Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

~***~

"Enough!"

The grand hall of High Tide was in a middle of a maelstrom. Akin to a volcanic eruption, rage and grief seemed to swallow every sound, every movement, every breath. 

Aegon stood amidst it all, though he may as well have been a ghost—detached, disoriented, watching the scene unfold as though through a looking glass. His arms crossed and a grimace etched into his face in the middle of the chaos. 

Never once he had been in a fight like this within a family. Even in his past life. 

The hall had become a battlefield, and the storm raging outside paled in comparison to the storm within. Aegon's gaze flickered from his mother—Queen Alicent in all her fury—to his father, King Viserys, whose voice boomed across the hall in a desperate attempt to restore order.

The king and queen were locked in battle, their fury palpable. Viserys loomed with his cane gripped tightly, his face flushed with anger, while his mother was a force of her own. The tension between them was electric, like a thunderstorm about to break.

Aemond sat nearby, silent but stiff, his face pale as a fresh bandage covered his ruined eye. Blood still seeped faintly through the linen, staining it a vivid red. Maegelle hovered over him, her hands steady as she adjusted the bandage, her expression a mix of worry and calmness.

Around him, the rest of Aegon’s siblings formed a protective circle.

To Aegon’s far left, Azula was pacing, her movements taut with fury, like a lioness ready to pounce. Her purple eyes flickered dangerously, her hands clenching and unclenching as though she were barely keeping herself from lunging. She loomed at Aemond’s side, her sharp gaze fixed on Lucerys with a venom that could match Vhagar’s fire.Viserra stood beside her,her hand gripping her sister’s arm tightly as though restraining her from lunging forward. There was a fire in her eyes too, though hers was tempered, controlled.

Near Maegelle was Helaena, looking at Aemond with worry but her demeanor betrayed none of her worrying aside from her face. She was holding the bowl of towels while Maester Mellos stitched up Aemond. Daeron held the milk of the poppy nearby in case Aemond asks to dampen the pain. 

Kaiden stood far from them, blending in the shadows while Xavion's expression remain dark. Aella is fidgeting with her necklace and Aryan let out a frustrated sigh at the sight of their parents fighting. 

Near the center of the chaos, Rhaenyra clutched her sons tightly to her, her arms wrapped protectively around Jacaerys and Lucerys. Both boys looked terrified, their wide eyes peeking out from behind their mother’s skirts. Daemon loomed behind them like a shadow, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword, his eyes cold and calculating as they darted from one person to the next.

Baela sat on the opposite side of the room, tears streaking her face as a maester worked on her bruised arm, while Rhaena clung to her, sobbing softly.

Rhaenys and Corlys stood like pillars between the king and queen, their arms outstretched as though trying to hold back the tide. Rhaenys’s expression was calm but strained, her voice steady but laced with urgency. Corlys’s gaze flickered from Viserys to Alicent and back again, his jaw tight as he tried to bring reason to the madness.

The room was a cacophony of noise—shouts of blame, cries of pain, the sharp clang of Viserys’s cane striking stone. The storm swirled faster and faster, and Aegon stood at its center, watching it all with a strange sense of detachment. His head buzzed, his vision blurred.

How did it come to this?

~***~

Hours earlier...

The skies above Driftmark were gray, heavy with the weight of grief. The air was thick with salt and sorrow as Vaemond Velaryon stood before the gathered crowd, his voice a solemn echo over the restless waves.

“House Velaryon’s blood runs deep,” he declared, his tone as sharp as the blade of a sword. “A legacy unbroken for centuries, forged in the currents of the sea and carried by the strength of our kin.” His gaze lingered on Rhaenyra’s sons, his lips tightening. “It is blood that binds us. True blood, pure and undiluted.”

His gaze shifted deliberately toward Rhaenyra, his words taking on a pointed edge. “But blood is not something that can be forged or faked. It is a truth that cannot be denied.”

Harwin Strong shifted uncomfortably at Rhaenyra’s side, his hand briefly brushing Lucerys’ shoulder in a gesture of reassurance. Jacaerys stood stoically next to him, but his eyes betrayed his tension, darting to his younger brother and the twin girls. Baela clung to her sister, her small hands clutching Rhaena’s tightly as their tears fell silently.Rhaena’s quiet sobs were muffled against Baela’s shoulder as the elder twin struggled to maintain composure.

Vaemond’s gaze lingered a moment longer before he continued, his tone laced with barely veiled contempt. “To stray from this truth is to invite ruin upon ourselves. To falter in our duty, to yield to base desires, is to risk everything that House Velaryon holds dear.”

Daemon laughs, the crowd murmured and then Laena Velaryon's casket was thrown into the depths of the sea. 

Jacaerys stepped forward, placing a hand on Baela’s shoulder. “We’re here for you,” he whispered softly, earning a grateful nod from Rhaena. Harwin bent slightly to their level, offering a warm smile meant to ease their pain, though his own discomfort at Vaemond’s pointed words was evident.

On the other side of the gathering,Aegon is standing among his siblings. He watched as Jacaerys took a step closer to the twins.

Aegon, Aella, and Aryan approached the twins with quiet condolences.Aella knelt beside Baela and Rhaena, offering a small, comforting touch on their shoulders while Kaiden handed Baela a small seashell he’d found earlier, an unspoken attempt to cheer her up. Azula remained a carefree demeanor and offered her own condolences. Maegelle stood protectively by Helaena, who looked visibly distressed, clutching her hands tightly. The rest of the siblings also gave their condolences. Aegon gave them both a nod of respect. “If you need anything, just ask,” he said, his tone uncharacteristically serious. 

Helaena lingered a little farther back, nervously clutching the edge of her gown, but with a small nudge from Maegelle, she offered a shy smile and a quiet condolence to the twins. Azula stood nearby, watching silently, her sharp eyes flicking toward Vaemond, her irritation barely contained.

Alicent, regal and composed, approached Daemon, her dark silk gown and black veil of Myrish lace swaying slightly in the breeze. “My sincerest condolences, Prince Daemon,” she said quietly.

Daemon looked at her briefly, his face unreadable. He gave a curt nod before turning back to the sea. Alicent did not press further, merely stepping away and making her way toward Rhaenyra. The two women exchanged brief pleasantries, Alicent’s words restrained but respectful.

The Queen and her children soon moved to Corlys and Rhaenys. Alicent inclined her head respectfully. “Lord Corlys, Princess Rhaenys,” she began. “No words can ease the pain of such a loss, but I grieve with you.”

Corlys accepted her words with a stiff nod, his grief held tightly behind his stoic demeanor. Rhaenys, however, studied Alicent closely, her own sorrow giving her a sharp edge.

Alicent then adds, “I cannot imagine the pain of losing a child in such a way.” Her voice wavered slightly, and her gaze drifted toward her own children. She paused, her breath catching as she saw Kaiden standing beside Lucerys. The boy was patting Lucerys’ head gently, his face thoughtful and kind.

Rhaenys followed Alicent’s gaze, her lips pressing into a thin line. “It is a pain I would not wish on any mother,” she said, her voice low and carrying the weight of her sorrow.

"But as Targaryens, we love dragons, but we are fools to believe we do not pay a price for that love. They are fire and blood, and they will always take what they want. Even our children.” she continued. 

Kaiden ruffled Lucerys’ hair with a gentle touch, murmuring something that made the boy offer a hesitant smile. Alicent's eyes lingered on the children as Corlys approaches Lucerys and her son Kaiden took the cue to leave. Corlys motioned Lucerys for a walk— a more private conversation perhaps. 

For a moment, the two women stood in shared understanding, their grief and fears mingling in the unspoken tension of the moment.

~***~

Aemond

Finally. 

After supper, Aemond waited for the whole castle to sleep for the night. It was the hour of the eel, and he is brimming wth excitement and thrill as he traversed quietly to go outside eof the keep and make his life long dream come true. 

To claim a dragon. 

It's his birthright after all. He is the child of two dragon riders after all, so in conclusion his blood is that of a pure dragonrider. 

While he goes where Vhagar stays, Aemond saw two figures in the distance, walking down on the beach. 

He squints, and realized it was Rhaenyra and Daemon. 

'There is no end in the crown princess's infidelity. '

He scoffs. As much as he wants to summon people to have them witness the crown princess's whorish ways Aemond has more important things to do. 

He grins as he rides towards the pit where Vhagar,the mighty war dragon rests. 

~***~

Rhaenyra 

The soft sound of waves lapping against the shore filled the silence between them as Daemon and Rhaenyra walked side by side down the moonlit beach. The air carried the briny tang of the sea, and the sand beneath their boots shifted with every step. Rhaenyra turned her head slightly, studying her uncle’s profile illuminated by the faint glow of the moon. His expression was unreadable, but the weight of their shared history hung between them like an unspoken question.

“You should return to King’s Landing,” she said at last, her voice gentle but firm.

Daemon chuckled lowly, a dry sound that betrayed his amusement. “I did return to King’s Landing.”

Rhaenyra raised a brow, an edge creeping into her tone. “You didn’t visit the Keep, Daemon. You let Laena present your daughters to the court and left without a word to me.”

He stopped walking, hands clasped behind his back as he stared out at the dark, restless sea. The corners of his mouth lifted in a faint smirk, though his eyes held no humor. “What need is there for me to return? You don’t need me. Otto the cunt is gone, isn’t he?”

"Yes. But I still need you. "

"You have a Strong knight by your side."

Rhaenyra sighed. "It's still different without you in court. Otto may be gone but still his supporters never rests. Harwin is a balm but he can't do much to help me with politics. "

Daemon raised his brow. "Isn't his father the Hand? Can't even whisper to sway him? That much of an oath bound fool?"

Rhaenyra glares at Daemon but without much heat. " I only have Alicent to consult, but she also disappears everyday that I don't see her much. "

She waited for Daemon's reaction. Her uncle only fell silent. 

Rhaenyra’s lips twitched upward, and she stepped closer to him. “You’ve changed, uncle,” she said, her voice soft with an undertone of amusement. “You used to caution me against trusting Alicent, and now you’re…”

“I still do,” Daemon interrupted, his tone sharp but not unkind. He turned to face her, his gaze hard and unyielding.

Rhaenyra paused, searching his face. Then, with a sigh, she said, “I heard about what happened in the Stepstones. Laenor told me everything.”

Daemon’s jaw tightened, and he looked away, his gaze fixed firmly on the horizon.

“How you trusted a Hightower,” she added, her words pointed but devoid of accusation.

“Gerald is different,” Daemon replied after a moment, his voice low. “He’s not like Otto or his ilk.”

“And Alicent is different too,” Rhaenyra countered. Her voice was steady, but there was a flicker of something—hope, perhaps—in her eyes. “You know that.”

Daemon scoffed, his expression darkening.

“You respect her,” Rhaenyra pressed, a knowing glint in her eye.

Daemon hesitated, his lips pressing into a thin line before he exhaled sharply. “I do,” he admitted begrudgingly. “But respect is not trust, and you’d do well to remember that.” His gaze bore into hers, filled with a quiet intensity. “Alicent holds too much power, Rhaenyra. Power that could cripple us if we ever become complacent. Her children are dragonriders. If she turns on us, we’d be on the losing side before the fight even begins.”

Rhaenyra looked away, her gaze distant as she considered his words. Her uncle is right. She can't always depend on Alicent. She should have her own power to wield as she pleases. 

She then changed the subject,as that matter would be considered later. “Rhaena’s egg hasn’t hatched,” she said softly, her voice almost drowned by the sound of the waves. She turned back to him, her expression resolute. “You should take her to claim Vhagar.”

Daemon’s lips curved into a faint smile, his usual cocky demeanor returning for a moment. “I’ll do just that,” he said.

Rhaenyra stepped closer, her voice dropping to a near whisper. “If you’re so worried about our strength, uncle, then perhaps you should help me make more dragonriders.”

Her words hung in the air between them, heavy with implication. The tension crackled like a storm waiting to break, their breaths mingling in the cool night air. Daemon’s smirk faltered, his eyes darkening as they searched hers.

“You always did know how to provoke me,” he murmured, his voice low and rough.

Rhaenyra tilted her head slightly, a hint of a challenge in her gaze. “I’ve learned from the best.”

Daemon’s restraint snapped like a frayed thread. He closed the distance between them in one swift motion, his hands cradling her face as their lips met in a fierce, hungry kiss. The world around them faded away, leaving only the heat of their passion and the sound of the waves crashing against the shore.

Rhaenyra responded with equal fervor, her hands tangling in his hair as she pressed closer to him. The kiss was a battle of wills, a clash of desires as much as it was a declaration of their shared need.

When they finally broke apart, their breaths came in ragged gasps. Daemon rested his forehead against hers, his voice a low rasp. “You’re playing a dangerous game, Rhaenyra.”

She smiled, her eyes gleaming with defiance. “You wouldn’t have it any other way.”

~***~

Aemond

The air was heavy with the musky scent of dragons, and the dim glow of torches cast long, flickering shadows along the cavernous walls of the pit.

Aemond stood at the entrance to Vhagar’s resting place, his heart pounding in his chest. The ancient she-dragon, massive and fearsome even in slumber, lay curled in the center of the pit. Her scales shimmered faintly in the torchlight, a testament to her age and might.  

He had rehearsed this moment in his mind countless times, but now, standing before the creature that had once belonged to Lady Laena Velaryon, doubt crept in. Yet, he squared his shoulders, steeling himself. He was a dragonrider in blood, if not yet in deed.  

Taking a deep breath, Aemond stepped forward, his boots crunching softly on the sand. Vhagar’s massive eye slid open, gleaming like molten gold in the darkness. She rumbled low, a sound that vibrated through the very ground, and her head shifted to regard him with ancient intelligence.  

“Dohaerās,” (Serve.) he whispered, his voice trembling slightly.  

For a tense moment, nothing happened. Then Vhagar snorted, a puff of warm air ruffling his hair, and slowly unfolded her wings. Aemond felt a rush of triumph.  

“I am your rider now,” he declared, louder this time.  

With a hesitant step, he approached her massive foreleg and began the climb. The rough texture of her scales bit into his palms, but he didn’t stop. When he finally reached the saddle perched between her shoulders, he hesitated, looking down at the sheer drop beneath him.  

“Soves!,”(Fly!) he commanded.  

Vhagar roared, the sound echoing like thunder as she spread her wings and launched into the night sky. The force of her ascent nearly unseated him, but Aemond held fast, exhilaration coursing through him as they soared above the cliffs. For the first time, he felt invincible.  

'So this is what it feels like! To become closer to skies!'

Now Aemond fully understand why smallfolk call Targaryens beings closer to gods than men themselves. 

When Vhagar finally descended back into the pit, Aemond dismounted with a newfound confidence. But his victory was short-lived.  

Standing in the shadows at the pit's edge were Jacaerys, Lucerys, Baela, and Rhaena. Their expressions ranged from shock to fury, and Rhaena stepped forward, her hands clenched into fists.  

“Vhagar is my mother’s dragon,” she said, her voice trembling with anger.  

Aemond met her glare without flinching. “Your mother’s dead. And Vhagar has a new rider now.”  

Rhaena’s eyes flashed. “She was mine to claim!”  

Aemond smirked coldly. “Then you should’ve claimed her. Maybe your cousins can find you a pig to ride. It would suit you.”  

Baela lunged at him with a cry of rage. Aemond sidestepped her easily, grabbing her wrist and twisting her arm behind her back. “You should learn your place,” he hissed, shoving her away.  

Jacaerys and Lucerys charged at him together. Aemond spun, delivering a sharp kick to Jacaerys’s chest that sent him sprawling. He ducked under Lucerys’s swing and retaliated with a punch to the boy’s stomach, knocking the wind out of him.  

“You’re pathetic,” Aemond sneered, grabbing Jacaerys by the collar and pinning him to the ground. They were no match for him, who was trained for years by their mother on the mountains at dawn. They're nothing but pathetic little flies for Aemond to swat off. 

Baela, recovering quickly, grabbed a brick from the ground and raised it high, without Aemond noticing. Too high on his power and confidence. 

Just as she was about to bring it down on Aemond, a figure appeared out of nowhere. Azula struck Baela with a precise kick, causing her to drop the brick and stumble back.  

“Baela!” Rhaena cried, but before she could reach her sister, Viserra emerged from the shadows, locking Rhaena in a headlock and dragging her back.  

Aemond was surprised that his sisters were here,but recovered and picked up the brick Baela had dropped and turned to Jacaerys, a cruel smile on his face. “Go on, call for your Strong father,” he taunted. “Shall I break your bones like his? It’s only fitting for the son of 'Breakbones'.” 

Lucerys on the side hearing that, his face turned pale with fear and anger, suddenly pulled out a dagger. Aemond sensed the movement too late. He leaned back to evade the blade, but it slashed across his face, a fiery pain erupting just below his eye.  

Aemond staggered, clutching his face as blood seeped through his fingers. The world around him blurred, the voices of the others muffled as if he were underwater.  

“Aemond!” Daeron’s voice cut through the chaos. He appeared out of the shadows, delivering a punishing punch to Lucerys’s jaw. Lucerys stumbled and fell, and Jacaerys, recovering, swung at Daeron. But Daeron was faster, evading the punch and delivering a roundhouse kick that sent Jacaerys sprawling again.  

“Aemond!” Helaena’s voice was sharp with panic as she appeared at the edge of the pit, her eyes wide with horror. Aegon followed close behind, his gaze darting to Aemond, who was still clutching his bleeding face.  

“What is happening here?!” Aegon roared.  

Helaena rushed to Aemond’s side, her hands trembling as she tried to pull his hand away to see the wound. “Aemond, let me see,” she pleaded, her voice breaking.  

Aegon’s eyes fell on Lucerys, who was still holding the bloodied dagger. Fury ignited in him, and he stormed toward the boy, grabbing him by the collar. “What did you do?!” he bellowed, shaking him.  

Aemond barely registered the commotion. The pain was all-consuming, a burning, throbbing agony that seemed to drown out the world. He could hear the voices, muffled and distant, but they might as well have been coming from another world.  

“Little wing,” Aegon’s voice cut through the haze, soft and comforting. Aemond felt himself being lifted, Aegon’s strong arms cradling him. “I’ve got you,” Aegon murmured, his tone fierce but filled with worry.  

Helaena followed, her hand resting gently on Aemond’s shoulder as they carried him away from the chaos. Aemond’s vision blurred with tears of pain, but he clung to the sound of his brother’s voice, grounding him as the darkness threatened to take him.