Chapter 14: Challenge

Jaime:

"Betrothed?"

The next morning Jaime found him in Elia's chambers where they broke their fast together. They were usually accompanied by Tyrion, but his little brother was still asleep, and Jaime thought with a topic this sensitive it was better to let him sleep a bit longer.

"It is not official," Jaime clarified, "But it appears Lord Dayne was approached about a possible betrothal between Lady Ashara and Prince Daeron."

They had a light spread before them of various fruits including: grapes, and oranges, some cooked eggs with bacon and baked flatbread.

Elia sat across from him, looking radiant even in the early morning. She dressed in orange silks that clung to her body in a way that had Jaime on more than one occasion miss his mouth with his food due to distraction.

She had only laughed and shook her head when she caught him. She had put a little bit of everything onto her plate, but now it seemed forgotten after telling her what Prince Daeron had told him.

"No wonder there has been no word from Starfall," She said sympathetically, clearly hurt for the friend she loved so dearly. "He will rebuff Ned in favor of this promise."

Jaime nodded, "That is what the prince fears."

They are not the only ones, Jaime had wanted to say it last night. However, like a coward he cloaked himself in silence.

"Jaime?" Elia's eyebrows furrowed in concern, "You're quiet."

"It is nothing, my princess," He didn't want to sully her hands with his family's scheming.

That did not placate her. "I'll be the Lady of the Rock someday," she pointed out, "Your secrets should be mine. Your burdens should be mine."

Jaime looked to see the seriousness in her features, the pleading hue in her eyes to allow him to open up to her, to trust her. In seeing her before him, he found his resolve cracking. "Lord Dayne is not the only one who is pursuing a match for Prince Daeron."

"Ah," Elia's face softened, "Your father wants one between him and his daughter."

Jaime gave a tight nod. He felt relief wash over him now that he unburdened himself with that secret. The guilt had been gnawing away at his insides like a vicious beast.

"You are too harsh on yourself," She stood up and made her way to his side of the table. "You are a good man." She told him, cupping his face between her hands. "And a good friend," She assured him, "Please do not forget that."

"I won't," he found himself lost in her golden eyes, shimmering with adoration. What did I do to deserve you? He wondered, finding himself thankful for the Dornish princess before him, who would soon be his wife.

"Good," she smiled, "You are not alone in this, my love," she reminded him. "We are one," She kissed his brow, "And we will make sure this betrothal is made."

"What?" Jaime hadn't expected that.

"Yes," she looked amused by his reaction, "I am not fooled by this betrothal between House Dayne and the Iron Throne. I understand what it is, and I will inform my brother of its plot too. It is not accidental."

"You will help my sister? My family?" Jaime knew that if the roles were reversed, his sister would not reciprocate this generosity. She would sneer, and mock, perceiving asking for help as a weakness.

"You forget, they will be my family too."

They do not deserve you, Jaime wanted to say. "How shall we move forward?" Realizing it was better to listen to her counsel then trying to take the lead. "Shall I say something to the Prince?"

"Not yet," Elia shook her head, "We should be honest since it does us no favors to lie to him."

Jaime knew she spoke truly, but it didn't mean that he wasn't disappointed. He was hoping the time of keeping this secret from his closest friend was at an end.

"It will not be forever, Jaime," Elia seemed to sense his conflict. "Only a short while, but knowing the prince he would agree to it in a heartbeat if it meant no to the Dayne betrothal."

"Then isn't in our best interest to tell him?" Jaime frowned.

"No, because Prince Daeron cannot decide who he will marry," she answered patiently. "If word leaked of this possible betrothal between your families then whomever is pushing the Dayne arrangement will tirelessly work to see theirs through," she explained, "We must let them believe they have time. Lull them into a sense of complacency and then we strike."

"Very well," Jaime agreed, impressed by her and said as much.

She took his praise with a bright smile. "You forget that I've been taught by my mother and Prince Doran."

Jaime wouldn't allow her to deflect the compliment completely. "My family will be thankful and the Westerlands will prosper by having you as their future Lady of the Rock."

"Oh?" There was a teasing lilt that he found intoxicating with her exotic accent. "And what of you? Will you be thankful too?"

"Especially me," He grinned, realizing how close their faces were. His eyes flickering to her lips which were curved into an impish smile.

"Show me."

"It was an outrage!" The Lord of Storm's End paced, muttering curses and protests of Lord Dayne's declining of the proposed betrothal between his friend and Lord Dayne's sister, the Lady Ashara.

Ned had barely spoke of the trip. This allowed Robert to retell their story of their time in Starfall. He tried to add a few embellishments to it to paint a unflattering view of Lord Dayne. Those had been the only times Ned had spoke and he did so only to correct his friend.

Jaime glanced over at the prince, to see he remained quiet. He hadn't even flinched at Robert's rage, which was an impressive feat unto itself. Especially when Robert mentioned his warhammer and using it on the suitor so as Ned could marry Ashara.

"How can you be so calm about this, Ned?" Robert demanded, who had spoke and acted as if he was the slighted party and not his friend.

"Lord Dayne has his reasons," Ned's tone didn't betray the bitterness of a spurned suitor, "She is his only sister and means to forge alliances." He frowned, conveying his opinion on how the woman he cared for was viewed as, "I am after all, only a second son," he sighed. "Hardly a prized alliance."

"Bullshit," Robert dismissed, "You're the finest man I know," He clapped Ned on the back, "My apologies to current company."

Jaime waved it off, "No, for once you may be right, Robert."

"My cousins speaks true, Ned," Daeron added his thoughts.

Boosted by their words, Robert continued, "And if its land you need, I'm the Lord Paramount of the Stormlands," he thumped his chest with his closed fist. "I can grant you land." His blue eyes shining at his promise, "And if no good land can be found then I'll just kick someone out of their castle and give it to you."

"Robert," Ned sounded torn between exasperation and amusement.

"Only a jest, Ned," Robert looked pleased with himself at having to finally get him to smile.

"Thank you," Ned made no attempt at accepting or declining the generous offer.

Jaime felt compelled to speak too. To offer land as well if needed to help Ned strengthen his chances with Lady Ashara, but he was not the Lord of Casterly Rock. I cannot give you land, he thought, but after talking with Elia, he was hopeful that he could do better: insure his friend could marry his dornish love.

"Were you able to see her at all?" Jaime knew the distance between them was difficult for the second son of Lord Stark to deal with.

"I did," Ned's face softened, "She was as lovely as ever."

Robert smiled, "Aye she was." He held up his hands when Ned turned to him, laughing as he did, "Peace Ned, you know I would never."

That was when Prince Daeron spoke up. "There is something you should know."

Jaime sent his friend a look, but was ignored. He moved his attention between the Prince and that of Robert and Ned, dreading how they'd react to this truth. He stood up, prepared to intercede just in case tempers flared.

"Yes, my prince?" Ned asked politely.

"It's me," he revealed, "I'm the suitor for Lady Ashara's hand."

"You?" Robert's follow up came out more of a growl than a question.

Jaime found himself taking a step forward. He was poised to involve himself if needed.

"I didn't ask for this," Daeron was quick to add, "Nor do I want it."

Ned's grey eyes stared at him, unflinching in their gaze. His expression gave nothing away, stoic and silent. "You should do your duty then, my prince." Ned said finally, "Marry her and honor your family."

"Ned, Listen to yourself," Robert chided, "Talking my cousin into marrying the woman you love." He clicked his tongue. "It's madness."

"It isn't madness, Robert," Ned corrected him in an icy tone. Despite his stoicism, it was clear that this was hurting him. "The Prince must do his duty to his family."

"I will not," Daeron put in bluntly. "Duty and honor?" He scoffed, "If that is what they call taking the woman your friend loves and marrying her yourself then I'll have no part of it." He shook his head, "It may not be blood that binds us but all of you before me know this: I consider you my brothers. I will not betray that bond or any one of you."

Before anyone could speak up, Princess Elia surprised them with her sudden appearance. Jaime knew at once something was wrong. "Elia, what is it?"

"Lord Yronwood has challenged Oberyn to a duel."

Rhaella:

"What do you think?"

She looked up towards her good daughter to see the Princess consort was holding her in cloth which had a poorly stitched single red dragon head amidst the black cloth.

"It is coming along nicely."

Rhaella had asked for her good daughter to come to her chambers for some early afternoon stitching. The queen had dismissed both her and Laela's ladies-in-waiting wanting to get to know the new princess in private. She had been married to Rhaegar for a few months, but she still felt more stranger than kin. A divide which Rhaella was determined to bridge, understanding the difficulties and pressure that came with being a princess consort and future queen.

"You are too polite, Your Grace," She looked down at her work, "The head looks more like a worm," she let out a light laugh, "And the body a blob."

"You are too hard on yourself, dear," Rhaella consoled her.

Princess Laela smiled in thanks. She was a beautiful young woman with the classic Valyrian beauty. She had pale gold hair and light blue eyes, with a slender, but womanly figure. When she spoke, it carried a lilt of a slight accent.

Lord Steffon had chosen wisely in selecting her. The Princess' father was of the Old Blood, and his brother, the Princess' uncle Jelicho, many believed would be elected a Triarch in the near future. Her mother's family hailed from Lys and brought with it influence and wealth. Her marriage to Rhaegar made for the strongest match that the Iron Throne has ever had with the Free Cities.

"How are you settling in?"

"Rhaegar has been kind and patient with me," She answered, her pale cheeks tinged pink at the mention of her husband, "He is a good man, and I'm thankful that he is my husband," her eyes shone with sincerity, "He played for me the other night when I was restless. He is so talented and has such a lovely voice."

"The Seven have blessed me with good sons," Rhaella was glad to hear that her eldest showed his wife kindness and doted on her in ways that his father never did.

Laela nodded, "I pray they bless me with children," She placed a hand upon her flat belly, "I am ready to give him heirs and spares."

Rhaella was curious of her condition, but did not press. "In time you and Rhaegar will be blessed with many sons and daughters."

The Princess perked up. "I only complain because it has yet to bear fruit, but I do not complain of the act itself," she smiled before her cheeks flushed suddenly realizing who it was she was speaking to. "Forgive me, your grace," she bowed her head, "I have spent too much time with a certain lady-in- waiting."

"Calm yourself, my dear," Rhaella tried to soothe her embarrassment. She found herself more amused then insulted by the princess' words bold as they may be. "I am no blushing maiden or frowning septa."

Laela giggled, "Your Grace is kind." She looked up when her cheeks regained their color. "However, I will be more mindful moving forward, I must remember I am no longer in Volantis or Lys, but King's Landing."

Rhaella commended her good daughter for her sense and said as much.

Laela looked thankful, "I'm still trying to find myself here," She admitted softly, "Each day I'm introduced to men and women, of different stations and families, trying to recall where they hail from, their house and sigil, their colors and their sayings," She shook her head, "I'm afraid I may faint."

"You will learn them."

"I've been studying since the betrothal was announced," she revealed, "I spent much of the journey to the capital itself with a tutor to help me so that I wouldn't be seen as some exotic fool."

"The people do not think you are one," Rhaella chided the thought itself.

"That is a relief," she replied, "However, that does not change the issue that I am still struggling with them."

"Then allow me to help you," Rhaella offered.

Laela's eyes widened, "Your Grace, I am honored, but surely you have other more important tasks to attend to then helping me with something so trivial."

Rhaella held up her hand before Princess Laela could continue, trying to calm the worried girl with a gentle smile, "I would love to."

Laela returned it, looking relieved at her willingness to help her. "You have my thanks, Your Grace."

Rhaella nodded, silently pleased that the princess was willing. She saw this as an opportunity to further get to know the young woman who will one day become queen. I must show her, Rhaella was determined, how to be the queen Aerys never let me be.

"I'm sorry, Your Grace," a new voice entered their conversation, both women turned towards the door to see Ser Alliser standing in the doorway. He was quick to bow his head at the interruption he caused. "Prince Viserys is here, Your Grace."

"That is fine," Rhaella stood up, "Please send him in."

Ser Alliser nodded, and stepped aside, and in an instant Prince Viserys appeared. He was smiling, "Mama," he raised up his arms for her.

"Hello, my son," She felt her heart swell at the sight of her youngest. She picked him up, kissing his cheeks much to the child's delight as he giggled. He was getting bigger and heavier, and she felt her back stiffen and her muscles begin to protest the weight. She reluctantly put him back down, he pouted, but she remedied it by holding him close which proved effective as he all but melted into her side when he noticed Princess Laela.

"Prince Viserys," She smiled warmly at the boy, "How is my new brother?"

Her tone seemed to encourage the shy prince, "Good, we talked about dragons!" His words mumbled together.

Rhaella ran a hand through his hair, "Which dragons did you learn about today, darling?" She knew how much he loved them.

"Verm-" Viserys' face scrunched up, struggling to pronounce it.

"Vermithor," Rhaella helped him, "The dragon of King Jaehaerys."

Viserys bobbed his head up and down, eyes gleaming with excitement, "The Bwonze Fury," mispronouncing its name. He then raised his arms and began to wave then as if they were dragon wings.

Laela oohed and awed at the display which only emboldened him to continue in his imitation of a dragon.

Rhaella watched with a smile, pleased to see her youngest enjoying himself. He had been in a sour mood when Daeron left the capital. Viserys had wanted to travel with him, and Daeron had been inclined to the idea, but Aerys had adamantly refused suggestion outright.

Viserys stays with me, Aerys had said sharply, I will not have two of my sons sully themselves with the Dornish.

Thankfully, the comments were made behind closed doors, but Rhaella was certain the words would leak to the. They'd take it as another slight from the Iron Throne.

He wanted Viserys to stay, but made no effort to see him, she observed of her husband's hypocrisy. However, in this regard she did not mind since she did not want to endanger her youngest with him. It was terrible enough that Aerys had turned Rhaegar and Daeron against one another for a sword.

Rhaella's chest tightened at the memory. She had refused to witness the duel that pitted her sons against one another. She hated how her brother used them as pawns and how the court supported and cheered as her children fought each other. He poisons them, she thought bitterly, and her sons foolishly lapped it up.

My children have become instruments to his madness, she thought despairingly. Her two eldest had never been close, and the duel between them insured they never would be. Daeron had left the capital with Lord Robert Baratheon's and his retinue of Stormland lords, shortly after the royal wedding.

A tug on the sleeve of her gown pulled her from her musings to see it was Viserys, looking at her with bright eyes. May Aerys' grasp never reach you, she prayed softly. Her youngest was no longer pretending to be a dragon. "I'm sorry," her hand rubbing Viserys' cheek while her eyes sought out the Princess, "I lost myself in thought," she apologized.

Laela took her apology with the diplomatic decorum expected of a future queen, "You are with family, Your Grace," she dipped her head.

"I am," she happily agreed, holding her son close. In that moment, wishing she had her other sons with her as well. Let us be together, she prayed, United, we are stronger than any force, she added, A dragon is a fierce creature, and we are dragons. Not even her brother could rip them asunder, what is one dragon in the face of so many?

"Mama, where is Dae?"

She looked down at her son, "You know where Daeron is," Yet, that did not stop him from asking for his favorite brother nearly every day.

His face scrunched up, "Why isn't he back?"

"He will be," She tried to soothe the growing swell of emotions that she could see bubbling within her youngest.

"Doesn't he want to return?" Viserys' voice hitched at the implication that Daeron would abandon him.

"Of course he does," Rhaella said instantly, scooping him up and placing him on her lap, "He loves you more than anything in this world."

Viserys' eyes gleamed, "Really?" The traces of a smile were beginning to push through.

"Absolutely," Rhaella insisted, "Don't you forget that," she told him, "Not ever," she tapped him on the nose and was rewarded with a giggle. Her heart sung at the sound.

"I won't," he said with all the severity he could muster.

Rhaella rewarded him with a kiss to his brow which he took willingly, before wrapping his arms around her neck. She returned the embrace, feeling him burying his head into the crook of her shoulder. The love she felt for him was so fierce, so rewarding, it was all she could do not to cry. My parents may have condemned me in my marriage, she thought, feeling tears in her eyes, but my children have saved me. She squeezed Viserys tight, and when she felt his hands slip to part the embrace, she kissed his hair before pulling away. Composing herself as she did, aware that they were not alone.

Viserys wiggled in her lap, and she let him be, by helping him down. Her sides were sore, and she winced in pain, hoping to have hidden it from her good daughter. Aerys' touch is as gentle as a monster's claw.

Luckily, it seemed Laela's attention was on Viserys who was running around the room with the energy and imagination of a child, babbling happily to himself and lost in his own wonderful world.

"He loves his brother," Laela's eyes following Viserys as she spoke.

"Yes," Rhaella agreed, "He loves Rhaegar as well, but the duties of a Crown Prince take him away from his duties as a brother."

"They do," Laella replied, "Viserys is fortunate to have Daeron."

"We all are," Rhaella loved all her sons, and considered herself blessed to have three healthy boys in which to dote upon. When she was younger she wanted a daughter so as to be a better mother to her then hers was to her, but now the thought of more children disquieted the queen.

More children meant more visits from Aerys, the fear was an icy chain that wrapped itself around her heart. She wasn't certain she was brave enough to endure her brother's attention. Or if I lost it… The possibility threatened to smother her. Can I bury anymore of my children?

It never stopped hurting, and numbness could do only so much in the face of all that grief.

"Of course," Laela sensed she may have spoken out of turn, "Daeron seems a good man," She amended, "And will be as loving an uncle as he is an older brother."

"He will be," Rhaella had no doubts.

"I hear we may have another join our family," Laela said in a teasing tone. "I wonder if that is why the Prince remains in Dorne."

"Oh?"

Laela was not put off by Rhaella's lack of reaction. "Why else would the Prince linger in Dorne? He is trying to court his future betrothed."

"I was not aware Daeron was betrothed," Rhaella noted in a voice that was neither kind nor unkind. She was aware of the rumours and had warned her son of them when it came to his involvement. Now that Rhaegar was married, the court gossiped about Daeron's pending future and what maiden would be the next tied to the Targaryen family.

"He isn't," Laela said quickly, "But I've been told Lady Ashara is a beautiful woman, mayhaps, the sight of her inspired him to chart a new course."

Daeron has seen her many times, Rhaella thought wryly, recalling the dornish beauty's stay in the capital last year. She had come as a prospective bride for Rhaegar, but had left without a match. Though, Rhaella noted that hadn't seemed to bother the young woman, and the queen understood why that was in her limited interactions with the dornish maiden and the second son of Lord Stark.

"He is with friends," Rhaella remarked, "House Martell is a strong ally of our family and Daeron has continued to strengthen our two families with these friendships."

"House Martell is one of the great houses?" She continued at the queen's nod, "I've been taught they are some of the oldest and most important families."

"You would be correct."

"In learning them I have noticed something," Laela said quietly. "Houses Lannister, Stark, Baratheon, Martell," she listed them off.

Rhaella was impressed. She didn't detect any struggles from the princess in her reciting. "Yes, those are most of them." She praised her memory.

"I am new to court, but I've heard that sons in each of those houses are close to your second son, Prince Daeron."

"My son is blessed with many friendships throughout the realm."

"Is it not odd?" Laela asked, "That they are friends with Prince Daeron instead of my husband, the Crown Prince?"

"They are all loyal men," Rhaella did not like the implication and made it clear in her tone. "Loyal to the Iron Throne."

"Of course," Laela was quick to agree. "Forgive me, I fear I may have become a victim of the deadly disease that sweeps through King's Landing," she lowered her voice, "Gossiping," she let out a laugh to offset the seriousness she alluded to when speaking of this sickness.

Rhaella measured the girl's words and decided to give her the benefit of the doubt. That these were innocent questions and not suspicious allegations. The silence that stretched between them appeared to bother the princess, so the queen alleviated it by giving her good daughter, an indulgent smile, and a laugh soon followed.

"I fear there is no cure."

Laela giggled, putting a hand to her forehead as if overcome with dizziness, she even leaned back in her seat as if succumbing to it.

Viserys had stopped playing his game. He approached his good sister, "Are you alright?" His tone wrought with worry. His little hand touching her arm, "Layla?" He had trouble pronouncing her name.

The Princess was quick to respond, shooting up from her position with catlike quickness that caught Viserys off guard, "My prince has saved me!" She cooed towards him.

"I did?" Viserys sounded equal parts pleased and surprised.

"Oh yes," Laela assured him, "You are my hero," She had her hand over her heart, "May I reward your heroic act?"

Viserys nodded excitedly at the idea of a reward.

Laela bent down and placed a kiss upon his cheek, which turned his face scarlet. She didn't tease him for his reaction, but instead kissed his other cheek. "I feel safer in the Red Keep knowing I have you as a protector."

Viserys shyly thanked her and moved away, his head bowed, but Rhaella could see his red cheeks. "He is blessed to have you as a sister," Rhaella remarked sincerely, touched by the interplay between her good daughter and youngest son.

Laela looked pleased at her words. "You honor me, Your Grace."

I may not be blessed with a daughter from my own womb, Rhaella thought, but in being with Laela and seeing her with her son, she realized she has a daughter, and one she can help and guide in the ways her mother never did.

"Rhaegar,"

"Mother," He was sitting at a nearby table but he rose to greet her.

She had been made aware of his presence by Ser Arthur who was standing outside the door to her chambers. She and Viserys having returned from a trip to the Sept. At seeing his oldest brother, Viserys was quick to greet him.

The crown prince regarded his youngest brother with a stoic expression before he acknowledged him, "Viserys, you look well."

Viserys smiled up at his brother. "I was a dragon."

Rhaegar took his brother's babbling better than Rhaella had expected, rewarding him with a small smile. "We are the blood of the dragon," he told him, "Never forget that, little brother."

Viserys nodded, but at that point, Rhaegar had moved to greet her.

"It is good to see you," she kissed his cheek and let him lead her to the table where they sat down, "But had I known you were coming, I would've instructed food and wine to be served."

"You are kind, Mother, but that is not necessary," he declined.

Viserys had slipped his hand out of her grip and had made to grab one of his toy dragons and moved to the corner to play one of his games, finding himself bored at the idea of hearing the adults talking.

"How is your wife?"

"She is well." Rhaegar's voice carried neither warmth or coldness at the mention of her. "She tells me she enjoyed her time with you."

"I did as well," Rhaella smiled, pleased that she had not been alone in that thought. "I lit a candle for her at the sept today. And prayed that you will be blessed with a son."

"The time is not right for that," he said more to himself than to her. Even in talking to himself, he spoke with a confidence that surprised her.

She was certain his words were in reference to one of the dusty old tomes that he sunk so much of his time into. Rhaella had never been one to chide her children for favoring to read, but she could not deny her growing worry that these books were becoming more and more an obsession of his.

"My brother remains in Dorne."

"He is visiting friends," Rhaella was caught off guard by her son's sudden change in topic, and noticed a certain look that flickered over his face at her answer.

"It may be in our family's best interest to pursue Lord Dayne's request."

"The betrothal," Rhaella called it for what it was.

"Yes," Rhaegar did not seemed bothered by her correction.

"Daeron will not marry her."

He frowned, whether it was her answer or her bluntness, she did not know, but she suspected it could likely be both. "He has an obligation to his family."

"You put forward the match," It came more as an accusation than an observation. They fight even now, Her heat ached, but now they are dragging in others.

"I did." Rhaegar didn't looked abashed by it.

She detested his anwer, but was thankful in knowing that he would not lie to her face.

"It is a good match," he repeated, "House Dayne has proven their loyalty to our family and should be rewarded for their leal service."

"You do not do this for House Dayne," She would not allow him to hide behind that weak shield.

Rhaegar picked up on her meaning, but ignored it. "He will take the news better if it comes from you."

She favored him with a humorless smile. "He will not take the news well regardless of who tells him."

"Destiny cannot be thwarted. The way ahead has been written and it is up to me to follow it," He said quietly, "I will sit upon the Iron Throne and I will demand loyalty of both my blood and my people."

Rhaella stared at her son, stunned by the coldness in which he spoke. This was Aerys talking, the realization made her stomach clench. Her sweet firstborn son poisoned by the politics that corrupt this city, a selfish taint that seeps into your very bones and blood.

Who needs enemies when you have family? She thought with melancholy, Who'd want that wretched Throne when the mere thought of it turns blood against each other?

A noise broke through her thoughts to see Viserys was suddenly sitting on Rhaegar's lap, who had moved to sit on the couch near the fire. Her youngest was playing with a silver dragon pendant that her eldest wore. Viserys was quietly mimicking the roars and growls that the three seperate dragon heads would make.

The sight of her two sons should've filled her heart with happiness, but she could not shield herself from the lingering despair that pricked at her heart like icy thorns.

"Daeron should marry for love," She let slip one of the few selfish hopes she had had for her younger sons. Her parents got to marry for love, and she'd never forgive them for forcing her to marry Aerys.

"If he wishes for any sort of allowance from the crown then he'll honor this betrothal once it is set," Rhaegar dismissed.

"Daeron will not marry her. He'd sooner flee to the Free Cities," Rhaella noticed the change in her eldest at this possibility. He does not care, understanding his intent came as sharply and painfully as a dagger's thrust.

Rhaegar would rather see Daeron an exile then have him in Westeros.

Aerys, the name of her brother brought with it unexpected relief. He bore no love for the Dornish and insulted them whenever given the opportunity. Her brother was never one to think hastily and she was certain that this betrothal would be stalled by Aerys' usual pricklyness. That meant Daeron would have time to betrothed to someone else, to marry someone else…

"There us!" Viserys declared happily, oblivious to the tension between his oldest brother and mother, "Me, you, and Dae." He sounded proud at making the connection of the Targaryen sigil and that of him and his brothers.

Rhaegar took the interruption smoothly, but made no remark on his brother's words.

"Which one is which, darling?" Rhaella humored her youngest, sending him a bright smile.

He listed them off, pointing to each dragon's head when saying one of their names.

"No, Viserys, the dragon must have three heads, but they are of Aegon the Conqueror and his sister wives," Rhaegar corrected, "And those yet to come."

Viserys pouted, "Why can't it be us?"

"Because that is not what was written," there was a glint in Rhaegar's eyes as he spoke of the three heads. He lifted his brother off of his lap with some difficulty as Viserys didn't want to let go. "I have things to attend to," He said as a means to explain his departure, "Mother," he bowed his head towards her and without another word he left.

She leaned back into her seat, suddenly feeling sick. She wanted to cry at what was befalling her sons, but she did not think she had the strength to weep.

"Mama?"

"Yes, my love?" She looked down to see Viserys was at her side.

"I'm here," he held up her hands for her.

She picked him up, feeling her heart swell at his thoughtfulness, "I know," she kissed his hair as he snuggled closer to her. In having him in her arms, she felt some of her strength return to her: Our family must endure, she thought, I will not allow it to falter.