Lucerys' Dream

“Can you say ‘ah’ for me?” Rhaenyra watched as the Maester made an exaggerated ‘ah’ sound, opening his mouth as big as he could.

Lucerys was sitting on a stool in front of him, both his little hands holding on to it. Her youngest opened his mouth just as he was asked to, showing his perfect little teeth, white as they were when they first came out – his mouth thoroughly healthy.

The man checked upon his mouth and throat, humming while at it.

She'd inspected her son’s mouth herself, searched everywhere for a sign, something that indicated the boy had chewed onto a burning charcoal, but there was nothing. Now, although many hours had passed since then and she was way past the point of losing it, Rhaenyra still felt the pressure of the memory on the back of her head trying to come forward as she pushed it back with all her might.

Every time she relieved it, Rhaenyra felt as if she’d break into hysterics, a myriad of emotions – terror, disbelief, impotence – waving through her with enough strength to make her feel sick to the stomach and Syrax roar from the Pit.

Her uncle’s hands on her shoulders trembled, as if he was experiencing the same feelings as her.

“Very good, my prince. You’ve done well.”

“Thank you.” Lucerys began to kick his feet, his legs dangling from under him.

The Maester was a new one, Jeoran, and had just come from the Citadel. After her mother’s death, Rhaenyra stopped trusting most of the Maesters around her, with Geradys being the sole exception, but it appeared that this one was good with children.

“Would you like to choose a card?” The man showed her boy a stack of wooden cards with the sigils of the big and small houses of Westeros painted on them.

While Lucerys looked over them, his little hands struggling to hold them all to the point the Maester had to help him put them over the table, the man turned his attention back to her.

“I’m afraid I’ve got nothing to add, Princess Rhaenyra.” Was all the Maester told her after all the – not so patient – waiting she had to suffer through so he could finish checking up on Lucerys.

She leaned back on her chair, Daemon still standing behind her, holding her shoulders.

The man in front of her trembled under her stare. Good.

That was the ninth one they visited just that morning and none knew what to say. Rhaenyra knew the situation wasn’t common, but there had to be something they could do.

Laenor had left after the fifth one, taking a much calmer Jace with him and saying he needed to write to his parents and tell them what happened before they found out from someone else. Rhaenyra was quick to agree, she didn’t think anyone would want to deal with an angry Rhaenys and Corlys.

“If I may speak freely, my princess.”

Her uncle snorted.

“You may.”

“The prince appears to be fine and healthy, and I’ve found no trace of any injuries.”

Lucerys held a blue card with the Velaryon symbol on it and a red one with that Targaryen one.

“How can none of your class have anything to say? Do you find it normal for a child to eat charcoal?”

“I… I don’t, my princess, but I-”

Lucerys pulled upon the man’s sleeve, bringing the attention back to him. “Can I h’ve both?” He asked, showing both cards.

The Maester smiled at him, nodding and Rhaenyra lost a bit of her anger at the smile that grew on Luke’s face. She was just so very glad to see it again.

The Maester turned to her again. “As I was saying, it may be difficult for you, Princess, to understand, but to us common people it is already out of ordinary to see people flying dragons… I must say – him eating charcoal is definitely not a common occurrence, but coming from a Targaryen-”

Daemon actually chuckled, and Jeoran shrank under his gaze. Rhaenyra felt the beginnings of a headache pounding on the back of her head, but the Maester was right. Targaryen were said to be closer to gods than to men, but for her, who grew inside the family, them riding dragons was no different from a Velaryon sailing on the ocean, or a knight riding a horse.

She could understand why, despite it seeming strange, he was able to accept so easily that Lucerys could eat a burning charcoal and be fine, but to her – who was used to riding dragons, but not to people touching scorching fire not burn themselves – it was an absurd.

Rhaenyra never stopped to think how the people from Westeros felt or thought about the Targaryens as a family, but now that she did, she didn’t like the feeling one bit. The unknown was frightening.

Suddenly not having Lucerys in her arms made the ugly and uncomfortable feeling that was hovering around her become unbearing.

“Thank you, Maester Jeoran. We shall not take any more of your time.” Daemon went to grab Lucerys, but she took the boy in her arms first, her nerves calming down slightly. Her uncle put one of the boy’s strands behind his ear as Luke showed them his cards.

Passing through the hallways that morning felt the same as when she walked into camp with a dead boar being carried behind her. The people were staring, some of them with awe, the most pious towards the seven with thin veiled suspicion.

Rhaenyra held her head high, both for her son and because she did not feel ashamed or cursed or whatever it was that they may feel or think.

It was a blessing. Lucerys being alive, breathing against her cheek and pressing the rough edges of the wooden cards against her neck in an uncomfortable way was nothing short of a blessing and if anyone were to say differently, she was sure Syrax would make an exception on her diet to eat them.

Daemon’s comforting presence beside her also helped a lot, she had to admit.

They crossed the hallways in slow steps, enjoying each other’s company. Because of Lucerys’ situation the night before, – that caused every habitant of the Red Keep to spend the night awake – Rhaenyra had thought the Castle would be quieter on the morrow, calmer.

However, the further Daemon and she stepped away from the Maester’s quarters, the more she saw people walking past in a hurry, barely stopping to bow at them before returning to their business, – their hands full of opened letters – and although the Princess did not stop walking, her steps did falter at the sudden and loud noise of wings flapping by as a rave flew beside them, forming a huge dark mass in the sky.

She watched, enraptured, as another rave flew to the opposite direction, going straight to the meeting room.

Ser Harwin Strong, who she had temporarily dismissed since she Daemon had insisted on accompanying her through the meeting with the Maesters, came into view when they rounded the hallway’s corner, his usually relaxed stance having become tense by what appeared to be stress.

“Ser Harwin.” She called and Lucerys lifted his head from her shoulder, turning his upper body around to see the man. Harwin was the only person aside from the nursing maids and the family that Luke seemed to like and went out of his way to socialize with. “Care to tell me what is the cause to this... bedlam?”

“It is the ravens, my Princess.” The man said, his voice coming out rushed in an uncharacteristically way. “The are too many.”

A boy that couldn’t be older than six and tem came running in their direction, his arms full of letters. “Here they are, Ser!”

She watched as the Knight grabbed hold of the letters, growing increasingly worried. “I must go.” He bowed his head at them both, sending Lucerys a quick smile before leaving in a fast pace.

Rhaenyra exchanged an apprehensive look with Daemon.

“Give him to me. Let us hurry.” This time, she didn’t deny him and passed a willing Lucerys to his arms, concentrating on not staying behind as they dashed through the hallways.

“Rhaenyra!” Laenor’s relieved face was the first thing she saw when the guards opened the doors. The second thing was the huge, colossal even, pile of letters laying above the large rectangular table. The Maesters, a few servants and even the Hand were working through them, reading and separating the letters in organized smaller piles that only they knew the meanings of. Even Laena was helping, Rhaena and Baela standing by each side of her chair as they lifted themselves to their tiptoes again and again. At the noise they made by entering, their little heads turned into their direction, twin smiles growing on their faces at the sight of them.

Leaving Laena alone at the table, both girls sprinted in their direction, wrapping their arms around Rhaenyra’s legs in a quick hug before turning to their father and Lucerys.

Every few times Rhaenyra could barely believe this was truly happened; that she wasn’t alone anymore. Those two years she spent completely isolated in her own home, having to suffer through the heartbreak that Alicent's and her father’s betrayal caused and be ignored by all in favor of the firstborn son the Realm so dearly wanted day after day were gone.

And she would never allow them to come back.

She stared at the sight before her, watching amusedly as Rhaena pulled on Laenor’s leg so he would put her on his hip and she could talk more closely to Luke, Baela having already all but climbed Daemon's body.

“My child!” Her father voice sounded somewhere behind her and she turned around to see him King walking up to them from the other side of the room with Jacaerys holding his hand, a tired, but large smile on both their faces.

“Luke! Mother!” Her firstborn shouted, letting go of his gandsire’s hand to run up to them and a coo almost left her mouth at how adorable he was when he ran on those small legs of his.

The Princess let out a short laugh as she held him in her arms, and squeezed him in a quick, tight hug. “Hello, my love.”

“Hi!” Jace gave her a peck on the cheek and then turned to Laenor, extending his arms so he could be held by him and be closer to Lucerys. The corner of her husband's mouth curled up and he grabbed Jacaerys by the waist with his free arm and he had to stand by Daemon's side, almost touching him, with a blank expression in his face so the children could talk to each other.

Her father came up to her, kissing her on the cheek in the same way Jace did, seeming happier than she had seen him for a while. Rhaenyra understood him at a deeper level; despite the horrors of the late day, they all turned out to be fine and she felt a surge of happiness wash away the tiredness every time she remembered that.

How are you feeling, child?” Her father asked.

“I h’ve two cards!” Luke exclaimed, showing his grandfather the cards he had on his hand as if that had anything to do with what the man asked. “For being really good.” He explained seriously.

Rhaenyra couldn’t stop her smile even if she wanted it, kissing the crown of the toddler’s head lovingly.

“What did the Maesters say, daughter?” Her father asked once Lucerys was finished with his telling.

“Nothing different from the first two ones.” Viserys had insisted on being with them during the first two check ups and Rhaenyra was aware of the young ears listening to everything they said.

Jace looked over Lucerys with analyzing eyes that reminded her of Laenor when he was trying to figure something out, but when Lucerys showed him the cards, Jace forgot about his worries to gawk over the paintings.

Then, stuffing his small hand on his trousers’ pocket, Luke produced two more cards with the three headed dragon painted on them.

“I got two f’r you too, sisters.” Luke put his hands beside his mouth and whispered – or tried to, because the tone of his voice didn’t change at all. Daemon let out a cackle.

She would talk to the boy about taking things that didn’t belong to him without asking later, but Rhaenyra could not reprehend him over wanting to give the twins a gift, despite of how wrong it was of Luke to have stolen two cards.

The moment was broken when another flock of ravens came in, the flap of their wings so loud it almost made her jump from her place and the children began to shout in delight. “What is the meaning of this?”

“Words of Lucerys’...” Viserys paused and stared at the children around them, their eyes huge as they stopped talking to each other altogether in favor of eavesdropping the conversation between the adults. Rhaenyra wrinkled her nose at them and the four of them turned around to continue their conversation, but she knew they were still listening. “Affliction came out.”

The resounding noise of the heavily textured papers continued as the rave dropped their letters.

“Well, would you look at that, Laena is calling you.” Her uncle put Lucerys and Baela on the ground and she turned to watch Laena arch an eyebrow in confusion at the fact that all seven of them were staring at her. “Off you go.”

Baela grabbed onto Lucerys’ hand and began to pull the younger boy along with her, Rhaena and Jace all but demanding to be put down so they could follow.

Once the children left, she turned back to her husband and her father. “Well?”

“All of the Lords of the Realm are sending their blessings, trying to find a way around to approach the Crown.” Laenor informed, seeming to age ten years all of a sudden. “The letters don’t stop, Rhaenyra. There are congratulations, propositions, invitations, others are asking for a Royal Progress or a feast so they can better meet Luke.”

“The people are calling him the boy who refuses to die. He who twice bested the Stranger. They say he was blessed by the Seven.” Viserys eyes darted between Daemon’s and Rhaenyra’s faces in a nervous manner, watching for their reactions.

Daemon scoffed.

“My son is not an exotic animal for them to observe.” She contained her urge to scowl, aware of the other people in the room. “He is just a boy.”

“I agree, daughter of mine.” Viserys held both her arms softly, his gaze meeting hers and his mouth opened and closed a few times before he reigned over himself and decided to speak his mind. “But this is a good opportunity, an opportunity that may not ever come again. This is your chance to once more strengthen your claim to the throne.”

She knew that, yes. Having Lucerys being seen as someone favored by the Seven would do wonders to bring the faithful to her side, but the biggest part of her – the part that only grew after becoming a mother – made the idea bring a bitter taste to her mouth. “He is only three and zero.”

“That is good.” Het father shook her a little bit. “It will all be good fun for him. Lucerys may not be as extroverted as Jacaerys, but he does enjoy an adventure, as all Targaryens do. And that is all this is going to be for the children, a big adventure.”

He seemed certain of himself, and she could understand his point of view, but Lucerys enjoying it or not he would still be the center of attention. Would still be watched for any abnormalities or put into a spot above all others.

And even if the boy didn’t know the reason, she would. Rhaenyra never had any qualms in using the people around her to get what she wanted, but this was her family, her son. She would never do that to any of them.

Being a Targaryen already put them in a difficult position, but Rhaenyra heard about the people that were seen as chosen by the Seven. None of them lived a happy life, much less a painless fate, and that was the only thing she wished for her children; to live fully and to be happy.

And yet, her father was right. It was the opportunity of her lifetime.

She wanted to ask Daemon for his opinion, wanted to ask Laena for hers, but the only opinion that truly mattered was Laenor’s.

He seemed deep in thought and it made her feel a bit better for not being able to make the decision right away. He had much more time to think it over and was still conflicted.

“My husband and I shall think about it.” She stated, holding Laenor’s gaze and then forcing herself to return her father’s smile. “And I shall take your words in consideration, father.”

The king nodded once, twice. Then he patted her arms a few times. “Take your time, child. For now, we must help them with those letters as I believe soon the pile will enlarge even more.”

Laena's head was already covered from view and Rhaenyra contained a groan. The things she would give to be in her bed right now.

She waited for Daemon to go first, a tilt of her head all he needed to understand that she wanted to talk to Laenor alone.

As they walked towards the table, Laenor pressed himself close to her, their arms touching. “King Viserys is right, it is a good opportunity.”

“And yet it is an difficult one to take.” She muttered, and then, as if hoping to discourage him, she continued. “You would be away from the sea for a long while.”

It would be difficult for him, as a Velaryon, to be away from the ocean. That was also a point to be taken in consideration.

And if Laenor said no, she could use it as an excuse to deny the Lords and pretend it wasn’t because her feelings were taking over her rationality.

“Not necessarily, some of the Houses stand at the coast.”

“That is true, but the majority of them do not.”

He stopped just short of reaching the table and pulled her to stand close to an empty wall. “I know what you are doing, and it is not going to work.”

“Laenor-”

“Do not worry about me. I am a man grown.” He looked around to ascertain himself no one was close enough to eavesdrop, his voice lowering even more and when he held her gaze, it was the strategist – the Knight – and not the boy she grew up with she was staring at. “Whatever we decide, it shall be by weighing the boys’ comfort and the benefits this progress will bring to your claim to the throne and to us as a family. Do not forget it is not only your claim you will be strengthening, but Jace’s as well.”

What she ought not to forget was that both of them had changed in the years of their marriage. Laenor matured as well. Long was the man that left her alone days at a time to amuse himself in the sea with sailors. Ever since Jacaerys was born his trips had gotten shorter and longer to come and he busied himself with gathering more responsibilities as a future Lord.

Reaching for his hand was in both parts a way to assure him she saw him, and to show union to the people in the room. “Sometimes I forget we both changed.”

He snorted. “It is quite alright, but do try to do it less often.”

Her lips trembled as she tried not to laugh and she squeezed his hand. “I shall endeavor never to do it again.”

“Easy, I don’t believe I changed that much.”

Her laugh got a few stares, but it was alright. Everything was alright.

Laenor pulled her over to the main table and she stared in horrified amazement at the huge number of letters for a few moments before seeing Daemon ushering the children away from Viserys and him. The four of them went straight to Laena, who sent Daemon an unimpressed glare.

“Why can’t I help?” Baela frowned.

“Yes, why can’t we help?” Rhaena asked. “We can read!”

Laena let out a long sigh, leading Rhaenyra to guess those questions had already been asked one too many times.

Rhaenyra picked a few letters from the large pile and bumped her shoulder with Laena’s, gaining a quick smile from the other woman.

“The contents of these letters may not be well fitted to young ladies.” Laenor answered for his sister and Rhaenyra shared an amused glance with him.

“Then can I help?” Jace asked, causing the adults to laugh. The twins looked outraged while Lucerys struggled to climb into a seat beside Laenor.

“You do not yet know how to read.” Laenor said while he helped Lucerys sit beside him, caressing the boy’s hair a few times and paying no mind as Luke grabbed a letter.

“Yes, I do!” Jace disagreed, offended. “Well, a few words.” He added as an afterthought.

“Yes, and I am very proud of you.” Laenor nodded seriously, his eyes betraying his amusement. “But the contents of the letters are unfit to young lords and princes too.”

The twins giggled at that, and their laugh only got louder when Jace scowled at them.

“House Baratheon… Ours is the fury.” Lucerys said slowly, as he always did these days – always too worried over not pronouncing the words correctly. “Lord Boros says Jace has our g’andmother’s mother’s laugh. Is it true?”

“I believe so, sweet boy.” She answered distractedly while Laena explained what each pile meant. Then Lucerys’s sentences made sense and she turned to him with wide eyes, seeing a letter with the Baratheon sigil on his hands. “Luke-”

“And aren’t Jace and I to wait until we reach seven and ten to marry?” The boy continued, eyes darting to each side of the paper as if he were- as if he were reading. “Why does he want to marry us now-”

Laenor pulled the letter away from Luke’s grip, his hands trembling slightly and both Laena and she leaned over to read above his shoulders the content of the letter.

It was just as Lucerys had said. Lord Boros Baratheon made allusions to their family ties in common and tried to use it as emotional leverage to gain an arranged marriage.

“And it is with our hearts filled with joy that House Baratheon invites the Royal fam’ly to visit and stay in Sto’ms’ End for as long as they wish.” Her boy read, leaning over his father’s shoulders – the words leaving his mouth at a speed that she had never seen a child under 8 achieve. Laenor dropped the paper on the table and covered the lines of ink with an open hand, but it was too late; Otto Hightower and the Maesters around him were already staring, mouth agape.

For the second time that day, everyone but the family was obliged to leave the room.

“Did I do wrong?” Luke asked, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

Cleaning her worried expression away, Rhaenyra forced out a smile, rubbing her thumb against his cheek. “No, sweet boy. You read beautifully,”

Then she turned to Daemon. “Did you-”

“As much as I would love take credit for that, niece, no. I did not teach your son how to read.”

“Father?”

Viserys sighed. “It wasn’t me, Rhaenyra.”

After so long one would think she’d get habituated to Lucerys’ stunts, but he always managed to surprise her again. “How does he keep doing this?” Laenor rubbed a hand over his face tiredly.

“Why does Luke get to read but I don’t? I’m older.” Rhaena complained, causing the Baela and Jacaerys to make their dissatisfactions known as well, but Rhaenyra barely paid them any mind. If Lucerys kept doing these unexpected things – if he kept showing such a knowledge without being taught – soon there would be nothing she could do to protect him from the way people perceived him.

Not a decade ago, his life was as miserable as it could get; married to a woman who at best felt contempt towards him, strangled from the only family he had left. He'd only had brief moments of happiness back then, a happiness made of the few hours he could spare to fly on Caraxes.

Then he met Laena. She’d caught his eye on the very same night he thought he’d lost his last shot at having a fulfilled life – the night he thought he lost the one he wanted the most, Rhaenyra.

Laena wasn’t his niece, and she was no replacement. She carved a spot in his heart, rocking his entire world around and he knew then he had to have her, that he needed her.

And he was happy, for the first time in his life he was happy and the ache on his chest longing for someone he could never have turned numb, always there but forgotten by the laughs around him.

Then, during a feast given in her parents’ name nonetheless, Laena rocked his world again, painting his mind with scenes he never dared to imagine, her sinful words sounding as if they were spoken by one of their Valyrian gods.

He'd never thought Laena could feel the same way, or at least a fraction of desire he felt for Rhaenyra too, but his wife was a chest full of wonders. The first night they spent together had changed the way he saw world. He finally had Rhaenyra, could leave his mark on her body, make her his even if for only a few hours.

He'd wanted her for so long that when he had her in his arms, he didn’t quite know how to proceed. Didn't think he could go all the way, that he could do everything he wanted. Suddenly he was back into that night moons ago, leaving his niece, the Realm’s Delight, alone in a pleasure house.

As he kissed her, anxiety kept reminding him of Laena, making it impossible for him to let himself go. He never thought a woman would allow that, didn’t truly think Laena would let her husband, the father of her unborn children, have his way with another, but to his amazement Laena enjoyed watching and sometimes suggesting things.

Rhaenyra and he had been at each other like animals that night, couldn’t keep themselves from touching each other even if it was only to hold hands.

He didn’t account for Laenor, though, and he should have.

Daemon knew he didn’t care about sex, it mattered not to him, although he usually went for women. Laenor and he had their own bit of fun during the battle of Stepstone, on those endless nights no side made a move, when the adrenaline of the battle didn’t leave their bodies even long after the fight had ended.

He never thought of Laenor much, outside those nights. Daemon found him amusing, – had chuckled more than once when the other mocked the idiots around them, especially Vaemond, the insufferable cunt – and impressive in the way he found openings and planned tactics on how to change the tides in their favor.

As time passed, they got even closer and just as his older sister did, Laenor took a place inside his mind and heart.

Daemon didn’t usually care about people, made a point of trying not to. For long he only cared for Viserys, Rhaenyra and Aemma. Now the list of names was growing and with it his fear of losing one of them too, especially since now he had two beautiful miracles, then – twin girls he’d destroy the entire world to protect, that he would do anything he could to make them happy.

Everyday he spent away from Laenor and Rhaenyra, hours away at Pentos, was torture, and not only for him. He could see it in Laena’s eyes, the longing. Could feel it in the way Rhaena and Baela sometimes came up to him, telling him they saw something their brothers would also love to see.

At some point he started to think of Jacaerys and Lucerys as his too, both children reminding him so much of Rhaenyra and his dear late cousin, Aemma he had nothing but love to offer them. And he knew Rhaenyra and Laenor loved his girls as if they were their own. Daemon wanted nothing more than to make it true, to convince the three of them to mount on their dragons and find a Septon that would agree to marry them so they could stay together always, so he could protect them always.

He’d cut the heads of whoever dared to disagree.

But they couldn’t. Not when Alicent and Otto Hightower had their hands on Viserys’ shoulders, guiding his every move. Not when there were three boys on the line of the throne, boys that his niece started caring for and was now being kept from seeing.

They needed to wait, wait until Rhaenyra was sat on the Iron Throne and then, and only then, no one would ever dare to stop them. If they tried, he was only too happy to feed them to Caraxes.

Most days Daemon was satisfied with being himself. Some days it was difficult, and he wanted nothing more than to go back into battle again, to feel the blood of an enemy hit his face and let go of the rage that at times seemed to brew inside him.

Right now he was pretty happy to be himself, because he didn’t want to be in Laenor’s place when Rhaenys reached him. Rhaenyra would probably not suffer through most of the verbal onslaught, but his cousin would have no mercy for her son.

He'd crossed her on his way to bring his girls  to the dining room after their classes so they could lunch with Jacaerys and Lucerys. It was the day after Lucerys gave them the scare of their lives, thrice.

He could still remember the pain, the same he felt when he found out of his parents and Aemma’s death. It hurt even more to see Rhaenyra, Laenor and Laena in so much pain, to see them try to do the impossible and bring a dead child back to life.

But Lucerys came back, for whatever reason it may be, that hellish child came back, already making each one of them lose their heads. He didn’t know how they did it, but Rhaenyra and Laenor passed the strongest parts of their Targaryen genes onto the boy and now Lucerys was making them all pay for it.

Daemon had never seen a child so uncaring of someone else’s distress. There wasn’t a single person calm in that room and yet Lucerys still pushed them further.

Daemon had cut the tongue out of two Septons on the hallway outside the room for daring to say that the boy’s survival was unnatural, had cut another’s throat for indicating there was something inherently evil about the way Lucerys could hold a burning charcoal without any lasting consequences.

Viserys didn’t even get upset with him for that, although he supposed his brother would later complain about him dirtying their late mother’s favorite carpet.

“Cousin.” Rhaenys greeted, bending forwards to bring both Rhaena and Baela into a tight embrace. She looked over their little curly heads to stare at him, her gaze piercing. “Well? Where is he?”

“On the dining room.”

She grabbed each of his daughters by their hands and took them with her, both Baela and Rhaena forgetting about him in favor of their grandmother. He let them distance themselves for a bit since he did not want to be in the field of vision of a furious Rhaenys, watching as even the Knights pressed themselves against the walls to avoid catching his cousin’s attention, and was about to follow when Corlys rounded the corner, running at full speed.

Even after their battles together, Daemon had never seen the lord so disheveled and apprehensive before, his clothes wrinkled in an undignifying way.

He arched an eyebrow. “You came here by flying.”

“Yes.” Corlys answered breathlessly, even though both of them knew Daemon was not asking. Catching his judgmental gaze, the lord defended himself. “A Velaryon’s place is not in the skies.” The man complained, strengthening up as they began walking to the dining hall. “But the situation demanded for it.”

He wondered what in the fourteen flames Laenor wrote in that letter, but from what he heard from Rhaenys even from outside the room, it was too little information for such a scare telling.

“I told you he was now fine.”

“You do not know the meaning of ‘fine’, Laenor.” Rhaenys retorted. “You told me you were fine when you shipwrecked and barely managed to reach Dragonstone alive eight years ago!”

Daemon made sure to stick to the walls, watching the scene from afar. Corlys, on the other hand, went straight for his wife and took Lucerys away from her arms to inspect the boy.

Rhaenyra stood in front of Laenor, showing a remarkable courage. His niece was a brave woman for letting Laenor hide behind her in such way. Brave, but foolish. He’d never stand between Rhaenys and the object for her anger, had already made that mistake as a child and he could still remember the outcome.

Viserys, it seemed, did as well. His older brother kept pretending to stare at a spider web at the back of the room.

The room was dark, as the clouds were hiding the sun since early morning, but he could see Laena urging his daughters and Jacaerys to eat a couple grapes, sitting on a chair at the back of the room, safely away from the conversation that was currently happening.

Once more, he wondered just what Laenor wrote in that letter for Rhaenys to be so upset.

“He is fine, mother.” Laenor remarked, then he turned to Lucerys. “Tell her you’re fine, Luke.”

Daemon snorted.

“Do not bring the boy into this.” Rhaenys interrupted.

“I am fine, Mumuñna (grandmother).” At that Rhaenys’ angered face melted into a smile and she cooed at Lucerys before turning to stare at Laenor again, her face hardening.

“You are to tell me exactly what happened, Laenor, or I swear to you, grown man or not I shall-”

“We will explain everything, princess, of course.” Rhaenyra spoke, bringing everyone’s attention to her. Her chin went up as it always did when she wished to project confidence and he was distinctly reminded of the way she dared him to kill her so many years ago in Dragonstone. “But the children are hungry, and I believe so are you and Lord Velaryon.”

Rhaenys stared at her for a couple moments, silent. Then, as everyone let out a relieved breath, she took two steps away from Rhaenyra and Laenor and closer to Corlys. Luke immediately reached for a strand of her hair, putting it close to one of Corlys’ braids.

“Yes, I believe you are right, Princess.” Rhaenys conceded. “But I demand to know every small detail.”

“Of course, mother.” Laenor rushed out, now moving from behind Rhaenyra.

The oppressive aura circling around the room slowly dissipated, Rhaenys turning her attention back to her grandchildren, who all circled her and Corlys, asking them questions. He stared for a while, watching as Laena joined them and let both Jacaerys and Rhaena swing her arms back and forth. When she caught his eyes and winked at him, he turned his face away, a smile beginning to form.

“Father! Uncle says there is to be roasted pig!” Rhaena shouted, eyes wide in excitement as she sprinted away from Viserys and stopped in front of him. She was only this happy when they were together, always smiling and energetic. “Come, I want to eat!”

And what else was he to do but follow behind, as he always did, making sure he watched his family’s back and kept them safe.

Rhaenys had taken in the Incident quite well, considering her reaction from before, and Daemon believed it was because she could see Lucerys well and healthy in front of her, eating away his pie.

“And none of the Masters had anything to say?” She asked.

“They put it under the ‘Targaryen’s queer ways’.” Rhaenyra answered, cutting Rhaena’s meat into small cubes.

He himself had sent the servants away, not wanting any of them to hear their conversation. His brother’s wife did not even bother to show up, and once the cunt that Viserys named Hand saw him, Corlys and Rhaenys, the man decided it was best to lunch on his quarters.

His humor had never been so good.

“Open, please.” Jacaerys asked, extending a bottle of pickles in his direction. He wrinkled his nose in disgust but opened it regardless. Sitting on his other side, Baela gagged. Jace frowned suspiciously. “What was that?”

“Nothing.” She answered innocently and he bumped his legs against hers just to watch her smile.

Jacaerys stared at them for a few seconds, eyes falling into slits, before he shrugged and went back to his lunch. Baela giggled quietly, using her fork to push away her carrots.

“Hey, none of that.” He objected and pointed at the carrots with his knife. “This, this helps you see in the dark.”

“Truly?” She stared at him, amazed and Daemon never thought anyone other than Rhaenyra would ever look at him this way, but there he was. Surrounded by four children that kept looking at him for guidance.

“Truly.”

When he turned his attention back to the others, Lucerys had been moved from his place between Rhaenyra and Laena – always kept between two adults because the boy kept trying to suffocate himself with too much food in a single bite – to stay in Corlys lap, the lord eyeing the boy’s mouth for signs of damage.

“I wish for them to be checked by our Masters on Driftmark.” Rhaenys stated, looking over Rhaenyra and Laenor. “They may have some knowledge these ones lack. No offense intended, cousin.” She sent Viserys a quick look.

“None taken.”

“Well? What do you say, Princess?”

Rhaenyra looked at Laenor. The man nodded. “It wouldn’t hurt to try. We would all like some answers and it has been a year since the boys visited the High Tides.”

“Are we going to Driftmark?” Jace asked, propping a leg on the chair as he readied himself to get up. Daemon put his arm above the boy’s shoulders, pressing him down so he wouldn’t try to get up again.

He had already talked to the boy over the dangers of standing on furniture and had seen even a Knight take him down from a shelf once.

“Yes, and since we all wish to go, I believe it would be good for the children to travel by ship.” Corlys words caused a rush of noise from the children and a wave of dread over him, Rhaenyra and Rhaenys. “They all share Velaryon blood, after all.”

Well, he didn’t. He hated boats – could not stand them for more than twenty minutes without feeling seasick and frankly hoping for the death.

Laena brushed her foot against his, but although her eyes were supportive, there was an amused smile on her lips.

“Well, we must begin the preparations, then. I shall send a raven after this meal and ask my brother to send my ship.”

Daemon was not getting in that boat, regardless of what Corlys thought about it.