All Hail The King
Chapter 5
Baelon and Daemon were swift in their reactions, making their way to the window, both of them couldn't help but feel a sense of admiration. She'd not only kicked the window out on her bare feet, but had jumped a considerable height and landed expertly on her dragon. Oh, Alyssa would have loved her, Baelon thought, as he watched her leave. A Peverell, he'd had no idea they had survived the doom. All this time they'd survived, and they'd had no clue.
Alysanne, the Queen, clutched Gael to her bosom, staring at the window horrified by what had just happened. Gael herself looked just about done with everything and everyone. She wanted to shove her mother away and placate her at the same time.
"Grandsire! Shall I call the Maesters?" Viserys was first to notice that the king had almost toppled out of his seat, such was the shock of hearing that name.
"Your grace?" Baelon queried, rejoining his family on the other side of the room, "Wherever she's going, she's heading east."
Jaehaerys' hands were still shaking, which he curled up into his cloak, still shaken by the existence of that family. He'd always believed, as had the rest of the families, that only three Dragon Lord families emerged untouched from the doom. Had their abilities persisted throughout time? Did she have their abilities as well as a dragon? The very idea made him nauseous; she could take them out without breaking sweat if the rumours of their abilities were true. It was regretful that the Peverell family were rather…secretive, the true extent of their abilities had always been hidden.
He felt numb, just thinking about her words, he'd done so much to create peace in Westeros, to show that the Targaryen's weren't as bad as Meagor. To think of being compared to him? She could have paid him no greater insult, the idea of her being right was enough to almost close his entire body down in sheer shock of it all. The dragons though? The Targaryen family? The long night? She was talking of Aegon's prophecy, something only his family should know, it had been kept secret, handed down from king to heir.
"Who are the Peverell's? I have never heard of them," Viserys said, only to startle when he saw his male relatives glance at him as if he had grown an additional head in the moments since he spoke. Everyone knew he loved investigating Valyria, but more the landscape and the actual history they could find on it, which regretfully wasn't much. Especially considering the Targaryens had over a decade to bring whatever they wished to Dragonstone before the incident occurred.
They were too busy planning to take over Westeros to think of preserving their history, the Targaryen's hadn't thought about their history but the Celtigers most definitely had. They'd gone back and forth between battles preserving what they could of their glorious empire before it was gone for good. Their island (Claw Isle) was like a small glimpse into Valyria itself. Despite the fact the Celtigers had married outsiders first they truly were proud of their heritage.
Gael was watching them closely, her desire to know evident in every line of her body. Grateful when her mother finally let her go, as if the young girl had been a threat to her to begin with. She wasn't one for learning the history of Valyria, or languages, although she did love to read, and did so extensively. She loved her murmur shows and books and poetry and music.
"I knew it." Daemon proclaimed, with a triumphant smirk on his face. He knew it, he'd been in the library searching through everything he could get his fingers on when he wasn't avoiding Rhea Royce, and lingering in the passageways to get information. "I knew she spoke to Cannibal, stopped him from doing anything before she fell unconscious." Cannibal was as wild as a dragon could become, had never interacted with any of his family or been ridden. They say that the dragon was there before they even started to prepare to leave before the doom. Even commanding the dragon would have little effect, it hadn't been in essence domesticated like the younger dragons were. There was a deep sense of admiration about Daemon as he fervently spoke.
Baelon closed his eyes, by the fourteen flames! His son was infatuated with her. Not that he could blame him, if he didn't love Alyssa so much, he may have given her a second thought. She's the first person to actually get more than a glance since his twin flame had left taking with her their third son, Aegon. She was much too young for him, and he'd never remarry. He still loved his wife and could not bear betraying her in such a way. Marrying in the way of old Valyria, was for this life and the next.
"Grandsire? Should they go after him?" Viserys asked, kneeling before the uncommonly quiet king. "Get a Maester now!" he called, feeling the clammy skin of his grandsire, noticing his vacant expression, and blue tinged lips and fingernails, which were clutched to his chest now.
"His pulse is weak," Gael murmured, taking the kings hand into her own, checking herself, she had learned a bit from the Maesters whilst taking care of her mother during various illnesses.
"Baelon, Daemon, go after her, bring her back here by whatever means necessary," Alysanne declared grimly, this incident weakened their family immensely, nobody could know, which means dozens if not hundreds already were aware of it. Nothing remained a secret in the Red Keep.
"Mother…" Baelon cautioned her, if what they knew was true, they could be sent back in an urn a pile of ashes.
"This is an order from your queen," Alysanne declared curtly. She was in charge while her husband was incapacitated. Baelon would not be in charge of this family until her husband died, until then, he would obey her or suffer the consequences. It shouldn't be Baelon anyway, Rhaenys should be the next future Queen. She should be here, learning the ropes, instead she was reduced to being a Lady of Driftmark.
Baelon bowed stiffly, "Your grace," and exited the room without another word spoken, his son following silently in his wake. He was never more grateful for Daemon's situational awareness – unlike Viserys – for he did not want to make small talk. It was taking his every effort to remain impassive when he just wanted to smash everything in sight. He hadn't asked to be named the heir, hadn't really wanted it, but you don't just say no to the king. It wasn't just his relationship with his niece, Rhaenys that suffered, but the queen treated him with such distain, not even those in Fleabottom got that sort of reaction from her, it made him feel worse than dirt under her shoes. He missed his wife and his brother so much, what he wouldn't give to just to have someone to talk to. Once again, his heart broke into a million pieces, chipping away at each dismissal from the people who should love him unconditionally.
"I'll go to the kitchen," Daemon quietly offered up, before breaking off away from his father, not quite able to hide the excitement he was feeling at the thrill of the hunt. He didn't bother to use the secret passageways, there were too many people about – currently moving out of his father's way hastily – as he stomped towards the front of the keep. Ordering their horses to be ready for them.
The kitchens in turn were bustling with activity, more so than the rest of the keep at this very moment. No surprise, they were creating food for various different people and making the main meals all at the same time. Harried maids rushed out with refreshments and various food platters for their Lords and Ladies and royal family.
"Prince Daemon," the serving girl said, giving a deep curtsy, any disrespect to the royal family was met with immediate dismissal. King Jaehaerys did not give second chances, not when there were plenty of other people who would do the job and do it properly. "How can I help?" eager to serve, especially Prince Daemon, he was always so down to earth and friendly with them.
"My father and I are going on a long flight, we don't know how long we will be, pack up enough provisions for us," Daemon said giving her a crooked smile. "Days not hours."
"Right away Prince Daemon!" she chirped, that was definitely an easy task to perform. Already moving to begin to gather up provisions for the heir and Prince Daemon.
"I haven't taken you from any tasks, Floris?" leaning against the counter, nabbing a lemon cake from the pile.
"No, my prince," Floris called out as she begun to cut up cubes of various meats and cheeses, her cheeks flushing red at the attention. Oh, she knew it wouldn't ever go anywhere, she wasn't so foolish as that. However, it was lovely to get some attention especially from a man such as Prince Daemon. There was no denying he was so very handsome. "I'm happy to help!"
Daemon found the servants and those frequently overlooked to be of immense value with information. They saw everything and were mostly ignored by the general population of the keep. He made sure to play nice with them and they frequently shared all the gossip with him first and foremost. He couldn't be everywhere at once after all. He watched her fill two packs filled with provisions, cheeses, meats, fruits, cakes and breads and bladders of water with one single canteen of wine each. There were enough provisions to last a week if they were careful.
"Hopefully that will be enough for you, my prince," Floris rushed to hand him over the provisions she'd just painstakingly crafted for him.
Daemon inclined his head, taking both packs before rushing off when a servant reminded Daemon that his father was becoming impatient. Given the mood his father was in, he didn't dally around, not that he had done so regardless. The bladders nosily clattered against each other. It took fifteen minutes at a straight run to get towards the entrance of the red keep.
"I'll meet you up in the air, we'll head east, see if we can catch up with her," Baelon accepted the food and water, hastily putting it in the pack on the horse. Short as the journey may be to his dragon, he didn't want it falling out and making him have to retrieve it. They were already losing time as it was, as he glanced up at the sky, which was quite fortuitously clear.
Which was the only fortunate thing about this situation, the things they did know about the Peverell family…honestly, he didn't think they'd survive if they angered her.
"How is the king?" Daemon asked, gracefully mounting his black horse patting it's neck in comfort, an unconscious thing, he did the same with his dragon.
Baelon shook his head, he had no idea, giving one last look at the keep, he urged the horse on and both of them split up. Baelon went straight for Vhagar's nest while Daemon headed to the pit, which would take longer than his father. So, it was no surprise to hear Vhagar roaring overhead before he was even in the dragons pit, someone must have rushed to tell the dragon keepers, since they had Caraxes waiting, unchained in the middle of the pit.
He wasted no time in mounting his dragon, securing himself to his blood wyrm before giving the command to fly, "Soves!" and they took off like a shot. Joining his father and Vhagar in the air, luckily the two dragons were used to each other, and got on quite well. After all, Caraxes used to belong to his uncle Aemon, his father's brother. There was no trouble as they started due east.
As it began to darken hours later, Daemon was very appreciative of his forethought to bring provisions. For they did inevitably have to stop for the night to not only give their dragons a rest, but allow them to hunt and find themselves something to eat.
-0
"She can't be too far ahead," Daemon speculated, his brow furrowed, from where he sat on a log next to a fire that was burning merrily, the dragons had set it before flying off to hunt for something to eat and drink. "But I didn't catch a glimpse of Cannibal, Kepa, not once."
"No, nor I." Baelon answered just as perplexed as his son, "If she was an experienced rider, I'd suggest that was just an attempt to throw us off." And she definitely wasn't an experienced rider, the dragon handlers at Dragonstone had informed them that Cannibal had been there in the days leading up to the woman appearing in Kings Landing.
"She wouldn't need to be an experienced rider," Daemon pointed out, taking a long drink of water from his bladder, "She can speak to dragons." She could likely get them to do whatever she pleased; he'd love to know how far her talents went.
Baelon cursed colourfully in Valyrian, of course, he hadn't even considered that possibility. Sitting down tiredly, rubbing his face, "Don't go getting too attached to this girl, Daemon," Baelon warned, oh, he knew his son liked girls a little too much, given the amount of time he spent with whores, but they'd all done it, they were usually just more discrete. Daemon didn't have a discrete bone in his body, and the King was at his wits end with his antics. This was the first time he'd seen…admiration and desire intwined in one person. For one person. "If by some miracle we get her to return to Kings Landing, she might not survive."
Daemon stared at his father with a face filled with doubt, his father had blatantly tried to lie to his face. For someone raised in the public eye, a royal, his father was a horrendous liar. His brow furrowed, realizing his father was actually worried, terrified actually. His father was one of the bravest people in the world, the bravest, in Daemon's not so humble view.
"If I tell you to leave me and fly away, you do it, Daemon, do you hear me? That is an order from the Crowned Prince and your Kepa." Baelon commanded his son, his gaze boring into Daemons from across the crackling fire, giving them the warmth they needed. regardless Daemon felt a shiver crawl up his spine, perhaps for the first time in his memory, he realized his father was human just like everyone else and not this god that was untouchable. "Vow you will do this, on the fourteen flames." Commanding obedience from Daemon. He'd lost his wife, his youngest boy, he refused to lose Daemon too. He'd never be able to go to the beyond to be with his wife if he let anything happen to Daemon or Viserys.
"I swear on the fourteen flames that if you tell me to leave on the back of my dragon during this order, I'll go." Daemon declared, his hands out in an attempt to ward off the chill that suffused him.
Baelon sighed, giving a nod, glad to hear it, he'd also noticed Daemon's wording to his amusement. "Get some rest, I'll wake you up when it's your turn." They couldn't go the entire night without rest, and they also couldn't leave themselves vulnerable by both sleeping, even with their dragons nearby.
Daemon nodded, before getting himself comfortable as possible, close as he could to the fire for warmth.
Baelon watched over his son, his ears constantly picking up the quietest of sounds. Investigating any that happened to do so, but never leaving further than he could keep his sight on his son. He'd feel better when the dragons returned, he wished he'd packed his riding leathers, but neither had done so. If they'd stopped to do that and more, they'd have lost any ground, but it seemed like they had regardless.
-0
"Drink up, there's a market up that way, we're going to find out if they saw anything," Baelon called out to his son, throwing one of the bladders at him. The dragons opened their eyes hearing their movements, but didn't bother moving, after all they hadn't been given any commands and were quite happy to remain grounded for now. "There's no point in going any further until we have definitive proof she's come this way."
"Essos is that way, she did sound like she was from the Valyrian Peninsula." Daemon suggested, as he rubbed his eyes, yawning tiredly as he stretched out. "Valyrian is definitely her first language." Rather put out with that, he would give anything to have Valyrian be his first language and not the common. Although, he had uttered plenty of Valyrian he was by no means fluent until he began learning on his own.
"She's going home," Baelon realised, had anyone even thought to ask her if she wanted to write to her parents? They were no doubt beyond terrified. She'd been gone at least three or four days; it would cause his own hair to go grey should his sons go missing like that. Unless, she'd gone out on her own with the purpose of obtaining a dragon and something had gone wrong. Either way, she was alone and afraid in an unfamiliar place, he was stupid not to have thought of this sooner. No matter how strong someone was…they'd always want somewhere familiar. Pinching the bridge of his nose, wondering if she believed she was a prisoner and sought to escape?
The very idea of her having a betrothed spurred anger within him, he wanted her, enough that he'd kill whoever her betrothed was in order to obtain her hand. They wouldn't appreciate her fully, not like he could and would. Essos wasn't quite as backward as Westeros, they treated their women better there, and they had more rights. Then his stomach plummeted, unless she was actually already married. It was possible Aemma had married his brother when she was eleven name days.
Daemon stood, gathering everything and putting it away into his satchel and tightened his coin purse to ensure it was secured properly. The provisions they'd bought was already at the bottom of the bag, which he always had secured to Caraxes' saddle luckily. It saved them having to actually carry the rationed foods, kept their hands free in case they had a need for them.
Which in the middle of nowhere, they likely would.
"How busy is it?" wondering if they should just mount their dragons and only come down to ask a single question.
"Not too busy, morning rush hasn't started yet," Baelon answered, ensuring all his weapons were secured and fastened properly. If there were birds anywhere in the vicinity – there wasn't they'd sense the dragons and flee in the opposite direction – they'd just be in the beginning of starting to tweet their morning songs.
That said, Prince Baelon gestured for Prince Daemon to follow, which he did with ease. They headed straight for the marketplace, Baelon took immediate notice of a woman with two children, one roughly three name days old and the other barely three moons. He made a beeline for her slowing down as he got nearby, not wishing to cause her undue alarm.
"Good morrow, well met," he said kindly, noticing her locking up in fear, her grip on her children becoming rather firm. "I seek only information; did you see a dragon going by?"
The oldest child, a boy, gasped and nodded eagerly, his dirty blond hair moving with his wild movements. He emphasised by pointing at the sky, as if to say that's where it came from.
"It was up there, was it?" Baelon said indulgently, "Was it black like this," gesturing towards his doublet.
"Tis' Black!" the little boy said, it made Baelon consider he might be older than three considering his speech.
Baelon glanced up at the mother, who nodded, "It went by before the sun rise. it's eyes were green." She shivered just remembering it, it was just so eery.
Daemon straightened up at that, it couldn't have been that far up if she'd seen its eyes, which meant she'd been nearby herself in the evening. "It was only just in the air when you saw it?"
"Where that bird is," the little boy insisted jumping up and down, attempting to get out of his mother's hold to meet the nice new people.
Daemon and Baelon glanced up, yes, she'd definitely rested somewhere nearby, very close by actually. Glancing at the woman again who nodded, her threadbare clothes denoting a struggle, but the children were clean, if not a little bit on the thin side. Opening his coin purse, he fished out coins, three gold dragons, fifty silver stags and half a dozen pennies. He gave all but one of the silver stags to the mother before handing one silver stag to the boy, before ruffling his hair, not that he noticed, too awed over the coin in his hand.
Having got the information, they sought; they inclined their heads before leaving. "Should we see where she camped out, Kepa?"
"No point, it hasn't been that long since the sun rose, we might be able to catch up with her if we're swift enough," Baelon answered, as they both begun to run back towards their dragons at a fast pace. "It's a miracle we've managed to trail her this far, we didn't catch a sight of Cannibal the entire we were in flight." Which was somewhat puzzling, since they clearly didn't have too big a head start. Dragons weren't easily missed whilst in the sky.
Turns out they ended up in the sky for over ten hours before they caught sight of Cannibal. In Essos.
In what they'd come to realize was the Peverell Keep.
-0
The two Dragon Lords guided their dragons to land, giving Cannibal a wide berth, the last thing they wanted was for Cannibal to attack either one of them. Although, Baelon was positive between Vhagar and Caraxes they could take on Cannibal but it would likely come at a great cost. Cannibal didn't normally go after healthy dragons, usually eggs, baby dragons and dead dragons. So, he felt it best not to tempt fate.
The sight that met their eyes whilst on the ground was concerning, a pile of bodies lay discarded to the right of them. Dozens of urns sat on the cobblestone path. The grass was saturated with old dried blood, and badly burnt, by a dragons flame no doubt. Had she been attacked here and brought to Kings Landing by her dragon? No, not possible, this entire thing was completely baffling. He opened his mouth about to ask her exactly what had happened, as she scooped up ashes into another urn.
"You took your time, I expected you ages ago," Haera commented, as the two Princes approached, she didn't give them any curtsy's, they weren't in Westeros, and honestly? If she had to curtsy right now, she was going to end up on the floor, her exhaustion was very real and very evident in every line of her body as she struggled to keep herself upright. She was moving about like a newborn deer, such was the ache and shaking of her body, the long ride did not help matters and this was coming from someone used to long flights.
Daemon just watched her half in utter besotted admiration and concern, "Did you sleep at all last night?" this wasn't just aches due to flying, she was fatigued.
Haera snorted, "No," like she was going to be able to sleep in an unknown environment even with magic to protect her. She'd stopped for the night and urged Balerion – the name he'd chosen for his dragon – to go get something to eat or drink. It had taken her over an hour to move and actually sit down.
Bending down, she plucked three urns before thrusting them at Daemon, before claiming another three for herself. The gods had decided on a course of action, but as usual Haera had to mess it all up, it was their fault, she'd told them. Still, she was going to get Balerion back for stabbing her, although, she knew it was likely the only way she'd end up meeting the Targaryens in order to help them, he'd likely seen her change the course at the last second.
Truthfully, she wasn't sure she actually wanted to help the Targaryens, but for that girl, she'd do it. "Follow me," she told him, before striding back into her keep.
Daemon gestured with his head, towards the top of the doorway, the Peverell family crest there for all to see. Further confirming what they'd been told already. All this time there had been another Valyrian family having survived the doom, and one of the most powerful families at that.
The dragon emblazoned with claws deep into the triangle with a circle and line through it. If one looked close enough at the family crest, they'd notice that the circle was in fact a snake. The Peverell family like Merlin were in every single world, in every single universe in all the world. In every single one of them, they were necromancers and oftentimes Parseltongue's with their habit of marrying into the Slytherin line.
Under normal Daemon would have taken an extremely antagonistic view of anyone treating him this way. He was too besotted to find the situation as enraging as he ought to. Instead, he was quick to make his way into the keep, absently noticing the fighting had been inside as well.
He blindly followed her into a room, only to feel…something stirring within him, a warm welcome suffusing him. It was the only way he could explain it, it was like when he bonded with Caraxes for the first time. "What was that?" almost breathless as gooseflesh appeared over his arms. He almost dropped the urns he'd been given.
"The fourteen flames welcoming you," Haera explained, as she put the urns into position.
There were fourteen pillars which had dragons carved out in them, with faces etched above them, how stone could be ethereal was beyond his understanding. However, they were so beautiful depicted that he was in awe, even the dragon scales were magnificent. At the bottom had a candle for each and every Valyrian god and goddess. A lot of people had one god in particular they prefer to pray to above all others, yet it seemed here they were treated equally, Daemon rather liked that. This room vividly reminded him of Dragonstone, the etchings, the stones, the feelings suffusing the room.
Baelon brought in the rest of the urns, not trusting Daemon not to piss off the Lady Peverell. Then again, knowing his son, it would likely be the opposite he'd attempt. By the fourteen flame he didn't want to piss her off if she was capable of even a quarter of what the books imply. It was odd, they never wrote down what the Peverell family was capable of, only ever wrote around it and implied very heavily in a veiled manner. It was almost like they were incapable of writing it down. Which was ludicrous, wasn't it?
"Thank you," Haera said, accepting the urns before putting them in the large crevice's in the stones, intended for such things. Although, it was normally only for family, but these people didn't have family, its why she'd done the funeral rites for them, Valyrian ones at that since they were Valyrian and believed in the fourteen.
"What happened here?" Prince Baelon commanded with all the weight of his position behind him.
Haera tiredly rubbed her eyes and nose, would it be too rude to tell them to piss off and leave her alone? Surely, she could help them without marrying into the family? What chance did she have of succeeding now? The gods could have told her that king Jaehaerys was a massive, massive misogynistic prick. To think they'd wanted her to come down here as a woman for what? He almost, almost deserved the hellfire that was about to come down on him.
Pursing her lips, grumbling in annoyance, well, she'd went into all this effort for months, it wouldn't hurt to play along and see where it went. She had been bored after all, speaking to the Valyrian gods had been staving off the boredom just and no more. She took the last of the urns and set them together, it had been a family. They deserved better than to just bake in the sun as their bodies rotted.
"My parents died when I was one name days old, I was raised by my aunt and uncle," Haera explained, she had kept her 'story' similar to her first life. It was helpful in the manner that she wouldn't forget her backstory. With that she exited the temple, keeping the door open for them as well. "My father Jaehys married my mother Lilana, they got five years together, before they were murdered just for who they were." Stopping before the portrait, it was James and Lily with Valyrian features, instead of brown and red hair, they had platinum hair, instead of green and brown eyes, they were bright purple but despite their difference in features, Haera would recognize them anywhere.
Both believed they'd been killed because they were Valyrian and their abilities and it was a misconception Haera wasn't about to clear up.
"My aunt married an Andal and had a half-breed son," Haera said, disgust coating her voice, a shudder wracking her frame. Moving down to the kitchen, she pointed out that particular 'son' and both couldn't help but grimace in disgust. They'd seen pigs more attractive. "Too bad we weren't in Valyria; such unions were forbidden."
"Excuse me?" Baelon enquired genuinely fascinated to learn something new, "Do you know why?"
"How much of your own history have you forgotten?" Haera asked aghast, didn't they know? "Andal's have no magic, not like First Men or us. He's prime example of it, he was slow in the head, and check out his hands and feet, six fingers, six toes on each, he's never held a sword in his life, all he does is sit and sleep, eat and repeat. Magic keeps any problems that might arise through incest from plaguing us. Mating with Andal's though? Bad idea, within a generation or two, signs become evident. Unmistakable signs, truthfully, he was a walking medical miracle, they said he wouldn't live past ten name days."
Baelon blinked, utterly fascinated, "Do you have any written information on such things?"
Haera smirked, a delicious sinful thing that definitely caught both their attentions, humming softly, "How are you with your Valyrian glyphs?" a thoughtful frown on her face, pondering on which book would have the best affect over all.
"Daemon is without a doubt the best when it comes to glyphs, he's spend a considerable amount of time on them. We have a few tomes that are completely written in Valyrian glyphs to date, Daemon is the only one that has successfully read them cover to cover." Baelon declared proudly, patting his son on the shoulder, delighting in the red in his cheeks, wondering if it was embarrassment at his praise or something else. "I am not too terrible myself." Eyeing the rotten corpse of the girls cousin, who she clearly detested.
"You loathe him, why is that?" Daemon asked, trying to turn the attention back to the situation at hand. He wanted to know everything about her. Immediately reaching out to grip her firmly when she staggered, little wonder if she hadn't even slept last night, a unique situation where he wanted to reprimand someone and praise them for their forethought. Sleeping out there on your own was never a good idea, and gender truly did not come into it. Although, the very idea of her actually having books he hadn't read on Valyria was enticing enough. It wasn't just the fact he was half-Andal, although he suspected it was a good part of the reason.
"Other than for all the reasons I said before?" Haera asked amused, "My aunt and uncle were trying to force a betrothal on me to that sack of shit. To gain my inheritance through him. Didn't work. I was rather fortunate that my parents ensured if anything happened to them, that any marriage would be my choice. My inheritance wouldn't be released until I confirmed my acceptance of the marriage or I come of age. They learned the hard way I refuse to do as they bid."
Daemon straightened up as if he'd just been electrocuted when goblets and wine floated through from the kitchen presumably? His violet eyes the size of dinner plates as he observed it, with tiny twitches of her finger two of the goblets flew towards him and his father the last one delicately landing by Haera. Was she truly doing that? How could she be doing that? It hadn't said anything about…this levitation. He couldn't help but raise his hand above the wine container and tried to see if there was anything above it, like string or anything of the sort. There was nothing.
Baelon's eyes darkened considerably, easily figuring what exactly they'd done. "They were responsible for your injuries?" his tone dark and almost seething. Accepting the goblet positively brimming with questions, and a simmering excitement that was held back only by the information he was gleaning from the girl.
"Oh no, well, not directly," Haera replied with a huff of amusement, "They decided the best thing to do was sell me, killed good people to do it too." A glimmer of rage suffusing her, all feigned of course, there had never been an aunt and uncle, and she certainly hadn't been sold. The gods had come up with a 'cover story' that would pass royal inspection. Until she'd gotten over her amusement had told them she could have anyone believing whatever she pleased with one single spell. She was sure Balerion had stabbed her because of that.
"How did you get away?" Baelon asked, yes, she was much like Alyssa, she made him miss his wife so much and it was always a burning hole in his heart but days like today made it worse.
"Drugs wore off, idiots didn't even notice," Haera smirked, "After that it was easy to get rid of them all, even the bastard that managed to get me, poked the sword right through his throat, zero chance of survival." She got the last laugh, she always would. Touching the wound delicately, she ponded actually healing it fully but didn't want to risk too many questions, too many people knew about the incident.
"And how did that end up with you in Kings Landing?" Daemon enquired; the wine was unnaturally cold. He felt like he was bursting at the seams to ask so many questions. It was his royal training that was stopping it, and despite his best efforts he felt like he was going to literally explode if he didn't get answers to his questions.
"They took me by boat, the gods only know how long it was, the blade ran me through and I tipped over, into the water." Haera shrugged indifferently, lying through her teeth, "Managed to get myself onto an outcrop, next thing I know there's a dragon in my face, nudging me, and from there the bond formed." Which by the way, this was all true, Balerion had dropped her into the sea and she managed to get onto an outcrop near Dragonstone and the rest was history, she'd felt the bond to Balerion before she saw the dragon though, given who she was, it wasn't surprising.
"Can you do more than levitate?" Daemon blurted out, unable to contain his questions any longer.
Baelon remained silent as he watched Daemon come alive, so utterly enthusiastic in way that Baelon hadn't seen in such a long time. He hadn't seen him this way since he was a child, a young boy of what…eight name days perhaps? It made him feel incredibly nostalgic those were the days before he lost his brother, before the losses begun to ground them down to dust. His most ardent protector had passed and he'd been thrust into the spotlight. He noticed that Haera wasn't revealing very much, but considering everything (they were relative strangers after all) he didn't blame her one bit. He also watched a full meal (a roasted turkey of all things) be made in a matter of a few minutes. With root vegetables and potatoes and all the fancy trimmings he knew would have had the cooks slavering in the kitchen for nearly an entire afternoon before it was ready. Yet, pft, it was done, he'd never seen anything like it. He watched vegetables roast in front of his very eyes!
Now he was beginning to understand why there were no words in the books that mention the Peverell's. There were none too had, any mentions wouldn't give voice to the wonder he'd observed this night. Would her children have the ability? Where and how did she learn it? The king was going to be...god be good, he didn't even know how he'd react to be honest. He'd never been faced with this sort of thing before. At least not since before the doom.
Despite their exhaustion, they spoke for hours before retiring with a full stomach and as they did, both Daemon and Baelon realised they'd genuinely enjoyed themselves. Not once had she tried to gain their favour, tried to entice herself to them, and more importantly, she'd never once treated them like royalty. The only worrying thing was the fact during the entire time, there had been nobody around at all. It was highly irregular. Cooks, servants, someone anyone but there hadn't been anyone not even a Gardner or someone concerned about her enough that the bodies had lain there for who knows how long.
He hadn't spoken of returning her to Kings Landing with them, nor his fears and worries about the king. He would broach that topic tomorrow.
The fact that they'd sat and ate and chatted with dead bodies surrounding them was surely immaterial.
Haera just found the entire thing amusing. What a strange world she was in. Most people she was used to interacting with (other than the gods) would have shrieked the rafters down and bolted. Okay, she was beginning to enjoy the Targaryens company now, at least two of them.
A/N – Not fully satisfied with this chapter like at all, but I suppose I could have them thinking on the magical displays later. Either that or I'll edit it, I'll let you know what I do If I do anything :)
I like to think Daemon isn't quite as hardened as we see him as in the series, and a bit freer since he hadn't actually yet been forced to marry Rhea. He'll still be mercurial, loyal to his family, jaded but less so. Yes, Haera went home or what's supposed to be her home in Essos. Will they immediately travel after their 'marriage' or will we see them making differences in Kings Landing before leaving? Or will they remain in Kings Landing indefinitely? Hmm I've seen a few of each types of stories but I am leaning very heavily towards them travelling a lot. Will Jaehaerys be able to change or is it already too late for him? Will Haera save Baelon and prevent Viserys becoming king? Will he still kill Aemma for a son or will Haera manage to put a stop to it? She's far from the savior she used to be in her first life, hardened by time but still bored enough to do favors for others…if I was to show where they went and expand on it where would you like to see them? the north is done a lot but I think it's only because of the series showing it a lot more than anywhere else really but that's my guess! R&R
