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Chapter Text

ALYSSA I

King’s Landing held a sharp cool breeze that clung to the Blackwater Bay in the early hours of the morning. The same familiar freshness carried itself from Driftmark to Dragonstone, along the winds high in the air. The sea breeze was a memorable and uplifting smell that I had grown used to.

“It has been some time since we were in King’s Landing.” My attention came over to my stepmother, Rhaenyra, slowly approaching from the stern of the ship, a gentle hand cradling the roundness of her belly. “I’m sure it feels as foreign to you as it will to me and your father.”

“Pentos was more of my home, Princess,” I recalled, and I could remember days in my youth when I had been happiest. When we were a unit of five and our days were filled with contentment, laughter whilst surrounded by my mother, father and sisters. But the night Mother was lost to us was the day that I had never been the same. Rhaena and Baela were younger by a year than me, but it grew harder soon after to get condolence from our father.  I had become the new parent for my sisters. “Though, I’m sure it will be a surprise for all of us.”

Rhaenyra gave me a sincere smile, the many she had been able to give even when she then married her uncle. She never filled the empty spot of my late Lady mother, but she had been the best for strength and stay that slowly rebuilt the bridge between us four.

A loud cry loomed over us, and a shadow engulfed the ship as we both looked up to see the many shadows that filled the skies. Dragons. They filled the air with their cries. All of many shapes and colours, and the one I recognised most brought a smile to my face. I glimpsed the light green membrane of the wings I knew so well. Seafoam, my dragon whom I had bonded with at the age of six.

“Sometimes I wish I was one of them. Not having to worry about anything but the endless skies and where to go next.”

“Your father says so too, “Rhaenyra mused. “I wish I could carry the same enthusiasm as both of you, Alyssa.”

Alyssa. Named after a previous Queen and my untamed and fierce grandmother. A dragonrider once to Meleys, the Red Queen; both formidable. Yet death lurked in the name. Alys was what I was known to close, yet my full name tasted sour with a sense of dread and doom.

If Mother were still here, I wouldn’t have to worry about this, the prospect of family and blood. I could live the rest of my days on Seafoam’s back, laughing with my sisters and enjoying the rest of my childhood. All I could do was smile, a memory sown with the finest needlework into my mind forever. 

“Same here, Princess.”

-

King’s Landing didn’t hold the charm Driftmark or Pentos did. It had become rather bland.

The entire Red Keep was dark and drab, decorated in the heraldry of the seven rather than that that made the dynasty of Dragons and Valyria. I never remembered much of King's Landing, only when I was presented at half a year old to the court to my uncle and my grandparents on Driftmark, the same with my sisters when they came into the world a year later. The capital was more like a gallery than a thriving, living space, not flourishing when the Conciliator had passed. It was now lifeless as catacombs - barren and cold. There was no sign of the King, my uncle, rather, the shrewd weasel of the Queen, Alicent and her father, the Hand, Otto. The halls of the Keep held a chill that didn’t seem to feel ever completed, no matter how many lords and ladies filled its court - many of their faces were foreign to me.

I found my company once again with my sister, Rhaena, hugging her until my arms ached and my eyes almost welled with tears. Being apart from her had felt so awful, yet she had become a woman grown at ten-and-four, staying with our grandmother, Rhaenys as her ward on Driftmark.

We set off after we separated from Rhaenyra and my grandmother to chat, leaving us to drift through the winding hallways.

“Our cousins I have seen, sister. Helaena is still as sweet as ever. I have dared not looked for Aemond or Aegon," she began, and my heart clenched at the mention of the name of a certain secondborn. “I've heard he looks more of a warrior than Father was in his youth.”

“Yet, our father is fierce and has two good eyes. Merhaps, our cousin is playing dress up.” My sister had laughed easily, yet I found my stomach unsettled with nerves. If it had been true, I didn’t know if I wanted to come face to face with my cousin. He was no longer that ten-year-old boy, but instead ten-and-six, fully grown. The same boy whose eye had been slashed for taking my mother’s dragon.

Dragon stealer. Aemond One-eye. Thief, traitor and no longer close to my heart.

The thought had been the only thing on my mind, yet I had not seen my relatives or him in the Keep, and when it came to the late evening, I was greeted by my grandmother in my chambers, and my feelings that once began blooming.

“The Princess and I have been discussing marriage proposals.”

Oh, Seven Hells, the best news I’ve heard all day. I dreaded. 

“My sisters are betrothed to Lucerys and Jacaerys. I can only imagine who it could be, but I dread it to be Joffrey, grandmother.” I wiped my clammy hands into my dress. “There is not much we have in common, I’m afraid. Age is one of them.”

Rhaenys seemed sympathetic as she embraced me warmly. “Rhaenyra has proposed a marriage alliance to Vaemond’s eldest son, Daemion.”

My smile dropped, and I stepped away as much from her. “You are not bloody serious, are you? Grandfather would not agree to this.”

Rhaenys gave a downward look to the ground at the mention of her husband, replaced with the sturdiness that came from her Baratheon blood. “He would if he was here, Alys. Lucerys’ claim to the Driftmark throne is weak. To keep the peace between your grandfather and his brother, this match was set. Your ties are already strong thanks to Laena, it will be a great need to join the rest of our estranged family together. We know what Vaemond is like; always plotting. It will be agreed by His Grace and announced come the morrow.”

My mind thought back to Aemond, the boy who I hadn’t seen in six years. How would he react -- or would he even care at all if he knew? The boy was no longer who I thought he was- so why did I have to care or even think about him anymore?

I am no longer a frightened little girl. He is dead to me.

It was no use in acting surprised nor to be angry at this. I was ten-and-seven, a few months from reaching ten-and-eight, yet I had not been given a marriage arrangement, unlike my sisters.

Instead of screaming and shouting, protesting and pleading, it was only fair as a lady of the realm. My time had to come eventually. I bit the corner of my lip, reaching to hug my grandmother and hide the way I visibly shook in her arms.

“Thank you, grandmother. The arrangement will be most auspicious.”

-

The air around the Blackwater Bay had been a sharp distraction from the previous night’s ordeals. Waves crashed against the rocks against the bottom of the Keep, and high above, I thrived on the back of my Seafoam.

The She-dragon shrieked as she raced against the wind. Smaller and quicker than Syrax and Meleys, she dived down towards the water below, my silver curls whipping past my face, clenching the reigns as the wind whipped past me.

My stomach dropped as I imagined the cold of Blackwater compared to Pentos, performing for the traders that came and giving them a spectacle alongside my mother on Vhagar and father on Caraxes.

If I wished, I could’ve called Seafoam to direct her way from the capital, past the bay and towards Essos to live the life I so wished for, not to be trapped in a system so many in my family would be lost to for the rest of their lives.

Childhood had ended in a farse, and war loomed. I need to be ready more than ever.

But would I need to face my cousins? The dreadful Aegon and Aemond? War would not suit Helaena or her children.

Aemond. He would be ready for war. To fight my family for the throne against his half-sister if need be. He had the largest dragon, and he would be utmostly unstoppable. I loathed him. Hated his mother and grandfather and brother, but could I still hate the thought of him when my heart still clenched all those later?

Seafoam gave a low chortle that distracted me from my thoughts and it always amazed me that men of the realm believed dragons to have the intelligence of dogs. I scratched the back of her scaly neck in fondness. “I know, girl. Lost in my thoughts once again. Let us not waste and let people begin to wonder where we are. Naejot (Forward) Seafoam.”

-

“Welcome back, Lady Alyssa.”

“Thank you.” I greeted the guard as I handed my gloves to my handmaiden awaiting my arrival back through the doors to the courtyard. I noticed how much busier it had been before I left. Lords and ladies greeted with some bows, yet they lingered as if awaiting some spectacle.

It was when I heard it, aside from the sounds of the hooves of horses trampling the soft mud and chatter, the sound of steel clatter and ringing, grunts and shouts boomed as an audience watched. My attention was caught, a part of me telling, yearning to no look-over and turn away, however when I did catch a glimpse of who had caught the eyes of many, I had spotted the familiar Valyrian blond hair. Turning away, I moved as quickly as possible, bumping shoulders with some as the sound of the crowd began to dissipate. I thought I had been close to leaving, when I caught the sound of footsteps approaching close behind me, striding closer towards me, until-

“It has been some time, Lady Alyssa.”

I tried to make myself believe I would not know who it was speaking to me, but when I turned, it was still incredible to see him standing there in his full glory. At almost 6 feet tall; a dragon warrior in the flesh my sister had spoken of. Aemond.

Vhagar had turned him from a boy into a man, a God even.

There was nothing that stayed from his youth. Grown was the intimidated, timid and teased boy who was mocked for having no dragon by his nephews and older brother. Now was replaced a man set with a tempestuous, roguish look. With long silver-blond hair brushed past his shoulders, he was every part a warrior Rhaena had said he was. Maybe so than father. Yet, behind the wild untameable features was the same blue eye I had remembered looking into with fondness and tenderness.  Those blue eyes were replaced with something more ominous, colder and intense. They held retaliation and bitterness after so many years.

My head felt as if it was spinning, my pulse accelerating. I was suddenly transported back to being six years of age, remembering my mother's funeral, the day everything fell apart for our small family. He had been the one to steal everything from us, purposefully claiming my mother's dragon instead of Rhaena. Telling him he would gain a dragon of his own when instead, he pulled that stunt and broke our trust. My rage had been fired up even after he lost an eye to Lucerys, yet after those years had passed, it made me realise just how all my feelings were coming back up to the surface.

I straightened my back, flipping my hair over my shoulder coolly as I glared back at him, holding my breath as if waiting for him to hear the pounding of my heart the same way dragons could sense fear.

“Cousin.”

“You wound me, my lady.” Aemond mocks charmingly, stalking around me as if he knew I was ready to leave. “I was hoping you would watch me train with Ser Criston. It is not rare to see many ladies at court watching.”

I would rather drown in the Blackwater. I seethed, cheeks growing hot whilst averting my gaze from him. Curse the Gods for making him so intimidating yet so attractive. “I have no time to watch you fight, my Prince. I have other matters to deal with.”

Aemond seemed pleased by the lack of eye contact from me, leaning into my personal space. “You know, I heard from some little birds that a certain maiden has finally been betrothed.”

Had I been so foolish to remember the news had come out? Or had someone found out before the announcement? Though Aemond continued. “Has it truly been six years? I remember the old days of youth, cousin. A certain day I remember clear as rain.”

“I remember that day too, the day you stole my mother’s dragon.” I snarkily bit back, but if there was anything that came from those hours of mourning was the way Aemond had treated me and my sisters before that night; the way he consoled us three and the way he gave me some moment to be a child once again.

One memory from that day was sitting beneath the castle where the shore met the rocks and the beginning of the sea, staring out as if it had been just been only the two of us, sharing memories and stories to console and relate to one another. In the last moments, before we joined the rest of our families, I shared a fond peck on his lips, one of innocence and secrecy.

I doubted he ever remembered that day, and if he ever thought back to those memories as I had.

“Your sister was just too slow in claiming her first.” Aemond shrugged and it was only now that I realised the blade he was holding was dangerously close to me, a real blade that no boy should’ve been playing with.

But Aemond was no boy.

“You won’t be laughing soon, Aemond. I don’t doubt your mother has arrangements for you. Those poor ladies: awaiting to be enveloped in our house’s cloak, drawn into our families' drama.” His poor sister was relieved of that duty, though, marrying Aegon was maybe worse.

“I will not have time for marriage,” Aemond taunted, moving around me once more where his next words brought more than just the Stranger’s chill to run down my spine, “I will only have time for the sword.”

-

Pomp and ceremony were not unusual for House Targaryen, nor was its lack of excessive need for celebration.

My uncle, the King had pulled out only the best for his brother’s kin, for all three of his girls had been bestowed the time for marriage. Viserys' grandchildren through Rhaenyra too joined for the occasion, and though the King had joined for a small part of the party, his need for amity for both sides of his family soon resumed their bitterness.

“I wanted to congratulate you on your betrothal, sweet cousin,” Helaena kissed both my cheeks with an affection I remembered from the joyful girl. She had always been a sweet yet lonely girl, though her marriage to Aegon left her unwanted like the children she bore for him. “Marriage will come quickly to you. Though, I do hope Daemion is kind and fair. Sometimes I get something from my husband if he’s drunk.”

“… Thank you, Helaena. You have always been thoughtful.” I held her arm’s length and into another hug, only to hear the whisperings that I thought were some warning.

“Dragons entangle from years of estrangement.”

It didn’t take long for the meal to come and for everyone to sit, and for its small table full of relatives, our table was larger than expected. Baela and Jacaerys sat together, whispering and laughing amongst one another, opposite them, my father, Daemon and Rhaenyra. At the end of the table, Rhaena and Luke sat closer together than my sister and her betrothed.

I sat beside Jacaerys, situated next to Aegon to my left, Helaena and unfortunately, Aemond at the head. What made it more difficult for the entire evening was whilst everyone sat and chatted amongst each other, even laughter filled the air for the first time, Aemond never once broke eye contact with me.

“I heard Vaemond’s son is bookish to a fault,” Aegon mused, whispering in my ear as he placed a rough hand over mine, breathing a stench so strong of wine that it nearly made me gag. “If you are ever in any need of company, Driftmark or Dragonstone is not far from King’s Landing and I certainly have more courage to be acquainted with you once again, Alys.”

I remembered the stares, the stares of Aemond and knew he was listening in. How could he not when his brother was speaking in audible whispers? How he was watching me hawkishly, even when I did not look back at him. I awkwardly removed my hand underneath his, resuming a dutifulness, my heart ready to be swallowed in my throat.

“You must forgive me, cousin. We are in front of family, after all. I'm sure they wouldn't want to hear about your wild escapades, including in front of your wife."

Aegon’s face grew hot as he lazily pulled away, looking to the rest of the table whilst his grandfather looked on silently, amused. Helaena looked pleased by my words, the twinkle returning in her eyes. The only one of the siblings who looked unresponsive was Aemond, who he resumed only to stare back at me, a light amusement twinkling in his good eye. Fascination.

Everything seemed to be going smoothly once the speeches began, ones of luck and prosperity from all parties. Baela and Jacaerys received the most due to being the future King and Queen, but it brought me some relief to hear of the good word.

It was only ruined when I thought it had been over, the sound of a scrapping chair brought everyone’s attention to the head, and my heart stammered with doom. Aemond stood sharply to his feet, ceasing the rest of his family, holding his chalice in a toast. “Final tribute,” he spoke boldly and proudly, his eye staring into mine. “To my cousin, Lady Alyssa. A lovely, comely, intelligent woman who has grown considerably. I hope her betrothed enjoys her company as much as I did in our youth.”

The room fell silent, even quieter before the toast, all eyes now on me.

The chair scrapped as I found myself with no guide and leaving the table, running from the room, head bowed as I found the doors open without me needing to do so myself. I ran and ran until the large room was away from me, and my lungs ached. The tears followed suit, falling hotly down my face.

I snivelled and choked on them: what did I expect, everyone had made toast except for him. Was this some sort of proud jape to ruin my innocence as a lady? I supported myself to a pillar, collecting myself even when more tears fell.

I could hear footsteps drawing in closer to my position in the hallway, and before I had hopes of it being Helaena, Rhaenyra or even my father, my eyes looked quick to the figure, averting my gaze in both shame, humiliation and hot, blinding fury.

“You have ruined me.”

Aemond caught up quickly to where I stood, standing not too far from me as he resumed what I could only describe as apathy to the situation. “I was only speaking highly of you.”

“You besmirched my virtue like I’m a common wench!” Rubbing my eyes, my eyelashes clung together making it harder to see. “Why did you speak of that time as if we did anything?”

Aemond seemed quieter than usual, and silence meant he was thinking, thinking of something more to say to ruin or humiliate me with. My rage burnt, my anger following. “Answer me!”

“I care too much for you, Alys.”

My heart clenched at my nickname, but I could only try to remain furious at him. “Why do you speak as if you give a shit about me? We haven’t seen each other for six years.”

“Do you not think the moment I heard of your betrothal, I wouldn’t have taken you onto the back of Vhagar, flown across the Narrow Sea and had you become my lady wife in the style of our house?” His voice was oddly calm, unwavering still.

My heart stammered as if ready to be ripped from my chest, my head aching as if the wine was poisoned and slowly consuming me. “What in seven hells are you talking about? I am to be wedded to Daemion Velaryon.”

“You are not as of yet,” Aemond answered. “You are still a maiden and I can still do what that little lord will not be able to do.”

The warrior he was, he was quick on his feet to reach into my space, leaning to capture my lips in a fierce lock that stunned me muted. It was as bold as the years it had taken him to perfect his fighting and to ride the old she-dragon perfectly. He controlled the kiss the same way he controlled the large creature. It left me breathless, knees wobbling as he cradled me not so subtly to his chest as I clung to him before I could stumble.

The hold on the back of my neck was dominating yet tender, his thumb caressing my cheek. He stopped to wipe the dampened flesh. “You were mine back then and you are mine now. I would do it all a thousand times again.”

“What of our family?”

“I don’t give a shit about what they think,” Aemond declared matter-of-factly, “Aegon can keep his bastards and my sister can keep her dreams. Mother will only worry for them and not me. I am lawless in her eyes." He laughed dryly, "The dutiful second son.”

“My father—he would disapprove, Rhaenyra would.” I tried thinking of any reason, even when my body and soul begged to be with him like in the days of my youth, screaming at the idea of becoming his wife. “You would do all those things?”

He gripped my chin to control me to look up at him, wiping more of the solemn tears that fell from my cheeks. “Anything to get us both out of this game. I swore it back then, and I swear it to you now. My Alys.”

Chapter Text

ALYSSA I

The bell toll for many things in King’s Landing. The rejoicing of a birth. The blessing of a wedding. A city under siege. Yet, I knew at this fateful hour of the night that something was wrong.

The city was rarely lively at this time: people from the capital roamed the streets with music and plays to be told of old Kings and their Queens, their dragons and their tales. A different scene to that of the day.

However, amidst the calmness on the streets, inside the Keep, turmoil reigned.

I had been awoken to it, mistaking it for a siege just outside my window, the sounds of cries and shouts, rushed footsteps moving all at once just outside my room, never ceasing.

I rushed out of my bed, running to the door. With a harsh tug on the heavy lead doors, they did not budge, solid and unmoved.

“What is going on out there?” My voice was oddly calm for the sounds of murmured voices and fleeting movement, moving at once just inches from outside my room. “Let me out of this instance!”

My mind went to my grandmother; where had she been in this, escorted from her chambers? Whisked away before she could realise what was happening.

Curse the Gods, I should’ve taken the trip back to Dragonstone. To be away from this mess. Why did I accept staying in this city, wishing my sisters goodbye instead of going with them? I tried at the doors again. Once, twice, thrice. Nothing. The movement from outside never stilled, and voices ranged with confusion and panic rising. I did not need to know what had happened, incredibly so late into the night.

My shouts and cries were not answered, my thoughts racing as I imagined what would’ve been accepted of me. Rhaenyra would not be declared Queen, nor would she have been told of the news of her father’s passing. This was a ploy, acted by the Hightowers to win their petty game and seat Aegon as ruler.

Seafoam. Where are you? I wished I had been on her back, flying back to tell of the traitor’s schemes. They all were aware. I fumed. Otto, Alicent, Aegon, Aemond… did he care at all? Even after the kiss we shared?

I remembered his words: the way he caressed me, held me close to him as if it was only me there and nothing else in the world. “I swore it back then, and I swear it to you now. My Alys.”

“Liar.” I seethed. “You fucking liar.” I banged at the doors, screaming louder as my anger flourished, raw and flaming like a dragon’s breath. I did not stop until my voice croaked and my fists ached. Liar. Liar. Liar. I had let my feelings loose, allowing them to be used against me like a foolish child.

My rage burnt until it ached in my chest, and I imagined how it would’ve felt to be atop Seafoam, burning the greens in their walls to the ground. How fitting: the Conqueror did it once. I could imagine it now: King’s Landing a smoking ruin, my stepmother atop the seat of the iron throne with the crown on her head.

If I did not burn King’s Landing, certainly Rhaenyra and father.

There were no bells to be rung, no mourners, no cries out. It would all be quietly decided until Aegon had the crown on his head. How would Rhaenyra react? Taking her dragon to the Keep to burn all inside? Her half-siblings, myself and Rhaenys included?

No, she would mourn, but she would not be so cold. A killer was one thing, but a Kinslayer was a fate worse than the Stranger’s touch. I have seen The Stranger more times than I can imagine. No more, not whilst the King is still fresh as a corpse.

All I could do was wait. Wait, and gave a quiet prayer to the Mother, praying for my family and those who would be lost for good.

AEMOND I

“Your father is dead. Aegon is now King.”

He was in the courtyard of the early hour when the news came for him to see his mother, hurried tones that grew muted in the air. Everything was so secretive that it had given no time for the one-eyed Prince to react.

Father is dead. How should he have felt? The man who had given him little to no attention since the time in the cradle, only doting on his eldest daughter from a previous marriage. He and his siblings were discarded for nothing, forgotten and only given the blessings and privileges that were normal for any Prince or Princess of the crown- honour and titles, wealth and riches beyond all of Westeros and Essos.

But not a father’s love.

He had found his mother, who had been more distraught than him; dressed in subdued green and her long hair dishevelled. She had not gotten much sleep, he noted, watching her movements silently. She had been muttering incessantly; how would Helaena know? How would the rivals react? He had been her rock this whole time, the steady calm when she needed to be away from Aegon and his vulgar acts that she and her father hid so very well. He did what he did best: hugging her how any child would, devotedly and silently, before he quietly drew the words he had been thinking since the news came from a dreaded tongue.

“What will we do with Rhaenys? And of Alyssa?”

“They have been kept to their chambers. It would be too risky to allow them out. Not until Aegon’s coronation in the morning.” His mother’s words were quick, hurried and jumbled, “We must, we must anoint him before news reaches Rhaenyra.”

Aegon didn’t deserve to be King, nor did Rhaenyra as Queen. 

His mind was running with thoughts, not for his brother or his family, but for his Alys. What would they do with her if she didn’t do what the King and his grandfather asked? Aemond knew it would’ve been peace and allegiance to his brother, yet he knew it wouldn’t be so easy.

Not with Alyssa, his sweet Alyssa, fierce and stubborn and willful. He would’ve laughed at the sight, imagining her now: more beast than human in chains. My Alys. Locked and bound like a little bird. It would not suit her well.

“Allow me to visit our guests, mother. I’m sure my cousin would need to know of the death of her uncle.” Aemond suggested, yet Alicent had twisted her head so sharply it looked as if it nearly snapped off. “Lady Alyssa is as wild as her father. No, leave the girl to me. I know of her reputation.”

There is no doubt she would already know. Aemond thought, though, his heart twisted at the mention of the words he spoke against her. The ones he only wanted in hopes of getting the approval from his mother to marry her. In hopes of getting her betrothed to call everything off. Now, it only seeped drama, its ugly head reared and moving from shadow to shadow with rumours for all to whisper.

“No, you must find your sister, and be kind and gentle to her with the news.”

“Of course, mother.”

ALYSSA II

My room was lit with light and deadly silent compared to the streets when the Dowager Queen slipped in.

Queen Alicent had looked more like a shell of her past self. The once righteous and confident woman now looked decrepit, exhausted and on the verge of madness. The green of her gown wanned her skin, and she looked sickly in the sight.

“My grandmother, where is she?” My words came as I approached hastily as if outweighing to shove past her and flee. No doubt her guards would be there, and her loyal dog, Criston Cole too. I had heard stories of the wedding to Rhaenyra and my uncle, Laenor; how he slayed his favourite knight and companion, Ser Joffrey Lonmouth like he was a butcher. The thought shuddered through me, imagining what he could do with little to no order from his owner.

“She is safe and fine, worried of you I have heard,” Alicent answered in a slow tone, though I could tell it hid the tiredness in her words. “It is not her who also asks for you, Lady Alyssa.”

I ignored her words, shaken and sure she was talking about a certain second son of hers. “I am fine, though I have not been informed of my uncle’s passing. Tell me, would it be easy to spread the word to the Queen who awaits her birthright?”

Alicent’s face paled visibly. “The King has been anointed in the Dragonpit in front of all those to see. It was your uncle, the King’s wish.”

I laughed too quickly. “Is that what he told you? Whilst you held the poison to his lips?”

Alicent surged towards you, anger flashing in her eyes. “You dare speak of the lies in your stepmother’s court? I do not know what your father whispers on Dragonstone, but I assure you, the King died in peace with those words on his tongue.”

My hands clenched into fists. “It couldn’t have been—Rhaenyra was his heir for the last twenty years.”

“He was adamant in his wishes.”

My head was pounding, my heart stammering in pain in my chest. This couldn’t have been. “What will you have of me then? Strung on the high walls for all to see?”

“That was what my father wished for, for all your family and the Princess,” my heart clenched. “But I have spoken with his Grace and have requested him to listen to my words and heed on the deaths of your family.”

“Requested? More like begged.”

The Queen’s lips flattened. “Until Princess Rhaenyra has sworn allegiance to her half-brother, the true King, you and the Princess Rhaenys will remain here in the Red Keep, protected and watched over, and so too your dragons.”

Protected is a pretty word for held hostage. I mocked. “And if she doesn’t?”

“What do you mean?”

“And when the Princess does not bow down to the King—and we both know she will not— what will you do when she arrives on dragon back, answer me that? Will you apologise with kisses and proclaim her the new ruler?”

Alicent laughed dryly. “It wouldn’t come to that.”

My mouth was dry when I continued to listen to her denial. “War has loomed for the last twenty years, your Grace. Plotting from yourself and your father to have Aegon as King, and the moment when everything falls perfectly in place, that is when the snakes lurch from the tall grass.”

Alicent’s chin jutted as before she spoke carefully. “War will not come to the realm, my lady. The realm has seen peace since the Conciliator. And Viserys made good work of keeping that until his final days. His son will continue what was set in stone.”

“Is that what you tell yourself? When not once had this happened before, to my grandmother when she was discarded for her sex. So too will Rhaenyra.”

Something flashed within her burning eyes, and at that moment, I knew she would say something outlandish. “It is the oddest thing, is it not? Had the Old King accepted the votes for your grandmother to be his next heir and allowed daughters to be as worthy as sons, so too would Laena have joined her as Princess of Dragonstone. And so too you.”

Had it been the warmth of power that surged in my chest? The prospect of being heir and Queen? In another lifetime, had the victors been so grateful? “Jaehaerys did not allow it then, and the men of the realm wouldn’t have either.” I laughed to ease the tension. “My uncle Laenor had always seen a better candidate than my mother.”

“How deemed fit would’ve you been as heir? As dutiful as the Old King? As wise as he or kind as his sister-wife? No doubt, if you had been his daughter and word came of this sin, your right as heir would have been broken, set aside for a younger brother.”

Heat rose so did my anger. “You are accusing me of such a crime? A crime that was so innocent of any child?”

“My son was a child too. I have no doubt it was easy to lure him.” She spoke of it matter-of-factly.

I scoffed. The pious and righteous Alicent. How you have fallen. “Aemond said it to mock my betrothed. We… I forgave him for his japes.”

She did not seem to accept my words. “Had it been fate, had I been as relaxed at accepting Jacaerys and Helaena in matrimony, the same could’ve been with you and Aemond, niece.” She stepped forth until I could feel the heat from her breath. “You have tainted yourself before I could call you my good-daughter.”

My hand twitched with the thought of unfurling a smack to her face, but I refrained when remembering the Kingsguard outside the doors. My fingers shook with wroth.

“Careful, Alicent. I may not be your niece through blood, but I am certainly my uncle’s kin, and undoubtedly my father’s daughter. I do not wish to become an enemy of yours.”

“The court whispers of your acts, Alyssa. Word carries quickest, quicker than a raven.” She warned as if the hatred for me had been replaced with a motherly warning. “The mouths of court hold too many secrets to ruin one’s self. What would happen if the word spread past the capital? Beyond the lands of the realm and even across the Blackwater, towards the island, your betrothed awaits for your hand?”

I didn’t allow her to speak any further, pointing to the door. “Go, I’m sure you must attend to His Grace. He must need his mother in a moment of vulnerability and mourning.”

Alicent opened her mouth to speak but did not answer as she nodded solemnly. “The King will need an answer from you after his coronation. So too from your grandmother.”

“I’m sure he will. But I will not answer to no King. I await our true Queen.”

AEMOND II

“That foolish, foolish girl! She speaks more mindlessly than Aegon. How I wish I could—she is all her father, none of the lovely Laena remains in her compared to her sisters.”

Aemond had done what he did best, and in the years of being there as emotional support to his mother, he had grown good at staying silent and listening. And listening he did well.

He would’ve laughed at his cousin’s antics: even from young she had been the same, wild and untamed like the dragons on Dragonstone. He remembered her at her mother’s funeral: braver than her sisters regardless of the salt that she blinked from her eyes.

She had been anywhere but beside her sisters after the burial at sea, and it took most of the day to find her, only for her to be snuck grabbing the reigns of her then-young she-dragon, tears flowing from her eyes in an attempt to leave.

That day, even when her white curls had grown unruly from the wind and smoke, Aemond had thought she had looked beautiful.

No matter how hard she tried, Aemond knew that the girl was persistent to a cause, a fire and little to no salt of the sea in her blood. It had taken some futile attempts for her to release Seafoam, and they spent some rest of their time, beneath the bowels of Driftmark, speaking to one another as if long-lost friends reunited.

‘Maybe, if I fly back to Pentos, she will be there waiting for me.’

He had come to realise how much of his cousin was nothing like his older brother or nephews, nor did she mock him for being dragonless. ‘My mother did not get a dragon until she turned ten-and-five,’ She replied, wide-eyed and hopeful, ‘Vhagar became her mount. A dragon does not claim your worth.’

Aemond remembered the innocent kiss they shared, ignoring their families above them as they shared the peace of their family and house and spilt. In the end, it was a moment Aemond had missed from his troubled youth, not one of teasing and bullying, but of hope and childish purity.

“Mother, allow me to speak with her. She is mourning just as we do,” he knew it had been a lie when only one of them was. “She is trapped here, away from her family and worries for her grandmother. Would it ease your qualms if I saw her?”

His mother dismissed it all the same with incessant worry. “No, the court hears too much, if they heard more—”

“Mother,” he quietly took her by the shoulders, squeezing them kindly. “She is my cousin, my own blood. We haven’t spoken since that day. It was I after all who apologised for offending her and her betrothed.”

Alicent didn’t seem to believe his words from the scepticism written on her face, but she sighed, hugging him to her. “My son, my lovely son. What carnage awaits us?”

“None if we keep the crown away from Rhaenyra.” He spoke adamantly. “Aegon will remain safe here.” And so too, my Alys. “No matter what I shall do to keep the city safe.”

-

He slipped in the cover of night, when the streets of King’s Landing were filled with mostly joy for the new King. The common people never knew of drama, nor the way it kept those trapped and had harboured chaos, yet Aemond could feel it all inside the Keep.

The bodies hung high for all to see: of minor lords and ladies who were foolish to not swear allegiance to Aegon and to stand in defiance for his half-sister instead. How foolish of them. He thought, if they were smart enough, they could’ve kept their lives. And their heads.

He had remembered where to find Alyssa’s room through the long halls, avoiding knights and guards patrolling as he slipped through the cracks of shadows, waiting before continuing his pursuit. He knew it was wrong what he had to do, but all he could think of was Alys. Would she think him a craven for breaking promises? He could not know, but he could only try, for her sake.

Her chambers he found with ease, slipping past through the doors before a guard could notice as they did their routine swaps throughout the night, quietly finding the room alit with light and little to no darkness.

That was when he heard movement, the shifting of clothing and rustling as someone shifted behind him, charging with speed. Even with one good eye, he managed to swing around to capture the person from moving, and apart from the candles in the room ceased to move.

He had forgotten all about the mourning, the deceit and trickery, not when he could feel how his heart felt ruptured and poured liquid fire inside him from the sight in front of him. “Alys.”

“Aemond.”

It was uncertain who had moved first, but in a heartbeat, he had been kissing her with a force that it nearly knocked her off her feet in a fleeting heartbeat. He cradled her, his fingers running through her white curls, tenderly cradling the sides of her face in an embrace he feared would make her break in his grasp.

It was only when he pulled away did he realise she had been trembling, tears biting at the corners of her eyes.

He held her close to keep her steady, and all feelings poured from his heart to hers. “Aemond… I-” She began but he silenced her fondly.

“I know,” he spoke when their lips parted. “But we have no time, we must leave.”

“What?”

“The city is not safe for either of us, and I do not think a war would be good for either of us,” Aemond spoke matter-of-factly, gathering a clock for her to put on, his own cloak guarding his face.

“But what about my grandmother and Seafoam?”

“Wherever you go, they will follow,” he dragged her to a set of secret stairs from the back of her bedroom wall, ones he was told by Ser Erryk would lead him down to the outskirts of the city, albeit underground. “We must not waste time.”

“You mean to row us to Dragonstone?”

“No, Vhagar awaits by the shores. And we’re not going to Dragonstone yet. I promised you one thing, not before my mother could find out.”

“How—” Alyssa’s words jolted from her mouth, her eyes widening in the realisation of what he meant. “You mean it? Truly?”

“I will wed you, I promised you then. Not before some Velaryon brood of Vaemond’s can get their hands on you.” He pressed a chaste kiss to her lips once more. “We must make haste to Evenfall Hall.”

“Doesn’t House Tarth support your brother?”

“My grandfather believes the Evenstar of Tarth will support your stepmother.” Said Aemond. “He has not heard an answer from them as of yet.”

They didn’t speak for several minutes as they descended into the depths of the underground, dark and damp walls echoed their hurried footsteps as they rushed with certain worry, constantly looking back at themselves in fear of being followed or chased.

Once the caves opened and the banks of the Blackwater rush opened for them, Aemond took Alyssa over to Vhagar, sleeping soundlessly whilst the gulls and water swayed and crashed around her. “Hurry.” He motioned and Alyssa clambered up the rigging that got them up her back into the saddle, the One-eyed Prince hurrying.

Aemond climbed in front, grabbing the reigns as Vhagar began to groan back to life. “Sōvētēs, Vhagar.” Aemond gave the command loudly, and the large she-dragon moaned as she rose from the sand covering her. Alyssa clutched to Aemond from behind, not used to the size compared to Seafoam not even half Vhagar’s size.

With a loud cry into the sky, Vhagar set off down the bank, slowly and clambering off the ground as she slowly and awkwardly soared into the skies. The wind whipped up in Alyssa’s face, higher and stronger than any dragon she had been on before, Vhagar could still fly with no issues despite her age and speed.

“What will Rhaenyra think when she hears of us married?” Alyssa muttered once the steadiness of the air had settled.

“It will not be up to her or my mother what they think,” Aemond spoke. “They can keep at their war. I am done playing to everyone’s weaknesses.”

“Husband does have a good ring to it,” Alyssa settled in cuddling into Aemond’s back, wrapping her arms around his slim waist. Aemond gave a chuckle. “Anything for you, wife. Anything to keep you safe.”