King's Landing

The capital city of Westeros was abuzz with excitement and merriment.

His Grace, King Viserys I Targaryen, has decreed a grand ceremony to celebrate his reign and mark auspicious events such as the Prince, Baelon Targaryen, confirming that the Targaryen banner will fly over the shipping lanes at the Stepstones.

Indeed, not just the crown but the whole of the Westeros will benefit from such wealth that is sure to come.

Nearly all of the dragons flew about the city, from Arrax to Vermax and Tessarion to Moondancer and so on. The royal fleet, joined by the Velaryon fleet and twelve Redwyne ships paraded around Blackwater Bay.

Rhaenyra watched from her father's room, "A second age of dragons is what he said on the day of my wedding." She said and turned to look at her husband.

There were so many that had riders, her sons and Alicent's sons, and one of her new daughters as well, all with a place within the pit. Whereas Vhagar, Aemond's dragon, was within the Kingswood, the need for room inside the dragonpit required the old one to dwell farther away.

Tyraxes, Joffrey's dragon, remained at Dragonstone, along with Stormcloud as Joff was only five and Aegon was three.

"I remember." The two looked to where her father lay unconscious and in his sleep.

They arrived not long after the raven came to Dragonstone. At first, it was just her and Daemon who arrived at the Red Keep, but their children followed shortly thereafter, her youngest sons escorted by Lord Corlys and her daughter Rhaena.

She had been shocked to see how her father had deteriorated over the years she was away.

Acting fast, she had Maester Gerardys take over for Grand Maester Orwyle. She hopes Gerardys's skills and experience as a healer will do more than Orwyle's, who was more equipped as a historian and teacher, having been an Archmaester of the Citadel.

Her father's terrible condition wasn't all, as the Red Keep had become a far cry from the happy place it was during her childhood years.

The symbols that once represented Valyria and its Targaryen history had been substituted with the Seven Stars of the Andal faith. In that revealing moment, she acknowledged that it was the first time she had seen so many Septas and Septons since her childhood when the Old King still ruled from the Iron Throne.

She had come to slowly regret fleeing with her sons and Laenor, a terrible action that allowed Alicent and the Greens to all but control the Red Keep.

"Perhaps with how Father has become so helpless, we may remain here," a shadow covered the light and left a moment afterward. Rhaenyra looked and saw her little brother finally arrive home.

Daemon seemed a little impressed. "Archonei looks large." Large indeed, Mōrī Sȳndor (Last Shadow) was what the beast was named.

The dragon had hatched on the day of the Great Council. Her father mentioned that it was as black as the Black Dread, and Jaehaerys also mentioned the same with the King having had been young enough to see Balerion before the dragon left with Princess Aerea on his back.

Archonei appears to be the dragon come again.

The celebration was in his honor. Baelon will bask in the people's love all the way through the city before he reaches the Red Keep. She offered to aid Alicent in preparing, but Her Grace assured her that she had everything underway before the family started to gather.

Lords and Ladies from the Crownlands, Riverlands, Vale, Stormlands, Westerlands, and the Reach have come to celebrate.

Rhaenyra walked toward her father's side. "Father?" she called sweetly, and the King awoke, looking at her with his only eye. Baelon is home. Should Daemon bring him to you?"

Viserys slowly rose to a sitting position with Gerardys' help. "No, I shall sit the throne one last time to see my son... My only son." The last thing was whispered so quietly that she barely heard it.

As much as she insisted, her father pushed to welcome Baelon as a King, not a bedridden man.

She only hoped Baelon had left the bitterness he had carried back at the Stepstones. "Daemon, I shall escort my father." Daemon didn't look at her, his eyes remaining on his brother, who was carried out of the room by Ser Erryk Cargyll and Ser Willis Fell.

The Prince didn't know what to expect when he arrived.

When arriving at the Dragonpit, he dismounted from Archonei. Looking up, he spotted other dragons belonging to his brothers Aegon and Daeron and his nephews flying theirs with Princess Rhaenys.

Nostalgia hit him upon entering the pit and seeing the dome and columns where the dragons would be. He remembered when he, his siblings, and his nephews all trained in the Valyrian tongue to control their mounts.

"Brother?"

Aemond walked closer, and Baelon was a little dumbfounded that the one-time runt was nigh on taller than himself, at least a half a foot. His brother was dangerous looking and had a handsome face, his lilac eyes a bit darker and altogether more mature.

Baelon smiled and embraced his favorite brother, "You look well, little brother."

"You as well, elder brother. I heard of your triumphs in the Stepstones."

Baelon waved his hands. "An escalation of what actually occurred; much of the credit goes to my fleet and Archonei." He and Aemond walked and spoke of their time separated over the last few years.

The two Princes accompanied one another to the Red Keep, joined not long by Quenton, who escorted his cart of belongings from his new ship.

Journeying through the city, he and his brother were set upon by smallfolk and thrown with praise and 'may they bless you, Prince Baelon.' He couldn't help but lie back and enjoy the shower of respect, wondering if his father had spread the word so that this outcome would be thus.

Units and units of patrolling Goldcloaks were seen. "The City Watch certainly isn't lacking in discipline with the absence of Uncle Daemon and Ser Harwin Strong." He mentioned, and Aemond chuckled.

"The Rogue Prince surely trained his higher-ranked men well before gallivanting the East." Baelon barked with laughter to Aemond's statement, he truly was a wandering strumpet, wasn't he?

Then again, so was he; the only difference was he stayed in Westeros until he rode off to war in the Stepstones.

Entering through the Keep's main gate, he was greeted with another familiar sight of Ser Harrold and Aegon.

"Lad, it's good to see you!"

"And I you, good Ser. I daresay you haven't aged once since I left." Baelon said with a proud expression, shared with the knight. Baelon then turned to face Egg and for a moment, he didn't quite know what to say.

He loved all of his siblings, even if they were thorns at his side when they were all young and wet behind the ears. Aegon also looked as if he had just woken up from slumber.

In the end, the two said nothing other than embraced one another reluctantly, as if the Gods were forcing them to do so. Aemond chuckled at the moment, though outdone when they heard a barrel of laughter from the gate.

"You two look like the time Helaena was forcing her two spiders to mate."

Daeron, at the young age of fourteen, was the youngest among them. As a disrespectful comment was made, Baelon and Aegon let out a disapproving cough. Following this, Baelon confidently descended the steps and stood face-to-face with their youngest brother.

"Did you even grow beneath the shadow of that Hightower? I could swear you are a dwarf." Baelon poked, hardly seriously.

Daeron had been their gentlest sibling, often chasing them and eager to please, but Baelon saw that his little brother was not starting to become a man in his own image.

The four siblings were interrupted when Harrold put a hand on Baelon's shoulder and said, "His Grace needs to see you, Prince." Yes, right.

His brother accompanied him into the keep and through the doors leading into the throne room. His father was seated on his throne, and beside him was his uncle Daemon. On the right were a Maester and his sister, who smiled as if genuinely glad to see him.

Baelon had to stop himself from gasping, his eyes laid on his once proud father.

The years were not kind to the King. Viserys was thinner than he used to be, and his face was worn, or what he could see as he wore a golden mask on the one side of his face that covered his right eye.

He pitied the sight he saw, yet he kneeled as is customary. "Father, I have returned home."

"Rise, my son." His Grace gestured for him to come closer.

Baelon had to admit, he's never been this close to the Iron Throne. He dreamt nightly of one day sitting it, ruling from it... Claiming it. And now that he is here, he can't help be feel a sense of unease.

With a free hand, his father reached and caressed his cheek, "You have your Mother's eyes." Slowly, son and father embraced one another, and the sounds of the court echoed in a clap of hands and cheers.

The day was ending, and the feast hall was loud with merriment and song; Lucerys was on the dais with some of his family and was toying with his food.

Jace nudged him on the shoulder, "What's wrong?" Of course, he would know; a sigh left the second son of the Crown Princess.

"I'm just not comfortable," He looked close to where his uncle Baelon was standing with Aemond.

Luke shied away when his uncle's cold stare found him, and he felt the courage to leave the table fade. Jacaerys looked where he was and then frowned, "Come on, let's confront them." he wanted to shout and resist, but his brother had him up and on his feet as quick as he could form a word.

Baelon and Aemond eyed their approach, and Lucerys felt like running.

"Nephews, what do I owe the pleasure?" The Prince asked.

Jace spoke first, "I just wanted to congratulate you on your victories, Uncle Baelon." His brother said, and Baelon looked at them as if surprised they would say anything at all.

Luke often felt jealous of Jace's bravery and 'first to act' attitude, which he inherited from their father, Laenor.

The stubborn and determined nature was inherited from Ser Harwin, their biological father, who tragically lost his life alongside their grandfather within the perilous towers of Harrenhal.

Baelon hummed, sipping from his Arbor gold, "Well, thank you, Jace. Someone had to do it, no?" The Prince said so snarkily.

"I know our grandfather wouldn't have made it back home were it not for you and Archonei," Jace mentioned.

Aemond chuckled, "Yes, Baelon said before he arrived that the Lysene Admiral had the Sea Snake in a trap. It's a miracle his hide was saved." Luke frowned, then turned sideways and saw his grandsire and grandmother speaking with his sisters, Baela and Rhaena.

"Corlys is a veteran of the sea, I am sure he would have found victory in such dire straits." Baelon added and then laid eyes on Lucerys, "You are quiet, Luke. Please, speak for our senses which drain with these cups." His uncle laughed, holding up his cup of wine.

"I... Sorry, Uncle. I am unwell and, prefer to remain silent."

"Though you weren't silent when you slashed my face, were you?" The four and the surrounding around them quieted, and from the dais, he saw his mother and stepfather standing to their feet.

Luke shook. Jace's face stiffened, and hands clenched into fists. Aemond stood silent while Baelon kept his eyes right on him.

The scar on his uncle's cheek, where his brother's dagger marked the divide between them all. Then Baelon bellowed in a hale of laughter that surprised and honestly worried the Seven Hells out of everyone, especially him.

His Uncle slapped a hand on Luke's shoulder and tightened a grip on his cloak, "The dangerous wiles of childhood, I forgive you, Nephew."

Luke was still terrified but he did end up smiling in the end.