaryen glory, of dragons and knights and heroic battles, though I left out the darker parts of history. She listened with wide eyes, her innocent excitement a welcome distraction from the weight of my own thoughts.
And as the day of departure drew near, I took one last look at Storm's End, at the peaceful life I was about to leave behind. I hoped that this trip would be worth the trouble, that it would serve a purpose beyond mere revenge. It's strange to think how much has changed. Storm's End was a sanctuary, a place where I could finally breathe. Now, as I prepare to step back into the lion's den, I feel a mix of excitement and trepidation. With a final glance at the nursery, I took a deep breath and prepared myself for the journey back to the heart of the storm—King's Landing.
King's Landing would not know what hit it.
King's Landing, The Red Keep – 128 AC
I carried Orys through the halls of the Red Keep with a swagger that I hoped would be as obvious as the smirk on my face. There was a spring in my step, a gleeful bounce that I couldn't quite hide. I was about to show Mother just how thoroughly I could rub my victory in her face. It wasn't often I got the chance to put her in her place, but this moment was perfect for it.
Striding into the Throne Room of the Red Keep, I felt like I was walking onto a stage with all the world as my audience. I had donned the brightest Baratheon yellow, Orys was swaddled in a rich black and yellow cloth, a tiny Baratheon stag nestled in the crook of my arm.
As I approached her, I made sure to hold Orys high and out in front of me, as if I was presenting some grand prize. I could see the way her eyes narrowed as she took in the sight of her grandchild. Her expression shifted from the expected courtesy to a barely masked scowl. It was all I needed to see. The way she looked at Orys was as if he was a thorn in her side, a blemish on her perfect plans.
"Mother," I said, trying to keep my tone as sweet as honey, "come and see your first grandson." I could hardly keep from grinning as I gestured to Orys, who was cooing happily. His Baratheon black hair and blue eyes were all on display, a clear sign of his mother's family. I made sure to emphasize those features, holding him up as if to spotlight them.
"Look at my Baratheon child," I said, my voice dripping with exaggerated pride. "Not a single Valyrian trait in sight, just pure Baratheon. Isn't he a sight to behold?" I almost laughed as I saw the looks on the faces of the courtiers. Some were clearly trying not to smile, while others looked genuinely shocked. It was a delicious moment of triumph.
Mother's face was a mask of forced politeness, but I could see the strain in her eyes. It was as if she was struggling to keep up appearances, her lips twitching as she forced out a smile. Her eyes darted to Orys, then back to me, as if trying to find something to say but coming up empty. I could see the fury simmering just beneath the surface, a stark contrast to the calm facade she was trying to maintain.
Otto was beside her, his face a portrait of barely contained annoyance. I could almost see the gears turning in his mind, trying to find a way to salvage their dignity. But there was nothing to be done. The sight of Orys, with his black hair and blue eyes, was a reminder of how thoroughly I had ruined their plans.
I strutted around the court, letting everyone see me and my son dressed in Baratheon black and yellow. I made a show of it, walking slowly, pausing to let people get a good look. I could see the stifled laughter in my siblings' eyes, their barely contained grins as they watched Mother and Otto squirm. They knew exactly what I was doing, and they couldn't have been more amused by the spectacle.
"Mother," I said loudly enough for everyone to hear, "come and see your first grandson! Isn't he just the picture of House Baratheon?" I beamed, making sure to emphasize the word "Baratheon." The smirk on my face must have been practically glowing. "Look at my BARATHEON child," I continued, practically flaunting the words. "Not a single Valyrian trait in sight, just pure BARATHEON!"
Mother's face turned a shade of red that matched the Targaryen colors she used to wear. Her eyes darted from Orys to me, and I could see the rage bubbling just beneath her surface. I leaned in a little closer, as if to offer her a better view, but in reality, I was basking in the satisfaction of her visible discomfort.
The courtiers around us were a mix of snickers and stifled chuckles. I could see Lady Redwyne trying to cover her smile with her fan, while Ser Harwin Strong looked like he was about to choke on his own laughter. Even the most stoic of the high lords couldn't hide their amusement as I paraded my son around, making sure to stop just within view of Mother and Otto. It was a public display of victory, a parade of pride, and everyone could see it for what it was.
"Isn't he magnificent?" I said, raising Orys just a bit higher, as if he were a precious artifact I was showing off to the world. "A true Baratheon, through and through. Black hair, blue eyes, and the Baratheon name. Just look at him!"
The way the courtiers looked at me—some in admiration, others with poorly masked mirth—made it clear that they saw through my act. They thought I was merely a proud father, eager to show off the baby I had with my wife. But I knew better, and I relished the way Mother's eyes narrowed as she fought to maintain her composure.
Mother's gaze was like daggers. She was trying to keep her face neutral, but the tension was clear. Every time I spoke about how Orys looked just like Cassandra, how he was "a fine Baratheon boy," I could see her anger simmering beneath the surface. I was making her face a truth she had been trying so hard to ignore.
Do you see now, Mother? I thought, feeling a wicked satisfaction. This is what you get for trying to manipulate me. This is what you get for all your schemes and plots. I'm not your pawn. I'm not your toy. I'm a Targaryen and a Baratheon now, and I will make sure everyone knows it.
Then, as if the situation needed another layer of dramatics, a lord from the Riverlands approached. He wanted to discuss some business deal with Storm's End, but I saw it as another opportunity to needle Mother.
I turned to the lord with my most charming smile. "My lord," I said, my voice carrying just enough to be heard, "you'll find that my wife is the one you should address these matters to. I'm just the arm candy here, providing her with lovely children." I had to force myself not to laugh outright as I saw Mother's face twitch at the edge of anger.
"You should speak with Lady Cassandra," I said with a mock bow. "I'm merely the handsome accessory."
Mother's eyes widened, and for a moment, she looked like she was about to explode. Otto's face was a mask of restrained fury, but I could see the frustration in the way he clenched his fists. The courtiers around us looked between them and me, their faces a blend of shock and amusement.
The lord from the Riverlands took the bait with perfect timing, bowing to Cassandra and launching into his business proposal. I stood back and let the scene unfold, a satisfied smile on my face as I watched Mother's plans crumble.
My siblings were barely holding back their laughter. Helaena had her hand over her mouth, her eyes shining with barely restrained mirth. Aemond's lips were twitching as he tried not to break into a full-blown grin, and even Daeron had a look of amused disbelief as he watched the whole thing play out. They all knew exactly what I was doing, and seeing it work so perfectly was almost as satisfying as the plan itself.
The more I paraded Orys around, the more I could see Mother's face grow darker, her irritation bubbling up to the surface. I was savoring every moment, every wince, every strained smile. This was my moment to shine, to remind them all that while I might have left King's Landing, I was still a Targaryen—one with a new banner to fly and a new family to flaunt.
The more Mother tried to keep her composure, the more I reveled in the little stings I was delivering. I was like a child who had just been given the best toy and was showing it off to everyone. My heart was light, my mood buoyant, and I couldn't stop the feeling of triumph that surged through me.
As I continued my victory lap, I couldn't help but notice that my siblings' reactions had gotten worse. Helaena had her head bowed slightly, her shoulders shaking as she tried to stifle her laughter. Daeron had finally given up and left the room, most likely to burst out in laughter.
Aemond was leaning against a pillar, his hand over his mouth as he struggled to keep from laughing. I could see the corners of his lips twitching, and it was clear he was having a hard time maintaining his composure. Every time I caught his eye, he gave me a subtle, approving nod, as if to say, "Well done."
When we finally made it back to the quarters reserved for the Baratheon House during our visit to the Red Keep, the moment the doors closed behind us, laughter burst forth like a dam breaking. It was a relief to let go of the composed faces we'd been wearing; I couldn't hold back my own laughter.
Cassandra was the first to crack, her laughter ringing out like a bell, bright and joyful. "Did you see their faces?" she managed between fits of giggles. "I thought the Queen was going to choke on her own displeasure!"
I grinned at her, holding Orys a little closer to me as I said, "I know! I nearly burst into laughter myself when I saw mother's face as I paraded Orys around. The look of pure fury was worth every minute of the trip."
Elenda, always a quiet and reserved presence, was practically in tears as she wiped her eyes. "And the way you just kept flaunting Orys like he was the greatest treasure of the realm! You played that perfectly, Aegon."
Borros joined in the laughter, his deep, hearty chuckles shaking his shoulders. "Aegon, you've outdone yourself. The way you flaunted Orys, and how you managed to turn the business meeting into a spectacle of your own devising—it was masterful."
Floris, standing nearby and still clutching her stuffed dragon toy, looked up at us with wide eyes, trying to stifle her own giggles. "And the way you made that lord think you're just 'arm candy'!" she said through laughter. "I thought he was going to stumble over his own feet."
I couldn't help but laugh along with them, the joy of the day's mischief washing over me. "Honestly, I couldn't resist. Seeing mother and grandfather fuming in the midst of it all, it was like a feast for the soul. I haven't had this much fun since I was a boy."
Cassandra nudged me playfully, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "You were so wickedly brilliant. I never thought you'd pull something like that. It was like watching a great actor perform a dramatic play."
I took a seat beside her, Orys resting contentedly in my lap, and sighed with satisfaction. "It was good to see them squirm. I haven't had much chance to get back at them for all the years of their schemes and manipulations."
Elenda put a gentle hand on Orys's tiny arm, her smile warm as she said, "And you did it with such style. Not a single Valyrian trait on him and a name that has history. Her Grace must be beside herself."
Borros chuckled again, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Today, you showed that you can be just as fiery as Sunfyre himself."
I laughed, feeling a sense of camaraderie with my family, a shared joy in the small victories we had. "Well, they had it coming. We all needed this, especially after everything that's been happening."
Floris bounced up and down excitedly, her dragon toy flopping around. "Can we do it again sometime?" she asked, eyes wide and hopeful.
I ruffled her hair affectionately. "We'll see, little one. But for now, let's enjoy the victory."
