A Young Woman's Inevitable Dance with Dragons

Big thanks to @MARch_Of_Time for all their assistance with this chapter!!

Chapter 56

Few contests display as little restraint as war does; our opponent is just as committed as we are. It's important to keep a close eye on the enemy's moves. -From the Saga of Tanya the Evil Vol. 14



Daenora grinned as she felt her betrothed tighten his grip around her waist. Kermit Tully was a brave man to mount Silverwing, that courage fitting for someone who was to wed into the House of the Dragon. The impropriety of it was hardly an issue to her, for they were to be wed soon after all, and it was certain that Kermit had no carnal delights in his mind, as she could feel him quake behind her.

Over the roaring wind and Silverwing's triumphant shriek as she soared into the sky, Daenora asked, "Are you well, my lord?"

"A-Aye!" Kermit said bravely despite the quaver in his voice.

Daenora admitted to herself that she mayhaps had taken too great a delight in her betrothed's fear, but her brother had always told her there should be an undercurrent of fear when wed to a dragonrider. She was quite pleased when a raven had come from Essos, bearing word that her favorite brother would be returning to see her wed.

I hope he does not imitate Daemon and seek to duel my betrothed!

It was an idle thought, but one she would oppose him over if he made the attempt. Kermit was a good match. One day he would be the Paramount Lord of the Riverlands. His form was pleasing to the eye, and he was a bold knight. While he had yet to win a major tourney, the latest one in King's Landing had seen him unseat a member of the Kingsguard in an early round. Her grandfather had also stressed the importance of the match, for while Lord Grover Tully had fiercely supported a son over a daughter to sit the Iron Throne, others in his family leaned more toward Rhaenyra.

That likely included his heir, Elmo Tully, Kermit's father. However, by agreeing to the match, it seemed as if their loyalty might be swayed. Daenora was rather bored of all the court intrigue. She could only find passing amusement in such things, and her grandfather had always pushed for everything to flow through him as Hand and not to muddy the waters in any way without his explicit instruction. Daenora considered the old man a bit of a bore and preferred to wash her hands of it altogether.

She had Silverwing swoop low and heard a panicked cry from Kermit. Over the wind, she shouted again, "Fear not! Silverwing would never crash, she may be large but she is as agile as Sunfyre!"

Daenora loved her dragon above all else save her family. Silverwing was a part of her, and she delighted in going out flying with her. The dragon often looked to the east, and Daenora well understood the reason. Her brother and his dragon, Vermithor, lie that way.

Aemond returning was good for more than just her spirits. There were more Targaryens than there were dragons. Neither of her younger brothers had dragons, for Uthor's egg stubbornly remained unhatched. And of course, she hoped to prove fertile and raise strong sons and dragon-riding daughters herself! If Silverwing could lay another clutch, it would solve so many problems.

News that one of the few remaining wild dragons had been bonded to young Fraedrik had filled her heart with joy. Her sister Elaena's growing brood well deserved dragons. Daenora could not help but view Aemond as her favorite brother, and Elaena as her favorite sister. Helaena was sweet and kind, yet it was Elaena who had taught her to fly, and she would forever be grateful to her for that. She missed her, and feared that living in the Riverlands would make visits between them all the more rare.

I can time my visits to King's Landing to coincide with hers. Once a month for a day or two is better than none at all.

Silverwing flew higher, and she felt Kermit's grip tighten against her leathers. Smiling, she gave a joyful whoop and sent her dragon into a dive back down to the multi-hued earth below. The leaves on trees were now a delightful array of colors, and from the sky it looked particularly enchanting.

Upon landing, a very shaky Kermit dismounted and promptly recalled his breakfast onto the ground.

"My apologies, 'tis not a common occurrence for me,"

She let out a slight laugh. "Worry not, my lord; I should have warned you to break your fast after riding. I do appreciate you holding it in until we had landed."

"I hope it has not changed things betwixt us and our betrothal."

"Nay, my lord, we are still to be wed. Whether I will it or no, that would be the case; yet I do will it. Only what remains is to determine the timing. Jacaerys and Baela are to be wed soon, and there will be no dual royal wedding this time!"

Kermit gave an uncertain chuckle. That had been an event for the ages, but it had turned sour due to conflict.

"I'd imagine not."

Daenora grinned; it had been an interesting day all the same, even though her pious brother had received the worst of it.

"My father wishes to attend both, so we must not schedule them at the same time. Fret not, my lord, it shall be soon."

Kermit stood up straighter. "I await it with gladness, Princess Daenora. It will be a great honor, and I thank you again for the experience today."

She stepped closer, laying her hand lightly on his arm while her eyes sparkled mischievously.

"You took to the ride well, for your maiden flight. Though you shall surely find my experience as a rider teaching you much, after our wedding."

He looked confused and then his ears turned red in quite the adorable way. She gave a mischievous laugh at how flummoxed he looked. Daenora looked forward to teasing her betrothed quite oft until they were made one by the septon.

It was quite rare for Alicent's husband to be in an ill mood after Elaena had visited. She knew the source of his disappointment and knew not how to mend it. In truth, she missed her daughter of the heart quite strongly as well. But the girl was now a woman with babes of her own and had fashioned a home with her agile mind that was wrought of wonders.


Viserys being upset was his right, but the fact that he had not once expressed anything close to this manner of disappointment when it was their own children made her bitter. Daeron had been fostered for years when he was young. Uthor was now in Dorne and Viserys seemed to care not one whit.

Everything to Rhaenyra and Elaena and nothing to our own children save that which my father has had to arrange on their behalf.

At least Aegon was able to sit on the small council now, providing much-needed assistance so that her father alone did not need to carry the heavy load of their cause there. A servant advised her that the Hand had asked for her in his study, and Alicent made the trek over.

"How is the King's mood today?" her father asked.

"Still sour. Normally her visits put him in good cheer, but not so this time. I fear I will not be able to move him one way or another on any particular issue until he is less morose."

Her father nodded. "It is good that Elaena is distracted by womanly pursuits. A keen mind, but a soft heart. Had she been as resolute and stern as Princess Rhaenys, and exploited her father, our cause would almost certainly be dust."

Alicent sighed. The long argument was ever beneath the surface. She knew her daughter would never countenance going against the King's declared wishes for the succession, but that sprang from filial loyalty. If Viserys decreed it was to be Aegon, or even a non-Targaryen, the loyal Elaena would name it his mandate as King. Yet perhaps it was that very nature of hers that granted her such influence over him. Had she sought to bend Viserys toward undoing his own stated goals, she would never have stood so near his counsels in the first place.

Father still thinks she is Laenor and Daemon's puppet, carrying out tasks at their whims. It is not so, but he will never be convinced.

"As you say, what need do you have of me?"

"Two things. Attempt to dissuade him from choosing Alan Beesbury. Elaena supported that selection, try to get him to see not choosing her suggested choice as a fitting rebuke for her refusal to take on the post. Such a delicate conversation is best conducted through a whisper in a bed than in a council chamber."

Alicent kept the frown that wanted to form off her face.

"The second is that we should have the wedding celebrations for Daenora and Kermit in Riverrun as opposed to King's Landing."

"Why?"

"Few Blacks will attend one there, but if it is within King's Landing many would come for a tourney. Tell your husband that Daenora wishes to be seen by the people she will help rule one day, or whatever else you think will sway him. I will approach the angle of the cost and expenditure for another tourney after we have just had one. With our allies overwhelming any of the River Lords who support Rhaenyra at the wedding, it will help convince them to fall in line."

Alicent would do as he asked, but she also had her own request.

"I will be busy with those preparations then and will not attend Jacaerys and Baela's nuptials. I do not care to be near such a den of iniquity, nor do I wish my children to be there."

Otto put down his quill and looked at her.

"You are the Queen and Aegon is the true heir. Both of you should attend."

"I will not. There will be needless tension and animosity. I will not put him near that beast of a man, nor will I want to listen to Daemon's nattering veiled threats. That is Rhaenyra's place of power and I will not allow her to humiliate me and my children."

Otto was irked, but instead of exploding at her he waved it off.

"No matter, you have failed to keep your children from making fools of themselves in the past, this is probably for the best. Prince Aegon will attend. I trust him to comport himself properly. He's proven he can hold his tongue and he's a clever mind besides. The rest of my grandchildren can remain in King's Landing or join you in Riverrun for the preparations."

"Helaena will most like wish to stay in King's Landing with her own children. Daeron will return for the wedding, but seems well pleased by the Arbor. Who knows what Aemond will do, or if he will even return."

He raised an eyebrow.

"Your daughter said he was returning for her wedding."

Alicent tried to recall if Daenora had mentioned it to her or not, sometimes she was forgetful about these things as the girl would speak endlessly at times.

"Well, I will try to control him as best I can then, but I fear he has lost all sense. Refusing knighthood, affronting the allies we need, blaspheming against the Seven, and then running off to Essos? Truly, he wars with Daemon as to who should most fit the title of Rogue Prince."

Her father's rare chuckle surprised Alicent.

"That comparison was called to my attention most recently. Let us hope Daemon can be dealt with before the succession is upon us."

Alicent frowned. "Will you not tell me what you have planned? I can count dragons, same as the realm? What hope is there?"

"You are ill-suited for these games of intrigue, but I will remind you that more than one army of greater size has been routed by surprise. Where once enough lords might have supported us to render the risk of war foregone, now I plan for all the greater harshness the odds entail. When we strike, it will be swiftly and a dragon without its rider is susceptible, as they are beasts with animal cunning, but not true intelligence."

I am not so sure.

The dragons had always frightened her to some degree. They were smarter than any dog or horse and the bond between Targaryen and dragon was unnatural.

"You mean… to slay the dragons when the succession is upon us? Or before?"

Alicent didn't know how to feel about this news.

"Rest assured, my daughter, my plans will work. They require some fortune to favor us, but less than what you might think. I fear I have said too much already, you must ensure your tongue is fully guarded. Speak of this to no one, not even your sons or any of our close allies. A lack of surprise will undo us."

She bowed her head in agreement. It would be her children who would carry this war on their backs, and she feared it. Aegon, Aemond, and Daeron were stout warriors all. But gentle Helaena and wild Daenora? Did her father plan to use her darling daughters in such a way as well?

Seven protect our house.

In the weeks that followed Baela's arrival, Rhaenyra found herself filled with joy. It was a delight to converse and gossip with her niece. In so many ways, she viewed Baela as a little sister and was enjoying planning the wedding with her in a way she had never truly been able to do with Elaena.


No, I mustn't think of her now. 'Tis a time for joy.

Everything had to be set to perfection for the marriage between her son and Baela. She was to be the future Queen of the Seven Kingdoms one day, after all. The decision to have them wed in Dragonstone as opposed to King's Landing was part political and part practical. With so many matches occurring, and the memories of the dual wedding still causing ill humor, it was for the best to have it here. It would also mean she could better control events as the host instead of a guest.

Harwin would see to making sure everything was secure. He was pleased to see his son wed. He had spent more time with him of late when his duties allowed, and it was good to see that Jace loved both Harwin and Laenor as parental figures.

"Rhaenyra, are you sure that is the proper styling of my hair? I fear it will hinder easy movement during the feasting."

Rhaenyra nodded. "Baela, we can do something simpler, but why? This is your only wedding, so why not make it memorable for all who attend? The many pins to hold it so high may distract you some on the dance floor, but I promise you that people will remember it."

Baela looked unsure, but then gave her a smile. "It is to be a grand affair, so even my hair should be grand, is that the right of it?"

"Indeed!" They both giggled, and Rhaenyra felt her heart more at ease than it had been for some time.

Daemon, for half a decade now, was still upset that he could not have his little war in Essos. The last time they had met she had snapped, and nothing prevented him from flying over and setting fire to some horse lords as Aemond was doing. He had not taken the comparison well, and he had shut out both her and his wife from their nightly pursuits and instead spent time with his whore from Lys.

Her heart had ached for Laena, who had been caught betwixt them.

Daemon has Tyrosh and the Stepstones, more than he could have hoped to inherit after he was removed from the line of succession. I have even allowed our son to be his heir even though it sets tongues wagging afresh. Will nothing ever appease his appetite?!

Dinner that night was a lively affair. Aenar jested with Baela and his dry wit caused her to lose her courtly composure. Rhaenyra was glad to see her so gay. She had enjoyed herself on Dragonstone and soon it would be time for the wedding. There was no trepidation in her manner, she was eager for the match.

Joffrey joined in the merrymaking and Rhaenyra felt another swell of contentment. It took a few moments for Baela to recompose herself and then she looked across to Rhaenyra.

"Oh, there is some good news. My grandmother will be attending the wedding after all; I received a letter from her earlier."

Rhaenyra smiled openly. "Has Daemon ceased worrying about Essos, finally?"

Daemon had regularly stated that there must always be a dragonrider on Tyrosh to prevent Essos from attempting to dislodge him.

"No, my father worries still, but he has grudgingly accepted your sister to watch over the island."

Jace frowned. "Aunt Elaena isn't coming to the wedding?"

Rhaenyra frowned. This was just like her.

"Most like," Laenor said in a light tone, "she wished to allow Rhaenys the opportunity and there was no one else. Your grandmother has missed many family events due to her service on the small council. It is right that she see her grandchildren be wed."

Rhaenyra took a large swallow from her cup.

"You would think that, but then, you have ever viewed her most fondly," Rhaenyra said.

Laenor stiffened. "What other reason would there be?"

"She obviously fears my displeasure at her taking a dragon from the island without so much as a by-your-leave. Does she think I would deny her son the legacy of our house?"

Laenor just looked at her. "She was denied an egg by you explicitly." He held up his hands. "I'll not quarrel with you over something that has already been done, but she was denied a dragon egg and then her half-sister bestowed Dreamfyre's eggs upon other kin. There is a saying from Essos, I believe, that goes 'one time is happenstance, twice is coincidence, and three times is a pattern.' Perhaps she did not wish to see her son being denied become a pattern among her kin. Wild dragons are by definition unclaimed, and thus a potential rider might see denial only in the face of that dragon's nature."

Rhaenyra scowled and Luke agreed with his father.

"Mother, your Grey Ghost was almost impossible to spot. Aenar and I once flew around trying to find where he nests and Arrax could never find it. To claim him was to best long odds."

"That is not at issue, what is at issue is her refusal to make that case before me. I am her elder and the heir to the Iron Throne. It would have been proper, and now she makes excuses not to attend and packages it as benevolence!"

"Mayhaps," Harwin rumbled, "but 'tis good for Rhaenys to attend, regardless of the reason. She will gaze upon this blessed union with joy in her eyes and 'twill be well-deserved for all hardships she's faced in the service of your cause, Princess Rhaenyra."

She exhaled and nodded. "As always, my loyal knight, you cut right to the heart of the matter." Rhaenyra raised her cup, "To Rhaenys! We will be glad to have her and the Red Queen attend this union, the union of two branches in the ever-growing House of the Dragon!"

Conversation moved on as the night waned, and on the morrow her son Jace found her in a private moment.

"Mother, it bodes ill that there is tension between you and your sister. She is well loved by all here and I speak for all your children that we would wish you were on better terms."

"Come here, sweetling," she patted at the chair next to her.

"Understand that I love Elaena. Even as she pricks me. It is what has me so upset. I have extended a hand of continued friendship time and again. Do I not open my home to her visits? Though I suspect her fears will keep her away for some time."

Jace nodded. "You do. It is just that… of late you have spoken ill of her more often. It makes father uncomfortable, you know he credits her and the Dragon Bank with even allowing for a victory in the Stepstones. Lord Corlys agrees as well."

Rhaenyra just shook her head. "Laenor and Lord Corlys are quite diplomatic and they dote on clever little Elaena, but it was my husband's prowess that won the day, not a reduced repayment for debts."

Jace looked as if he wished to argue the point, but then thought better of it.

"Regardless, I do hope you continue to extend your hand. Elaena has always been good to us. I'm not half the flyer I would be if she had not shown me all those tricks. And Cyvasse is quite the diversion, even if I fear I'll never catch up to some others who play. We just want the family to be on good terms."

"Oh, my sweet boy," she rubbed his back with her hand, "already you act kingly. But fret not, families sometimes argue. How many times did Viserys exile his brother? And yet they still love and respect each other. Know that my patience is quite long, even as she tries it. Once she has seen her error and begged my forgiveness she will of course have it!"

Jace looked worried still, and she wished he would relax a bit more. It was likely the jitters a man gets before a wedding that had him out of sorts. Once it was done and the joys of bedding Baela began, he would be more at ease. She kissed his forehead and dismissed him so that she could go spend more time with Harwin.

The wind was fierce, but that made it all the better in Aenar's mind. Tyraxes soared through the clouds with agile ease. He could tell his dragon enjoyed their flights together, and he oft took to the skies, assuming there was time. His days were busy with lessons from the Maester, arms training with Ser Harwin, and of course feasting. He took pride in his appearance, and it was arduous to get himself properly attired and bathed between lessons and feasts. Flying at night was something Rhaenyra did not wish for them to do often due to increased risks, and dragons were not so silent in their flights.


To give truth to that thought, Tyraxes let out a roar, and Aenar felt as if he wished to issue a cry from his own lips as well. His mount spewed purple flames into the sky in a riot of intense color. With a laugh, he called it a day and directed Tyraxes to lazily circle back down in the morning light. He could afford to go to arms training with dragon scent upon him, and since he intended to wash up after time in the yard anyway, he found the early morning the best time to ride.

Aenar was told he was an apt pupil, but having his older brothers and Braxton Strong prove to be his betters meant he did not oft look forward to it. He didn't begrudge them their skill and laughed off his defeats. It was most unlikely that he would ever be good enough for a tourney win, but what of it? Let those poor fellows who could not even fly a dragon have some glory. For surely riding the clouds was a greater feeling than any victory on the field.

Baela was there to watch and cheer them on. She enjoyed seeing them fight and often had a saucy jeer for a clumsy stroke or fall. Aenar thought it trod the line between mockery and a bit of feminine spice in the yard, but Jace seemed aggrieved.

"Nervous over the wedding?" he asked his eldest brother.

"She is still so young. I know she will outgrow some of her childishness, but I wonder if she has the bearing a Queen ought to have."

"Baela is ten-and-four and will mature. Our grandfather is still hale, as is our mother. She'll have several decades unless the Gods prove needlessly cruel."

Jace smiled at him. "Oh, says the wise old man of ten-and-five!"

Aenar returned the grin and picked up the practice blade. They danced in the sparring yard beneath the brooding stone draconic figures along the curtain wall as Ser Harwin called out mistakes in footwork. That part he did well. It was the striking that he found difficult. His brothers made it look easy to will their blades where they wished with speed and precision. Soon enough he was in the dust.

"'Tis a dull affair, my love!" Baela shouted. "At least fight Luke so you'll have a proper challenge."

Jace looked annoyed and about to say something, but Aenar kicked him lightly.

"She's to be your wife. Don't make a fuss on my account. Plus, Luke looks eager."

Jace nodded with a flash of gratitude and went over to Luke. Aenar looked over to Braxton and began another spar, one he also lost, but Harwin had praised his defense this time. He knew Harwin was his father, even before they had told him, just by dint of how alike they looked. He thought of his mother's sworn shield fondly, but he could never not see Laenor as his true father, the man who had taught him how to speak, how to conduct himself in court, and to comport himself with honor and dignity.

After sparring, he bathed and prepared for lessons with the Maester. The keeping of ledgers and accounts while a lord of a demesne was an important skill. While it was easy to have others do it, that is how fraud could occur. The reforms made many years ago deterred it, but he was always taught that once he ruled a holdfast or town, it would ultimately be his duty to see that it all was in good order.

A review of the major and minor houses of the Reach was next, and then finally time for one of the enchanting feasts he so enjoyed. The food was always a joy. Aenar took pains not to overindulge, only taking bites from the dozen or so confections that would be prepared each eve. Honeyed pastries filled with cream, all spiced in different ways. Candied fruits and tarts with multihued sugars sprinkled over them. Lemon cakes and puddings of every flavor. He had dined in King's Landing, in Driftmark, even in Tyrosh, but none could compare to what was artfully created on Dragonstone. Every succulent dish imaginable.

Aside from the feasting, he enjoyed the dance floor. Baela would dance with all of them, and she enjoyed the dances that held faster rhythms. In between bouts on the dance floor, the lords who had begun to arrive were a delightful assortment of leal lords. Many a toast to the beauty of Rhaenyra and Baela were made, and more than a few mirthful tales.

"Prince Aenar, my daughter tells me you are quite the dancer," Lord Simon Staunton told him with a smile.

"Has she now? She is too kind."

The girl was younger than him by a few years, and she had smiled shyly at him the entire time.

"Care to visit Rook's Rest after the wedding? We would be honored to host a member of the royal family."

He bowed his head lightly. "I would, of course, be honored; however, it is my mother and father who make those sorts of decisions, my lord."

Really now, Lord Staunton. Just how wrapped around the finger does your daughter have you?

"Yes, yes, but perhaps you might indicate that you'd like to visit before I bring forth the subject?"

He supposed he could acquiesce. Most likely his parents would deny the match Staunton was looking for, but it did not hurt to have lords remember a kindness given.

"It would only be the truth, so I will do so immediately upon the morrow," Aenar promised to a grateful father.

The rest of the evening continued to be pleasing, and he went to bed eager for the upcoming wedding, a chance to celebrate and for the realm to behold their future King and Queen united in front of Gods and men. Such events only occurred a bare handful of times in a decade, and he didn't want to miss a thing.

Drummok was the captain of an old whaler converted to a trading ship. There was far more coin to be made these days in trade and he would soon be wealthy enough to grow fat off his profits. After he arrived at Braavos he would set his sights on White Harbor. In times past, many would skip that port and make straight for Pentos and then Myr. Perhaps they would go to King's Landing, but the trade within Essos itself was oft more profitable.


That was no longer so. White Harbor had coin to spend and from Braavos his vessel would carry him to White Harbor, then to Gulltown, and even bypass Pentos altogether to reach Myr with greater haste. Myr would take him to King's Landing to unload bulky Scorpions, and then he would carry other goods back to White Harbor. A tidy profit and little fear of pirates in these days.

There are other dangers. Storms seemed to be gathering more swiftly from the North these days.

From his vantage over the deck, Drummok caught one of his crewmen slumped over. He had the look of a new hand, so the captain asked his first mate about him.

"Oh? He's a good lad, but his mum, Maryth, took a chill. Not wealthy folk, so in order to get coin he signed up for advanced pay to get her care."

With so many ships and increased trade, finding hands was difficult and one of the ways they recruited was providing the pay in advance of a journey instead of prior.

"Well, see to it that he looks livelier, I've not patience for the luskish."

"Aye, captain."

He watched the interaction and the new lad's nod. The young man livened up, but he would keep an eye out. Over the next several hours he watched as the new crew member worked hard at the tasks of keeping a ship afloat during rough seas. He approached to lend a kind word when he noticed the burgeoning reddish hue of his features.

"You look as if you've been out in the sun too long, yet there's been scant of it."

"I don't know, captain, I just feel warm, is all."

Warm this far in the north? I have an ill feeling about this…

Not two days later, the lad collapsed in a shivering mess.


Author's Note:

I've been out of work since January and thankfully I am in no immediate distress as I did get a severance. Several people have encouraged me to try writing fulltime and while I think it is a bit of a moon shoot, but hey, nothing ventured, nothing gained, right? I'll be plugging my Patreon more often I've published over a 100k words in Feb , mostly BattleTech but also chapters for both ASOIAF stories, and that sort of sustained writing is not really possible with a full time job and other life responsibilities, but while I'm out of work, I've enjoyed doing this. If I do get enough support it would be incredible to actually keep doing this fulltime. We'll see, I'm keeping my expectations firmly in check here.

https://www.patreon.com/cw/failninjaninja

Thank you to the MVPs who have already donated - I had not expected that and honestly it is an amazing feeling. Thank you! I currently have voting for what my next project will be and that project will have early access chapters up on Patreon before posting them to here and AOE.

A HUGE thank you to @MARch_Of_Time for their help with proofreading and greatly enhancing the chapter. The drums of the Dance begin to quicken...

Chapter 57

"I can't believe we're going about setting up government agencies and ruling so haphazardly… I'm so torn whether to celebrate our excellent coping skills or lament our lack of principles." -From the Saga of Tanya the Evil Vol. 6



Viserys had become used to flying as a passenger on a dragon. Not all dragons and riders had the skill to allow such a thing, but his cousin had always had a strong bond with the Red Queen. Meleys had been taught, or did so instinctively, to shield her riders from the full press of the wind as she soared. After he landed upon Dragonstone, his daughter and good-son were there to greet him, along with their children, Jace, Luke, Aenar, and Corwyn.

"Ah, my precious daughter, now you too get to feel the joy of seeing your firstborn wed."

Rhaenyra returned his hug, and Viserys was glad that past grievances between the two of them had been buried. He was proud of his daughter. The time in the Vale had done her well. The Arryns, both branches, had done well.

As always, Laenor looked courtly, bearing the smell of perfume and rosewater as opposed to blood and brimstone. At times, one could scarcely believe the man capable of the horrors he had wrought. Marrying his daughter to the Sea Snake's son had been among his decisions that were the wisest.

"You look well, Your Grace," Ser Laenor said with a cheerful smile. The man was seeing his eldest son wed; he had every right to look happy.

Viserys turned to Jace who was a strapping young lad. The appearance and likeness of his cousin Rhaenys had shown through. The Baratheon black hair was a rarity among the Targaryen line, and it would be interesting to see which won out for Jace's own children.

Others presented themselves including Laena, her daughters, Aelyx, and Maegor. Daemon came strolling in after the children had gone on their way. He embraced his brother.

"You look well, brother," Daemon said simply. "The House of the Dragon grows ever stronger with this union. The bloodline of ours rejoined!"

"Indeed," Viserys agreed, feeling a swell of pride. "It is an auspicious day."

When the pleasantries had run their course, Rhaenyra took him gently by the arm and escorted him into the halls of Dragonstone proper.

"Has Elaena not arrived yet?" Viserys asked as they walked. "'Tis unlike her to not be early to these events, and the wedding is on the morrow."

Rhaenyra looked surprised. "Were you not informed? Elaena had other matters to attend to."

Laenor hurriedly cleared his throat. "Your Grace, your daughter was asked to ensure Tyrosh had a dragonrider present. The thought was that so long as the pirates and Essos believe a dragon is on the island, they dare not attempt anything."

Viserys felt his good mood begin to dissipate somewhat. He had looked forward to seeing Elaena again, and the idea of her being used as a weapon of war, no matter how unlikely an attack was on the island, felt decidedly off-putting. She was of such gentle disposition, the very idea seemed absurd.

But then, when has she ever shirked a duty? She faces her fears like those of the birthing bed with remarkable aplomb. Even if she could barely get the words out from fright, she would yet cry 'Dracarys,' all the same.

"That was kind of her, but I could have asked Daeron to do so. He is not planning to attend."

Laenor leaned in curiously. "Are your other children attending?"

"Only Aegon and Helaena. The rest are off at Riverrun preparing Daenora's own wedding, of which in turn I must ask: will you be attending?"

Rhaenyra smiled. "I would not wish to make them feel awkward by attending Daenora's wedding when she could not attend my son's."

Daemon chortled, and Viserys just patted his daughter's hand. It was best just to assume she was earnest in her statement. He had no desire to create any discord or strife at this wedding. It was an auspicious occasion. His heir's heir would be wed and would hopefully soon have his own heir. A line that strong could surely not falter. It gave Viserys a sense of peace to know that the Seven Kingdoms would have many generations of peace and prosperity.

I was fortune in many ways, but I must take some credit for my good stewardship. A different King would have sought to conquer Dorne or expand further into Essos and bring bloody ruin to the great prosperity that has been wrought under my rulership.

The wedding itself was a fine affair, the many courses a rare indulgence for him. Rhaenyra and her stewards had done fine work. Dragonstone boasted a table that rivaled his own. Course after course arrived, from succulent roasted meats and honeyed fruits to all manner of sea creatures, and of course sweet delicacies. He knew Elaena would have thoroughly enjoyed those desserts.

Baela was radiant in her dress, the picture of springtime youth. Her form had not yet matured into full bloom, but if her mother was any indication, Jacaerys would be a fortunate man. The septon was not so long-winded, and the oaths made to each other and the swapping of cloaks were done promptly.

"Now, make merry and revel! This is a royal command!" Rhaenyra said as she raised her glass and invited the musicians to play and fire-eaters to begin their performance. Mummers and more drew the eye in half a dozen directions.

Viserys enjoyed the dancing. He missed Alicent in that moment, but it was for the best that she was not there. He stole a dance from the bride, one from his daughter, his cousin Rhaenys, and then a final one with Laena. He knew there were times in the past when this would have winded him, but his regular morning walks for a full bell had left him with the stamina of a man half his age.

The thought of those calm mornings and respites of easy conversation over the decades dimmed his smile once more, for it pressed upon him deeply in the moment that the youthful days with his beloved Elaena, when she had suggested the practice out of care for him, had quite long since passed. But it stirred his heart once more to think that those days might be mirrored in the lives of his children's children, and their own children.

The bedding was a spectacle, one he had thought would not have occurred, but Rhaenyra seemed to be entertained by the notion, as was Laena. He would spend the night as a guest and on the morrow return to the duties he had as King. For Viserys, this had been a wonderful event, time passing without ought going ill. He hoped Daenora and Kermit would likewise be just as easy and sweet.

And Elaena had best be attending!

The wedding had been joyous for Laena, but not all were as content as she.


"Rhaenyra is yet unmoved," Daemon complained impatiently to his wife. His tone held no shortage of annoyance and pointed displeasure.

Laena sighed long and tired, feeling the urge to rub at her brow. She had spun some schemes, but nothing had taken hold. Rhaenyra remained stubborn, and though she was cordial and even more pleasant of late, nothing had changed in that regard. Laena supposed she could have pushed her daughter harder, but it was her daughter's wedding, not something she wished to spoil due to schemes and machinations.

"My love, I understand your impatience, but Viserys will not change his stance. Viserys the Prosperous is a mighty fine title, but your brother wishes for Viserys the Peaceful to be his epitaph. You are the man who expanded the Seven Kingdoms, made the Stepstones and Tyrosh a paramount lordship. Your daughter will be Queen, and your grandchild will one day rule over a prosperous and powerful Seven Kingdoms. You are the Rogue Prince–"

"Oh, do be silent," Daemon interrupted. "Your flatteries are amusing but they grow tiresome in their repetition. There is more to do, and I grow restless. The games and joys of the bedchambers are fine things, but I was meant for more."

Laena looked at her husband angrily, and then crossed her arms. She was done with this. His own repetition and ill-humors grew tiresome to her as well.

"Fine, then. Do as you will. What will that be, Daemon? Will you defy your brother? Will you challenge his rule? What is it that you think you can do?"

She was upset and he had tried her patience once too often.

"What did you say?" His voice was low and filled with outrage.

"What is it that you think you can do? You ask me to sway Rhaenyra, but to what end? Do you think the King will not hesitate to strip her of the heirship, or will he content himself with just exiling her again? Your will is thwarted, and unless you wish to do something as utterly foolish as trying to press your own claim to the crown, you will do nothing. No wars, no conquests, all you can do is voice your dissatisfaction, to and at me who has ever aided you, and it grows tiresome. I cannot fix a situation that has no answer."

Her husband's violet eyes narrowed dangerously. Daemon stepped forward, crowding her, but Laena stood straight and resolute. She refused to allow him to cow her.

"Do it. Lay hand upon me Daemon and see the consequence."

Why am I doing this? I risk everything, even if my family protects me and Vhagar is deadlier than Caraxes.

Her husband did not strike her, instead, he kissed her. He had closed the distance in one swift motion, his lips still carried the taste of the wine he had most recently imbibed.

"I had wondered where your fire had gone. No, I would not strike the mother of our future Queen. You should know me better than that, my love. My anger is at Rhaenyra and my foolish brother. It is detestable, but you are right. The King will not be moved, and I will not be able to wage the war I desire. I will bide my time a little further, but let there be no discord between us. Come, it has been too long since we have slept together without the company of others."

Seven Hells, you damnable prick. Now you will pretend your attempts at intimidation were all to draw out the dragon within. I can see through your mummery. And yet… I still wish to lay with you.

Her heart had ever been willful. The freedom that had been promised to her had been invigorating, but now her marriage and her affection for Daemon felt more like a cage. One that she couldn't will away, for despite his myriad flaws, she could not cease desiring or being desired by him. As she returned his passions and they made ready for their lovemaking, she wondered if others felt the same as her at times. A dissatisfaction that promised no resolution as the years lengthened.

She resolved to enjoy the moment and not overthink things. Why ruin the now for concern over the future? But when the now became the past, she would then think long on what she desired in life. Was it riding the untamed dragon that was Daemon? Or perhaps it was time to let him slake his desire on his new plaything while she took her son and spent time with her parents on Driftmark.

Something to consider, but not now.

Hamish was pleased to see Elaena again. She didn't visit Tyrosh frequently due to Daemon's hatred of her, despite maintaining correspondence with the rest of her kin and interests upon the isle. Daemon's irrational frustration with his niece was something hard for Hamish to understand. Few realized just how much the Realm's Blessing had truly blessed the realm, but Daemon should have known better than most.


Was it not clear that Elaena's efforts had facilitated and stabilized Tyrosh's integration into the realm? That her suggestions had substantially reduced the threat of assassins?

No matter, high birth does not mean one cannot be a fool. His foolishness makes his successes all the more ironic for how much they too came to serve Elaena's ends, and my own fortunes.

As they played the Cyvasse game, they began speaking of things that were going on in Tyrosh and the broader Seven Kingdoms. News of Tyrosh was tame, despite the general misgivings the people had for their ruler, and talk soon drifted further north.

"It is honestly a pity, the first winter where the old men of the North do not have to go out and allow themselves to die on a 'hunt' and my efforts may not even have been needed given the Stark ranging well north of the Wall."

Hamish chuckled. "And yet if you had not made those preparations, he would have sat in Winterfell, no doubt."

Elaena eyed him. "The buttered side of bread does not always land face down, Hamish. Life has enough ironies that we do not need to add to them."

"As you say," he said with a grin, and moved his Rabble on the board.

His Cyvasse opponent smiled with amusement and immediately moved one of her Elephants. Hamish leaned onto the table and looked closely at the pieces. After long moments he stretched a bit and asked, "Will you be attending Daenora and Kermit's wedding? With you overseeing Tyrosh while Baela and Jacaerys are wed, it might make sense to miss both weddings instead of just one."

"I only missed Jace's wedding due to watching over this island. I fully intend to see Daenora wed. She'll be living right next door, so to speak."

Hamish finally moved his piece and cocked his head. "The amount of trade flowing through Silvervale is impressive. The Riverlands are growing wealthy from it as well. It is a marvel how you managed not to spike the cost of things with how much more everyone has."

"It requires a balance. More gold has flooded in from Essos, but there are more things to spend gold on and it is easier to make necessary tools. Inflation has reared its head in some markets, but by and large, we've kept it contained and the average household has acquired more conveniences. Scarcity has decreased thanks to efficiencies in process and in technologies the clever craftsmen we fund have created."

He smirked. "Clever craftsmen? I wonder at that. More than one branch has attempted what you do, and yet you find so much more success with the inventors."

"I have a discerning eye, and I can tell if someone has a true belief or if they are just looking to make coin. Not all my loans have borne fruit."

Find then, keep your secrets.

Her statement was true, nonetheless. Sometimes an idea she championed just did not work out, but the ratio of those that succeeded compared to those that failed was enviable. Hamish never failed to be impressed by the breadth of Elaena's knowledge. Her predictions on what sort of labor-saving devices had potential were really something.

Had Hamish been more like Daeron, he would say she was divinely inspired by the Smith. He half-suspected she had found some ancient working of kingdoms past that spoke of marvels and directed efforts to rediscover them. A part of him doubted she would be selfish enough not to share with the Seven Kingdoms, but it sometimes felt the only explanation, beyond divine intervention, that allowed her to be right so often.

The game continued to go poorly for him.

"You know that some will make it a point that you visited Riverrun during the wedding and not Dragonstone, despite the reason for it. Does the succession and the endless attempts of lords to influence each other truly not worry you?"

Elaena shook her head. "No, Daemon worries me more than that. The succession is clear and Viserys is unlikely to perish soon. He has the Kingsguard and is in exceptional health. Should he ever fall ill, I will gather the best minds in Westeros and leave no stone unturned to ensure he weathers it. Few kings have had as much popularity as my father," she gave a light nod and waved a hand with an idle gesture over the Cyvasse board, "Otto Hightower and the Greens could only hope to sway him if Rhaenyra does something foolish again. But what I suggested to the King so long ago has been further sealed by the marriage and Jace's further maturation. The young man has a good head on his shoulders. If my sister does something beyond forgiveness, she will be bypassed in favor of her son, and several key members of the Blacks will support it."

Hamish nodded along. That made sense, though her words doubtless concealed a depth of influence or preparations beyond what he would be made aware of. The intrigue of the capital was by necessity a ship that Elaena must steer.

"And the concern over Daemon?"

She sighed, and looked up at him briefly with her sapphire-colored eyes shifting in the light. "Because he's most like to start a conflict. A conflict we can win, but one that will cause loss of life and damage our prosperity. Vhagar, Caraxes, and Thraezarys could annihilate armies. Trying to force them to comply would invite dragons to dance to their deaths. I know not if Viserys would even order the dragonriders who are loyal to bring them down. He loves his brother, despite everything."

More moves were exchanged and Hamish realized that he had lost. The game had not been close, but it had been thrilling. The way Elaena played was different than Maegor. In some ways it seemed less mechanically sound, but it was far more invigorating. She told a story as she played, while Maegor exploited meager positional advantage into a resource one.

"You fear Viserys will not enforce his edicts if his brother refuses to obey."

"Correct, for when dragons fight, the lore of Old Valyria is clear. Most oft both riders die unless there is a sizeable difference between the dragons. The ability to bring down three rogue dragonriders is not in question. It is the cost of the heart that may prevent my father from acting. Fortunately, I believe Daemon is not yet ready to move." Elaena sipped from a spiced tea blend, leaning back as the game neared its inevitable conclusion. "Your efforts in the city to keep watch of his comings and goings have been helpful. The subversion and consolidation of the harbors and tolls through intermediaries under Dragon Bank control was particularly wise, given Daemon's lack of interest in proper governance. As well, bankrolling the street criers and preachers."

Those efforts Hamish could admit dedicating no small measure of his attention to. Many paths of wealth and power intersected with his activities, and most such interests had plenty of reason to seek favor with the Dragon Bank in Tyrosh. Those who feared Daemon and those who revered Targaryens, those who sought the Seven worshiped by their saviors and those who feared proselytization from the mainland.

Merchantmen, tollkeepers, guardsmen, factors, harbormasters, builders, shipwrights, hawkers, peddlers, craftsmen, holy men, freedmen, sellswords, paupers, healers, and on and on it went. Everyone had looser lips and deeper bows when speaking to the man who determined what businesses succeeded or failed, and whether the city would have enough food.

More even, with those who recognized Hamish himself as more than he appeared. Those who understood what the silver he wore truly meant. Most recently, it seemed that agents of those back home in the Vale were among the most interested in tracking Hamish's own moves, having perhaps caught on to threads of Elaena's influence spanning across Westeros.

Hamish felt his smile slant deeper into amusement. Elaena paid him honest compliments as if he had not learned a whole set of his more clever tricks from her when she accomplished much the same with the Dragon Bank in Lannisport. Perhaps to the Realm's Blessing, merely noticing the depths of her efforts merited acknowledgement. It was hard to disagree, when so much of the realm remained blind to her influence, both willfully or ignorantly. Hamish could scarcely imagine the full scope of her actions, despite years of knowing her.

Any competent merchant stayed abreast of winds and words, but since his early days in Gulltown, Hamish had grown far beyond merely keeping a thumb upon the pulse of the city. He had instilled himself and the Bank's operations at the heart of Tyrosh and aught it touched. And with Elaena's control of the Dragon Bank back at the capital, he was confident he could arrange just about anything she directed of him.

"I would not see the city marred with war, nor any other. Viserys the Prosperous has overseen a time of unprecedented plenty. I believe we even near the marvels of Old Valyria at this rate!"

Elaena smiled. "Yes, life has become much better. The smallfolk love him. Literacy is rising, and keen minds and able swords can rise high. I am most pleased with how everything has gone these last couple of decades."

Hamish could but shake his head at that. He and Elaena both were born just over a couple of decades ago, but to hear her speak of it, she might already have been running the small council. The thought of a tiny princess Elaena, not five name-days old, already plotting financial policy for the kingdoms filled him with hysterical sense of it being impossible, yet amusingly believable.

"Another game?" he inquired over his chuckling.

Elaena nodded, quietly amused in that manner she was when being politely sly. "Of course. I've not had chance to play as frequently as I'd like. My son has learned all the moves and is learning the strategies, but it is not much of a game yet. And after all, Viktoriya needs no rider to make herself seen by the little ears in the employ of Essos."

And just as she said, an almost eager roar echoed distantly from above the city.

"That is who you are to marry?" Aemond scoffed.


Daenora slapped him on the arm. "Behave, brother. I am to wed a Paramount House, one of the major powers in Westeros. Who else is fit for a Targaryen? Those were your own words."

"The ship has passed beyond the horizon, but Aegon wed Helaena, that was a proper match."

And in Aemond's mind, more's the pity for that fact. Daenora was a picture of Targaryen beauty. Her hair was cut shorter than was fashionable, but it gave her a bold look that he found thrilling. No blemish marred her features, and she stood a slight bit taller than her sisters. Her hair of platinum and violet eyes made her look even more Targaryen than those with purer blood.

"Grandfather would not have allowed it, he says we need the strength of the others houses to ensure our place."

He rides no dragon.

"If war is to come, the doings of those earthbound are of no concern." He put up a hand against her rejoinder. "No, allow me to finish. I myself have been wounded in battle, in the east. A dragonrider is not invulnerable, ill chance can let a stray bolt or arrow inflict harm, but in truth all must understand that in any conflict it is the dragons that will decide the outcomes."

As Aemond said those words, he could already envision those he would face in battle. The way Vermithor could be used to shield against another's flame. How to use the mass of the beast to his advantage. What safeguards he had against common forms of attack. Those moments would be among the most exhilarating of his life, and he could almost taste the smoke upon the air.

Daenora just shook her head. "As you say, the ship has passed beyond that horizon, so there is no use complaining over something unless you choose to change it. Elaena was always clear on that, and in this matter, you will not attempt to change it. Are we clear, Aemond?"

He bowed his head with a dramatic flair.

"I'd not do something so tawdry when your wedding is on the morrow. If I had meant to object, I'd have done away with Kermit long ago. Fret not, your betrothed is safe."

It is good to see you smile again, sister.

Most of the guests had arrived, but the true celebration was not until the morrow. The King and Hand and all the others had been there for a few days now. He made his way over to his grandfather's chambers.

"The prodigal son returns."

Aemond quirked an eyebrow. "I've sent chests full of gold to you, grandsire. I hope you've done more with it than purchase those Myrish contraptions."

Otto gave him a thin smile. "Those scorpions, individually, are unlikely to strike true, but given enough opportunities, it is not too much to expect that we will get lucky at least once. And no, I have not only spent coin on those devices. Other expenses have arisen, but rest assured, our numerical deficiency in dragonriders will be corrected when the time is ripe."

It isn't sporting, but even I would have difficulties facing multiple dragonriders at the same time.

"And I will do my part as well. I relish the arrival of that day."

Otto gave him a meaningful look. "You realize that is just another way of saying you long for your father's death."

Aemond gave a short bark of laughter. "I hold the man no great grudge, but he has never been affectionate with me, so I have no qualms in looking forward to his departure, given that it means my legend can truly begin to be writ. I will mourn for the way some of my siblings will mourn, but they are resilient."

His grandfather seemed about to say more, but then halted.

"I would urge you to stay within easier reach. Traveling to and fro in Essos makes it difficult to reach you; the coin has been welcome, but if we miss our window of opportunity… that would be unfortunate."

Aemond shrugged. "It has been too long since I've seen some of my family. The short time here for the wedding will not be sufficient. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a game to get to."

Otto grabbed his arm as he turned.

"Just remember, none of your siblings can know what we plan. Some would not understand."

"I am not a fool," Aemond said with a smirk, turning his head slowly to look askance. "I know my siblings better than you do, so do not presume to lecture me on caution."

Otto released him, and Aemond went to find Elaena for their Cyvasse game. The murder of dragons was something he knew she would not approve of, but with the odds so heavily stacked against Aegon's claim, there was little choice. Either way, he would give the scholars much to ponder when the dragons truly began to dance to the drums of war.

A thought lingered in his mind, though, from the ghost of touch where his grandsire had grabbed his arm.

His grip... was weak.

Viserys could not help but compare the two wedding celebrations. Riverrun was playing host and they seemed to have spared no expense for the celebrations. The ancient Tully seat had looked different in his memory before the extensive decorations had shaped the vision before him. Banners carrying the trout of House Tully were not equal in number to the black and red of House Targaryen. It made his heart swell with pride at how honored Riverrun was to have his child join their house.


Riverrun was crowded with people, partly due to a royal wedding, and partly due to the massive tournament that had been organized. No such tourney had occurred for Jace's wedding, and Dragonstone could never have hoped to accommodate so many people. As King, people always approached him, but after the first few dozen it had grown wearisome at the feast. Finally, he found time to just sit and talk with his daughter, Elaena. His Lord Commander had formed a cordon around the table and firmly rebuffed everyone who came near.

"Ah, I had hoped you would attend. I was most disappointed not to see you at your nephew's wedding."

Elaena's husband bowed his head deeply. "Forgive us, Your Grace, but more than a few of Prince Jacaerys and Lady Baela's closest kin had concerns for the security of Tyrosh, and those who might otherwise have kept a dragon flying over the island to deter any adventurism had so dearly wished to attend. How could we refuse when they requested it of us?"

"Yes, but," then he waved himself off, "no, never mind. 'Tis no longer important, I am just glad you are both here."

"I am glad as well. Father, these weddings seem to suit you, you look well."

Viserys felt a genuine smile form without any effort. "Few things are better than seeing your child or grandchildren wed. Our dynasty is more secure than ever and reminders such as this are good for the soul."

"Speaking of ensuring that continued security, I've heard troubling reports from White Harbor. A disease has taken root and, given the amount of trade White Harbor does, it may already be spreading. This is a joyous occasion, but there are some steps that we should consider. Steps that may bring short-term economic hardship, but are necessary if this is as bad as I fear it may be."

Viserys frowned. "I have not heard of any reports of this."

"It is somewhat fresh, but scores have already died. The disease strikes quickly and most who fall ill by it end up perishing. We need to put a halt to shipments from White Harbor for the time being, and hold vessels that arrive in quarantine for at least a week with confirmation that no one aboard is ill."

"That seems a bit extreme," Viserys replied.

"The week is already a compromise; I have no idea yet as to how long the delay period is before a victim begins to show illness. After this, I plan on visiting directly."

No, you will not!

"I forbid it. If such an illness is so dangerous, you will not go near it. Elaena, your knowledge has always been a boon, but there is no reason for you to put yourself at risk personally."

Kevan gave him a grateful nod, something loosening in his shoulders, but Elaena had the look of someone about to argue.

"The Maesters are the ones who should be learning more of this. Please, Elaena, I will consider your proposal to delay the disembarkation of the sailors for a time, but only if you do not try to investigate such a thing personally!"

Elaena looked at him with inscrutable eyes.

"I will delay going to White Harbor personally, but I will fly individuals who will investigate on my behalf. This is on the condition that we allow the quarantine of incoming sailors to ports across our eastern coast."

Viserys made a dismissive gesture with his hand. "I will speak of it to Otto this very night. Now, let us not let talk of disease and worry cloud the next several days. We have a wedding, dancing, several feasts, and a grand tourney to enjoy!"

Elaena proved biddable and no more talk of this 'Winter Fever' was held. He was free to sit back and enjoy all the festivities. The Tullys were proving to be affable hosts and many a toast was made to his health, the House of the Dragon, the bride, the groom, and the union between trout and dragon. The food was indulgent, if not quite as grand as the culinary artists of Dragonstone. Fish was one of the items he could eat with relish, provided it was prepared properly, and Elaena nodded approvingly as he skipped over venison and beef in favor of an abundance from the sea.

Ironic that these two weddings, separated by so many leagues, both had so many fish dishes.

Later, Viserys did indeed speak with Otto, who sounded unconvinced.

"Your Grace, holding over sailors coming from a long voyage, sometimes with goods that require timely arrival, is too much. Perhaps a personal inspection by the dockmasters to ensure no one is obviously ill instead."

"I've already agreed to it. If you have concerns, talk to Elaena, but unless she comes to me and says otherwise, the decision is final."

Otto looked discomfited. "Your Grace, I will do as you command, of course, but your daughter is not even on the small council. Why hold her counsel with such weight? She may be learned, but she is no Maester. I ask again, let me send ravens to the Citadel and delay…"

"No, my friend. I have already given my daughter my word. If you wish to convince me otherwise, save your breath and instead consult with Elaena."

I am not going to risk Elaena doing something foolish such as visiting a town rife with a deadly ailment. But all the same, I wish not for any to know that I was willing to upend the course of commerce for a time, just so that my precious daughter would heed my request and prioritize herself, instead of seeking ever dutifully to serve the realm…

Otto bowed his head and went to seek Elaena, and Viserys smiled to himself. His sweet daughter was not someone people wished to butt heads with. Even accomplished men with keen wits would prefer not to argue with her. He truly did wish she had relented and become the Master of Coin, but she had begged off, pleading that she was happy with her life in Silvervale. That being around Kevan and the children in their wonderful home away from the court was something that gave her genuine joy and contentment. When put that way, with all she had ever done to support him and the realm, how could he object?

As the night moved on, Viserys spoke with Kermit and concluded the lad would be good for Daenora. He seemed grounded, a bit overwhelmed, but had a good head on his shoulders. He spied Daeron there as well sharing some words with Daenora, his own betrothed looking quite fetching as she laughed with merriment at some jest.

It was a surprise to see Aemond again. He looked well, and at times he reminded the King of a younger Daemon. Viserys despaired over Aemond's future and wondered if he should have simply ordered him to marry. As King, and father, he had that right, but with no pressing need to secure an already formidable house, he felt he could let the young prince choose his own path.

Aemond chose not to wed 'beneath him,' but his arrogance was such that it meant he would never find anyone. A Targaryen alone in the world is a tragic thing, but Viserys wondered if Aemond even minded. His son prowled the festivities without apparent care or trouble creasing his features.

'Tis his life, and thanks to his siblings, I now have nine grandchildren. Even if he never sired an heir or took a proper wife, the Seven Kingdoms will remain as indomitable as ever.

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