Chapter 13 : Arrival of a Prince

Rhaenyra Targaryen (106 A.C. Eigth moon)

Kingslanding

She soared through the sky, the wind brushing against her, a sensation that felt as good to her as it did to the wind itself. The air was fresh and clean, a significant improvement from the acrid smell of the Blackwater and the city below. Her destination was the dragon pit, and as she approached, she couldn't help but admire the preparations for her uncle's wedding to Laena and the upcoming tourney to celebrate the birth of the new heir, a son her father had always desired.

Touching down where she had left her best friend, Alicent, waiting along with her sworn shield, Ser Steffon Darklyn, she dismounted. Her dragon, Syrax, was issued commands by the dragon keepers, all of them donned in her family's black and red colors. The more senior members also wore black chainmail, with dragons engraved greaves and arm guards. "Dohaeras, Syrax," the older keeper said, protecting his younger companion from being scorched as the young man approached too quickly. The younger man spoke hesitantly, understandably nervous about learning how to handle these fire-breathing beasts. "Umbas, Rybas."

She slid down from her saddle and caressed her dragon's neck, eliciting a delighted purr. "Welcome back, Princess. I trust your ride was pleasant," Ser Steffon asked, a bright smile on his face. "Try not to look so relieved, Ser," she replied with a grin. He chuckled, saying, "I'm relieved every time that golden beast brings you back unspoiled; it saves my head from a spike." She grinned in response.

"Syrax is growing quickly; soon she will be as big as Caraxes," Alicent remarked as she welcomed her from the carriage. "Almost large enough for two?" she inquired hopefully, hoping to persuade her friend to join her one day. "I'm fine as a spectator, thank you," Alicent replied before moving back into the carriage. Together, they returned to the Red Keep.

After changing into more courtly attire, she paid a visit to her mother. "Ah, Rhaenyra, you know I don't like you to go flying while I'm in this condition," her mother expressed. She shook her head. "You don't like me to go flying while you're in any condition," she quipped as she walked toward her mother.

"Your Grace," Alicent said from behind her as she sat down with her mother on the couch. "Good morrow, Alicent," her mother greeted her. "Did you sleep?" "I slept." "How long?" "I don't need mothering, Rhaenyra." Yet, she did need it, especially now when everything was centered around the babe. "Well, here, all these attendants surround you, all focused on the babe. As your daughter, I will take care of you," she insisted, locking eyes with her mother.

Her mother sighed and spoke, "You will lie in this bed soon enough, Rhaenyra. As will Laena most likely after her wedding." The thought of Aemon marrying made her feel a pang of sadness, as she realized she might lose her friend forever. "This discomfort is how we serve the realm," her mother continued. She shook her head and said, "I'd rather serve as a knight and ride to battle and glory." 'Perhaps she could, given that she could ride a dragon.' She thought as she looked at her mother. But her mother laughed, "We have royal wombs, you, I, and even Lyanna. The childbed is our battlefield. We need to learn to face it with a stiff upper lip." She would not likely take to motherhood, but perhaps she would if she at least had the right partner.

"Now, go take a bath; you stink of dragon," her mother instructed. She nodded and headed to the small council chamber to serve as her father's cupbearer.

The meeting was already underway when she entered the council room. As she walked briskly toward her father, she heard Lord Corlys Velaryon discussing the menses known as 'The Crab Feeder,' causing havoc in the Stepstones. She knew that anything disrupting the trade lanes concerned The Sea Snake, who was eager to put an end to it as soon as possible. However, her father, reluctant to make any significant moves, had to wait. He was surely hoping that when her uncle arrived, he could sway her father's decision.

"Rhaenyra, you're late," her father scolded, turning toward her as she approached the council table. "The King's cupbearer can't be late. Leaves people wanting for cups."

"I was visiting Mother," she replied before kissing her father on the cheek.

Her father smelled something, sniffed loudly, and frowned at her. "On dragonback?" He asked with half a grin.

"Your Grace," Lord Beesbury spoke up, regaining her father's attention as she made her way to the serving table. To pick up the wine. "At Prince Daemon's urging, the crown has invested significant capital in the retraining and reequipping of his City Watch. I thought you might urge your brother to fill his seat on the council and provide an assessment of his progress as Commander of the Watch."

Her father glanced toward her as she filled Lord Strong's cup.

"Do you think Daemon is distracted by his present tasks?" Her father asked the Master of Coin. "And that his thoughts and energies are occupied?"

Lord Beesbury huffed and shook his head in dismay. "One would hope so, considering the associated costs."

Her father smiled at his advisor as he resumed peeling the shell off the boiled egg. "Then let us all consider your gold well-invested, Lord Beesbury." Her father answered. 'It was true, and it seemed that making Daemon commander of the city watch did make him less restless.' She thought thought back on her Daemon.

"I would urge that you not allow this Triarchy much latitude in the Stepstones, Your Grace," Lord Corlys spoke up, breaking the lingering silence from his place at the opposite end of the table of the King's seat. "If those shipping lanes should fall, it will beggar our ports."

"The Crown has heard your report, Lord Corlys," Otto responded on her father's behalf. "And takes it under advisement."

She noticed the tension between the Master of Ships and the Hand as the two men stared intently at each other. The staring match broke only for a moment for Lord Corlys to glance at her father before silently retracting with the lowering of his hand.

'She was always inspired by her Aemon's future father-in-law, a strong and brave man who loved and would do anything to protect his house Velaryon. His son Laenor had written her often about his and Aemon's adventures in the North, with Lord Rickon. She was jealous on those occasions, wanting to see the world as they did, and Lord Corlys had. Hopefully, his family's arrival for his daughter's wedding could lighten his mood.' "Shall we discuss the Heir's Tournament, Your Grace?" Otto questioned her father, pulling her out of her thoughts.

"I would be delighted to. Don't forget, it's also the tournament for my brother's wedding," her father said enthusiastically, biting into his egg and nodding toward Lord Corlys, who gave a small smile. "Will the maesters' nameday prediction hold, Mellos?"

The Grand-Maester spoke up for the first time since her entrance. The man was one of the most unyielding opponents against both her uncles. Daemon was too impatient and rebellious, and for some reason, Aemon's adventures and dealings in the North worried the Grand Maester and the Hand. "You must understand that these things are mere estimations, my King. But we have all been pouring over the moon charts, and we feel that our forecast is as accurate as it can be."

"The cost of the tournament is not negligible. Might we delay until the child is in hand?" questioned Lord Beesbury, still advocating for a delayment of all activities.

Lord Strong sighed and shook his head at the question. "Most of the lords and knights are certainly on their way to King's Landing already. To turn them back now—"

"The tourney will take the better part of a week," King Viserys stated firmly, cutting off the Master of Laws' sentence. "Before the games are over, my son will be born, and my brother to be married. And the whole realm will celebrate."

'This statement made her feel unimportant. Everything was being done for a son, the one thing she could never be. As she moved to fill Ser Otto's glass, she couldn't help but feel sadness at every mention of her future replacement. She was the only living child of her parents, but that didn't seem to matter. Although her mother was always there for her, as had been Alicent, and before Aemon left, so was he. She was never the heir until there was a son; her uncles were the heirs, with Daemon first, and then Aemon.' "We have no way of predicting the sex of the child, Your Grace," Mellos spoke up, drawing her out of her unhappy thoughts.

"Of course," her father responded, almost sarcastically. "No maester is capable of rendering an opinion free of conditions, are they now?" He then began working on another boiled egg. "There is a boy in the Queen's belly. I know it. And my heir will soon put all of this damnable handwringing to rest himself." Her father ended with a smile.

Then a black shadow fell on the council room, and the wind flowed into the room. They all looked toward the balcony. There he was, Aemon, riding the Black Dread. 'Her beloved uncle had arrived, and this day would be a whole lot more interesting,' she thought. As he flew toward the dragonpit, she saw three other dragons flying overhead. They were Seasmoke, Meleys, and Vhagar.

As she looked toward the dock, four Velaryon ships were entering it, and two other ships of different coloring, with a banner she hadn't seen before. 'A Weirwood, with a white wolf and a black dragon circling it. Those were Aemon's ships, and she was sure of it.' She thought as she looked at the sails from a distance.

Viserys Targaryen (106 A.C.)

Kingslanding - Throneroom

He waited patiently for his brother's party to arrive. Evidently, Aemon had requested his belongings to be brought with him before entering the throneroom, where he would finally reveal what he had been up to for the past five years. 'As he had looked at Balerion, Vhagar, and Seasmoke, he couldn't believe how much the dragons had grown, and even the Balerion looked bigger. They appeared healthier and more muscular, even the Black Dread, and how that was possible.' He wondered as he sat on the Throne.

His attention was drawn to the doors of the great hall opening, and Ser Harrold walked in, dressed all in white, adorned with the sigils of his house and his brother's sigil. Ten guardsmen followed him, all wearing similar black chainmail and plating with white and red capes. Harrold began his announcement of his brother, "His Prince Aemon Targaryen, Prince of Seadragon Point, Protector of Western Seas, The Northern Prince, The White Dragon."

His brother entered the hall amidst gasps and whispers. He was heavily armored, with a mail shirt around his neck and beneath his armor. His armor was black and red, and he wore a cape with his personal sigil. Two swords hung at his sides and one on his back, which appeared to be a greatsword. The helm he carried in his left arm was beautifully crafted with the likeness of half a dragon and half a wolf, with red rubies for its eyes. Upon closer inspection, he realized that his brother's armor was Valyrian steel.

His own eyes popped out of his head at sight. How did he do it? He wondered. As he sat at the top of the Throne, his brother addressed him, "Your Grace, brother, my congratulations on the imminent birth of your child, and my thanks for hosting a joint feast and tourney for my wedding as well. I have returned as promised and pledge my sword and loyalty to you, my King, my liege." His brother declared, in a voice that reminded him of his father, yet they had a Nothern accent. Aemon went down on one knee and unsheathed the Valyrian steel greatsword from his back. The blade was magnificent, with a milky white color that almost looked silver, and the hilt and pommel were a combination of a dragon and a wolf.

"Brother, you are most welcome, and I accept your pledge. But what sword and armor do you have there? If I'm not mistaken, it's made of Valyrian steel. Is this what you've been doing in the North?" he asked, his voice filled with intrigue. Hoping it was true.

"I have been busy, yes. I have long labored in the art of smithing, and by the gods' blessing, I have rediscovered the lost art of our ancestors. As I said in my letters, all I do is for our houses and family," Aemon announced, his voice carrying across the hall. Flowed by the gasping of those gathered, applause flowed after the shock had worn off.

"Your Grace, this can't be true. How can a boy like him rediscover something like that?" Maester Melos stammered, but his brother shot him a glare. "Well, I have rediscovered it. If you don't believe me, I will happily cut you. And don't forget, Maester. I'm still your Prince. You don't speak unless spoken to when I'm speaking with my brother. This isn't the Small Council, as well. Address me as 'boy' again, and you will lose the ability to speak." Aemon said, his voice dripping with scorn, leaving the hall stunned. Pale in shock, Mellos shuddered back a little at Aemon's threat. 'Yet it was a rightful threat the grandmeaster had shown disrespect to his brother.' He thought as he looked at the scene.

"Ser Harrold, bring in the chests with my gifts for my family," Aemon commanded. "And I suppose my betrothed's family is waiting. Let them join us as well, don't you think, brother?" His brother nodded with a smile.

"Rhaenyra, it's good to see you again, niece. You've grown into a beautiful young woman," he said, taking her hand and giving it a kiss, which made his daughter flush. "Thank you, uncle. You've grown quite handsome as well. I'm happy to have you back," she replied, her voice more timed than usual. "As am I, my niece," his brother grinned.

"Lord Hand, Lord Corlys, Lord Lyonel, Lord Lyman, it's good to see you all again, Mellos." he greeted the assembled lords of his small council, and they bowed in turn. He couldn't help but notice the scorn Aemon used when addressing Mellos.

Then, the attention turned back to Ser Harrold, who announced the arrival of the Velaryon family. "The Princess Rhaenys Velaryon, Lady of the Driftmark, and wife of our Master of Ships, Lord Corlys Velaryon, with her children. Prince Aemon's betrothed, Lady Laena Velaryon, rider of Vhagar, and her brother, Leanor Velaryon, heir to Driftmark and rider of Seasmoke."

"Welcome, my family. I welcome you for your wedding, Lady Laena, and to join in the celebrations for the impending birth of my heir," he said, and the group bowed in respect. Following them, twenty guards entered, carrying two chests, eliciting gasps from the hall. A giant white wolf walked in alongside them.

"Kill that beast," Lord Otto announced, but Aemon quickly interjected, "I wouldn't do that, Lord Hand, or I'd have you burnt alive by Balerion. This, Your Grace, is my loyal companion, Ghost. He's a direwolf. Did you think the reports and letters I sent about them were fabrications? He will only harm anyone who harms me or my family." His brother said as he ruffled the giant wolf behind his neck.

"Leave it be. If my brother says it's safe, I trust him. But he can't roam about the keep freely. I expect him to be at your side when he walks around," he cautioned.

"As you wish, brother, but I was interrupted. Let me show you what I have for you," Aemon said as he opened the first chest. "For my brother and King, I have this scepter made of dragonglass and Valyrian steel gilded with gold. May you carry it as a symbol of our house and its power," Aemon said, kneeling and presenting the scepter. It was made of Valyrian steel, with a dragon's head at the top, beautifully crafted in intricate pieces, and its eyes were made of black pearls.

"A wonderful gift, my brother. I am more than welcome to it. A true royal scepter, symbolizing our power indeed," he replied, his voice high with excitement.

"As I know you to be a lover of hunting, I also have a spear with a Valyrian-steel spearhead for you. May your hunting be true with every strike you make," Aemon said as he presented the spear.

"As for my cousin, goodsister, and Queen, I present this tiara, gilded in gold and made of Valyrian steel. Please give it to her when you have the chance. I also have this ring, with a falcon and a dragon combined," Aemon added, placing the tiara and the ring beside the spear. "I'm sure Aemma will be most pleased with the gifts, my gracious thanks," he replied, smiling. The gifts were truly remarkable, and he noticed that all the eyes in the room, except those of the Velaryon party, were wide with astonishment.

"I've granted you this ring and necklace for my lovely niece. May I?" Aemon asked, and Rhaenyra nodded, allowing him to place the ring on her finger. The ring was a dragon's head made of Valyrian steel, gilded with silver, and the necklace was also made of Valyrian steel, adorned in black and red. In its center, a dragon's head with red rubies for its eyes.

"Thank you, uncle. These are wonderful gifts. I've always longed to have something from Valyria," his daughter said, her smile brightening his mood. "Is my brother Daemon here as well? I have a gift for him as well," Aemon inquired.

"No, he has been busy with the city watch. He isn't at court much," he replied. "Ah, well, if my brother has found a passion to occupy him, all the better. I will give it to him when I see him again," Aemon said, smiling.

"Ah, future goodfather and Lord of Tides, may I present you with this war axe? I know you have a preference for axes," Aemon said, and Corlys bowed to his brother as he accepted the axe. "Thank you, my Prince. I'll likely need it in the future," Corlys replied, probably thinking of the troublesome Stepstones.

"I also have these two gifts for the Small Council. For the Lord Commander, I grant this longsword. May it protect the royal family until the end of days. May all future lord's commanders do as you have done," Aemon said, offering a longsword to Ryman Redwyne. How knelt as he accepted the blade. "As for the rest of the Small Council, I have these Valyrian steel pins. May they symbolize the crown's power if you agree, Your Grace," Aemon asked. He nodded, and Aemon handed pins to each of his council members, representing their respective offices. They nodded in thanks to his brother. It appeared they would have much to discuss after all this. He was just happy to have his brother back; it had been too long.

Aemma Targaryen Arryn (106 A.C.)

Kingslanding - Aemma's bedchambers.

"My queen, it has been far too long," Aemon said, walking in with a broad smile. He had grown since they last saw each other. "It has been too long, cousin. My daughter, she missed you very much, as have I. Your presence and Lyanna's have been sorely missed," she replied after he had kissed her hand.

"You look tired. How have you been sleeping? Has my nephew or niece been keeping you awake? Rhaenyra has already said she wants a sister and has even named her another Alysanne," he said with a wide smile.

"Yes, she has, she told me. If only I had her luck with childbearing," she replied, a hint of sadness in her voice.

"Aemma, your worth isn't dependent on that. You've already given my brother a beautiful daughter and brought much happiness to this family. Never forget your worth, and remember that you are the Queen and a great beauty besides," Aemon said with a reassuring voice.

"Thank you, but your brother has seen a dream, his truth. He would have a son who would wear the crown of Aegon, and he heard the sound of thundering hooves, splintering shields, and ringing swords. He believes he will place our son upon the Iron Throne, as the bells of the Great Sept toll and all the dragons roar as one. Just look at the tourney, it is so grand, and yes, it is also for your wedding, it is all very much. Also, I can't bear to lose another child. I told him as much," she ended, her voice breaking, and she teared up.

"Come here," Aemon said, enveloping her in a hug as she cried into his chest. "Don't worry, Aemma. You will be a wonderful mother to this child, be it Alysanne or if it's a boy?" "Baelon, after your father." She replied, with a hint of a smile.

"A good name for a prince and future King. But even if it's a daughter, don't be shaken. A ruler doesn't need a man's anatomy to rule. I've seen plenty of examples of that," he said with a chuckle and kissed her head.

"Thank you, Aemon, for your words, and thank you for the gift Viserys gave me early. It's a wonderful piece of craftsmanship, a beautiful fusion of a falcon and a dragon. It brings me pride when I put them on." she said, as mentioned toward the ring and tiara. Despite the pressure to provide an heir for the Kingdom, her heart felt somewhat lighter.

"Aemon, I have to ask you something. Protect Rhaenyra for me when I'm gone. This pregnancy has been hard and very straining. The last one was tough. Not all mothers survive the birthing bed; my mother is an example. Please promise me you'll protect her," she asked, her voice choked. She knew she shouldn't be asking this of Aemon, as he was only fourteen years old, but he always had a maturity about him that surpassed most children and young folk, even those older than him.

"I will, and you don't even need to ask. If I have anything to say about it, you will see your daughter grow into a mother and this child," he assured her, placing a hand on her belly, where the baby kicked. "He or she just kicked, didn't they?" he asked, his voice filled with wonder, and she nodded. "It's been some time since I felt that – I think the last time was with Visenya. Do you know her and Patch? Those two are quite a handful," he said with a grin. "Who is Patch?" She asked, wondered. "Oh, her direwolf, she called him Patch after the black spot on his right eye." He said with a chuckle. She thought it was something for a small child to name fearsome direwolf Patch as she chuckled at the name. "I've sent her and Lyanna to you as soon as they arrive. Their party should be here soon. They're traveling by ship with my Uncle Benjen and his son Rickon," He replied, hoping to see her friend and little cousin Visenya again.

"I hope so, Aemon. It would be wonderful to see Lyanna again; she's one of my closest friends," she said, and he smiled. "Yes, Visenya will adore you, I'm sure," he said, his smile bright.

"Let's hope that you gift this family with another wonderful child, Aemma," he said, kissing her forehead. "Yes, an heir for the dynasty," she replied, her voice weaker.

"No, just a child – someone to be loved and cherished, just like Rhaenyra or Visenya," he said, smiling. Aemon had a way with words, and his comforting presence had lightened her mood. It wasn't just an heir she was carrying; it was another child to love, a sibling for her beloved.

Alicent Hightower (106 A.C.)

Kingslanding - Godswood

The weather was beautiful, and it made the leaves of the Weirwood shine. Alicent asked Rhaenyra, lying in her lap, "Did you read it?" She asked her friend as she looked at the necklace she had received from Prince Aemon, which glittered in the sunlight. Rhaenyra answered in shock, but with a mocking tone, "Of course, I read it," and sighed.

"When Princess Nymeria arrived in Dorne, who did she take as her husband?" Alicent asked, her thoughts drifting to the silver-golden Targaryen with curls and grey-purple eyes. "A man," Rhaenyra replied with a smirk.

"His name?" She asked, trying to keep it serious.

"Lord Something," Rhaenyra replied.

"If you answer with 'Lord Something,' Septa Marlo will be furious," Alicent said, her worry evident. "She's funny when she's furious," Rhaenyra said.

"You're always like this when you're worried."

"Like what?"

"Disagreeable," she said, and Rhaenyra looked at her with purple eyes. 'That reminded her of her uncle Daemon, who was troublesome Targaryen. But it wasn't her friend's fault; he had a way of charming her with his charisma, even if he sometimes glinted with malice. Her friend was worried that her father wouldn't pay attention to her when a boy eventually arrived, fearing that she might not be good enough because she was a woman. Alicent understood this, as her father was much the same. He loved her, but she wasn't a son.' So she spoke her thoughts too. "You're worried your father is about to overshadow you with a son," She said.

But Rhaenyra responded with a dismissive wave. "I only worry for my mother. I hope that my father gets a son. As long as I can recall, it's what he's always wanted."

"You want him to have a son?" She was surprised about that.

"I want to fly with you and Aemon on dragon's back, see the wonders across the Narrow Sea, and eat only cake," Rhaenyra joked.

"I'm being serious," She said, her tone more solemn now. The idea of flying away with Aemon had its appeal.

"I never jest about cake and Aemon," Rhaenyra replied. It was an unspoken truth that both of them harbored feelings for Aemon, but they couldn't be with him.

"Aren't you worried about your position?"

"I like this position. It's quite comfortable," Rhaenyra answered jokingly, gesturing to where she was lying.

She sighed and started walking away, annoyed by her friend's childishness. Sometimes, Rhaenyra acted her age, already flowered, and at other times, she was too easygoing for a princess. Rhaenyra asked, "Where are you going?"

"Going home. The hour has grown quite late," She replied and began walking away. Rhaenyra began speaking about Princess Nymeria, and she couldn't help but listen. "Princess Nymeria led her Rhoynar across the Narrow Sea on 10,000 ships to flee their Valyrian pursuers. She took Lord Mors Martell of Dorne as her husband and burned her fleet off Sunspear to show her people they were finished running." Rhaenyra walked up and ripped a page from the book, making her gasp.

"What are you doing?" She asked, shocked. "So you remember," Rhaenyra said, a smirk on her face.

"But if the septa see this book..." She asked, worried. "Fuck the septa."

"Rhaenyra!" Her friend was never the most pious, so hearing something like that from her wasn't entirely surprising. They walked off toward their respective homes, laughing away their worries, determined not to let their current concerns get to them.

Otto Hightower (106 A.C.)

Kingslanding - King's chambers

The bell of the sept rang as the King inquired about the ugly wound on his back, a wound he had acquired from sitting on the Throne. "It has grown slightly, Your Grace," Melos said. The old maester had always been a devoted servant to the cause, a true loyalist at heart, but sometimes his methods didn't align with those of other maesters.

"Can you say yet what it is?" he asked as he looked at the wound on the King's back, noticing a slight push and blood around it. "We've sent inquiries to the Citadel. They are researching texts for similar cases," the younger Maester Orwell said, motioning for Melos to step aside.

"The King has been under heavy stress in preparation for the birth, and bad humors of the mind can have adverse effects on the body," Melos replied, speaking in a hushed tone. 'It was the kind of answer I needed, though it didn't specify the problem. However, we couldn't allow this information to leak. If word got out, people might clamor for Daemon or Aemon to be crowned as heir to make the succession official.

He couldn't permit that bastard Daemon anywhere near the Throne. He had long tried to undermine my position, and then there was Alicent, someone Daemon had privately humiliated. Still, it wouldn't do if that man became King. He was too headstrong, arrogant, and violent. As for Aemon, he didn't know much about him except that the King had spoken of his brother's dutifulness and temperament. The spies sent to Seadragon Point hadn't uncovered much, apart from rumors that needed addressing in due time.

Still, he was unsure about this unknown entity that had arrived back at court, a boy who had reinvented the forging of Valyrian steel. He even had a pin on his chest as proof. May the Seven above have mercy.' He thought with a grumble.

"Whatever it is, it needs to be kept quiet." He said, and Melos nodded and suggested a treatment for Viserys he had done before. "We should leech it again," Melos said. "It's a wound that refuses to heal, Grand maester. Might I suggest cauterization?" The younger man suggested. "Cauterization would be wise your grace, it would be painful," Melos said, but Viserys had his patient run thin, and stood up, and walked out of the room.

Next morning Council chambers.

He walked with the King as he started to inform him about Daemon's exploits. The gall of the brute, a butcher of the people of King's Landing. A two-horse cart of body parts, and bodies all acted without the crown's leave. "It was an unprecedented round of criminals of every ilk. Your brother made a public show of it. Meting out the summary judgments himself. I'm told they needed a two-horse cart to haul away the resulting dismemberment when it was done." He said, his voice icy. Let's see how Daemon will talk his way out of this. Viserys was far too forgiving when it came to his family. "Gods, be good," Viserys sighed as he shook his head.

"The prince cannot be allowed to act with this kind of unchecked impunity," he said as he walked into the council chambers. A low, behold, bloody, and dirty Prince Daemon sat in his chair. "Brother," Daemon said with a smile and grinned at him. "Daemon," the King said as he acknowledged Daemon's presence. "Oh, please go on. You were saying something about my impunity," Daemon said, grinning.

"Ah, your grace, Lord Hand, I wasn't sure you were still coming. But please tell me, what has my brother done now, Otto?" A voice came from a corner where the refreshments were laid down. It was Aemon, his face in a full grin, reminding him of Jaehaerys. "Ah, Aemon, thank you for joining us. But Otto, please continue," Viserys said, sitting down, and the rest of the council is doing the same.

Focusing his attention back toward Daemon, Aemon picked up a chair and sat down beside him on the right side of the table. "You're to explain your doings with the City Watch." "Your new Cloaks did make quite an impression last night, didn't they?" Viserys said, and Daemon grinned. "The City Watch is not a sword to be wielded at your whim," he scolded, pointing toward Daemon, who seemed to be trying to create some distance between himself and the King. How many mistakes and insubordination would the King tolerate? "They are an extension of the crown."

"The Watch was enforcing the crown's laws," Daemon said, looking at Lyonel Strong, who sat to his right. "Wouldn't you agree, Lord Strong?" Lord Strong looked around before answering the question, "My Prince, I don't think..."

But he wouldn't let him speak; they would all know what Daemon did. "Making a public spectacle of wanton brutality is hardly in line with our laws."

"Nobles from every corner of the realm are right now descending upon King's Landing for my brother's tourney," Daemon said, with a lack of care. "Do you want them mugged? Raped? Murdered? You mightn't know this unless you left the safety of the Red Keep, but much of King's Landing is seen by the smallfolk as lawless and terrifying. Our city should be safe for all its people." Damn, the man putting the tournament in the King's head; it would make this discussion invalid. Viserys nodded. "I agree. I just hope you don't have to maim half of my city to achieve this." Daemon shook his head with a smirk. "Time will tell."

Otto couldn't help but shake his head in anger; Daemon was a brute, playing judge, jury, and executioner last night. It bothered him greatly, and he bottled up his frustrations with the man. "Daemon, I respect you for executing yourself. I have done so in the North, where it is customary. But brutally killing civilians, even criminals, as far as we know, without trial isn't something you should have done. It would help if you had arrested them and held trials. What you did yesterday was sort of sport for you?" Aemon spoke for the first time. 'He was surprised the Prince took his side, but still, he didn't know Aemon.' He thought as Aemon spoke.

"Well, little brother, next time, don't go to the North, where you have been playing in the snow," Daemon said with a smirk, and it was the first time Daemon didn't have the right comeback. "We installed Prince Daemon as commander to promote law and order," Lord Corlys spoke up, breaking away from his thoughts as he looked at him at the other end of the table. "The criminal element should fear the City Watch. But I agree with Aemon; there should have been a trial. It was a fair process."

Daemon smiled at the comment but frowned when Corlys added the last part. "Thank you for your support, Lord Corlys. But my brother doesn't know King's Landing. He hasn't been here in five years." Daemon said; well, at least he was doing his duty in the North. It seemed all of it was a mystery to him and the rest of the world. "If only Prince Daemon showed the same devotion to his lady wife as he does to his work, and as does Prince Aemon for his holdings, Your Grace," he said with a smirk. "You have not been seen in the Vale or at Runestone for quite some time. What makes the succession and the stability in the Vale in doubt."

Daemon looked annoyed and bored; he didn't even look at him. "I think my bronze bitch is happier for my absence." Viserys looked at his brother sharply, with some anger. "Lady Rhea is your wife," he continued. "A good and honorable lady of the Vale." "In the Vale, men would rather fuck sheep than women. I assure you, the sheep are prettier," Daemon said, rolling his eyes at the comment.

He was getting increasingly irritated and said, "You made a vow before the Seven to honor your wife in marriage." Daemon looked at him and said with a smirk on his face. "Well, I'd gladly give Lady Rhea to you, Lord Hightower. If you need a woman to warm your bed, Your own lady's wife passed recently, did she not?" He swiftly rose to his feet. 'He didn't just say what he said. He had made comments, yes. But what he was saying now was something he didn't even expect from Daemon. He looked at Daemon, his own eyes filled with fury. The man had humiliated his daughter and now his wife.' He thought as he rose in anger

Daemon's smirk only grew at his reaction. "Perhaps you aren't ready to move on just yet." Oh, he was close to going over to the man and striking him. "Otto." But before he could, Viserys spoke, making a feeble attempt to mediate the insult he was given. "You know how my brother makes sport of provoking you. Must you indulge him?" He kept his icy stare at Daemon as he sat down. Now was not the time to bring that smug piece of shit down, relenting and sitting back down and spoke. "My apologies, Your Grace."

"Well, at great expense, this council has bettered the City Watch to your exacting standards. I'm more than pleased that criminals are punished and the laws are enforced. But understand no more stunts like last night, or there shall be met with consequences." Viserys said. Well, at least Daemon had been given a warning. "Understood, Your Grace," Daemon said and walked out of the room, glancing at Aemon and him. "Brother, please come visit me later today. You still have to receive your gift," Aemon said, and Daemon nodded with a slight irritated smirk was edge on his face.

"This new City Watch might just be something the city needs to restore order," Viserys said to quiet down the room. He sighed; Viserys would never do anything against his brother, especially when it was only the first time with the City Watch. "Your Grace, I also would like to discuss your brother Prince Aemon's work at Seadragon Point." He said with a nod and a word to the King and the Prince and smiled. "Please, Lord Hand, what do you want to know? I already spoke of how I came to the discovery," the Prince spoke seriously. Still, he wasn't sure what to think of the young Prince.

"Well, there were reports of what you were doing. Yet, not once did anyone speak of Valyrian steel being produced. Only the burning of a family by Balerion and burns that some of your stonemasons have been receiving. Why have you not spoken of the steel before or informed the council?" He asked with steel, but the boy didn't flinch; he only looked at him with grey eyes. There was just too much inside those eyes as he looked at him, giving him a little shiver down his spine.

"All I did was for my house to protect it, as promised to my father, grandfather, and to my brother, the current King. As for not speaking of making the steel, I wasn't sure it would be a smart idea to let wonder about the realm. Without making it look like a flux, my people of Seadragon Point and I have mastered the art and other works of my ancestors. Something that took years to master. Do you think you can make the steel?" Aemon said, his voice full of ice. "No, but why not tell the council or at the very least, your Ling?" 'Now let him speak of why he didn't tell the King.' He thought smugly.

"Well, I wasn't sure sending a raven or messenger would be wise. One wrong word, or the bird or carrier getting picked off. The steel isn't something that can just be made. It is a dangerous process. So, it is made with utmost care. I will tell my brother how to craft it, as he is the King and head of our house, and it will be a secret to my house. I will not disclose this to anyone else outside of it." The Prince said, and he said it with full conviction.

"Otto, I hope that answer suffices. I will speak with my brother in private as he requests. He has given my house and the crown a great boon and wonderful artifacts for its house. As well as symbols for the Kingdom. Just look at the pins you are wearing," Viserys said sternly. Of course, he would support his brother. If there was one thing, Viserys never really did act against his kin. Then, there was also the fact that the Citadel hadn't received development reports. What questions did his maester still have?

"That has sufficed, Your Grace. I suppose the trust between you and your brother is great. Although I have some other questions about your venture, my Prince," he said and nodded at the King and Prince that he could ask them.

"My Prince, I have a couple of questions. To start, the family Balerion apparently burnt. Then reports and letters also state you have built a massive structure in the town. The keep itself also has a second moat and a private harbor. The cost must have been greater than what the crown has given you in funds. Could you explain where all the funds for this came from?" He said, and the Prince smiled at him.

"Well, as you might have seen in the gifts given, there is also drakestone; as you might have seen, it is a beautiful product. It has brought in much revenue for its grafts, as well as the stone for other castle projects in the region. Then, the region's trade increased, bringing in trade traffic. That is used for the expansion of the city and castle. As for the family, it was only the first family that was punished for treason; it set the tone I needed to set so it wouldn't happen again. The keep's expansion is for its protection, as is the case with most fortification of cities and keeps if you didn't know. I wasn't sure, as I know you help rule my brother. I do not know your knowledge on those things, Lord Hand. So, Lord Hand, that is all I have to say about it. I think we are done. So I say as your Prince, unless my King and brother tell me I have to say more, I'm more than done explaining how I govern my lands." Aemon's answer was firm and final.

"Of course, my Prince. I suppose that is enough explanation, as we have not received any complaints from the Warden of the North or its lords. I say the discussion is done. My thanks for informing the council." He said to defuse the situation. The Prince was strict but not insultingly or proactive in how Daemon spoke. But in the letter of the way of things. He may be Hand, but he would always be lower in rank than a brother of the current King.

"Yes, Lord Hand, I gave you the same answer. People need to know you aren't weak. I also would not ask your brother for information on how he rules his lands," Corlys spoke for his soon-to-be son-in-law.

"Enough, I heard all I needed. Instead of prying on my brother, I would congratulate him. No man has done what he has done in over two hundred years. Forging Valyrian steel, a testament to our house's strength and those that would follow." Viserys ended the debate, ending today's council session.

Daemon Targaryen (106 A.C.)

Kingslanding – Street of Silk

He was very frustrated when he was fucking his lady behind. 'Aemon had ruined everything. He always thought he had at least an ancestral steel sword, Dark Sister. But not anymore; he only had a Valyrian steel sword. His brother had made fuck Valyrian the steel.' In frustration, he grunted at the thought and pulled out of her, making the woman whine. He walked from the bed toward the window to look at the Red Keep.

'Mysaria, the beautiful Lysene, with skin as white as milk, blond hair resembling gold, and pale blue eyes. She might be Lysene, but she was one of the most attractive women he could find and looked like a Valyrian. Her wit and cunning had also attracted him to her.' He thought as he looked at her as she came walking over to him still naked as her nameday. "So what troubles you, my prince?" She asked him, but he didn't answer.

A smirk graced her lips as she suggested, "I can bring a maid, perhaps several. I could even arrange one with silver hair," she offered.

"Ugh, please, it makes me think of my brother's bride-to-be. Even my niece has her eyes on him. That prideful prick, I saw him riding through the streets, waving to the masses as if he arrived as a conqueror." Aemon cursed under his breath now. 'Otto might have done his fair share, but Aemon had done more than everything to undermine him in his brother's eyes. He looked out for him in the city, but Aemon returned and became the city's hero. Even during the council, Aemon spoke mockingly of him. His brother even had the nerve to present him with a new dagger, a Valyrian steel one, and he refused it. He wouldn't accept charity from his brother.' He thought it in anger.

"You are Daemon Targaryen, the wielder of your house's ancestral blade and the rider of the Blood Wyrm Caraxes. The King cannot replace you," she said as she held his head and looked into his eyes. He rested his head against her breast. 'Tomorrow, he would show everyone who he was. The blood of the dragon,' he thought with determination.

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