Meeting Family

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The Following 11 Chapters are available for Patrons.

Chapter 9 (A Past Forgotten), Chapter 10 (King's Landing), Chapter 11 (Queen Alysanne), Chapter 12 (House Velayron), Chapter 13 (Reunion), Chapter 14 (Back to Winterfell), Chapter 15 (A Walk Through Memories), Chapter 16 (A Feast), Chapter 17 (A Memory of The Past), Chapter 18 (A Reunion), and Chapter 19 (Leaving The North) are already available for Patrons.

Baelon Targaryen - Late 96 AC

"Why is Cannibal here?" The moment they walked inside the carriage, Prince Baelon told the rider to ride straight to the Red Keep; As Lyanna gently took Aenar from his arms, the crown prince couldn't help but feel a sense of familiarity wash over him; he had held his own children this way countless times before. He expected his grandson to fall asleep in Lyanna's embrace, but instead, the little one's curious eyes were fixated on the outside world. The carriage was riding through a busy part of the city, bustling with people going about their day.

Aenar was mesmerized by the sights and sounds of the bustling city, his eyes following the movement of the people on the street. However, as soon as the carriage passed by, the pedestrians quickly scattered away from the imposing presence of the royal carriage, leaving behind a trail of dust and the faint sounds of their conversations. Baelon could see the many people waving their hands, bowing their heads, knowing Prince Baelon was inside, but the carriage was guarded by over twenty gold cloaks and two Kingsguards.

As the morning sun rose over the kingdom, casting a golden glow over the bustling docks, the anticipation of Prince Daemon's arrival began to build. The king, accompanied by his son Prince Baelon, had already been informed by the scouts that the long-awaited ship would soon be pulling into the harbor. His grandfather, as always, had an almost emotionless face. He still wasn't happy with Daemon's activities before he was married. It seemed Lyanna had set him straight or, At the very least, eased his worse impulses.

Baelon, was overwhelmed with joy and excitement when he received the news of his grandson's birth. The mere thought of holding the little bundle of joy in his arms filled his heart with warmth. However, the heavy burden of his responsibilities as a prince and a future king weighed heavily on his mind, pushing him to put his duties to the kingdom above his own desires.Despite his innermost wish to fly straight to Dragonstone with his dragon and see his grandson, the voice of reason within him reminded him that his father, the current king, would not approve of such impulsive behavior. Baelon knew that his father had high expectations of him and would be displeased and disappointed if he shirked his duties as the crown prince. So, with a heavy heart, Baelon decided to stay put

None were quite as overjoyed as Queen Alysanne and Princess Gael, who eagerly anticipating the arrival of the little prince. Gael couldn't help but let out a delighted laugh. "I can't wait to take him on a Dragon Ride!" she exclaimed. "Just imagine, Aenar soaring through the skies on the back of a mighty dragon, the wind rushing through his hair and the world at his feet. It will be a sight to behold!"

As the news of House Targaryen's new Prince reached King Jaehaerys, a glimmer of happiness flickered in his eyes, yet it was soon dimmed by the displeasure that swelled within him upon learning the name chosen by Daemon for his son. Though the King didn't explicitly express his discontent, Baelon, noticed a faint frown creasing the wrinkles on his old face as the name had been uttered for the first time.

Two months after the birth of Prince Aenar, Princess Aemma Arryn gave birth to Princess Rhaenyra, and due to only being two months younger than Prince Aenar. Queen Alysanne and King Jaehaerys had brought up the possibility of a betrothal between the two, saying it would strengthen House Targaryen.

But Prince Baelon knew the real reason why his father wanted this betrothal to happen. Due to Daemon's rebellious nature, King Jaehaerys feared what the future might bring them. For this reason, he wanted Daemon's son to be tied to Viserys's daughter. This would eliminate any possibility of Daemon going against his brother in the future. Baelon knew his son would never do that, he wasn't proud of his son's activities, but he doubted Daemon would betray his own brother. He valued family above all.

While his father's argument had been a good one, Queen Alysanne quickly brought up another good point.

"A betrothal between Prince Aenar and Princess Rhaenyra would be a good choice, but we must look at the other side of our family." Queen Alysanne's voice silenced everyone in the room. Her figure radiated power. Despite being sixty name days, the Queen's strength shone through, even though her back was slightly crooked from years of helping her husband, King Jaehaerys, to rule over the Seven Kingdoms with grace and wisdom. She held a goblet filled with rich, red wine in her fingers, the detail of the handle decorated to resemble Dragon Wings, a symbol of the power and authority that she possessed as the Queen of the realm.

"What are you proposing, dear wife?" Jaehaerys asked, looking at her intently.

"We all know Rhaenys it's not happy that she didn't become the crown princess after our dear Aemon died. Two years ago, she gave birth to Laena Velayron. I think a tie between our family would be a beneficial one for the future." her words were laced with a subtle hint of bitterness that lingered in her mouth like a sour taste. It was clear that the wound of Jaehaerys choosing Baelon over Rhaenys had not yet healed, despite the passing of time. Even as she recounted the events that unfolded, her voice trembled slightly as she tried to hold back the pain of that fateful decision.

King Jaehaerys seemed to be in deep thought as he repeated his wife's words in his head before turning to face his only son left, wanting to know what he thought.

His father's piercing gaze was fixed on him, filled with an air of expectation that made Baelon feel both nervous and determined. "Baelon, you're the crown prince. What are you proposing?" his father asked, his voice strong and authoritative. Baelon took a deep breath and cleared his throat, gathering his thoughts before speaking.

"I know Viserys was betrothed to Aemma when they were in the crib. I think both marriages would be good for House Targaryen. I think it's better if we have them grow together and eventually see which is the better option. I'm still strong, I will rule for years, and if the gods are good, Viserys will have a son. But when it comes to Daemon. I think we can wait for now." Baelon explained, his hands instinctively clasped together on the table before him.

The wrinkles on Jaehaerys' old face seemed to deepen, forming a furrowed brow. However, his eyes flickered towards his wife, who stood beside him, beaming with pride at their son. Jaehaerys' gaze softened as he watched his wife's expression of approval, and he nodded in agreement with her.

"It's about time you made decisions, my son. I will approve of this."

After that talk, months passed, and five months after the birth of Prince Aenar. Prince Baelon had sent two letters, one to his son and one to his niece. Both had the same message.

'Come to King's Landing.'

As the distant roar grew louder, Baelon knew that Rhaenys had arrived, riding atop her magnificent dragon, Meleys. Though it had been some time since he had last laid eyes on the beast, it was clear that she had grown significantly, her scales glinting in the sunlight as she descended towards the Dragon Pit. As Rhaenys landed gracefully, Baelon couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness as he watched her dismount. Seeing her ride Meleys was like watching his late wife, who had been a true Dragonrider just like her forebears.

Despite her husband being a sailor, Princess Rhaenys refused to sail to King's Landing. Baelon wondered if she did that because she wanted to show her strength or because she loved riding her dragon.

Baelon remembered his talk with Rhaenys a year ago. He had tried to patch things with them.

When Aemon had died, Baelon had been consumed with grief. His brother was his closest and oldest friend. They were twins, and since his brother's death, he had felt as though there was a hole inside of him. One that nothing could fill. He had not even felt like this when his Alyssa had died, then had come to the realization that his father was not clear about the succession. He had thought it simple enough, Rhaenys was the eldest child of the eldest son was heir. But father had seen different, and so had come to the cause of the Second Quarrel between his parents. And the reason he was here on Driftmark. He had flown from King's Landing earlier in the day and had left Vhagar to wander the land and the sea. Meleys had not responded when he had landed, though perhaps because she had known him when Alyssa had ridden her, she was less likely to give into anger.

The guards had escorted him into the castle and then to the lord's solar, where Mother, Lord Corlys, and Rhaenys were waiting for him. He bowed before Mother and nodded to the other two. "Sit down, Your Royal Highness," Corlys said. The man was a few years older than him, but Baelon was a Prince and the heir to the throne. He could have the man's tongue cut off if he wanted, but he decided against that. He sat down.

"Why have you come?" Rhaenys demanded. He thought for a moment that perhaps he had made a mistake, but he pushed the thought aside.

"I have come to talk, to talk to you all," Baelon said simply.

"What is there to talk about?" Rhaenys asked. "Have you come to rub in the salt?"

Baelon sighed. He noticed Mother had not said anything yet. "I have not come to do anything of the sort. I have come to sort things out between us." He looked at Mother and spoke to her then. "I loved Aemon. He was my brother and my closest friend. I would gladly have served him when he ascended the throne. I told father as much after word came of his death. I told Jocelyn the same. I told them both that Rhaenys should have the throne. She is Aemon's oldest and only child, and as such, by all the laws of Gods and Men, should come before me in succession. I told father this. I begged him to right the wrong he had done. And yet he refused and insisted that I be his heir."

"Why?" Rhaenys asked. Baelon noticed that Mother was not looking at him, though there were tears in her eyes.

Baelon kept looking at Mother, knowing it would be easier for him to say this if he looked at her. If he looked at Rhaenys, he would see Aemon, and then he would break. "I do not know what has been said to father in council, but he is convinced that some war will come soon to Westeros. He is convinced that the pirates are just the beginning of something worse. He argued that there needed to be a man to sit the throne, for even if Rhaenys took the throne, men would look to her husband, not her, and that could not be allowed."

"The King is not always right," Corlys said through clenched teeth.

Baelon ignored him and kept looking at Mother. "I told him that he was speaking nonsense. I told him that Rhaenys was more than capable of handling the realm's lords. That Lord Corlys would be a fine consort. But he did not like that. He insisted I take the heirdom and Dragonstone."

"Why did you not refuse?" Rhaenys asked then, accusation present in her voice.

Mother spoke then, and as she did, she looked at Rhaenys. "Because the King's word is the law. To refuse would be to show that his word meant nothing. It would undermine the power of the throne." Mother looked at him then, and he smiled at her tentatively. She took his hand. "I do not blame you for the mistakes that your father has made, Baelon. You are my son, and I love you more than life itself. I do not, however, agree with your father or his rationale. I do not know how this can be fixed, but I want it to be fixed."

"Grandfather denied me of what is my birthright," Rhaenys said, sounding more like a child than an expecting mother, but she reminded Baelon of Alyssa and Jocelyn combined.

"There is a way to ensure your family is not denied your inheritance," Baelon said.

Rhaenys looked at him and asked. "And what is that?"

"An agreement between the two of us," Baelon said.

"What sort of agreement?" Corlys asked.

"A Marriage."

After Rhaenys arrived in King's Landing with her husband and daughter, Baelon had talked with her, Baelon hoped he could tie things with the Velayrons. He would like to say that he wouldn't mind whoever Aenar's wife would be, but he hoped Aenar would get to marry Lady Laena.

Time will tell, Baelon thought, letting out a weary sigh, feeling his shoulders heavy, he had yet to become King, and he already felt the crown's weight on his head.

When words got that the ship was near the docks, Baelon decided to wait for his son. They hadn't talked like father and son for a long time. He hoped hearing that Summerhall was almost completed would lift his son's spirit somehow.

But when the scouts confirmed that two dragons were flying behind the ship, chaos ensued; Baelon knew it couldn't be Daemon's dragon, and Aenar was still only a baby. He was way too young to claim a dragon. He had been halfway to the docks when he saw Cannibal flying over the Wall of King's Landing.

As Baelon gazed up at the ominous black dragon flying over King's Landing, he felt his breath catch in his throat as he suddenly realized with a sinking feeling that he was Cannibal. Baelon couldn't help but feel a sense of dread wash over him as he imagined the black dragon's massive jaws opening wide, ready to spew forth a torrent of deadly Green Flames that could rain down upon the city at any moment.

As if feeling his rider's tension, Vhagar released a roar toward the black dragon from The Dragon Pit. Her mighty roar was heard throughout the entire city. Baelon had seen how the black dragon had looked at the Dragon Pit before flying away, eventually landing on the King's Wood.

After greeting his son, wife, and their first child, Baelon had told them to get inside the carriage the moment they did. Baelon turned to look at his son.

"Why is Cannibal here?"

Daemon explained that three months ago, when he took his son to fly, Cannibal had shown interest in Aenar, and now he had flown after the ship as if Aenar was his rider somehow.

Baelon didn't know what to make of what he had just heard. What his son told him didn't make sense, dragons never followed someone like that unless they were their rider, but now, Cannibal had followed Aenar behind. He knew this probably meant...

As they journeyed towards King's Landing, the atmosphere in the carriage was tense with a palpable sense of anticipation, and Baelon could not help but get lost in his own thoughts. It was then that Lyanna's voice shattered the silence. "Your grace, how is this possible?" startling Baelon out of his reverie. Her incredulous question hung in the air. As he turned towards her, his eyes met Aenar's, who was still gazing out of the window with a look of deep contemplation on his face. Even as the carriage jolted over a rough patch of road, Aenar remained transfixed by the sight of King's Landing. Baelon smiled at his grandson's curiosity. His attention turned to Lady Lyanna.

"Truthfully, I don't know. I don't think I have heard of something like this happening before, but as long as Cannibal it's not showing aggression, then we are good." Baelon told Lyanna with a convincing smile, knowing his words did little to ease her worries. He didn't know why Cannibal was acting like that, but he knew just how much havoc it could cause. A dragon-like him was unstable and unpredictable.

Every dragon of House Targaryen was to be chained in the Dragon Pit when they arrived in King's Landing, with no exceptions unless their rider were nearby. Cannibal wasn't chained, and if the Dragon truly thought of Aenar as his rider, he wouldn't allow anyone else to lead him to the dragon pit to be chained, and Aenar was still only a baby, which means that Cannibal was free and near a city as big as King's Landing.

Baelon felt a headache. His father wouldn't be happy.

Red Keep

As the carriage approached the Red Keep, the imposing fortress loomed before them. The large metallic doors, emblazoned with the sigil of the house, slowly creaked open, revealing a glimpse of the soldiers who stood guard on the other side. The sound of the doors echoed through the courtyard, bouncing off the high walls and filling the air with a deafening metallic clang. With a steady hand, the driver guided the horses inside, their hooves clattering on the stone floor as they pulled the carriage through the entrance and into the heart of the castle. All around them, the busy hum of court life filled the air, as lords and ladies bustled about their business, and the servants scurried to and fro, attending to their duties.

The sound of the carriage wheels grinding to a halt echoed through the courtyard as the elegant carriage came to a stop. Without a moment's pause, a servant sprung into action with a flourish, opening the carriage door with a practiced hand. Prince Baelon stepped outside, his leather boots touching the ground with a solid thump, and he stood tall with his head held high, exuding confidence and poise. As if on cue, two Kingsguards in their polished armor approached him, their swords glinting in the sunlight.

Prince Daemon and Lyanna looked at the large castle in front of them, mainly Aenar, who was looking at the tall towers, he craned his neck upward, trying to see the top of the tower to the point that his neck hurt a little.

As Prince Daemon approached his father, Baelon, he couldn't help but notice the hushed tones in which he was conversing with the Kingsguard. Curiosity piqued, he drew closer to the pair, his eyes darting between them in anticipation. After a moment, Baelon turned to face his son, his expression serious and guarded. "The King and The Queen want to see Aenar," he said, his voice low and measured.

As they walked inside the castle, through its large halls, the sound of their footsteps echoed around them. Aenar looked around in awe, mesmerized by how grand and spacious the interior of the castle was. The high ceilings and towering walls made him feel tiny in comparison. He couldn't help but stare in wonder at the intricate details of the castle's architecture, from the ornate carvings on the walls to the intricate designs of the windows.As they ascended the stairs, Aenar's eyes were drawn to the dragon decorations that adorned the walls. The sigil of the Royal Family, a Three-Headed Dragon, was proudly displayed throughout the castle. Stone statues of dragons' heads protruded from the walls, their fierce expressions seeming to follow Aenar's every move. Even the candle holders attached to the walls resembled dragon hands holding the flickering flames.

A fountain was in the castle's garden, a stunning fountain, adorned with a statue of a young boy at its center. The boy was depicted with a mischievous grin, and he was carrying two baby dragons made of silver - one perched atop his shoulder, and the other nestled safely in his delicate, silver hands. The craftsmanship of the statue was truly remarkable, with every detail carved to perfection, from the intricate folds of the boy's clothing to the delicate scales on the dragons' bodies. As the sun beamed down upon it, the fountain sparkled and glimmered like the most precious jewel in the world, casting a rainbow of colors across the garden and evoking a sense of wonder and awe.

Lyanna couldn't help but feel an immense sense of pride and joy watching her son point at every little detail he found. His eyes sparkled with curiosity and wonder, and every time he giggled, it felt like the sweetest sound in the world. She leaned down to kiss the top of his head.

As they made their way through the castle, they drew the attention of all the lords and ladies who happened to be nearby. They paused in their tracks, staring in awe and admiration at Princess Lyanna and Prince Daemon, who walked with a regal grace that commanded respect and admiration. But it was the tiny bundle in Lyanna's arms that caught their attention the most - Prince Aenar, her newborn son.The lords and ladies couldn't help but gush over the baby, showering him with compliments and blessings for a long and prosperous life.

As they made their way down the long, winding corridor, their footsteps echoing against the ornate walls. Finally, they arrived at the grand entrance to the throne room, flanked by two towering guards in gleaming armor. The double doors that stood before them were a sight to behold, crafted from pure gold with intricate etchings that sparkled in the dim light. The handles were fashioned to resemble the serpentine necks of dragons, coiled and poised to strike at any moment.

Two gold cloaks opened up the door; Lyanna was holding Aenar in her arms as they walked inside the throne room. Not much had changed.

The ceiling soared high above them, supported by towering columns that seemed to reach for the heavens. The room was cavernous, easily able to house more than a hundred people, yet it felt empty with only a handful of occupants. Despite its grandeur, the throne room was shrouded in silence as the trio made their way towards the throne, which stood regally at the far end of the hall.

And in the hall's far end was The Iron Throne, with King Jaehaerys seated upon it, adorned in regal attire. The throne itself was a sight to behold, resembling a monstrous creature that could swallow the King whole at any moment. A thousand swords had been melted together to create this magnificent and imposing symbol of power.

As Queen Alysanne sat in her grand chair, which was intricately carved with the sigils of House Targaryen. Her delicate fingers tapped against the armrest as she watched them both kneel before the King, their heads bowed in reverence. "Your Grace. I'm back." Daemon and Lyanna greeted the king courteously; Lyanna was finding it hard to kneel since she was carrying a baby in her arms.

"Stand up, Daemon and Princess Lyanna," Jaehaerys said before standing up from the throne.

"My King, this is my son and your great-grandson. Prince Aenar Targaryen." Daemon said, showing his son to the king. As Jaehaerys slowly walked down the stairs of the iron throne, Queen Alysanne walked up to Lyanna and Aenar.

"He's such a beautiful Prince. He will become a great man." Alysanne said, taking a good look at him, playing with Aenar, who extended his arms towards the Queen. Alysanne expected Aenar to be afraid of her, every baby was scared of strangers, but he extended his arms toward her as if wanting to hug her.

Queen Alysanne leaned in to kiss the tiny nose of her beloved grandson, the six-month-old prince Aenar. She couldn't help but feel a rush of joy and love. Her heart swelled with pride as she hugged the little bundle of joy tight, feeling his little arms reaching up to embrace her in return. Aenar's cherubic face lit up with a smile as he slowly leaned in to plant a soft kiss on his grandmother's weathered cheek, a tender gesture that spoke volumes about the bond that was already forming between them. Despite only having known him for a mere five minutes, Queen Alysanne already loved her grandson.

"You're so lucky, Lyanna," Alysanne said, looking up at her good granddaughter-in-law before giving her Aenar.

King Jaehaerys looked at the new prince. The little prince looked healthy. He just hoped Aenar hadn't taken after his father. Having one Daemon was more than enough. He didn't need a second one.

The Old King saw the way the new prince eyed him with uncertainty, as if not knowing what to make of him yet, whenever he was an interesting person to meet.

"Gods bless him, I'm happy for you, Daemon, but I need to talk with you and Baelon in my solar." The King said, but more like ordering his grandson, who reluctantly nodded.

Later - Daemon Targaryen

As his wife and Aenar were escorted to the grand royal chambers, Prince Daemon took a deep breath and looked up towards the towering walls of the Red Keep. With the familiarity of a former resident, he couldn't help but feel a rush of memories flooding back to him as he made his way toward the King's Solar. Despite the castle's grandeur, the corridors were filled with power-hungry lords, all vying for the favor of the King. Prince Daemon couldn't help but feel a sense of weariness as he walked through the halls, each step echoing with a sense of unease and tension. The Dragonstone had proven to be a better place to raise Aenar and simply live in peace for a few months.

As Daemon approached the King's Solar. The Kingsguards stationed at the door looked imposing and stoic, but as he neared them, they both stepped back in unison, granting him entry without a word. It was clear to Daemon that they had been informed of his arrival beforehand.

Opening the door, he stepped inside, and Daemon saw The King and The Queen sitting around a wooden round table, which was placed in the center of the room. The table was adorned with intricate carvings, and as he approached it, he realized that the wood was intricately carved to resemble the sigil of House Targaryen.

His father was sitting across the table from his parents. Daemon had a few ideas about what they were talking about.

"Your graces," Daemon greeted with enough respect in his voice. His father simply motioned for him to sit down beside him. Daemon would much rather stay on the balcony, but since this conversation involved his son, he decided to sit down beside his father.

Scooting out a chair, Daemon grabbed a pitcher in the middle of the table, filled with wine, before pouring himself a glass of wine. The sound of the glass clinking against the table echoed throughout the room as he poured himself a generous serving of the deep red liquid, savoring the way it glistened in the sunlight. As he lifted the glass to his lips, the only sound that could be heard was the soft trickle of the wine being poured and the distant howl of the wind outside.

"Daemon, why is Cannibal here?" King Jaehaerys asked intently, not bothering to dance around the bush, looking at his grandson, who pressed his lips into a thin line before answering.

Taking a sip of his wine, Daemon explained everything he knew, which wasn't much, but his grandfather and grandmother listened intently. Once he finished his little tale, King Jaehaerys let out a weary sigh.

"We can't allow Cannibal to fly around the city freely. He might start burning people, or worse, attack the Dragon Pit in search of his favorite food." King Jaehaerys said with a tone that left no room for arguments his decision was final.

"I agree; unless he's chained in the Dragon Pit, we can't allow a wild dragon like him to fly around King's Landing." Alysanne agreed with her husband, and Daemon didn't like where this conversation was going. Placing his glass on the table with more strength than necessary, a resounding clink echoed throughout the room, which caused the others to look at him.

"What are you proposing then? That we should kill him." The words rolled off Daemon's tongue, his tone laced with an unmistakable sting of bitterness. It was evident from the way he spoke that he wasn't trying to hide his contempt or resentment.

Prince Baelon, with a subtle raise of his hand, halted the ongoing discussion in the room and interjected, "There's no need for that." His voice, though calm, carried an air of authority that instantly commanded attention from everyone present. The prince had known his son, Daemon, long enough to recognize the indignation that was beginning to boil inside him. The King's decision, though well-intentioned, was not sitting well with the prince, and Baelon could sense that he was about to voice his dissent in a way that could not end well.

Both the King and The Queen turned to face their only son, waiting for him to explain what he meant. "What are you suggesting, my son?" Queen Alysanne asked with a furrowed brow.

"Cannibal had followed Aenar around, but when he flew over the city, Vhagar roared at him from inside the Dragon Pit, and Lady Lyanna told me that for the whole day and night that it took to sail from Dragonstone to King's Landing, he didn't show any signs of aggression towards Caraxes despite being right there, she even told me that Cannibal hunted fish, despite being hungry he didn't attack Caraxes," Baelon said, rubbing the side of his head with his index finger, his father seemed ready to say something, but Baelon continued before he could.

"I'm not saying we should allow him to fly freely. Even if Cannibal doesn't attack our dragons, he's still dangerous to everyone else. I would suggest we feed him enough for a week, but then Daemon will take Aenar and fly to Dragonstone and see if Cannibal will follow Aenar. If he does, we will find a way to have Aenar here occasionally until he's old enough to lead Cannibal to the Dragon Pit." Baelon finished looking at his father and mother, waiting for them to either approve or disapprove. His parents looked conflicted, especially his father, but after a short pause, Alysanne whispered something in Jaehaerys's ear. A moment later, they both nodded in agreement.

Baelon turned to face his son. He had a thoughtful look before nodding along and then standing up from his seat. "Very well. I will go back to Aenar. I promised him I would show him every part of the Red Keep." Daemon said dismissively before walking out the door almost in haste.

Once he reached his bedchamber, he stopped before opening the door. Hearing laughter on the other side, he smiled; Daemon was sure he didn't deserve this amount of happiness, but he would hold into it as long as possible.

With a creaking sound, Daemon turned the doorknob and pushed the door slowly, revealing the cozy interior of the chamber. As he entered, his eyes immediately fell on Lyanna, and Gael, who was holding Aenar, the adorable little bundle of joy, in her arms. Gael looked up at him and smiled but quickly returned her gaze to Aenar, who was giggling uncontrollably as she tickled him playfully. The room was filled with warmth and happiness as Gael's laughter mingled with Aenar's, creating a symphony of joy that put a smile on Daemon's face.

Daemon smiled brightly at the sight. He felt true happiness.

Note: Next Chapter will take place four years after this one.