Chapter 2
"Kepa! Catch me!"
Baelon laughed as he jumped from the balcony overlooking the training yard. Daemon was sparring with the runestone master-at-arms when he turned to find the small two-year-old jumping into the air.
“Baelon, no!” He dropped his sword to the ground and ran towards his son, trying to prevent him from cracking his skull open. Instead, Baelon floated gently in the air, gliding down at an unnaturally slow pace. He giggled as Daemon rushed to him, plucking him from the air to hold him tight.
“Baelon, you scared me!” He held his son close, who giggled in his arms. Caraxes growled in the distance, probably sensing Daemon’s distress, and Baelon wrapped his small arms around Daemon’s neck.
“I’m sorry, Kepa,'' the small boy buried his face in Daemon’s chest and Daemon sighed. Since the reveal of Baelon’s powers, Daemon’s days had been thrown into chaos. If anything, his gifts had pushed Daemon near paranoia.
Baelon was always up to some unpredictable mischief. From making his toys float in the air, to summoning a cloud to make it snow in his bedroom. His son was truly closer to a god. Daemon had forbidden talks of his son's powers to leave Runestone, but he knew the secret was probably out. With Baelon’s careless use of magic in front of the servants and the spies that were surely infiltrating his court.
Daemon had questioned every servant closely, promising them a painful death should they betray his trust. Who knew who might try to harm or take Baelon for their own nefarious purposes. Daemon would burn the Seven Kingdoms to the ground before he let anyone get their hands on his son.
“My prince, there are men at the gates,” a knight rushed towards him with a worried look on his face.
“And? Send them away. I have no wish to see guests,” sneered Daemon as he held Baelon in his arms.
“It is Ser Gawyne Hightower, son of the Hand. He brings a message from the king.” Daemon’s nostrils flared, and he stepped forward past the knight. The Hightowers.
***
Gwayne stared up at the sky at the massive red beast circling above. Caraxes landed before them with a thud, spooking the horses who whinnied. The gate opened, and he watched as a man stepped out, flanked by a bunch of Runestone knights. In his arms was a small child; he spotted messy dark curls upon the child’s head and a cold expression on the rogue prince’s face.
“What do you want?” He demanded coldly.
“I have a letter from the king,” said Gwayne, handing it to a knight who passed it to the prince. The prince ripped it open and sneered. “We are to escort you and the prince back to King's Landing by order of His Grace, Viserys Targaryen.”
“No,” Daemon said, making the bloodworm growl.
“To defy the king is treason,” stuttered Gwayne, and Daemon grinned.
“It is by the king’s own command that I am even here,” said Daemon. “It is he who banished me from court; I have no wish to see my dear brother.”
“Then what of your son?” said Gwayne, repeating the words his father had told him. “Refusal to comply will result in your son’s banishment from the royal court. He will not be allowed to bond with a dragon, and his seat of Runestone will go to Lady Royce’s closest male relative, her nephew.”
Daemon’s eyes flared with rage as he pulled out his sword.
“He wouldn’t dare,” Daemon's face flashed with fury as he held his son tightly. Baelon, for his part, watched the scene with curious violet eyes. The bad man was making his father angry.
“Bad man! Bad man!” Gwayne screamed as an unnatural force lifted him from his horse. He hung suspended in the air by one leg as his arms flailed wildly. Daemon watched the scene as his son laughed in his arms, and a smile formed on his face. The Hightower knights looked horrified as Gwayne fell to the ground with a thud.
Gwayne stared up at Daemon with wild eyes. The child laughed in the prince's arms, and Gwayne's nostrils flared as he lifted himself upwards.
“Good job, Baelon," said Daemon encouragingly as he looked down at the knight with a smirk on his face. “As you can see, my son is no ordinary child. I would watch my words around him if I were you.”
“The king demands you bring him to court,” growled Gwayne as Daemon laughed. “Send a raven to my brother; tell him I will ride to see him by the moon's end.”
Then he turned around, and Caraxes took flight. Gwayne watched as Daemon entered the castle, closing the gate behind him.
***
“Dracarys!” Caraxes let out a burst of flames, lighting up the sky above King's Landing, and Daemon watched as Baelon giggled happily.
“Raaaaaaaar,” growled Baelon happily as Caraxes circled the sky. The maester had advised against traveling by dragon with Baelon, but Daemon had ignored the old fool. He himself was a newborn when his own mother had taken him on his first flight on Meleys.
They landed in the dragon pit, and immediately the guards swarmed him.
“My prince, you have returned,” said Harrold Westerling, the commander of the king's guard. “I was sent by the king to retrieve you and the young prince.”
Daemon sneered as he dismounted Caraxes with Baelon on his arm.
“I won’t be staying long,” said Daemon. “Have Caraxes fed and ready to depart before nightfall.” With Baelon on his hip, he made his way towards the carriage.
“My prince, are you sure? The king has had your old chambers prepared for you, as well as a room for your son and a night nurse for his needs.”
“I will not be staying,” insisted Daemon. “My brother made his feelings known when he banished me. As for my son, he will not be leaving my side for a second the entire time we’re here.”
Ser Westerling nodded as he watched the prince carry his son protectively. Daemon Targaryen was the last person he’d expected to be such a devoted father.
***
“Presenting Prince Daemon Targaryen and his son, Prince Baelon Targaryen, heir to Runestone.” Daemon burst through the doors of the throne room, barely giving the announcer time to read through his titles. His red cape flowed behind him dramatically as he walked with purpose towards the Iron Throne where his brother sat holding court.
Lords and Ladies whispered around him as he walked with Baelon in his arms before giving his brother a short bow. Otto Hightower's eyes flared as Daemon looked up at his brother.
“Your grace,” he said coldly as he placed the young boy on the floor. Otto looked at the boy curiously, he had the same violet eyes as his accursed father and the same dark raven hair as Lady Royce. The child clung to Daemon’s leg as he held a stuffed dragon toy in his arms.
“Brother, I have missed you,” Daemon scoffed. “You have ignored my summons for nearly a year.”
“Summons,” said Daemon with a raised eyebrow. “Perhaps the ravens got lost.”
“Daemon, enough!” Otto grinned as Viserys yelled at the rogue prince.
“You summoned me, and I am here,” said Daemon coldly. “What do you want?”
“I have heard rumors about your son,” all eyes fell on the small toddler holding on to Daemon’s leg. Baelon hid his face in Daemon's knee. The boy clung to the stuffed dragon as Daemon put a reassuring hand on his head.
“What rumors?” said Daemon in mock innocence as Viserys frowned.
“Don’t play the fool, Daemon, is it true? Has your son been gifted by the gods?” Daemon watched the way Otto’s eyes gleamed, and he instantly became wary. Surely the Hightower fool was the one behind this.
Daemon knelt down to face his son. He pressed a kiss to his forehead as he pet the small stuffed dragon.
“Baelon, could you please make him fly?” Baelon looked up at his papa with a wide smile, nodding his head, making his dark curls bounce wildly.
“Okay, Kepa!” Baelon took his stuffed dragon and with a happy yell tossed it into the air. The entire court gasped as they watched the stuffed dragon flap its wings. The small dragon flew above the Iron Throne as the lords and ladies of the court yelled in shock and awe.
Viserys went pale, as did Otto Hightower, and Daemon grinned as he watched the small stuffed dragon circle the throne room. Baelon laughed, and Daemon grinned as the dragon landed once more in Baelon’s arms. He turned to Daemon with an expectant smile.
“Good job, Baelon,” Daemon picked up his son, pressing a kiss to his cheek. He turned to Viserys coldly as his brother gripped the throne tightly. “You have your answer now, brother. Now, if you’ll excuse me, my son and I will be making our way back to Runestone where you banished me.”
“Daemon-“ Daemon didn’t even bother listening to the rest of his brother’s sentence before he turned around to leave. Men and ladies scattered to get out of his way until the voice of Otto Hightower rang out.
“Guards, stop him!”
A young man with dark hair stepped forward, his hand on the pommel of his sword. Ser Criston Cole, Daemon stood before the knight, blocking his path.
“The king has not dismissed you,” said the Knight coldly.
“Move, or you will be moved,” said Daemon, clutching his son tightly.
“Daemon, enough,” yelled Viserys as Daemon stood face to face with the Dornish Knight.
“Baelon, bad man,” said Daemon, and Baelon looked up at the knight who grimaced back at him.
“No! Bad man! No!” Baelon’s face scrunched up, and Criston yelled as he was knocked off his feet. His armor clanked as he was slammed into a wall with a loud thud. The air was knocked from his lungs, and Daemon laughed as he watched the proud knight struggle to lift himself off the ground.
He was surrounded by an army of knights, and he turned around to face his brother.
“You would harm your own brother, Your Grace?” Daemon glared at Viserys with rage in his eyes.
“Daemon, we have to talk,'' said Viserys, still visibly shocked by Baelon’s display of power.
“Your grace, we must act immediately,” said Otto, turning to Viserys with panic in his eyes. “Clearly Prince Daemon is not fit to care for the young prince. He encouraged him to attack one of your knights. Perhaps the boy should be kept from his father?”
“Otto, please we-“
“If you try to take my son from me, I will burn the kingdoms to the ground,” Daemon's voice rang out, and the entire throne room was silent. Lords and ladies watched the two brothers stare at each other with baited breath. Such a threat was treason.
“Uncle, please. At least stay the night; perhaps cooler heads might prevail in the morning,” Daemon turned to Princess Rhaenyra who stepped forward from the crowd, and Daemon’s expression softened. She looked different than the young girl he’d remembered, dressed in all black with red rubies adorning her dress.
“Princess Rhaenyra,” he bowed, and the tension in the room seemed to dissipate slightly.
“Please, uncle, there is much we must speak about. Do it for your son. You can stay in our wing of the castle; Jacaerys and Lucerys can meet their cousin.” Rheanyra looked down at Baelon, who looked up at her with a smile.
“Fine,” said Daemon, relenting. “We shall stay the night, but only the night. I have no wish to be here.”
Otto looked like he wanted to argue, but he said nothing. Rhaenyra smiled and linked an arm with Daemon’s.
She booped Baelon’s nose and the small child giggled.
“Hello, sweetling, I'm Rhaenyra, your cousin. Father, I will show Uncle Daemon to his quarters,” she bowed, and Viserys nodded as he watched his daughter and brother depart.
Daemon’s threat playing in his mind.