We Light the Way

The wind howled as Caraxes soared through the sky, its massive wings cutting through the clouds. Daemon sat effortlessly on the dragon's back, his posture relaxed as he glanced behind him at Annatar. The latter was gripping the saddle tightly, though his face was set in a focused expression.

Daemon (grinning):

"Relax. Caraxes knows what he's doing. He's not as reckless as I am."

Annatar (smiling despite himself):

"I'll take your word for it."

There was a moment of silence between them, with nothing but the rush of wind filling the air. Daemon glanced sideways at Annatar, his sharp eyes assessing the man next to him. Annatar wasn't the type to be easily intimidated, but even Daemon couldn't help but notice the difference in how Annatar carried himself compared to others.

Daemon (with a grin):

"Don't tell me you're afraid of dragons?"

Annatar (chuckling):

"No, but I'd rather not fall off one."

Daemon's laughter was deep and resonant, as he patted Caraxes's neck affectionately.

Daemon:

"Fair enough. Hold on tight, we're almost there."

The two men were silent for a while as Caraxes cut through the sky, the landscape of Westeros unfolding beneath them. The journey was one of quiet reflection for both of them. Annatar glanced out at the horizon, wondering what awaited them at King's Landing. He had never been particularly fond of courts, but there was something intriguing about the political game Daemon seemed so deeply entrenched in.

The grand hall was alive with noise as the nobles of King's Landing gathered to celebrate the engagement of Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen to Ser Laenor Velaryon. Daemon and Annatar entered together, their presence commanding attention as they made their way through the room. Daemon's usual air of confidence was unshaken, while Annatar remained observant, taking in the tension in the air.

As the feast continued, Rhaenyra stood at her father's side, her posture regal yet her expression hinting at the complexities of the situation she found herself in. She had been betrothed to Laenor, but their relationship had always been more of a political alliance than one of affection. Her gaze lingered on Daemon for a moment before moving away, though the unspoken connection between them was apparent.

Annatar's eyes followed the dynamic, noting the quiet power plays at work. The room was full of whispered secrets, exchanged glances, and veiled threats. And then there was the sudden arrival of Queen Alicent, whose green gown marked her family's call to arms. The tension in the room was palpable, and it was clear that her entrance wasn't merely symbolic—it was a declaration.

Annatar (leaning toward Daemon, whispering):

"She's never been one to mince words, has she?"

Daemon (with a smirk):

"No. Alicent Hightower knows exactly what she's doing."

The music stopped for a moment as Queen Alicent's presence caused ripples through the crowd. As the queen took her seat, her eyes never left Rhaenyra, and the subtle challenge between the two women did not go unnoticed by anyone in the room.

Daemon (smirking as he scanned the room):

"I'll give her this—she knows how to make an entrance. But we both know she's more about appearances than anything else."

Annatar (raising an eyebrow):

"Doesn't everyone here play the same game?"

Daemon (shrugging):

"True. But not everyone plays it well."

The feast carried on, but the mood shifted as Daemon began to make his presence known. He was no longer just the brother of the king—he was a force in his own right. He moved through the hall with ease, exchanging pleasantries with various courtiers but never staying in one place for too long. Annatar, though more reserved, followed in his wake, watching the subtle interactions between the Targaryen family and their allies.

Eventually, Daemon's attention turned to Rhaenyra, who stood with Laenor. He approached them, his eyes narrowing as he assessed the situation. Rhaenyra met his gaze, an unreadable expression on her face.

Daemon (grinning):

"Still playing the part, Rhaenyra? Don't tell me you've already settled for Laenor."

Rhaenyra (with a smirk):

"You're one to talk. If you want the throne, Daemon, perhaps you should marry me."

The tension between them was electric, but Daemon only laughed, brushing it off as if it was a game. Still, Annatar could sense the deeper layers of their relationship—there was history between them, and perhaps even unspoken desires that neither of them fully acknowledged.

Meanwhile, across the room, Ser Criston Cole had been watching Rhaenyra and Daemon with increasing discomfort. He had long harbored feelings for the princess, and it was clear that her interactions with Daemon only intensified his internal struggle. Annatar, noticing Criston's growing distress, turned to Daemon.

Annatar (softly):

"It looks like your Kingsguard is having a bit of trouble with the situation."

Daemon (with a smirk):

"Let him stew in his own thoughts. But you're right—he's not the only one wrestling with his emotions tonight."

As the night wore on, the feast took a darker turn. Laenor's lover, Ser Joffrey Lonmouth, had made his move to confront Ser Criston Cole, attempting to blackmail him into keeping his secret. But Criston, feeling cornered, snapped, beating Joffrey to death in front of the entire hall. The gruesome scene shocked everyone, bringing the feast to a disastrous halt.

Annatar's gaze was steady as he watched the violence unfold. He had seen death before, but the public nature of this was something else entirely. Daemon, too, appeared unfazed, though there was a glint of amusement in his eyes at the chaos around him.

Daemon (whispering to Annatar):

"A sad end for Ser Joffrey. But perhaps it's fitting for this family—destruction is in their blood."

Annatar (nodding, his voice low):

"No one here knows how to play their part without consequences."

[Scene: The Private Ceremony – Rhaenyra and Laenor's Hasty Marriage]

Later that night, in the quiet of the Red Keep, Rhaenyra and Laenor were wed in a private ceremony. The marriage, while necessary to maintain the appearance of duty, lacked any semblance of love. Daemon stood nearby, watching the proceedings with his usual detached amusement.

Annatar, ever the observer, took in the scene as well, his thoughts heavy with the realization that this was just another step in a long game of power and manipulation. When the ceremony was over, Viserys collapsed from the strain, and the court was left to deal with the aftermath.

Daemon (to Annatar, as they both turned to leave):

"Let's hope the next time we're in this hall, it's for a different reason."

Annatar (looking at the throne, then back at Daemon):

"If it were up to me, Daemon, I'd never return to this place. But it seems we're both bound to it."