Chapter 7
"Higher! Faster!" Lucerys yelled as he held onto Baelon’s waist as they took a flight around the island.
Baelon looked down to find people waving him down, and he made his way down, landing gracefully.
"Lucerys!" Rhaenyra rushed to her second, making sure he was okay as he dismounted the broom. "Are you alright?"
"Yes, mother," said Lucerys with a bright smile. "Did you see? I flew without a dragon?"
"Yes, I saw," said Rhaenyra, turning to Baelon.
"Where is my father?" asked Baelon, curiously unable to spot his father in the crowd of people.
"He went to have a word with the king," said Rhaenyra.
"That was quite an impressive display, young man," Baelon turned around to find a man dressed in all green walking towards him.
"Thank you, my lord," said Baelon, recognizing the pin on his chest. His father had warned him to stay away from the hand.
"Lord Otto," said Rhaenyra coldly. "I would have thought you’d be at Aegon’s side. He is your grandson after all."
"The boy will be fine," said Lord Otto coldly. "It was just a sprained wrist after all."
"I could fix it—" Baelon shut his mouth, suddenly realizing he’d said too much. His father had warned him people would want to know what his magic could do.
"So you can heal people?" said Otto, his eyes shining.
"I should go," said Baelon with a bow. "I should go find my father. It was nice meeting you." Carrying his broom with him, he scurried off, with Otto’s eyes watching him the whole time.
***
"Daemon’s son is certainly something," said Corlys, pouring himself a glass of wine. Leana’s funeral had certainly been memorable, just not in the way he’d expected.
"I worry," said Rhaenys. "Daemon is rash and impulsive. He has a vendetta against the king, gods know what he has been telling the boy."
"Do you think Daemon may use the boy to go against Viserys?" Corlys sipped his wine, letting his mind wander. Only Daemon knew the limits of Baelon’s powers. Could he truly use his son in a bid to get revenge for his wounded pride?
"We must prepare for the unexpected," said Rhaenys. "Daemon has always stayed loyal to Viserys. But that was before Baelon. I fear Viserys made a grave error in going against the boy."
The rest they left unsaid. Daemon was always proud and quick to anger. Now with a father’s wrath at his side, who knew what would happen and how many people would burn if Viserys continued to antagonize him.
And which innocents would get caught in the crossfire.
***
"You called for me, your grace," Daemon strolled into Viserys' chambers.
"Daemon," Viserys looked at his brother with a sigh. "We need to talk."
"About what, your grace?"
"Don’t play the fool," snapped Viserys. "Do you think I’m stupid? That little display, Baelon attacking Aegon. I know you are behind it."
"Their childish quarrel has nothing to do with me," Daemon watched Viserys breathe deeply as he tried to calm down.
"I have a request," said Viserys calmly.
"What is it?" asked Daemon, curiously.
"Baelon, allow him to foster in King's Landing. He can squire under Criston Cole—"
"No," Daemon snapped, turning around to leave. "You must have truly lost your mind if you think I’d ever let my son carry swords and shields for that cunt."
"He is a member of the Kingsguard and an accomplished knight."
"He’s a cunt! Your court is full of them—traitors and snakes, the whole lot of them. Pulling on your strings."
"Daemon, I’m trying to meet you halfway. You declined the betrothal to Helaena. Do not deprive your son of a chance to make something of himself. Let him foster in King's Landing; perhaps in the future, he might get a keep of his own if—"
"He had a keep!" Yelled Daemon angrily. "Until you took it away from him."
"Daemon, I had hoped you’d change your mind about the betrothal. It was supposed to be a threat. I promise, I had no intentions of actually—"
"Your raven was pretty clear," snapped Daemon angrily. "A royal decree stripping my son of his birthright."
"Daemon, Otto misunderstood my threat. He thought he was acting upon my wishes—"
“Of course he did,” said Daemon, his voice dripping in sarcasm.
"Daemon, Baelon’s gifts! Do you not understand what is at stake? Even now, word spreads of his power. The lords and septons say the gods favor him. Do you not understand what this could mean for my children, for Rhaenyra?"
"What are you talking about?"
"If the smallfolk discover his gifts. They will flock to him; they might see him as the rightful king. His powers put all my children and Rhaenyra’s in danger."
Daemon’s face went red with rage.
"Are you accusing my son of treason?" He stepped forward only for Ser Westerling to step between him and the king.
"Of course not. He is but a boy. But what of the man he will become. What of his children, should he pass on his gifts to them? Could they not rise against Rhaenyra when she becomes queen or her children after her?"
"The only traitor here is you, brother," yelled Daemon. "I raised an army to protect your claim. I followed your commands to return and lay with my wife, and all you have done is punish me."
"Punish you! By offering you a place at my court and a princess for your son?"
"I don’t need anything from you," sneered Daemon, turning away before he could say anything more he’d regret.
"You will ruin that boy," said Viserys. "You will mold him into a twisted version of you—reckless and rash. I saw the way you smiled when he attacked Aegon. You were proud of him, flaunting his strength."
"You are right to be afraid," said Daemon coldly. "Baelon is not me, he is better. He has it in him to be better than all your children combined. That is your true fear, that my blood will overshadow yours."
"Is that a threat?"
Daemon didn’t respond, but a smile formed on his face. Then he turned around and walked out of the room, slamming the door behind him.