Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Usually, when a person finds themselves magically displaced into the middle of a barren wasteland of a kingdom, the first thing they would do is try and leave it.

But for a certain Harleigh Potter, who was always more likely to run into danger than from it, her first course of action was to explore it instead. Which, in Hermione’s book, was usually an absolute no-no. And while Harleigh would usually consider her best friend’s advice, said best friend wasn’t here right now. A series of failed point-me charms had confirmed that nothing from her old world seemed to be here now. 

Which, in Harleigh’s mind, meant there was nothing stopping her from poking everything around her with a stick. Or in this case, her wand.

Sure, the toxic ash-filled air did put a momentary damper on her plans. But a quick bubble-head charm had amended that immediately. As for the continuous thick lava-born air—well, let’s just say it’s a good thing she always was quite tolerant to the heat.

By the time she had made it deeper inside the city, where the air seemed to only get thicker and harder to see through, she noticed ghostly figures milling around. Strangely enough, they weren’t truly corporeal. Not to the extent of ghosts she’d met at Hogwarts, at least. 

“Hey, excuse me,” she tried waving her hand in front of one of their faded faces, “do you know where we are?”

No reply. In fact, the silhouette proceeded to walk right through her, much to her discomfort. 

“Okay, then.”

As she made it deeper into the city center, the figures got clearer and clearer, giving them more defining features she could actually make out. Most, she noticed from the corner of her vision, looked quite similar to each other. With matching white hair and a whole spectrum of violet in their eyes, the ghosts were clearly related to each other, if not at least of the same race. No doubt, these were the original inhabitants of this city who must’ve perished at one point. 

With Harleigh’s own dark hair and bright green eyes, it was a wonder as to how the rest of the ghosts didn’t notice her sticking out like a sore thumb.

“Excuse me, but could you help me? I don’t know where I am,” Harleigh tried once more with one of the clearer-looking spectrals. Still, no one reacted or even glanced her way. And as each passing attempt was met with failure, Harleigh began to wonder if she was better off just giving up and leaving the burning city entirely. 

It wasn’t until Harleigh took a seat at what looked like some broken bench that a spirit, the most corporeal of the lot, finally approached her.

It was a young girl who couldn’t be more than ten years or so, from what Harleigh could tell. Despite her messy twin braids, her dress looked well-made and in a much better state than what most of the other ghosts were wearing. No burns, no rips, not even a bloodstain. Which begets the question—what could have killed this young girl? And what exactly made her so different from the rest? 

The girl quickly motioned at Harleigh to follow her, and as soon as Harleigh stood, had immediately started scampering away from the other ghosts to head deeper into the city center.

“Wait!” Harleigh had nearly cried out, only to stop herself when she nearly ran into a blackened marble pillar. It wasn’t until she was out of sight that she called for the little girl again. “Hey! Where did you go?”

She spotted the ghost again at the entrance of some barely-standing tunnel headed underground. The bricks holding it up, while strong and unfazed by time, were scorched and had sustained some damage. Harleigh still sprinted after the little ghost girl, thinking that it couldn’t possibly get more dangerous than a potential cave-in, at worst. 

Only when she finally found herself in the darkness of the chamber, she heard a familiar roar.

‘Don’t tell me...’

It wasn’t until she made it to the end of the chamber that opened up into some greater catacomb that she finally recognized the sound of the roar and the behemoth of the beast residing inside.

It was a goddamn dragon. And a live one at that.

“Are you its rider?” Harleigh asked, only for the little ghostly image of the girl to start nodding furiously. The dragon seemed tame enough. But unlike the ghost girl, should the dragon decide that Harleigh was some sort of snack, she highly doubted that she could escape unscathed.

The little girl started mouthing something Harleigh could barely make out. “Ba? His name is Ba? Ba-leer-Balerion? Who is Balerion—“ 

Before Harleigh could finish her question, the dragon she had been watching moments before immediately turned to face her with slitted eyes. 

And in lieu of a growl, she instead heard a familiar-sounding hiss. A familiar language she did not think would burst from the beast’s lips. “Who dares say my name.”

Harleigh nearly took a step back as she eyed the dark flames sputtering from Balerion’s mouth. But before Balerion could do anything drastic, the little ghost of a girl stood between them and the sound of a child’s cry could be heard echoing around the room. At the sound, the greater beast immediately gently lowered his head to the ground, as if reprimanded.

“Master...Where are you? I sense you, I hear you, but I don’t see you.”

It made for a strange image to see the large beast being so compliant to the ghostly image of a tiny girl. Before Harleigh could think on it more, however, the little ghost girl motioned her forward, pointing at her throat. 

’Speak’, the ghost mouthed.

“Speak? To Balerion?” Harleigh asked, confused.

At this, the ghost nodded. ‘Speak,’ the girl emphasized, this time motioning from her throat to her heart, then to the lightning bolt scar on her head. 

”Master...where are you? When can we go home?” The dragon almost crooned with a gentle tinge in his voice.

At the young ghost’s pleading gaze, Harleigh finally relented, feeling the familiar rasp she had spoken only a handful of times before. ”Your master...she is here, Balerion.”

Balerion’s head swiveled in her direction, dark reptilian eyes peering into hers only confirming the fact that, yes, this behemoth of a dragon could understand her.

More importantly, he could speak back.

”You are a speaker.”

Harleigh swallowed nervously but moved forward at the little ghost’s encouragement. ”Yes. And I can see your master.”

A blast of smoke blew out from Balerion’s nostrils as he started furiously looking around desperately. ”Where did she go? Why can’t I see her?”

The little ghost girl seemed stricken by the question, as if unsure as to how to answer. ”She can’t say. But surely you must know what happened to her last.”

”We were going on a trip. Master wanted to fly away…away from those who forgot her,” Balerion grumbled. ”So we came here. To my first home. I was tired from the flight, so she told me to stay and rest. And I did. I rested and waited for Master. But Master never came back.”

A sharp and pained keel echoed across the room, one that caused Balerion to perk up sharply. ”I heard Master. That was her. Where is she?”

As excited as Balerion seemed, Harleigh could only see a tear fall from the ghost girl’s face. ”She’s here, Balerion. Do not worry,” Harleigh attempted to placate as she saw the ghost girl shake her head. Clearly, the ghost didn’t want her to say anything more. 

“What does Master want me to do, speaker? Must I wait more?” Balerion asked, now deferring to Harleigh since he himself could not seem to see the ghost girl.

At the dragon’s question, his rider immediately mouthed, ‘Home.’

”She wants to go home, Balerion.”

”Then I shall take her!” Balerion crowed proudly, already getting up onto his feet. His large size and sluggishness caused the ground to shake with each step. “We shall fly once more as we did all those years ago. And all those who doubted Master will fall to their knees when they see her once more!”

Harleigh watched as the ghost girl laughed, face just a little bit brighter as she wiped away the tear streaks on her face. It wasn’t until the child turned to face her that Harleigh realized that she was holding out her own ghostly hand for her to take.

“Me?” Harleigh called out in surprise. “Do you want me to come with you?”

As the ghost reached out for Harleigh’s hand, Harleigh was surprised to find that she could feel the tiny child’s hand in hers. It almost felt like an imprint, barely solid, but still very much there. 

”If that is what master wishes, then you may ride with master on my back, speaker.” Balerion agreed, clearly itching to step out and take flight.

‘Home,’ the little girl mouthed once more. And this time, not even Harleigh had to translate for Balerion to know what the young girl wanted.

Funnily enough, it had taken quite a bit of flying around for Harleigh to realize just how strange this world was outside of the burning ruins she first woke up at. The magic there had been strangely stagnant, as if everything and everyone there had been on a perpetual hold. But as soon as she and her little ghost companion took off on Balerion’s back, she felt the world’s magic finally come alive. And with it, so did little Aerea and her voice. 

“Aerea, huh? That’s a lovely name, kiddo,” Harleigh smiled, hands terribly tight around the useless reins she had been instructed to hold. It didn’t matter, seeing as no one could truly order Balerion what to do, save for his rider. “You can call me Harleigh. And that goes for you, too, Balerion.”

Balerion scoffed at that. “I will never understand you humans and your need for names.”

”You can’t just keep calling me speaker for the rest of our journey, you know,” Harleigh shot back with a laugh.

“And why not? Is that not what you are? A speaker?” 

To that, Harleigh snorted. ”And if there are more speakers like me? What then?”

Instead of giving a proper answer, Balerion merely scoffs at the notion. As if the idea of another speaker even existing was nothing more than an impossible joke. 

Aerea, at least, seemed taken with her name. Or perhaps it was because she could finally be heard. The fact that Balerion could now make out some of Aerea’s words had helped soften him to the witch somewhat. And being more than willing to translate Aerea’s more complicated ramblings made Harleigh all the more tolerable in the dragon’s eyes.

“Tell me, speaker…does my master look alright? Does she bear any injury or ailment?” 

They were nearly two hours into their journey over the ocean at this point. And considering how Harleigh found both Aerea and Balerion, she was quick to assuage the beast’s fears.

“If there was something wrong with her, she would tell us, wouldn’t she?”

”You say that, but there is no way for me to confirm it for myself. Why can you see her when I can’t?”

Unsure of what to truly say, murmured assurances slipped from Harleigh’s lips. Truth be told, the matter of Aerea’s state and the story of her death was still unknown. No amount of prodding could get the young girl to budge. Not even when Balerion himself would fall fast asleep every time they set up camp.

”He worries for you, you know. And there’s only so much I can say as to why he can’t see or hear you like I can,” Harleigh murmured one night as her fingers combed through Aerea’s starlight locks. After realizing that she could physically affect Aerea’s corporeal form to some extent, it had become a ritual at this point for Harleigh to fasten a new hairstyle on the tiny girl every time they’d land.

Aerea only hummed as she cuddled closer into Harleigh’s body, eyes slowly falling shut. Harleigh couldn’t tell if she was feigning sleep (for when did ghosts ever need to sleep?), but she recognized the girl’s attempt to drop the subject. 

“Fine, fine. But you have to tell him one day, if not me, okay? Promise?”

A tiny yawn, but one that held promise. After all, at least it wasn’t an outright no.

Considering the past few years, Alicent used to think there was little that could shake her. Her son had already lost an eye to her good-daughter’s bastard. Her husband, the King, continued to refuse to do anything about it. What more, not only had the Realm’s Delight gotten away with nary a punishment, but she had gone against the King’s wishes once again by marrying her rogue of an uncle in secret.

Truly, was there nothing her old childhood best friend couldn’t do without facing any real consequences? Without rubbing it in her admittedly green-ing face? 

The only good thing to come of this had been the fact that the Blacks had left for Dragonstone, giving the Queen some respite from the entire feud. But in her despairing heart, she knew that there was only so much time before the ailments overwhelmed her husband and his favorite daughter began knocking down the Red Keep’s doors once more. 

But had it been too much to hope that maybe, just maybe, she could get some peace for one more year? 

“Your majesty, we have received reports from Storm’s End that a dragon and its rider are flying towards the Keep.”

“Is it my daughter?” Viserys asked, unable to hide the excitement in his voice.”Is she finally coming to visit?”

There is something painful in the hope she sees in her husband right then and there. Always hoping that his flighty daughter might return to see him, and forever blind to the fact that he has three perfect living children right in front of him. Four, even, if her youngest were to return from Oldtown.

“No, my lord. According to the letters, this dragon was unidentifiable. We only know that it was far bigger than Syrah or Caraxes. Rumors say it is even bigger than Vhagar.”

Ever the quickest of his siblings, her scarred son was the first to rise from his seat at the news. “Impossible. Father, allow me to meet this stranger with Vhagar and we will put a stop to this false claim immediately.”

And ever the quickest to put his younger brother down, Aegon merely scoffed, the liquor making it easier to spit vitriol at his own kin. “You’d only lose your head, trying to get in a pissy fight over whose dragon is bigger.”

”In case you forgot, there is no living dragon greater in size than Vhagar, brother,” Aemond seethed back. 

Despite the validity of Aemond’s words, Alicent found her fingers itching to pick at her nails once more. Regardless of whether the rumors were highly exaggerated or not, it was not worth confirming at the cost of Aemond’s life. Even if the mysterious beast did belong to one of the Blacks, Alicent knew better than to trust her son’s life in their hands. 

Before she could voice her own concerns, the ever-soft-hearted Viserys beat her to it. “We must not immediately assume that they are threats. For all we know, they could be allies. Family, even.”

”Or enemies,” Aegon muttered bitterly beneath his breath, no longer meeting Aemond’s one-eyed gaze. 

Despite the tension in the room, Helaena, her one and only daughter, smiled mysteriously, reaching for her younger brother's hand as she did. “Worry not, brother. For it is just a lost raven flying home to her nest.”

While Aemond seemed to relax at Helaena’s words, Alicent found herself even more anxious upon hearing them. What could the arrival of this unknown dragon rider mean for the kingdom? For her family?

For her children?

”Father,” Aemond said, all the while ignoring Alicent’s own troubled gaze, “tell us what you want to do.”

“Aerea, are you sure we’re going in the right direction?” Harleigh shouted over the wind. They had been flying for nearly a week now and Harleigh had already lost track of where they were going. It didn’t take a genius to recognize that they were heading for land, however.

The little ghost girl, on the other hand, did not at all seem concerned. She instead giggled, despite Balerion’s insulted grumble.

“Have some faith, speaker. If not in me, then in that silly stick magic of yours.”

It had taken some explaining for Aerea and Balerion to understand how her magic worked. And while the older beast seemed to have some familiarity with the overall concept, he had never come across magic like hers. 

Aerea was just thrilled at the fact magic even existed and had demanded a show every time she could. Harleigh had lost count of the sticks she set on fire just for the little girl’s amusement. 

”We’ve been flying by the coast for almost a day, Balerion. There must be something off with my magic.”

”A day flying is but a meager amount of time. For regular foot-walkers, it would take months to travel the same path we did,” Balerion countered.

Perhaps she had gotten too used to magical travel. But after seeing nothing but sand, grass, and shores, for a day, could you blame her?

“Almost there!” Aerea laughed, pointing at a tall cliff they were flying at. Harleigh recalled their little talks of Aerea’s original home. Of a grand castle’s stable the little ghost grew up in. Of a mother she never truly knew. Already, Harleigh began to dread just how that conversation of explaining Aerea’s precarious unliving status would go. Would Rhaena Targaryen be everything Aerea described her as? 

“Dragonstone! Home!”

With no choice but to trust Aerea and her excitement for a strangely large cliff, Harleigh simply held on tighter to Balerion’s reigns. Aerea, on the other hand, was laughing once more, overjoyed to see familiar land after what had been a long journey over the ocean.

Just as Harleigh was about to brace herself for another few hours of flight, a low growl immediately pulled itself from Balerion’s chest as he began to slow down. ”Another dragon is headed our way.”

”Maybe we can ask them for directions.”

Balerion merely huffed out an intimidating burst of smoke, though he didn’t seem entirely convinced. If anything, he seemed quite annoyed at the fact they were about to meet another of his kind. ”Let us find out.”

Never did Daemon Targaryen ever think that he would take to the skies alongside his nephew as anything other than enemies. But here he found himself on top of Caraxes, waiting alongside Aemond for their special guest to arrive.

Which makes sense, considering that said special guest was riding a dragon bigger than Vhagar herself. What better way to send a message than with not just one of their largest dragons, but two of them?

(He tried not to think of the implications—that maybe this could lead to a dragon fight that was years too early. Then again, his brother had sent him to meet peacefully with the mysterious rider and their beast, and he was reluctant to disobey him even now.)

“Uncle,” Aemond greeted neutrally, his singular eye watching Daemon carefully. “It’s good to see you.”

“I wish it was under better circumstances, nephew,” Daemon added charmingly. In place of the scarred little boy from years ago was a young man on the cusp of becoming a warrior—one that Daemon would have begrudgingly acknowledged had it not been for the threat he and his siblings posed to his wife.  Daemon did not miss how Aemond’s eye moved to the lying Dark Sister at his hip, but neither did he point it out as they heard a distant roar from his perch. “It looks like our guest has arrived.”

Already, a dark speck could be seen coming their way. From a distance, it did not look as threatening as the letters made them believe. But as the dragon got closer and closer, Daemon could see why he had been rushed out alongside his nephew to welcome their new guest.

Because it wasn’t just any bloody dragon being ridden by some unknown stranger. It was the long-lost Black Dread, Balerion–the very beast ridden by Aegon the Conqueror himself.

“Best let them land,” Daemon suggested, already pulling at Caraxes to make space for the guest. “It’ll be easier to talk that way.”

Aemond nodded, rubbing at Vhagar’s side. The she-dragon merely grumbled unhappily, clearly more antsy than usual. “Land, Vhagar!”

As the two Targaryens waited for the great beast to land, it was then they spotted Balerion’s rider already about to leap off from its back.

“Wait!” Daemon nearly shouted, only to be stopped when he saw the newcomer descend at a pace too slow to be real. At a pace that almost seemed–

–magical.

“Sorry if that scared you,” the rider laughed, revealing a sweet and feminine-sounding voice. It wasn’t until she pulled back her hood revealing dark hair and inhumanely green eyes that the rider was, in fact, a young woman. Almost too young to be riding something as ferocious as the Black Dread. “Would you happen to know the way towards Dragonstone from here?”

“Dragonstone, milady?” Aemond repeated, clearly baffled at the lack of decorum, greeting, and propriety from the brash girl. Was this really Balerion’s rider? The very same person who had nearly sent the entire Kingdom into preparations for a war? 

Eye-catching as she was for her age, she was just one person. And one who clearly didn’t grow up with the same manners or political intrigue that the rest of their family did.

Combing through her mess of hair, the girl nodded excitedly, ignorant to Daemon’s surprise at how unladylike she continued to act. “Yes! I’m trying to meet with the current Lady of Dragonstone.”

“The Lady of Dragonstone is my wife,” Daemon finally spoke. The confusion on the rider’s face was not entirely unexpected, though somewhat disarming. “I was not aware that she had set a meeting with you, lady...?”

“No titles, please. It’s Harleigh. Just Harleigh,” the woman filled in. “And you are?”

This was a first for Daemon. As a prince, he has never had to introduce himself before. Until now, it seemed. “Prince Daemon Targaryen, husband to Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen. And this is my nephew, Prince Aemond.”

“That’s strange. I was told a Princess Rhaena currently sits at Dragonstone.”

At the name, Daemon immediately bristled. “Lady Rhaena is my daughter. If you have any business with her, you will have to take it up with me first.”

The woman didn’t seem at all threatened by Daemon’s words, much to his chagrin. Rather, she seemed more confused than anything else. “Surely not. Princess Rhaena is at least your age if not older. And she doesn’t have a husband. Not anymore, at least.”

Realization seemed to bloom on Aemond’s face at Harleigh’s words. “You are speaking of Princess Rhaena, daughter of King Aenys.”

“Yes!” Harleigh exclaimed, delighted that someone had finally seemed to understand her. “Is she still at Dragonstone? If she’s moved somewhere else, it won’t be any trouble for us to fly there instead.”

“My Lady, Princess Rhaena Targaryen has been dead for nearly fifty years,” Aemond intoned carefully, watching the bothered girl with a careful eye.

“Fifty...fifty years?” The words didn’t seem to register at first. Harleigh looked to be at a loss, though Daemon noted how she turned her gaze to something they couldn’t see. “Then you and Balerion...”

Curious, Daemon decided to get the whole discussion and mystery over with. “So you know of the dragon, already. According to Targaryen history, the last person to have been seen riding Balerion was Princess Aerea Targaryen, who went missing nearly seventy years ago. If you don’t mind me asking, where exactly did you find a Targaryen dragon?”

Nothing had prepared Harleigh for the sudden interrogation by what she could only assume to be relatives of the ghost from the cursed kingdom. And Aerea, who was too heartbroken after learning of her mother’s death, was clearly of no help. The crying child had immediately run back under Balerion’s wing as soon as the questions had started, leaving Harleigh to face them on her own.

“I...I found him in this ruined city across the sea, one full of toxic air and smoke. Within the ruins, there was a cave. And in that cave was Balerion,” Harleigh answered, staying as close to the truth without giving too much information (or her lack thereof) away.

The two men shared a look as Daemon shook his head. Harleigh was quick to notice the menacing blade on his hip and how his hands never trailed too far from its hilt. “Old Valyria, then. So the rumors of Princess Aerea’s adventure were true.”

Harleigh perked up at that. They knew who Aerea was? Might they know about why she traveled to that cursed city? And how she ended up the way she is now?

“Still, it doesn’t explain how this woman survived that place. How could she have returned with Balerion when Princess Aerea did not?” The younger one wondered.

Before Harleigh could respond, she felt a warm breath on her back. ”I can feel my master’s pain. What exactly did these idiots say to make her feel so? ” An annoyed Balerion asked, causing Harleigh to flinch once she realized that he had leaned over to better speak with her.

”According to these men, Aerea’s mother is dead. Or has been for at least fifty years.”

”Hmmm...I cannot deny that they might be right. I was asleep much longer than that,” Balerion admitted, though that didn’t soften him to the two princes just yet. 

“What language are you speaking?” Aemond asked, his gaze now trained on her and her alone, rather than at the dragon at her back. While still polite, the one-eyed prince had been more interested and wary of the dragon at her back. His newfound interest might have been from how strange Parseltongue sounded coming from her lips.

“The language of snakes. It is the only one Balerion speaks, so it is how we communicate,” Harleigh explained, nudging at Balerion slightly when he gave a hissing chuckle. “How else would I have known he would let me ride him?"

”If you weren’t a speaker, I would have eaten you up when we met,” Balerion grumbled.

Harleigh hid her snort with a well-placed cough. ”Admit it, you’re growing on me.”

To that, Balerion nudged at Harleigh with his snout, causing her to trip. Harleigh didn’t let it go unpunished, however, and merely nudged his face away, before sticking her tongue out at him. Were dragons always this nosy? Or was that just a Balerion thing?

“You can...speak with Balerion?” Daemon said, clearly surprised. “Can you speak with other dragons as well?”

Harleigh shrugged, honestly unsure. “If the other dragons can speak the same language, I probably could.”

”Of course, you can,” Balerion snorted. ”That’s what being a speaker means.”

Immediately, the Daemon whistled, summoning a red-scaled beast to come closer. Despite it also clearly being a dragon, it looked different than Balerion with more horns and spikes across its head. Its teeth were oversized as well, looking more like fangs as they crowned its mouth. “Would you try speaking with Caraxes then?”

At the approaching Caraxes, Balerion immediately growled. ”Find your own speaker, yelp.”

Harleigh, on the other hand, merely nudged Balerion away, moving forward fearlessly to meet the blood-colored beast. ”Let me try, Balerion. Please.”

At the words leaving Harleigh’s lips, Caraxes immediately perked up and clamored forward to meet Harleigh. He was younger-sounding than Balerion, and held an excitement to him she never saw from the older beast. ”So you really are a speaker! And here I thought your kind all died in the Doom.”

”What do you mean by the Doom?” Harleigh asked.

Caraxes near-preened, clearly pleased at having gained her interest. ”It was the calamity that destroyed our home. Many dragons died that day. As did my rider’s people.”

”The city you found me and my master in is all that is left of Old Valyria,” Balerion explained, a lot more nonchalantly than the younger beast. ”I was only a few years old when my master’s ancestors escaped.”

“What are they saying?” The younger rider cut in impatiently.

“They’re talking about some event called the Doom. Supposedly, the toxic lands we had just come from were the remains of Old Valyria. Caraxes said it was where many of your people and your dragons died. Balerion also says he was young when your ancestors escaped it,” Harleigh answered, reiterating everything she had just heard. ”I suppose it tracks with everything I’ve seen on the way here, but there has to be more to that burning city than just that. I wonder…”

Despite Daemon’s attempts to hide it, she could see a new gleam in his eyes, one she couldn’t pinpoint, as he began to speak in another language she couldn’t understand. “We must bring her back to meet my brother. He will want to know of this.”

“How do we know we can trust her?”

“Better with us and our dragons in case she does betray us, don’t you think?” the older one merely responded, earning a hesitant shrug from Aemond.

“In that case,” Daemon spoke, returning to a language Harleigh could understand, “perhaps it might be better if you would come with us to meet the King himself. That way, we can all have our questions properly answered.”

Spotting Aerea still red-eyed and teary while curled up under Balerion’s wing, the very girl whose life and death remained a mystery, Harleigh relented with a careful nod. “Right. I’ll follow your lead then…uhhh, Prince Daemon.”

It was hard coming back to the Red Keep, Rhaenyra thought. To the castle that cursed her for her gender. To the home that was taken from her by one she once called her friend and by those she may have, once upon a time, even considered family. 

But those troubles were abysmal in the light of her true fear, one that started back when she was a little girl caught sneaking out to fly on Syrax, only to continue later on when she found herself forced into a marriage out of her control. Nothing scared the Princess more than the possibility of truly disappointing her father. (Unless, perish the thought, she always was a disappointment from day one.)

“Father,” a nervous Rhaenyra called out, hands shaking as she closed the King’s parlor door behind her. It had been seven years since she had last come to the capital, two years since she had birthed her second son with Daemon. And yet despite having sent multiple letters her father’s way, not once had he ever called her back. No ravens ever came for her from her father. Not until now.

“My child,” a weakened Viserys smiled from his seat. The sight made Rhaenyra’s heart clench, seeing how much her father had deteriorated in the past few years. He was visibly struggling to get up, body shaking and relying heavily on his cane. The sores on his hands and arms were bare and bleeding, pustules of yellow and black taking over the healthy skin like an infection. 

“You must rest, Kepa. Do what you can to save your strength,” Rhaenyra pleaded, any resentment or fear flying out the window as she tried to help her still-smiling father sit down once more. “If I had known it was this bad, I would have come sooner. I should have-“

Viserys did not let Rhaenyra finish and instead reached for her arm with a weak hand. “No. It was I who should not have turned you away. I was too blinded in my anger to listen to you. If I were a better man and father, I would have called you home sooner rather than under circumstances like this.”

“Even so, I am happy it has brought me back to you. We will be fine as long as we stand together,” Rhaenyra assured, wiping the sweat off her father’s brow as she did. She didn’t want to waste what little time they had thinking of their past fights and mistakes. “Daemon has already sent word of the dragon and its rider. To think that Balerion had survived all these years. When I was younger, I remember you used to tell me stories about him and the missing Princess Aerea.”

The old king chuckled as Rhaenyra moved to take the seat beside him. His hands were mindlessly fiddling with another dragon-headed piece he had plucked from his model of Old Valyria moments before. “I remember it being a favorite story of yours, even though your mother always feared it to be cursed. But it never stopped you from wanting to hear more.”

“It was the charm of the mystery, I think,” Rhaenyra admitted, somewhat abashed. “I used to think that I could fly to Old Valyria and find Princess Aerea myself.” 

At that, her father laughed. “Queen Alysanne once thought the same, you know. After Princess Rhaena died, she had been so plagued with guilt that she was ready to fly to Old Valyria herself if it meant bringing Princess Aerea home.”

“But it wasn’t her fault,” Rhaenyra pointed out. “According to the books, it was Princess Rhaena who drove Princess Aerea away. Not Queen Alysanne.”

“Perhaps. But that guilt never left my grandmother, not even in death. We’ll never really know why, but I can only guess that there was always more to the story than we really know,” her father hummed, eyes lost as they stared blankly ahead. “Why else would she always go to Dragonstone for years on end? No matter how many times she returned to the Keep, she was always hesitant to leave, as if something on the island was making her stay. It almost makes me wonder...”

There was a look of slight doubt on Rhaenyra’s face at her father’s reminiscing. “Makes you wonder what, Kepa?”

“Well,” Viserys added with an afterthought, “it almost makes me wonder if Queen Alysanne was, in fact, waiting all this time for the lost princess to come back.”

Chapter Text

When Harleigh agreed to follow the two princes back to their home, she had hoped that the journey would give a poor tear-ridden Aerea the necessary time to recover from the news of her mother. The little ghost had been struck silent for most of their ride, much to Harleigh’s worry. But that only lasted up until they saw a large city appear on the horizon. 

Prince Aemond called it ‘King’s Landing’, otherwise known as the home to the ruling family of Westeros. Prince Daemon, on the other hand, had not been so poetic, describing the majestic city as a shit-smelling cesspit.

The closer they got to the city, the more Harleigh began to see (and smell) just why the older prince had called it so.

As they landed right at its gates, there already was a crowd beginning to form. People she could only assume were outside of Aerea’s family, based on their lack of distinct coloring. Still, she could already tell most of them were men wearing strange robes, bald, and already poised at Caraxes’ side as soon as the younger beast landed. 

“My lady,” one of their older men–a dragonkeeper, Prince Daemon offhandedly mentioned—was shouting from the nearest crowd, eyeing Balerion with a cautious gaze. Harleigh had just slid down from his shoulder when she realized that he was, in fact, talking to her. “Let us take your dragon. We can chain him down with the others.”

“You dare—“

Before Balerion could outright attack the bald keeper, Harleigh felt her own temper rise at the downright abhorrent request. Flashes of Gringotts and a sickly-looking dragon flooded her mind as she barely held back from jinxing the man herself. “I’m sorry…but what did you just say?”

The man simply repeated himself, no longer staring dubiously at Balerion, but rather condescendingly at Harleigh instead. “We must chain your dragon down, my lady. It would be dangerous to have him escape. He may eat the livestock or the common folk.”

Sweet little Aerea, who had been standing at her side, looked absolutely stricken. ”Bal…chains?” 

“No chains,” Harleigh reiterated, uncaring of the old man’s reddening face. “If this is how you plan to treat Balerion, I’m not having any of you so much as get within ten feet of him. He’s not just some beast for you to lock up at your will!”

“You do not know enough about these creatures to make that decision, girl. Just because he has not snapped at you yet, doesn’t mean he won’t soon. He is a dragon, not a pet.”

Before Harleigh could retort, or worse, outright attack the man for such a suggestion, Prince Daemon strode over to intercept. “Dragonkeeper, I would suggest you take a step back. You do not know what you’re dealing with.”

”I would disagree, my prince,” the keeper tried to argue back, still haughty but more subdued in front of the prince. “It has been our duty to care for your family’s dragons since the time of King Jahaerys.”

“And Balerion has been gone for just as long, if not even longer than you dragonkeepers have been alive. He answers to no one but his rider,” Daemon snapped in return. “I highly doubt a beast as old as he would allow anyone to approach right now. But by all means, please, do try risking your life if that is what you wish. If something does happen…”

That at least finally got the keeper to back down somewhat. Balerion huffed, glancing at the Prince with approval. ”If these peasants think of separating me from the speaker any time soon, I’ll burn them to a crisp.”

Aerea seemed to find Balerion’s words silly, though Harleigh highly doubted the little ghost knew just how serious her partner was about the threat. It didn’t lessen the witch’s panic at Balerion’s recklessness whatsoever. 

“No one is taking you away, Balerion. Look,” Harleigh turned to Prince Daemon, unwilling to move out of the way between the dragon and everyone else there, “I know I’m supposed to meet your King, but Balerion isn’t going to let me leave his side any time soon.”

”Or ever.” 

What mattered right now was making sure Balerion didn’t get all trigger-happy around the people around them. Luckily, Daemon didn’t look at all insulted at her request. “Not to worry. I’ve sent Prince Aemond back to the castle to inform them of our…situation, which means my brother should be here soon.”

She would have sighed in relief had Daemon not started pointedly looking over her shoulder with distant amusement. ”In the meantime, if you could keep Balerion from burning the Dragonkeepers…”

For Merlin’s sake. What the bloody hell was that overgrown lizard doing now? 

”Balerion!” 

“Balerion, the Black Dread…lives!”

It was the only thing anyone could talk about as her father’s retinue left for the gates. And to be honest, Rhaenyra couldn’t blame them.

When her younger half-brother had arrived with news of the Black Dread finding a new master, she had been expecting someone bearing features much like hers. Maybe stark white locks and some variation of Valyrian bejeweled-colored eyes. But as she hastened to the Dragonpit alongside her father, she was met with the exact opposite. 

A gaze of startling green so bright that it seemed almost piercing. And her hair…when has there ever been a dragon rider with hair as dark as night? 

“That must be her. The beast’s new rider,” someone nearby whispered in awe. Yet barely any approached the unassuming girl. And for good reason. 

Only time would tell if she was a friend or foe. 

Seeing none of Alicent’s own children amidst their group gave her some comfort, at least. Knowing that none of their children would take part in this gave Rhaenyra the focus she needed for this meeting with the mysterious rider. 

Her more cynical side, the same part of her that had sent Laenor away, wondered what this would mean for her own family. Would seeing another rider without the typical Targaryen coloring be beneficial to her own claim? To her sons? 

Or would this woman’s sudden appearance be the one that doomed her claim to the throne? 

Rhaenyra watched as the woman approached, wearing a bright red cloak that seemed to separate her from the family of blacks and greens. For a moment, Rhaenyra wondered whether that shade of red would look better amongst her own brood of black or the greens of Otto’s. 

True to Daemon’s word, his family arrived in less than an hour. Just enough time for her to calm Balerion down before the aforementioned group finally arrived at the gates. 

Notably within the group was this strange color scheme of green and black. And while Harleigh was somewhat intrigued by the clear division between this supposed family, it was the King himself that caught Harleigh’s eye.

Given how inhumanely beautiful the Targaryen people seemed to be, Harleigh expected to be met with a King of similar stature. Instead, she was met with the pitiful form of a man who looked more dead than alive.

“King Viserys Targaryen, First of his Name, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, and Protector of the Realm!”  A powerful slew of titles, no doubt, but definitely not one she expected to pair with the image of a man clearly riddled with rot. 

For Merlin’s sake, the King could barely even hold onto his cane. 

“You must be the rider we’ve all been hearing about. Lady Potter, yes?” Viserys greeted, eyes still sharp despite the rest of his body being unable to keep up. “It’s an honor to meet Balerion’s new chosen rider.” 

“Potter. That is a peasant name, is that not?” A whisper called out, but from where, Harleigh could not tell. 

“Lady Potter, it is with great pride that we welcome you to King’s Landing. I am King Viserys. This is my daughter, Princess Rhaenyra,” Viserys introduced first, pointing at the white-haired woman to his right. The brunette at his left frowned slightly, but such went unnoticed by King. “My wife, Queen Alicent. And my Hand, Otto Hightower.” 

Harleigh noted how the Hand at Viserys’ left, stepped closer to his wife. It was clear that the two were close, if not actually related to each other. 

The king’s eyes moved to the dragon at her back with a look of awe, one that did not escape Harleigh’s or the rest of the King’s entourage. “Prince Aemond has already informed me that you found the Black Dread in Old Valyria. But tell me, Lady Harleigh, how exactly were you able to find him there?”

Before Harleigh could speak to admit that she honestly didn’t know anything , she felt a tug on her leg that could only be Aerea. “Tell them you felt a calling. A calling from Balerion himself,” the ghost whispered.

“I...felt a call,” Harleigh started, swallowing nervously as she did. Let it be said that even now, she could still feel the back of her hand tingle every time she struggled with lies. “And when I followed it, it led me to this ruined city where the air was too poisonous to breathe. It was there I found Balerion sleeping.”

“So you went to Old Valyria, survived long enough to find a dragon, then somehow convinced it to bring you all the way across the ocean and back here. To Westeros,” Otto recounted carefully, clear disbelief in his voice. Amidst the rest of the white-haired family, his graying tufts of brown hair and dark green coat made him stand out like a sore thumb. “That’s fortunately auspicious, don’t you think?”

“Otto, don’t-“ Viserys tried to call out, only to fall into a coughing fit. One that his suspiciously young wife immediately moved forward to aid with. “Thank you, Alicent.”

“The bond between dragon and rider is not something you can question, Sir Otto,” Rhaenyra spoke, drawing Harleigh’s focus to her own bright starlight locks and brilliant blue gaze. Standing beside Daemon, Harleigh could only guess that the King’s daughter must also have been Prince Daemon’s aforementioned wife. 

But surely the King’s daughter…couldn’t be his brother's…wife, right? 

The sharp words and authority in the princess’ voice didn’t seem to faze Otto, however. “Balerion is a Targaryen dragon, is he not? Therefore, he belongs to the royal family.”

Balerion, bless his soul, looked ready to snap at the older man. And much to Harleigh’s exasperation, Aerea didn’t seem to take the man’s implied threat as anything beyond a joke. 

Not wanting to start another altercation, Harleigh stepped forward to keep everyone’s eyes on her instead. “Dragons do not belong to anyone, sir,” Harleigh retorted. “They are beings with their own minds and are not meant to be controlled.”

“The Lady Harleigh is right. You had best stay out of Targaryen matters you do not understand,” Daemon snidely remarked as he made his way to Viserys’ side. Rhaenyra immediately reached for his arm as if to hold him back. But that didn’t stop Daemon’s sneer. “Sir Hightower .”

“Even you must admit there is something suspicious about all of this. No one is supposed to be able to withstand the ruins of Old Valyria. Nearly everyone who goes there dies,” Otto pointed out, eyes glaring at the smirking Prince.

“Forgive Lord Otto for his phrasing, but I too have a similar question,” Viserys intoned curiously. “How exactly did you survive your journey through Old Valyria, Lady Harleigh? Last we knew, the land had become near inhospitable. It is said no one could ever survive it.”

Finally, a question she could honestly answer. 

“I survived it by using magic, of course.”

A bomb of silence filled the air at her answer. While most of Viserys’ group seemed more shocked than anything, it was Alicent’s look of absolute revulsion and disbelief that concerned Harleigh the most.

She had thought that a family of dragon-riding royals would know of magic. But based on how everyone seemed to be unable to speak at her reveal, she was clearly wrong.

“Apologies, but I thought that as a family with close ties to dragons, you would be familiar with the concept of magic,” Harleigh attempted as an apology. And while she tried to keep her aura non-threatening, she kept her hand at the ready to grab her wand in case something less savory happened.

Daemon didn’t seem as concerned, thankfully. Though, to be fair, both he and Aemond had witnessed her jumping off Balerion’s back with nothing but a simple levitation spell to slow her fall. 

Viserys, bless his soul, was the quickest to recover. “No need, Lady Harleigh. It’s just that, while we may have ties to magic through our dragons, we ourselves are unfamiliar with any sort of magic that could have let you survive the dangers of Old Valyria.”

“To be fair, I wouldn’t call it surviving, really. Magic may have let me explore it for a good while, but I highly doubt that even I could withstand that place for long.”

‘Especially with how many ghosts there were.’ As friendly as Aerea was, she highly doubted the others would be the same.

“Still, I never thought I’d live to see the day that I would meet one of your kind. A magic user of Old Valyria,” Viserys noted, quite excitedly. While Harleigh winced at Viserys’ words, she didn’t outright correct him either. “The last magic user of our family was Queen Visenya…I’ve heard stories about magic users, but never did I think that those like you still existed. Tell me, what can you do?”

Harleigh turned to Aerea who was now pulling on her cloak. With a quick whisper that only she and Balerion could hear, Harleigh found herself smiling at the young ghost’s request. 

“Let me show you.” Harleigh brandished her wand, and with a quick flick, a burst of light came forth. “ Expecto Patronum. ”

There was no way for Daemon to describe it, except that upon Harleigh’s strange words, he was immediately filled with a feeling of warmth he had never felt before. It was a strange sense of joy and relief, all bundled up into one. So despite having reached for his sword at Harleigh’s sudden magic, he couldn’t help but relax upon feeling the effects of the strange magical light dancing around the room. 

From the light, a creature with wings seemed to form. As it made its way across the room, passing by each and every royal family member in the pit, it began to take the form of a–

“—dragon! How wonderful!” Viserys crowed. Even Alicent, who had been repulsed by Harleigh’s words, seemed speechless at the strange light that seemed to bless joy onto everyone there. 

Rhaenyra too seemed to be in a similar boat, mouth hanging open as her blue gaze followed the magic light. There was a bright sense of wonder in her eyes that Daemon had not seen for many years. One that he hadn’t realized he had sorely missed until now. 

Where had her youthful curiosity, the precious realm’s delight, been all this time? 

It was Otto’s gaze, however, that worried Daemon the most. While equally shocked, he was the only one staring at Harleigh with newfound interest. One that made him tense uncomfortably.

He did not like that hungry look in his gaze.  

“Amazing!” Viserys cried out as he reached out to touch the dragon. “This magic of yours…I almost feel free of pain.” 

Both Rhaenyra and Alicent seemed to pipe up at that. Even Daemon could not deny that he felt some pleasant surprise from his older brother’s words. 

“Really, Father? Truly?” “You feel better, my Lord?” At their simultaneous comments, both women glanced at each other only to immediately look away. In Daemon’s eyes, it was uncannily similar to moments of their childhood, one when they were still joined at the hip, and mindless chatter followed their every waking step. 

Always speaking over each other, only to realize that they were wanting of the exact same thing. 

“This is a Patronus. It is built on happy memories and is capable of ridding one of sadness and despair,” Harleigh explained. While Daemon himself did not find the magic itself as intriguing as his brother did, even he had to admit some interest in Harleigh’s strange abilities. “In some cases, if the memory is strong enough, it is said that it can even cause momentary physical relief.”

“Your magic is…amazing, Lady Potter. And to think that such a gift would manifest in you…the first, since the Age of the Conquerors themselves,” Viserys pondered. The implication was loud and clear enough, however, and shared glances between blacks and greens flew over the sickly king’s head. “Tell me, child, who are your parents?”

“No one important. They died when I was just a babe.” Which was true from what Daemon could tell, leaving Harleigh even more confused at the sudden question. “I’m sorry, but how is that relevant?” 

‘It’s relevant because my sick and slightly delusional brother thinks you might actually be family.’ Daemon silently noted, strangely amused at the entire spectacle. In any other situation, Daemon too would have had the same reservations as the Hand. But seeing Otto’s reaction made him want to support the idea all the more, if just to see Otto sputter like a fool. 

“I do not think I’ve ever recalled a moment in the past year where I’ve been as…unburdened as I am now,” Viserys smiled sadly, eyes startling clear for once. “I’ve never felt so much hope before.”

“If you would like, I could also try to see what my magic could do for you. I’m not very skilled in the healing arts, but I do know some basics.” 

Rhaenyra seemed absolutely bolstered at Harleigh’s offer. The only one who could’ve possibly matched her happiness then and there was the Queen. 

“We would be absolutely grateful for any efforts on your part, Lady Potter,” Rhaenyra spoke, sharing a hesitant look with Alicent as she did. Though Alicent seemed hesitant at first, the moment Viserys reached for her hand, she seemed to be a lot more resolved. “In that case, perhaps we should move this conversation to the King’s private chambers.” 

Before the others could move, however, a disgruntled and clearly displeased snarl filled the air. 

Right. He had nearly forgotten about Balerion.

Before she knew it, Harleigh found herself stuck behind the imposing wing of Balerion alongside Aerea, who was now squealing as the dragon swept them into his large, and uncharacteristically gentle, hold. 

“I know you don’t want to be parted, but Balerion, this is Aerea’s family. Her home!” Harleigh tried to appease, spitting out hisses in what she hoped would be comforting. “Would you be so cruel as to refuse her the chance to see what has become of them?” 

Even Aerea paused from her giggling, now tugging on Balerion’s wing so that she might move the great beast out of the way. But being able to feel his rider’s physical presence only aggravated the dragon’s instincts even more. “I have been separated one too many times from my Master! And if you leave, so does she!” Balerion growled. 

Before Harleigh could try reassuring the dragon, she could hear a distant shout from behind Balerion’s wing. Daemon’s voice, she vaguely recognized. “Is this about you leaving him again?” 

“Unfortunately, yes. Balerion does not appreciate the idea of being parted, apparently,” Harleigh called back, rubbing at the deepening furrow between her brow. “If I promise to come back tonight with Aerea, will that make you feel better?”

“Not enough.” Balerion snorted out a puff of smoke, regarding Harleigh now with a careful eye. “ You may treat the sick one if you wish, but tonight, you will stay with me. And every night thereafter. I will not be able to rest unless I know that my Master is safe.”

Harleigh sighed, finding no energy or reason to argue at the worry in Balerion’s tone. “Balerion says he’ll let me go, but only if I come back every night. He won’t let me sleep anywhere else.”

“So you will sleep out here then?” Alicent gasped, clearly appalled at the idea. Which had its merits, Harleigh supposed, considering that even outside the gates, she could still smell the city’s horrible stench.

“I refuse to stay anywhere near this foul-smelling place. Besides, I don’t want those brats sniffing around you,” Balerion hissed. It was then Harleigh remembered that while Vhagar was no longer there, Caraxes was still a good distance away. Though perhaps not far enough for Balerion’s liking. “I’ll have to find us a safe place to stay.”

“And here I thought you only liked me because I was a speaker.”

“Don’t get cocky,” Balerion grumbled back, finally receding and allowing her to pass through. “I expect you to be back by these gates by sundown, speaker. Both you and my master.”

As soon as Harleigh came into view of the strange dragon-riding family once more, she began sharing Balerion’s stipulations, albeit without the ghostly details or rude remarks. “Balerion said he’d let me go with you, but only if I’d be back here by sundown. He doesn’t really like the idea of being far from me for too long. Possessive grandpa,” she joked. 

Balerion, however, had clearly heard her. For when he moved to take to the skies, he was careful to aim each flap of his wings at Harleigh’s general direction, causing her to stumble onto the floor. 

“I deserved that,” Harleigh admitted to herself as she watched Balerion fly away from under his shadow. As endearing as it was to have Balerion worry over both her and Aerea, surely such paranoia was unwarranted. For one, Aerea was a ghost and hardly needed any protection. And it wasn’t like Harleigh was defenseless on her own. 

Besides, if they truly were Aerea’s blood relatives and the last remnants of her family…well, how bad could they honestly be?

“You never told me she was a speaker,” Viserys spoke, tone somewhat accusing. Upon returning to the castle, he and Daemon had settled in the King’s private chambers while their respective wives had both decided to bombard the magic user with a wardrobe change, leaving the two brothers to confer their thoughts over Viserys’ model of Old Valyria. 

Viserys, despite his ailing body, is sharp enough to catch Daemon’s slip. Not that Daemon intended to keep such information from him, for Daemon will always defer to his older sibling if need be, but that didn’t mean he trusted the people Viserys surrounded himself with. 

“I thought it was better to discuss it in private. Away from prying ears and eager eyes. Magic is one thing. But this ability…this is a family matter, is it not?”

As manipulative as it might seem to say such things to soften his brother, there was some truth in Daemon’s words. There was no way that an ability to communicate with dragons could exist in anyone who didn’t have some sort of relation to Old Valyria, if not House Targaryen itself.  

His brother, thankfully, seemed to begrudgingly agree. “I used to think that speakers were just things of legend. Even before the Doom, that ability was so rare that those born with it were considered blessed . The fact that she exists, that Balerion still lives , is nothing short of a miracle.” 

Daemon noted how his brother’s tone turned almost reverent, but didn’t comment on it. While he was not as familiar with the stories as his wife and brother were, he always knew that the Crown wouldn’t let just some mysterious woman keep the largest dragon in existence to herself. And now that everyone knew of her abilities, there was no chance House Targaryen would ever let her go now. 

“You already plan to present her at court then, I presume?” Daemon asked, though it sounded more like a statement. 

“She is family,” Viserys nodded sagely, lifting one of the dragon figures that once sat at the foot of the model’s largest tower with a strange look on his face. “She deserves all that House Targaryen can provide her. Whether that is safety, refuge, or a place to call home. It would be cruel for us to deny her such.”

“Have you consulted the Small Council on this matter?” The question came out almost bitter as Daemon recalled all those times that they voted him down. It would not do to have them sink their nails into Lady Harleigh when she was still fresh and new at court. 

At that Viserys snorted. “This is a matter of House Targaryen, not the crown. They have no say in my decision in regards to matters like this. Besides, I intend to have our entire family here for Lady Harleigh’s debut in court. It would be a good show of strength and unity.” One that our family sorely needs , goes unsaid.

“She doesn’t know of her heritage,” Daemon warned, recalling his last conversation with the young girl. “There would be no way for us to trace which Targaryen line she belongs to. If we are to present her at court, how would we justify her bloodline?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Viserys hummed, fingers now moving the dragon figure to sit on the highest peak of his model. “The last rider Balerion ever had was Princess Aerea Targaryen.” 

“So Lady Harleigh must be a descendant of hers. One who was lucky enough to receive the gifts of Old Valyria upon her birth,” Daemon said, tone somewhat incredulous but impressed by his brother’s idea. While there was little evidence to back such a case, the idea had its merits. It would not be entirely disputable and would only give even more credence to Harleigh’s existence. 

Most importantly, this would give Harleigh the relation she needed to be added into the Targaryen fold, but without being a direct threat to his brother and wife. The descendant of a long lost princess held little claim to the throne. 

Not that he expected his brother to consider such a thing. It was more of an unexpected boon than anything intentional. 

“She is family, Daemon,” Viserys repeated, voice suddenly sharp. He was no longer staring blankly at his model and was instead glaring at him with startling clear eyes. Even with the sores, pus, and the bitter smell of medicine, the sudden strength in his brother made Daemon pause. “And members of our family are not meant to be used as pawns in your games. In the end, the only thing that can tear down House Targaryen is itself. You, of all people, should understand that.”

After all he had done to protect his wife, his brother’s most precious daughter, when the King himself did nothing as the Greens forced her into unofficial exile—the irony of his brother’s words made Daemon nearly scoff.

‘I already do. But do you?’

There used to be a time when Alicent feared dragons. And how could she not? Growing up, the Maester’s would always warn her and the other Hightower children of how dangerous these creatures were. They were fire and fury given form. A scientific impossibility. A crime against the balance of nature that should not exist.

But they did. And nothing the Citadel said could logically explain their existence or House Targaryen’s ability to control them.

Thankfully, it was not Alicent’s job to make sense of magic, dragons, and madness. But if magic is what would save her husband from his illness and her children from an impending war, then she would give the witch a chance—gods, Citadel, and the Septons be damned. 

“You would look fine in this one, don’t you think? It brings out your eyes,” Alicent offered, bringing out an old gown of hers that she used to wear earlier in her marriage to Viserys. Back then, she wasn’t much older than Harleigh, from what she could tell, so the bright green silks and lovely corset would fit her perfectly. 

It also helped that Alicent found the color to be quite…fitting on her. Green would truly suit her best, would it not?

Harleigh, who was sitting in front of a large silver mirror, smiled, though her eyes never left the dress in Alicent’s hands. There was a look on her face that Alicent couldn’t place, one that almost seemed wary. Before she could think on it further, however, Harleigh was already shaking her head with a sheepish smile. 

“I appreciate your kindness, your Majesty. But I do not think you should be wasting your fine gowns on me,” Harleigh replied, wincing as two of Alicent’s own handmaidens futilely tried to braid the girl’s curly locks into submission. “Besides, isn’t this a bit too much? I know Balerion has a history with House Targaryen, but I’m just a guest at best. I’ll be fine wearing what I have now.”

Alicent shook her head at the thought. Harleigh’s presentation at court was meant to be happening in a few hours, seeing as Viserys had already called nearly every Great House representative following the news of an unknown dragonrider. Fortunately, that rider happened to be Harleigh. So rather than hosting a War Council to deal with the threat, Viserys had upended the entire castle to host a presentation feast for the long-lost Targaryen instead. 

Though it seemed like the Targaryen girl in question didn’t seem all too aware of that.

“Nonsense. I haven’t worn these dresses in years and I’d rather they go to good use with you,” Alicent tried to say. “These will suit you just fine.”

“Oh? But would black not suit her better still?”

All heads turned towards the opened chamber doors, revealing a smiling Rhaenyra holding a gown so dark that it looked like a shadow in her arms. Alicent felt her smile dip as she realized that it was the same dark gown the Princess once wore against the green one in her arms. 

Now, as they stood in front of each other, holding their respective colors close, the entire room was left at a standstill. Even her handmaidens immediately paused from their work and scampered out of the room, knowing better than to get caught in the crossfire. 

“Princess Rhaenyra,“ Harleigh tried to greet her, stumbling into a clumsy bow. 

“Good daughter,” Alicent said, eyes turning away from Harleigh and her falter. There would be time to teach her proper manners later. Preferably after Rhaenyra had been dealt with. “I didn’t know you would be coming to help us with Lady Harleigh. My lord husband mentioned that you would be busy with your…children.” 

After years of cold shoulders and painfully silent dinners, the jab was automatic and not something Alicent had completely meant. Still, it was clearly felt by the older Princess who’s smile turned sharp.

“I’ve always trusted my older sons to care for the younger ones. House Targaryen always protects its own,” Rhaenyra said off-handedly, though her pointed look didn’t escape Alicent. Or Harleigh, it seemed. “Which is why it’s good I came when I did. Don’t you think this would be better suited for you, Lady Harleigh?”

Despite her awareness of the brewing tension, Harleigh didn’t seem quite sure of how to treat the Princess’ double-edged words. “Uhhhh…thank you?”

‘Oh, child. This isn’t about you. Not really,’ Alicent thought with pity, but she didn’t dare voice it. 

Instead, Alicent got up, green gown in hand, and with a hidden barb ready on her tongue. “And leave her in such dreary colors? This is a happy event, not a funeral.” 

“Black has always been a color of House Targaryen—one that I still wear proudly,” Rhaenyra retorted, her own black skirts swishing against the stone floors as she took an angry step forward. They were mere arms away now, bright blue eyes glaring into deep brown, with a pair of confused green watching from the side.  

“Black and red,” Alicent said through gritted teeth, fingers digging into her dress unintentionally. “Despite what you might think, House Targaryen is more than just one shade, good daughter.”

That only seemed to anger Rhaenyra even more. “And green is one of them?”

At this point, she and Rhaenyra were inches apart now. It took everything in Alicent to not lash out. “Perhaps instead of forcing the House’s desires upon her, maybe we should let Lady Harleigh decide for herself. Wouldn’t you agree, Lady Harleigh?”

“Lady Harleigh?” No reply. It was at that moment Alicent finally tore away from Rhaenyra. 

Alicent paled as she saw the anger suddenly melt off Rhaenyra’s face. She, who should have been in view of Harleigh the entire time, only looked around in confusion. “Where did she go?”

Chapter Text

“What is up with this family? Seriously!” Harleigh grumbled as she followed Aerea’s giggling form down a narrow stone hallway, leading to who-knows-where. After seeing the two mothers go at each other with little care for her being there, she thought it best to leave the argument before they could drag her into it again. 

Aerea seemed to have the same idea, because as soon as the two women were occupied with each other, Harleigh could feel the ghost’s tiny hands tugging on her cloak, pulling her towards some secret passageway that wasn’t in the dressing room before.

If Harleigh didn’t know any better, she would have blamed it on magic, rather than ingenious architecture. Though after a bit of magical observation, she could sense some sort of enchantment over them. And a long-lived one, at that. 

Magic might not have built them, but magic was what kept them alive. And hidden . 

“How do you even know about this passage anyway?” It was dark and had been clearly unused for quite some time. Yet Aerea seemed quite familiar with it, going as far as skipping past multiple doors, intersections, and forks without much thought. 

Aerea giggled in reply, pressing a sneaky finger onto her lips. “Shhhhh….”

Harleigh chuckled as she let the young ghost continue leading her. “A secret, huh? Well, at least tell me where we’re going. What if we get lost?”

Instead of replying, Aerea came to a sudden stop. There was nothing around them, other than the castle stone. But before Harleigh could question it, Aerea suddenly knocked on a certain brick three times, causing the wall to suddenly shift and shake open, revealing…

‘...a garden?’ Harleigh wondered. ‘Since when did we make it outside?’

Aerea didn’t give Harleigh much time to ponder on it further before dragging her along, laughing all the while. She started pointing and mumbling at random flowers, butterflies, and other plants, switching mindlessly between the Targaryen family’s strange language (Valyrian, was it?) and English. It was too fast for Harleigh to comprehend, but as long as Aerea was happy, then she didn’t really mind. 

As they were about to go deeper into the gardens, they could suddenly make out the sound of even more laughter-one that clearly belonged to another child. Aerea didn't even give Harleigh a chance to react before pulling away and racing towards the general direction of that other voice.

“New friend!”

“Aerea! Wait!”

The excited ghost had already phased through the nearest wall before Harleigh could grab her hand again. Worried, Harleigh raced over, and after pushing some branches and bushes aside, she eventually found her way to the garden center, where a glistening stone fountain sat. Fruit trees and flowers of all colors and sizes surrounded the entire area, somehow able to mask the underlying stink of the city that permeated the rest of the castle. 

As beautiful as the scenery was, Harleigh’s attention was stolen by two laughing figures chasing each other around the fountain. It was Aerea, still as ghostly and bubbly as ever, running after a white-haired boy who couldn’t be much younger than her. Immediately, Harleigh relaxed, seeing no harm in letting the children play, even if the boy might not realize just who he was playing with. (Or playing with anyone at all, really.)    

“You’re it!” Aerea cried out victoriously, before racing away from the boy this time. To Harleigh’s surprise, the child immediately stopped to turn and chase Aerea with a gleeful shout, one that nearly overpowered Aerea’s own laughter. 

“Hey! Come back here!” 

Curious, Harleigh stepped closer, catching Aerea’s eye who then proceeded to hide behind her cloak with a happy squeal. “Harleigh, hide me! Before he catches me!”

Immediately, the boy came to a nervous stop upon seeing her. Green met a violet so dark, it almost looked black in the sunlight. But Harleigh could make out the color just barely. Paired with stark white locks, it was clear that he was another relative of Aerea’s. 

But that wasn’t what intrigued Harleigh. Rather, it was the fact that, unlike nearly everyone else, this boy could actually see Aerea. The first one of this world to do so. 

And wasn’t that just interesting?

“Hello there,” Harleigh greeted softly, slowly descending to her knees to meet the boy’s eye level. “I see you’ve met my friend. Not many people can see her, you know.”

The boy looked between her and the ghostly girl unsurely, but didn’t say a word. Instead of letting the silence grow, Harleigh continued to speak. “My name is Harleigh. What’s yours?”

It wasn’t until Aerea gave a more encouraging grin that the boy finally replied. “I…am Prince Aegon, my Lady. Prince Aegon Targaryen.”

His words came out somewhat stuttered and soft, but they didn’t deter Harleigh at all. “Well met, Prince Aegon. Thank you for playing with Aerea over here.” 

At that, young Aegon blushed, turning a bright red that clashed quite horribly with his hair. But in a cute and sort of endearing way. “It’s no trouble, my Lady.”

“Well then, Aerea? What should you say to thank Prince Aegon for playing with you?” Harleigh said, trying to draw out some polite words from her ghostly charge to respond to the boy’s own.

“More play!” Aerea demanded, drawing a startled laugh out of Harleigh. Prince Aegon immediately joined in, attempting to chase Aerea behind Harleigh’s cloak. The two began to scamper around her, even using her as a shield, before Aerea eventually tore off into the nearby grass. “Harleigh is the new dragon knight now! Run, Aegon! Run!”

That was all the warning Harleigh had before she too was drawn into their silly game. “Wait up, you two! I’m gonna get you, you little beasties!”

Unfortunately for Harleigh, she didn’t have the advantage of home territory and was stumbling around, jumping at every corner in hopes that she would find the hiding children. It wasn’t until she saw a large bush by the wall’s edge begin to shake that she began to smile. 

“Oh where, oh where could those dragons possibly be?” Harleigh sang aloud, to which the bush shook harder. With quiet steps, she began to tiptoe over, not wanting to scare them away. Once she was closer, enough so that there was no chance for Aerea and Aegon to escape, she pounced. “Got you!” 

But to her confusion, instead of finding two children, she found herself in the strong arms of an equally shocked and roguishly handsome young man, with dark eyes too soft for someone of his imposing build. It didn’t make his smooth grin any less charming, though.

“My Lady!? Are you alright?”

Jacaerys felt strange being back in King’s Landing. Which was ironic, considering there was once a time he might have called this place home. 

But nearly eight years have passed since his mother and their entire family left for Dragonstone. And now that they were called back under mysterious circumstances, along with two new younger brothers in stow, the Red Keep felt nothing like the castle of his childhood from before.

It felt…cold. And empty. The grand statues and tapestries that were symbolic of his family were gone as well, replaced by idols and art depicting different faces of the Seven. Familiar friendly faces that once lingered in these halls were now a scant few.

“I cannot be in two places at once. Which is why you must watch over the others while I am gone,” his mother had said right before leaving to entertain the new rumored rider of Balerion. “While this might be our home, that does not mean our family is safe. Do you understand me, Jace?”

The seriousness of his mother’s request had shaken the eighteen-year-old a bit, but nonetheless, he stood firm, as expected of the Crown Princess' firstborn. “Of course, Mother. I will do whatever it takes to protect my brothers.”

Which brings him to his current predicament, seeing as he’s already lost track of one of them. Aegon, to be exact, who upon realizing their mother had left them to help the King’s new guest, had somehow escaped his minders to explore the castle. With no other choice, Jacaerys had left Luke to watch over Joffrey and Viserys back in their mother’s old rooms before racing off to find the wandering child himself. 

But instead of finding his trouble-making younger brother, he found a girl, not too far from his age, who immediately fell into his arms like in one of those silly love songs. It took a moment for Jacaerys to remember to breathe as he lost himself in green –one much darker than Vermax’s own scales, but still unearthly hypnotizing nonetheless. 

“My Lady!?” Jacaerys asked worriedly as he helped the young woman to her feet. “Are you alright?”

The woman blushed, quickly disengaging herself from his arms in order to straighten out her crumpled cloak. “My apologies. I didn’t realize there were other people in the garden. You’re not hurt from catching me, are you?”

If Jacaerys were any lesser man, he would’ve taken the question as an insult to his strength. But upon seeing the genuine concern in her eyes, he knew that wasn’t the case. “I am perfectly fine, My Lady. Please, don't worry about me. It was truly no trouble.”

“You know,” the lady suddenly hummed, quite thoughtfully, “you sound a lot like this boy I just met just now. You wouldn’t happen to know him, would you? Bright white hair? Really dark violet eyes? About this small?” She finished with a motion of her hands to showcase the height. 

Before Jacaerys could confirm that this woman had indeed met his younger brother, they were interrupted by a high-pitched childish shriek. “I am not small! I’m big! The biggest dragon of them all!” 

Jacaerys’ eyes widened in shock as he saw Aegon run at her with tiny fists, his chubby face bright red and sweaty from having been running around. His immediate instinct was to pull Aegon away, seeing as this was no way a Prince should act in front of a lady. Before he could, however, Harleigh knelt on the dirty grass with a laugh, acting nothing like the ladies he’d met before. 

“My mistake, Prince Aegon. Clearly, you’re the most ferocious and terrifying dragon to grace these lands,” the lady giggled, affectionately tapping Aegon on the nose before ruffling the hair on his head. That would have probably scandalized every other royal in the city ( for who would dare act so casually with the Crown Princess’ own son? ), but upon seeing the happy grin on his brother’s face, Jacaerys found that he didn’t really care. “Did you have fun hiding from me?”

“Yes!” Aegon giggled, eyes glancing to the side, much to Jacaerys’ confusion. “Aerea and I explored the entire garden! She showed me all the secret hiding spots! For when we play again!”

The name sounded quite familiar, but Jacaerys couldn’t pinpoint from where he had heard it before. What more, there was no one else around them, save for Lady Harleigh. So who could this mysterious Aerea be?

“No wonder you were able to escape me so easily! I guess that makes you the winner, little beastie,” Harleigh said endearingly, finger gently poking at Aegon’s nose. 

“Did you hear that, Jace!? We won! We won the game!” Aegon crowed happily before jumping into his arms. 

Thanks to his reflexes, he was able to catch a laughing Aegon. If it had just been them, he would have swung the younger around, too, the same way he would at Dragonstone. But the green-eyed lady was still watching them, and it was rude to keep her waiting. “Good job, Egg! But shouldn’t you introduce me to your friend first?” 

Aegon immediately got back to his feet, sheepish and finally remembering his manners, it seemed. “This is my older brother, Prince Jacaerys Velaryon. Big Brother, this is Lady Harleigh and Aerea. They’re my new friends!”

At the second name, Jacaerys looked to Harleigh in confusion, but she was already nudging at Aegon jokingly while rising to her feet. “It’s good to meet you, Prince Jacaerys. I hope we didn’t trouble you because of our game.” 

The smile on Harleigh’s face didn’t change as she greeted him, much to Jacaerys’ relief. He had been expecting disgust or some sort of disdain, the same way many in court would stare at him and his lack of Valyrian coloring, but Harleigh didn’t seem fazed whatsoever.

Then again, she didn’t seem to care much for court propriety and politics. No bows, no curtsies, no anything . 

“Lady Harleigh, it is a pleasure to meet you.” Jacaerys greeted with a smile, taking Harleigh’s own soft hand into his in order to plant a soft kiss on top. It was only then that she blushed, much to Jacaerys’ curious bemusement. “Thank you for helping me find my brother. I’ve been looking for him at our Mother’s request.”

Aegon seemed to deflate at that. “Is Mother angry?”

“No, of course not,” Jacaerys assured him, not wanting to worry his little head over the truth. “Mother is just worried. You’ve never been to the Red Keep before. You shouldn’t wander off by yourself.”

“So I can’t come here to play anymore?” 

“Don’t worry, Prince Aegon. Maybe next time, if you bring your brother with you, we can play again. How’s that?” Harleigh offered. 

For a moment, Aegon seemed to pause, as if listening to someone, only to immediately start bouncing excitedly, much to Jacaerys’ confusion. “Aerea has a point! Jace is here with us now, isn’t he?”

“Big brother,” his younger brother suddenly pleaded, turning back to him. “Can we keep playing? Can we? Can we? Can we ? Please?”

At his younger brother’s imploring looks, paired with Lady Harleigh’s soft eyes, Jacaerys felt there was only one answer. “Fine. But don’t go too far where we can’t see you, alright? That means no hiding spots. That goes for you, too, Aerea,” he jokingly said, before winking at Aegon conspiratorially. 

Something in Harleigh’s gaze seemed to change after that. And while Jacaerys might pretend he mostly did it for Aegon’s sake, he would be lying if he said he didn’t do it to get the mysterious beautiful lady to smile at him once again. 

“Don’t you think you’re overreacting?” Aegon grumbled at his younger brother, deep into his cups; but not deep enough if he was still sober enough to recognize the anger and resentment in his younger brother’s eye. As much as he appreciated the refreshing scent of the flowers when drinking, he should have known better than to enjoy his wine by windows nearest to the gardens. “She’s just some girl. So what if the bastard fancies her?”

Unfortunately for the drunk prince, that was the wrong thing to say. 

“Idiot. Do you not realize why the entire castle is in disarray? Or why our father suddenly demanded the War Council be turned into some stupid feast?” Aemond snarked, his single eye never leaving the laughing forms of the two young adults below.

Aegon snorted uncaringly. “I don’t know. To celebrate the fact that there isn’t a war, maybe?”

“It’s for her,” Aemond suddenly revealed. “Father isn’t just holding any sort of celebration. Mother says he intends to present her at court. As a Targaryen.”

At that Aegon hummed, somewhat thoughtful, but still dizzy enough that there wasn’t any true coherent thought to his words. “So she’s another bastard. A bastard with a bastard. It’s almost too perfect, don’t you think?”

“She rides Balerion. She’s been to Old Valyria. And she can speak with dragons,” Aemond huffed. If Aegon weren’t so out of it, he would have even thought that he sounded defensive, if not outright insulted. “Are you seriously not seeing how important she is to our family? To our House?” 

“Then just marry the damn girl and be done with it already,” Aegon said half-jokingly. “Maybe that way, you can at least get over this damn jealousy of yours.”

Aemond immediately bristled at that. “I’m not jealous. I–I just–”

Aegon watched his younger brother with an amused eye as he seemed to stammer. The last time he saw Aemond this speechless was before he claimed Vhagar. 

And that was an entire era ago. 

“–I just don’t understand why she’s laughing and smiling with him, ” Aemond finally huffed. “He should be groveling at her feet.”

Aegon watched as his aforementioned nephew and the mysterious rider of Balerion continued to talk jovially, uncaring of the world around them. Despite his nephew’s bastardy status, even Aegon could not deny that the two made quite a picturesque couple. 

“She’s a pretty girl. And he’s a young handsome man. Why else do you think a bastard would be trying to get the attention of someone like her?” The rhetorical remark comes out harsher than Aegon intended. But with the alcohol now kicking in, he was honestly too drunk to care. “You’ll just have to be quicker next time, lest you lose to our darling nephew again. But don’t worry. Once he’s had his fun, I’m sure he’ll leave some second pickings to spare.” 

That seemed to be the last straw for his younger brother, because before Aegon could even get another word in, Aemond was already storming out of the room with a new mission in mind. 

Perhaps if he were more sober, Aegon wouldn’t have goaded the younger Targaryen so much. But then again, he didn’t ask for Aemond to interrupt his drinking time. This was just as much on him in Aegon’s mind, at least. 

Oh well. If he’s lucky, maybe this will be some good entertainment…that is, assuming he wouldn’t be absolutely sloshed by the time Aemond made it downstairs.

Somewhere else inside the palace, Rhaenyra was storming through the halls like a bull on a rampage. Typically, as her father’s firstborn daughter, she would have waited at the doors until the stationed Kingsguard could announce her entrance, before entering with as much grace as expected of the Crown Princess.

Instead, here she was, scrambling in a mad dash in order to report what had happened with the the speaker before her stepmother or any whisperers could–before she could be blamed for another error yet again.

After all she had experienced as a girl, she knew better than to wait for someone else to squeal.

As a woman in a world of men, the only way to be heard was to be first . 

“Father–” Rhaenyra nearly cried out, only to pause upon seeing her husband seated by her father’s bedside with a finger to his lips.   

“He needs rest. The stupid Maester came by with senseless tests, saying that the speaker might have cursed him,” Daemon grumbled, clearly displeased. 

Rhaenyra slowly approached her father’s prone sleeping form, watching the gentle movement of his chest. The wrinkles of pain and stress lingered on his face despite his rest. The only saving grace of sleep, it seemed, was the fact that it was the only time her father could truly breathe.

Eyes turning away, she took the empty seat the Daemon just vacated, hand automatically reaching for his as he stood at her side. “Did they find anything?”

“The only damage Viserys suffers from is the one that those bumbling fools continue to inflict on him,” Daemon seethed, hands clenching around hers as he tried to keep himself from lashing out. “He needs the speaker. Have you spoken to her yet?” 

At that, Rhaenyra sighed, tiredly rubbing at the lines of her forehead. “Not yet. We…may have scared her off. Me and Alicent, that is.”

“You? Scare the speaker of?” Daemon snorted, amused amethyst eyes meeting her own. “I highly doubt anything could scare the rider of the largest dragon of the world.”

“Dragon or no, she is not used to a life in court.” She hissed with worry only a queen could ever claim to have. “If she cannot face one single viper, how is she to survive its nest?”

Perhaps the idea of a perfect savior coming in to save her family was a bit too lofty of a dream. But after seeing her on that field, spouting magic like it was child’s play, it was almost too easy to forget that the speaker was, for all intents and purposes, raised a commoner. And no amount of Targaryen blood could erase that so easily.

Lady Harleigh might look aristocratic, with her unique coloring, regal contours, and sculpted grace, but there was no denying that the speaker didn’t know how to play the game as skillfully as Rhaenyra would have liked. 

The Crown Princess frowned at the thought. “At this rate, Lady Harleigh will not be ready in time for tonight. If only Alicent had not been there, perhaps I could have—” 

“I think we can both agree that had it not been for those damned Greens, we wouldn’t be in this position in the first place. But we are well past that point now thanks to Otto.”

To anyone else, Daemon’s words would have sounded petty, if not targeted towards his long time rival, but Rhaenyra could see the way her husband’s frustrated gaze never left her father’s form. There was anger against Otto, yes, but there was also a hint of fear for Viserys in there, too.

“Sometimes…” Rhaenyra began, her voice now a whisper. “I wish we could go back and just fix all this. If I had just been less foolish and simply asked you earlier or perhaps asked Father myself–”

“It wasn’t you who was foolish, but I,” Daemon painfully admitted. Which was a first, considering how the prince rarely lowered his pride for anything. “I should not have squandered what little trust he had in me. The only reason he denied me you was because of my recklessness.”

His confession only hit harder when he finished with a broken sigh. “He didn’t know I could ever be capable of truly loving you.”

“Daemon…skorī ābra…” Rhaenyra stood up, wanting to comfort her clearly stricken husband.

Before Rhaenyra could say anything more, Daemon quickly shushed her by meeting her halfway with a short kiss. “All I can do now is protect you and our children from whatever it is the Greens throw at us.”

While his promise made her own heart flutter, it wasn’t enough to quench the real source of her worry. 

“You saw the way Otto looked when she arrived, Daemon. He’s planning something for her. I know it.” The words come out a terrified whisper. And despite her mind telling her to stop—to stop before others in the castle can hear—her fears began pouring out like a waterfall. “I hate how he watches us. How he pretends to care for our family. How he keeps looking at father like he hopes—” 

…he’ll never get back up.

At her words, Daemon pulled her hand close, his lips brushing the soft flesh of her palm. “I promise you, my love. I’ll do whatever it takes to keep us safe. I won’t let Otto or any stupid Hightower use the speaker against us. Or my brother.”

With that, Rhaenyra let her husband pull her away to the doors. It would have been an unassuming exit for the couple, who’s minds were now racing to the children left behind in a different solar. 

But it wasn’t. Not with the crippled King left awake, quiet, and despondent, from all he’d just overheard.  

Of all the things Harleigh never expected to come off this strange happenstance meeting, it was to find herself enjoying the company of the dark-haired prince. Perhaps it was because of the way he so easily doted on little Aegon. Or the fact that he took his role as an older brother so seriously. 

But…

“That goes for you, too, Aerea,” he had said even though he didn’t have to at all.

Despite Jacaerys’ previous words, Harleigh knew that the dark-haired knight couldn’t really see Aerea. Not like Aegon could, at least. So when he had sent both Aegon and Aerea off into the garden, she recognized the older brother in him trying to play along for his sibling’s sake. Or in this case, for Aegon’s.

And Harleigh had to admit, she was more than just a little endeared by it. 

“So just to be clear, you were running from…a dress fitting?” Jacaerys recapped incredulously, pulling her out of her thoughts. Harleigh chuckled at the disbelieving look on his face. Because in a world of dragons, knights, and medieval royalty, she supposed it did sound somewhat silly. 

“It’s a lot scarier than you think.” Harleigh said, pretending to sound more confident and all-knowing than she really was. “You try getting in the way of women and their clothes.”

The smile on Jacaerys’ face grew into a knowing one as he fell into the banter easily. “A terrifying battle, I’m sure. Which is why I must commend you for your crafty escape, Lady Harleigh. How ever did you manage that, pray tell?”

“With magic, of course,” Harleigh mysteriously replied, fully accepting the teasing quip of the dark-haired prince with no shame. “How else do you think I could’ve escaped unscathed?”

“With cunning, perhaps? Or sheer luck, maybe,” the prince snorted as Harleigh teasingly waved her fingers at his face. “I find it hard to believe you could’ve possibly escaped any other way.”

“And what makes you say that?”

“Well, for one, everyone knows magic doesn’t exist. Not outside of children’s stories, at least.”

“That’s what you think. But let me tell you, Prince Jacaerys,” Harleigh smiled, wildfire eyes burning into his. “Just because you’ve only heard of magic in fairy tales, doesn’t make it any less real .”

”Ha! Real in fiction, maybe.”

“Or maybe,” Harleigh continued, all the while ignoring the prince’s disbelieving laughter, “it’s simply too complicated for a boy like you to ever understand.”

After their constant back and forth, she fully expected Jacaerys to take the comment to heart. This wouldn’t be the first time her mouth got her in trouble. But much to her surprise, instead of anger or embarrassment, she was met with an easygoing confidence befitting of a prince. 

“It’s a good thing I’m not just a boy then.”

He was smooth, Harleigh realized with a silent hitch of her breath. Almost too smooth for Harleigh to come up with a reply for. 

Not that it mattered, in the end. Because before she could even recover from her fluster, a familiar sharp voice interrupted them both. 

“Playing at manhood doesn’t suit you, nephew .” 

Harleigh looked to her right, only to see Aemond—another prince, her mind reminded her—glaring at Jacaerys with his one good eye. For two members of the same royal family, the two didn’t seem to get along that well. In fact, if it weren’t for their titles, she wouldn’t have even guessed they were family at all. Their coloring alone made them look like night and day against each other. 

But unlike when they first met atop their dragons, Aemond was now dressed in washes of viridescent. And while the color was quite flattering on his lithe built, seeing it juxtaposed against Jacaerys’ own black cloak made her pause. 

First it was Princess Rhaenyra and Queen Alicent, and now these two princes. These colors were clearly important, but why? Why?   

“I could say the same thing about you, uncle,” Jacaerys snapped back. “I didn’t think I’d see you, of all people, here.”

Aemond smiled something sharp, his one eye glancing over Harleigh before returning to the man at her side. “Quite a bold statement for someone who hasn’t lived here for the past six years. If anyone shouldn’t be here, it’s you , nephew.”

“...what exactly are you trying to say, uncle?” 

“Me? I’m just stating what I see. You’re lucky it was I who came across you and Lady Harleigh first.” Aemond looked at Jacaerys condescendingly, causing annoyance to bubble in said witch. What was with this family talking about her like she wasn’t even there? “You, of all people, should know the consequences if people found her alone here with you. The scandal!”

“I beg your pardon!?” Harleigh gasped, only for Jacaerys to step between her and Aemond.

“I would never dishonor Lady Harleigh.”

“So you say, but what would the royal courts think? This wouldn’t be the first time they thought the worst.“

“Neither would it be the first time they’ve been wrong,” Jacaerys huffed. “You should know the dangers of entertaining such lies, uncle.”

At that, Aemond smiled, looking much like a satisfied cat who’s prey just walked into his trap. “It’s a matter of perspective, don’t you think? This wouldn’t be the first time you’ve dismissed a… strong accusation.”

Fascinated, Harleigh watched Jacaerys’ face turn cold. There was an anger to him that looked ethereal. In fact, Harleigh could’ve have sworn she saw a glint of deep violet flash in his eyes right then and there. “Prince Jacaerys?”

“It’s not something you should worry about, Lady Harleigh. This…is nothing more than an old childhood disagreement and nothing more,“ Jacaerys said, though Harleigh could sense that this fight was clearly beyond her understanding. “Have care with your words, uncle. And leave Lady Harleigh out of this. She has nothing to do with our family squabbles.”

From that alone, Harleigh knew that whatever this was–this strange feud between nephew and uncle, of black and green–was clearly beyond her current understanding. 

And honestly, she wasn’t sure if she wanted any part in this. When she had agreed to help the ailing King, she had thought it would be as simple as that. 

But this…this was something else.

“I disagree. In fact, I think she deserves to know the truth,” Aemond gloated. “Tell me, how much does she know already? Or have you been hiding your true nature from her, too?” 

Harleigh wanted to speak up then and there, to either gain some clarity or perhaps excuse her way out of this. (God knows she’d rather not get caught in some strange family matter again.) But before she could, a familiar pair of young laughter interrupted the tense air.

“ Lady Harleigh! Look at what we found!”

The tension in Jacaerys’ shoulders only increased at the sound of approaching footsteps. And upon seeing Aemond, little Aegon hesitated, staring at the newcomer Targaryen with a mix of confusion and innocent curiosity. Aerea, on the other hand, immediately dragged the hesitant Aegon with her to hide behind Harleigh’s cloak, clearly recognizing the tense stand-off for what it was. 

“ Big Brother? “

“It’s alright, Prince Aegon. It’s nothing more than a small disagreement. Right, Prince Jacaerys?” Harleigh tried to say, despite the fact it clearly wasn’t. 

Jacaerys didn’t dare turn around, eyes still furiously trained on Aemond. His uncle, on the other hand, held none of the same reservations and looked at Aegon with boredom.

“My brother’s namesake, I see,” Aemond scoffed. “First, it was you and those brothers of yours. And now this? That mother of yours truly has no shame.”

“Take care of how you speak of my mother,” Jacaerys near growled, hands itching towards his left hip where an imposing blade hung. “That is our future Queen you speak of.”

“The future Queen,” Aemond laughed, as if the mere word and notion was nothing more than a cruel joke. “And what does that make you, nephew? The future King? Must I already bow to you, too, bastard ?”

The final word was lost to Harleigh, but not to the three around her. Based on their resounding gasps, she could only imagine just what Aemond had said to earn such a reaction.

“Say that again. I dare you.”

”Prince Jacaerys, please don’t—not in front of your brother, at least!“ Harleigh tried to be the voice of reason, only to be ignored by both men again.

”Say it, dragon thief .”

”Prince Aemond! Stop!” But Aemond didn’t even give Harleigh a second glance, too consumed by his anger at whatever insult Jacaerys must have spilled.

“ Well, go on then, bastard! Show her who you really are! Show us all the truth!”

That was the final straw, it seemed. Because rather than a verbal retort, Jacaerys proceeded to draw his sword, only to be followed by an eager Aemond.

“ Big Brother !”

Not once did either man take notice of the distress on little Aegon’s face from seeing his own family begin to fight each other. Instead, they only seemed more emboldened to escalate the fight even more. Harleigh, on the other hand, could feel the boy flinch every time the metal swords clashed. And with it, the tears about to break through the young prince’s eyes.

“No, no, no, no more fighting. Please— “

The turmoil she saw in Aegon had no place being on a face so terribly young. All Harleigh wanted to do was get these children out of here and away from this bloody feud, but alas, it was never really going to be that simple. (Since when was anything in her life simple?)

” Aegon, no —“ Aerea cried out.

That was Harleigh’s only warning before Aegon tore his way out of her arms to run right into the fray, dodging Harleigh’s attempt to pull him back.

“Aegon!”

“Please stop! Big Brother , stop!”

Yet no one listened. And since the fight didn’t stop, neither did Aegon. 

Harleigh didn’t have to be a Seer to see where this could possibly go. If the two older princes didn’t stop fighting, Aegon would interfere in some poor attempt to stop them, only to get himself hurt. Or worse– killed . 

Family or no, Harleigh would be damned if she let another innocent life get caught in the middle of some stupid clash once more. 

“That is enough! ”

Chapter Text

Despite what most might believe, Aemond was not always antagonistic in nature. As a child, he was always more soft-spoken and obedient. Kind, his mother would say. Weak, his brother teased. Friendly, his nephews used to insist. 

It was only when Aemond finally bonded with a dragon (with his dragon), that he finally knew what it felt like to truly rage. Even if…not all of it came from him.

“Well, go on then, bastard! Show her who you really are! Show us all the truth!”

It was almost too easy to forget just where he ended and Vhagar started sometimes. Feeling the empty ache where his eye should be, the repressed vitriol from years worth of bad blood easily spilled out of his mouth like dragon flame. And like any uncontrolled fire, this one burned everything in its path.

Including himself.

“That’s enough!”

A blast of white blinded him. And before he knew it, he was being propelled away from the fight by what could only be her.

The witch. The rider of Balerion. The girl who spoke with dragons.

‘This must be the true might of magic. The power of Old Valyria…’

By then, both he and Jacaerys were at different ends of the garden, their blades now impaled into the ground thanks to a simple wave of Lady Harleigh’s hand. Usually, such an intervention would have fanned the flames of Vhagar’s anger. But instead, the vestiges of magic surrounding them tempered her instead, leaving his heat-addled mind in blissful silence.

All that fire he could never control. All that rage he could never understand…tamed by Lady Harleigh, just like that. 

How did she–?

“You two should be ashamed,” Harleigh seethed, pulling Aemond out of his stupor. She had not moved a single inch from the younger Aegon’s side despite her miraculous stunt. “Losing control of yourselves like that! Do you understand just how dangerous this could’ve been? How Aegon nearly ran into those damn blades of yours, all because you couldn’t put aside your own foolishness for just one damn minute!?”

“Lady Harleigh—“ Jacaerys tried to say, trying to scramble up after her, only to struggle against a strange and oppressive force that held him down. “I can explain—“

Aemond knew better than to resist against his own invisible bonds. His connection with Vhagar told him that. If Harleigh didn’t want them moving, then they were going nowhere. 

“You should’ve known better! And don’t tell me you simply didn’t realize just how stupidly dangerous this whole debacle was! You’re a grown man, for Merlin’s sake! Does your younger brother’s life mean nothing to you!?” Harleigh shrilled, tearing into Jacaerys with the gusto of a mother dragon trying to protect her young. 

“And you!” She cried out, turning to a stunned Aemond with as little mercy as she had for his apologetic nephew. “I may not know you well, but I thought you better than this! I couldn’t care less about whatever squabble you might have with Prince Jacaerys. But you had no right dragging Aegon into this! He’s only a child!”

To his side, he could see Jacaerys trying to struggle, futilely stubborn and desperate to grovel at the witch’s feet. Aemond, however, had nothing to say as Harleigh did her best to wipe Aegon’s teary face. It was hard to find the words when he knew that nothing he could say would change Harleigh’s mind. 

“Whatever it is you need to deal with, you can do so yourselves. But I will have no part in it,” Harleigh finished, promptly turning away to leave, dragging a hiccuping Aegon with her. “And neither will the children.” 

If Aemond were a lesser man, he would be absolutely repulsed by the unwomanly rage he saw in Lady Harleigh’s eyes. Perhaps even properly cowed, the same way Jacaerys was. 

But the magic-struck Aemond didn’t care. 

At that moment, he was lost, feeling something he had not in years. What a war-torn magic-hungry Vhagar had been starved of for nearly a century. 

Peace.

“Father. You wished to see me?”

There was once a time when Alicent used to listen to her father with something akin to reverence. Her mother used to say there was no one she could trust more than her father. That her father, as distant as he might act, always knew what was best for his daughter and their family. 

Don’t slouch in front of the Council, Alicent. Don’t play with your food, Alicent. The princess looks lonely, Alicent. Why don’t you be her friend, Alicent?

The advice was harmless at first. Little things that a little girl in a too-large tower had no problem doing. But as she changed, as all little girls were wont to do, so did the whispers of her father. 

The King is disheartened, Alicent. Go to him and offer him comfort, Alicent. Wear one of your mother’s dresses, Alicent. Why don’t you bring that gift you had for him, Alicent?

“Did you meet with Lady Harleigh, as I instructed, Alicent?”

From the nearby chaise, Alicent fiddled with her fingers—a pitiful image of a Queen still hesitant to meet the inevitably disappointed gaze of her own father. 

“It’s imperative that we are able to get her on our side, your grace,” he continued, purposefully ignoring the way she picked at her nails. A bad habit she could never truly get rid of. “You understand why this is important to our family, don’t you?”

“Of course,” Alicent replied, with as much grace as she could muster. “Lady Harleigh is of House Targaryen and a rider of the Black Dread. She and her connections to Old Valyria are important to the King. To…to Viserys,” she slowly added, her husband’s name still foreign to her lips. 

Otto regarded her with distant approval, turning to look out the windows of her solar. Even though he was in her private chambers, it always felt like he commanded it more than she did. “Yes. You, of all people, must know why she cannot fall into Princess Rhaenyra’s hands. If she does, our family could lose everything .”

“Everything?” She parroted with audible confusion and disbelief. “Lady Harleigh has only been here one day. What exactly is there to lose? There is even hope that she might be able to heal my lord husband, in ways that Grand Maester Mellos could not before.”

”Your doubt is on the wrong side of the board, daughter. To Viserys, she may be this…this beacon of unholy miracles. But once he is gone—“

”The King is still here, my lord,” she bit out. Her first defense. But Alicent’s scathing and desperate words did not deter her father. 

“Once he is gone, as all fathers inevitably are to the children they leave behind, who will be left to stand between Aegon and Rhaenyra?” Otto retorted without even glancing back. Perhaps he knew he didn’t need to. There was no mistaking the dawning look of abject horror on her face. 

“Lady Harleigh’s special…abilities are nothing more than a temporary balm. What we truly need is her support. Those who hold her favor, retain that of the King’s.” Favor that their own side clearly could not afford to lose, considering what little her children already had with their own father. 

“Then perhaps we needn’t do anything more. Lady Harleigh has no favor for either side. Not even Rhaenyra has been able to charm her, though she tries,” Alicent admitted, recounting both her own failure and Rhaenyra’s as well. “Perhaps…

“Perhaps…” Alicent repeated, slow but hopeful. “…there is no need to drag her into this feud at all. She knows nothing of it. She is not even educated in the ways of the court. And as long as she remains neutral—”

“Neutrality means nothing, Alicent. Just because she is not siding with the Blacks now, doesn’t mean she won’t later,” her father snapped. “Everyone must choose a side eventually. Even godless commoner-raised girls like her.”

The scathing tone in her father’s voice finally clicked in her mind. “You do not trust her.”

”No, I don’t,” her father confirmed gravely, slowly walking back to her chaise. “And neither should you. This would not be the first time House Hightower has dealt with similar…aberrations before. But the fact she rides the largest dragon in the world means that the royal family will not turn a blind eye to that girl. Even if she is proven to be baseborn.”

Alicent turned her head, like whiplash. ”Then why have me help her if you already doubt her so?”

“Even if she might espouse unnatural practices, there is merit to earning her trust if it means earning that of the King’s,” Otto snorted, smirking in the way he always did when whispering in her husband’s ear. “Just because she cannot be trusted, does not mean she cannot be useful to our cause.”

A younger, more optimistic, Alicent might have once argued against it. Maybe an older version of her that had more experience and backbone. Or maybe it didn’t really even matter. Because, in the end, all it took was one final nail in the coffin to sway her otherwise.

“This is what we must do for the stability of the realm, your grace. This is what you must do to protect our family.”

Perhaps she was her father’s daughter in more ways than she initially thought. He had raised her to play a game that was never hers to control. And for her to do the same with Harleigh would not be so different than what she had seen him do with the King so many times before. 

So why, oh why, did her father’s words still feel so wrong?

Harleigh found herself humming as she shadowed her two little charges. After what had happened in the gardens, she had been worried for Aegon. But it didn’t take long for Aerea to distract Aegon from that mess, dragging the little prince into a game of exploring the castle’s halls with the intention of bringing him back to his rooms. 

…at least, this seemed to be the way back to his rooms. But it was hard to tell since little Aegon seemed more focused on chattering with Aerea than truly finding his way back. 

”If it’s the royal family’s chambers you’re looking for, then you’re going the wrong way.” 

Startled, Harleigh looked up, finding herself face to face with cloudy lilac eyes and even softer white locks. Unlike the other Targaryens she’d met so far, the woman didn’t seem to carry the same rage as the rest of her family. Where they were all unquenchable fire, this one felt more like wisps of smoke. In fact, if not for her coloring, Harleigh would have never guessed she was related to Daemon or Aemond at all. 

”How fascinating. Nearly a dozen knights passed your way, and not one head turned,” the girl mused, pale blue eyes strangely cloudy. ”Not even my spiders can hide themselves the same way you do.”

“Well, not many can see past my magic either,” Harleigh quipped back, letting the disillusionment charm melt off once she realized the girl meant no harm. 

“Did you really have to remove it already? I like seeing you all…sparkly.”

At that, Harleigh let out a startled laugh. No muggle should have been able to see her past the charm. Unless…this glassy-eyed lady was no regular muggle at all. But for once, Harleigh found the thought more intriguing than threatening. 

There was something about this girl that reminded her of an old blonde friend. Something that made Harleigh want to know more about the mirror in front of her.

“What’s your name?”

“Helaena. Or Princess Helaena, I suppose,” said Princess added thoughtlessly, correcting herself with a confused tone. “You should know that by now, Lady Harleigh.”

To that, the witch gave a confused smile. ”I apologize, but I’m afraid I don’t know you yet, your highness. Though it seems you’ve already heard of me.”

Harleigh’s answer didn’t deter the whimsical girl at all. ”Perhaps now, you don’t. But sooner or later, you will,” the princess hummed absentmindedly. “Or maybe you already do . This is us meeting, is it not?”

At that, Harleigh gave a startled laugh. “I suppose so. I can’t argue with that, your highness.”

Helaena suddenly frowned, clearly unhappy. “You keep calling me that. Your Highness.”

“You are a princess, are you not? It would be rude to call you anything else.”

“In that case, I should be calling you āeksio, then,” Helaena mused, eyes all-seeing as they stared into her own pair of green. “Especially when one has danced with death as many times as you have, Master.”

The translated words struck a chord in Harleigh, but before she could pick on them further, she felt a small hand tug at her elbow. 

“Go? With Aegon?” Aerea asked, pointing at an awaiting Aegon who was already scrambling to enter a nearby room. It was an adorable sight, seeing the tiny boy tiptoe to try and open the large doors himself. 

“I doubt you’d want to go there. Princess Rhaenyra and her children stay in her own wing, not the guests’,” Helaena suddenly responded. Her eyes were trained on Aegon, but she didn’t seem to be talking to either Harleigh or said prince at all. “If you follow me, I can lead you back.”

At Aerea’s little cheer, the princess smiled, and that was all Harleigh needed to know that there was more to her than she might seem. 

“You can see her, too, can’t you? Like Aegon can,” Harleigh suddenly spoke as she trailed behind the princess. Aerea and Aegon, on the other hand, were already racing ahead, giggling and slamming doors left and right as they peeked into each room like little mischievous mice. 

“It may seem so, but no. While I hear her whispers sometimes, my nephew is the keener one in that regard, ” Helaena whispered back, tilting her head as she seemed to relish in both Aerea’s and Aegon’s laughter. “Eyes like mine belong to the future, not the past.

”It’s how I knew we would meet,” the princess added, no longer smiling but staring at something Harleigh couldn’t see. “The stones were set the second you stepped foot into Balerion’s cave. I would know. I saw it.”

Her words suddenly began to make a lot more sense. A seer? Or perhaps something entirely else?

”I’ve been called many things. A girl. A princess. A dreamer. An idiot. A fool,” Helaena giggled, causing Harleigh to realize that she had spoken all that aloud. “Seer, will not be the last title I receive. And neither will it be yours. Though I can only assume that you still have dozens more to collect, āeksio morgho .”

And yet, Harleigh felt herself scoffing at the notion, disliking where this conversation was going. “Titles like that mean nothing to me.”

“Yet, they will be your greatest strength when the time comes.” It was then Harleigh noticed the nervous grip poor Helaena had on her own sleeves. “The canvas has yet to dry. And the picture won’t be finished until you’ve chosen what colors to paint with, Lady Harleigh.”

There was no denying the prophetic nature of her words anymore, Harleigh realized with dread. Only time will tell when they come to fruition. 

”You have questions,” Helaena noticed, but not before guiding Aegon and Aerea into another hallway. Despite the emerald undertone of her skirts, not once did her hand stray from the black of Aegon’s tunic. “Questions you want to ask me.”

Harleigh faltered, hopeful and terrified all at once. ”Can you answer them?” 

”No.” And Harleigh nearly wilted, until Helaena offered her a small grin. One that promised more. “But perhaps I can offer something else.”

“You still with us, Jace?”

Jacaerys didn’t reply, too distracted by the faces populating the castle’s main hall. This would be the first welcoming feast with the complete Royal Targaryen family in years, making it the event of the century. Though whether it would be a successful showcase of unity or a blatant giveaway of their divide remained to be seen, given the blatant separation of the Blacks on Viserys’ right, and the Greens on his left. Nonetheless, that didn’t stop houses from all over the Kingdom from stumbling in, eager to present themselves at the Iron Throne and its current occupant, family feud be damned.

He, too, would’ve been following that same strategy, as heir to the Crown Princess. Had it not been for the fact that he was stuck thinking about her.

Would she be attending tonight? Or was she somewhere else in the castle, hiding away from him and his family? He would not blame her if she were, after his uncouth and absolutely deplorable behavior. But that didn’t stop him from hoping for even the slightest chance he might see the magical girl from the garden. Better yet, maybe even fix things with her before she disappeared on him again.

“Are you thinking about your lady friend again?” Lucerys teased, with an unnecessary emphasis on the lady part of it. 

“She’s not a lady friend. She’s just…a friend,” Jacaerys said defensively, eyes still trained on the great doors that welcomed a new face nearly every minute. Every face but hers, it seemed.

Clearly, his answer must’ve been lacking, for Joffrey suddenly piped up from Lucerys’ own side. “Big Brother! You’re turning red!” 

At that, Lucerys began to snicker, dodging Jacaerys’ shoulder as he did. “Sounds like she’s more than just a friend. Don’t you agree, Joff?”

Before Jacaerys could refute such a statement, he was interrupted by the sound of cups crashing into the floor. On the other side of the throne, he noticed his hungover uncle flinching, hand still raised and having obviously just failed to grab a drink, having instead knocked the entire passing tray onto the floor. 

“That can’t be good,” Lucerys whispered, watching as the rest of the Greens glared at the hungover prince. Already, the Queen was tugging at Aemond’s wrist before motioning for him to help his older brother, much to the one-eyed prince’s annoyance. “Poor Uncle Aegon. I wouldn’t want to be on that end of Uncle Aemond’s ire.”

Jacaerys grumbled, turning away from his uncles, only to relax slightly as he spotted a familiar face suddenly sneak in from the side doors. Who, despite her undeniable evergreen skirts, always remained friendly to him and his family. 

Even now. 

“Helaena, you’re late,” Alicent scolded lightly, but not before pressing a brief kiss to her only daughter’s cheek.

“I apologize, mother. I was…helping someone find their way here.” At those words, Helaena’s eyes briefly met his, before moving onto something behind him.

“ Muña!”

He turned, only to see Aegon, his brother, race into his mother’s arms. His mother didn’t even falter, smiling brightly as she pulled Aegon onto her lap to introduce her to their grandfather, momentarily glancing Jacaerys’ way with approving eyes. If only she knew the truth of how he had nearly failed, both as a big brother and her son.

“I see,” Alicent sighed, lips slightly pursed before worriedly ushering Helaena to her own side. “You best stand by your brothers now, dearest. Your father is about to make an announcement.”

“Is this about…her? Lady Harleigh?” He heard Aemond ask. Jacaerys’ own ears perked up at the name, holding his breath as he and his uncle awaited the Queen’s answer.

“...yes.” And Jacaerys felt his very being crumble. Was he too late? Had they brought her to their side before he could stop it?

The hall suddenly fell to silence as the doors slammed open, announcing a new guest. Only this time, the entire crowd of lords and ladies finally hushed. The crowd didn’t part immediately, blocking his own view of the approaching figure. But one peek of dark ebony looks was all he needed to confirm the truth.

“She’s here,” Jacaerys gasped in realization. Deep down, he knew it had to be her. It couldn’t be anyone else. 

Eager and desperate to lay eyes on her once more, Jacaerys took a step forward. It was easy to ignore the resounding whispers and stares as his uncle Aemond too did the same. And it wouldn’t be until years later that he realized why such a tiny action would hold such great significance.

In that moment, he only had one thought. 

‘Please…don’t let her be a Green. Anything but that.’ 

Doubt filled his mind as he recalled their last shared moment in the garden. With one bated and heavy breath, he finally looked up to search for Harleigh’s face amidst the parting crowd. And dreading the impending possibility of green, he found himself uselessly praying for black. 

Instead, all he saw was…red.

Chapter Text

“Are you sure I should be wearing this tonight? This seems a bit…extravagant for a dinner with your family, don’t you think?”

Looking at herself through the mirror, Harleigh felt like she was staring at a stranger. Gone were the messy braids and leather pants, replaced instead by silken skirts and a hand-woven bodice. Gems lined her waist, accentuating every breath and she tried not to be too conscious of just how expensive the entire get-up was. Truly, she’d never felt more out-of-place in her life, not even when she attended her first Yule Ball in her fourth year. But then again, she’d never had to wear something so grand, even as the Girl-Who-Lived. 

The fact that Helaena was wearing something so differently colored didn’t help assuage her worries at all. If anything, it only made that itch to change back to her own clothes, even worse.

“Believe me, red suits you perfectly well, Lady Harleigh. Now hurry! The feast can’t start until the honored guest has arrived,” Helaena revealed. “And you won’t want to be late for that!”

At that, Harleigh immediately sputtered. A guest? A feast!? ”Wait, what do you mean!? I thought you said this was just going to be a dinner!”

Unfortunately, the confused witch never got her answers. For less than a second later, Helaena was already rushing away with little Aegon and Aerea, leaving Harleigh to wait behind a pair of huge ornate twin doors. 

‘Just do what Helaena said. As soon as the doors open, walk until the end of the hall and bow,’ Harleigh recalled. ‘Shouldn’t be too hard…right?’’

It shouldn’t have been, in theory. But where Harleigh was expecting a fancy, if not lavish, dinner with the Targaryen family, she was instead met with what could only be a full-on royal party— guests included.

The hall was lined with gleaming knights surrounding a crowd more opulent than any she’d ever seen before. Nearly everyone was dressed as lavishly as she was, if not more, in gowns or suits that were clearly tailored for just this type of occasion. She could’ve sworn she even saw a lady wearing a corset made of literal gold. Which shouldn’t have been comfortable at all, but somehow, the owner in question somehow made it look good. 

Harleigh could only imagine what sort of pitiful image she made, parting that crowd like the Red Sea in her hastily borrowed dress. 

‘Who are all these people anyway!?’ Harleigh internally panicked, desperately trying not to meet anyone’s eyes. So far no one seemed to notice her true emotions. Or if they did, the crowd around her simply didn’t voice it.

Not yet, at least.

“At last! The guest of honor has finally arrived,” she heard Viserys exclaim with excitement, making her realize just what kind of trap Helaena had led her into. Thankfully, the king was jolly enough for them both, even if there was a sense of sickness clinging onto his silken sleeves. “You must forgive us for the hasty preparations. Our welcome celebrations are usually much more impressive than this, I assure you.” 

Harleigh couldn’t even grapple with the fact that this feast was considered simple, considering that she hadn’t even expected to attend one in the first place. Much less as the aforementioned guest of honor.  

“Your majesty, you didn’t have to do all this for me.” She bowed, hoping that whatever mediocre curtsy she tried to pull off would suffice. 

“Oh, what nonsense! Now that you’re here, the feast can finally begin!” Viserys chortled, earning cheers from the resounding crowd. “To all who have come to celebrate with us, drink and be merry!” 

The exuberant King then motioned for her to sit at the upper table with him and the others. Though Prince Daemon and Princess Rhaenyra kept to one side, while the Queen and Lord Otto sat on Viserys’ left. Hesitantly, she moved to obey, until she realized that every seat was occupied, with little Aegon (and an invisible Aerea) now taking the seat at Princess Rhaenyra’s side. 

Upon realizing the same thing, the faces of the queen and Lord Otto were quick to turn a burning shade of red. But Harleigh didn’t even give them a chance to speak, taking the escape for what it was. 

“If it’s alright with you, Your Majesty, I’d like to sit with the others down here. I’ve been meaning to meet the rest of your family ever since I arrived,” she said, earning her blinding beam from Viserys. 

“Of course! I’m sure you’ll enjoy their company much more, than that of us older folk up here,” the king chuckled, earning him some laughter from the rest of the room. He didn’t even bat an eye before turning to face the awaiting crowd. “Once everyone’s had their fill, we can commence with the more formal matters. But for now, eat and be merry!”  

Cheers and applause filled the room as dinner commenced. Harleigh rushed over to what was essentially the youth’s table with a relieved smile. That is until she realized just who was occupying it already.

“There’s a seat right here, my lady!” “You should sit with me, Lady Harleigh.” 

For a moment, she briefly considered both offers, willing to put behind what had happened in the garden. Hell, she was even willing to push aside that strange divide of black and green that even now, seemed to separate the two. But when she saw Aemond glare at his nephew and the responding frown on Jacaerys’ lips, she thought better. 

She’d already been used as a pawn once, for men who sought to use her against each other. There was no way in hell she was going to get in between something like that ever again.

Mind made up, she moved past them easily. And while Aemond didn’t visibly showcase any sort of reaction to her snub, Jacaerys crumpled slightly like a disappointed puppy. But Harleigh didn’t let that deter her, even as both their gazes trailed after her receding back.

“I think I’ll sit right here, thank you very much,” Harleigh said, looking first at Helaena who’d be at her left, then at the slightly younger brown-haired boy who’d be seated at her right. Helaena gave a cheery smile as the witch turned towards the new face, one that looked startlingly like Jacaerys’, but softer. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, by the way. I’m Harleigh. Harleigh Potter. And you are?”

To be honest, Daemon wasn’t expecting much of the feast that night. Maybe some posturing to soothe the hearts of every attending house. Or perhaps even some entertainment to distract the entire Kingdom from their feuding family. In fact, he was initially under the impression that the feast would be a buffer for later when it would just be the rest of Targaryen House once more. 

So imagine his surprise when he saw the little Targaryen-to-be, decked out in red, of all colors. With a waist-pinching corset, and vermillion skirts that only slightly grazed the floor, it was no wonder nearly everyone in the hall was starstruck by her entrance.

Everyone in House Targaryen included.

“I must commend you for your eye, Alicent. I thought you were planning to lend one of your older dresses, but this one suits Lady Harleigh quite well,” Viserys praised, patting his wife’s hand approvingly. In any other situation, he would’ve found the whole thing suspicious. But upon seeing the weak smile on the Queen’s face and the frown on Otto’s, he only felt satisfaction at the clear fact that none of this was going according to the Green’s plans either.

And it wasn’t like his brother was wrong. Red truly becomes Lady Harleigh. Admittedly, a lot better than either green or black. 

“It definitely stands out,” Otto grumbled, though it was hard to tell whether it was meant as a compliment or an insult. Daemon wouldn’t be surprised if it was the latter. Or if the deeper meaning flew over Viserys’ head. 

(A glance at his wife was all he needed to know that it did .)

Dinner continued with little fanfare after that. Despite Otto’s and Alicent’s less-than-pleasurable company, getting to sit with both Rhaenyra and his brother more than made up for it. His wife absolutely glowed with laughter while at her father’s side. And though Viserys sometimes struggled to match the room’s liveliness, there was no denying just how much happier he looked, basking in the presence of his entire family. 

“Will you be making the announcement regarding Lady Harleigh tonight, Father?” Rhaenyra asked, earning a confused look from the other side of the table. Daemon didn’t even try to hide his smirk, basking in the fact that he had something over that damned Hand of his brother.

“Of course, of course! It would make a fine toast, don’t you think?” 

“A toast, my King? Whatever for?” Otto prodded, sneaking his way into their conversation, much to Daemon’s annoyance. 

The smile on Viserys’ face grew, no doubt at his excitement to share the good news. “To present Lady Harleigh, of course. Tonight, House Targaryen intends to claim her as one of our own.”

Daemon nearly snorted seeing the pinched and panicked look on Otto’s face. “But my King, surely we need to consult the Council on this first. This concerns the Iron Throne–”

“Nonsense. This is more of a family matter, is it not?” 

“It would be…if it weren’t for the fact she rides the biggest dragon in the world, my King.”

“All the more reason to welcome her into her heritage, don’t you agree?” Viserys supplied with a hearty laugh, each pressing attempt of his Hand to change his mind as unsuccessful as the last. “It would be cruel to leave her abandoned. After all, a Targaryen alone in the world is a terrible thing.” 

Before Viserys could say more, Alicent quickly intervened, distracting both Otto and the other onlookers with a quick motion at the nearby servants. “Let us refill your cup, dear husband. It wouldn’t do for your throat to be parched on a night like this.” 

The action would have seemed loving, and perhaps, in Viserys’ mind, it really was. But Daemon saw the subtle glance Otto gave Alicent before he quickly excused himself from the table. Alicent seemed to fit into her role as his wife quite comfortably, Daemon observed. Either that or she was a much better actress than he initially believed. 

Perhaps it was a mix of both. 

Daemon hummed noncommittally, taking a leisurely sip of wine to hide the sharp sweep of his eyes. “Worry not, dear brother. This is a good thing. Not just for her, but for the family as well.” With a turn of his head, he directed everyone’s attention to the dancefloor below. “She already gets along quite well with the children. She’ll fit in just fine.” 

At his supportive words, he could see a tired smile return to Viserys’ face. “Yes. I’m sure she will.”

“You have our support, Father,” Rhaenyra added, taking his free hand in a careful but loving grip. “All of ours.”

At her words, their little Aegon piped up in sweet agreement, earning a hearty chuckle from the King. And Viserys, ever the family man, quickly motioned for the little boy to come closer, all seriousness rolling off of him like it was never even there. Daemon purposefully ignored the scandalized looks on the other nobles’ faces and the jealous frown on Alicent’s. After all, what did their need for propriety matter in comparison to the feelings of his brother and wife?

As the conversation shifted towards Aegon (and the boy’s imaginary tales of a new friend), Daemon felt his attention shift somewhere else. For while everyone was watching that specter of red, he had his eyes on something a bit more…green. 

A specific green who was now mingling with an unfamiliar Maester. A visiting student of Grand Maester Mellos, last he heard, who had somehow auspiciously arrived at the same time as the rest of their sons did. 

‘Strange. What purpose does the Citadel have, sending someone all this way so suddenly?’

Eager to investigate further, Daemon quickly got to his feet. But not before leaning into his wife’s ear. “I’ll be right back.” 

With all eyes now on little Aegon, there was no better time to leave the High Table discreetly. And Daemon used it to his full advantage, casually strolling after the suspicious duo as they tried to find a more isolated alcove, for what could only be a more private conversation. 

Or however close to privacy one might get in the Red Keep. 

‘Now what exactly are you getting up to, Lord Hand?’

“She’s not as mad as you think she is, you know.”

If he were anyone else, Aemond would have tripped mid-dance, only to make a fool of himself and his poor dance partner of a sister. But thanks to years of training and knowing better than to falter in court, he merely tore his gaze away from the witch still seated at their table, all the while futilely trying to faux nonchalance. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

To his annoyance, his one and only sister giggled before turning a specific way so that Aemond would catch sight of Harleigh again. This time, the witch was laughing at something Lucerys said, causing his mood to dampen even more. Of all the companies she could have enjoyed, why did it have to be his? 

The only consolation was that his other damned nephew seemed to be just about as successful as he himself was with earning her attention. Which was to say…not by much, considering just how many times Lady Harleigh turned the buffoon away every time he tried to join her conversation with Lucerys. 

But that didn’t make her rejection of Aemond any less bitter. The fact that she seemed to take a shine to Helaena as well didn’t help temper his frustration whatsoever. (Aemond would be the last to admit that he recognized that dress on Harleigh, considering it was he who had ordered that made for his sweet sister’s sixteenth birthday.)

“You’re avoiding her, because you think she rejected you,” Helaena continued, swaying aimlessly to the music as she did. “Not that I can blame her. You didn’t exactly leave the best impression.”

“That’s her mistake, not mine,” he scoffed, unwilling to admit that there was even a kernel of truth in his sister’s words. 

But Helaena only smiled, clearly unfazed by his burning anger. ”The truth is, you’re not mad that she turned you down. You’re mad because you think she turned you down for them .”

Aemond flinched, and for the first time in a long time, his rage bled away to reveal the underlying hurt that was always hiding beneath it. 

Helaena only looked at him all-knowingly. No doubt, she had already sensed his internal turmoil for what it truly was from the very beginning. And honestly, he wasn’t sure if he felt more touched or frustrated at how perceptive Helaena could be during the most inopportune moments. 

Like in the middle of a very very public dance, for one. 

“Anger will only get you so far, little brother,” she warned.

“It got me a dragon,” he argued back, High Valyrian sharp and heavy on his tongue.

“Do you really think that will work on her, too?” Helaena snorted. One that would’ve earned her a sharp word from their mother, had she caught it. But it was just she and Aemond, and as callous as he could sometimes be, he was never one to strictly hold his sister to their mother’s standards. “Her company is not something you can demand for.”

“I shouldn’t have to demand anything. I am a prince.”

“And she is not a dragon, despite your silly attempts to treat her like one.” Helaena sighed in exasperation, before tapping on his nose like a naughty spider that’s crept its way into her skirts. “While Vhagar might find your brooding tolerable, you cannot expect to win over anyone else the same way. Especially not someone like her.”

Before Aemond could retort, Helaena suddenly leaned in to whisper into his ear. “Fire and blood will not help you this time. If you are not careful, it will only make it worse.” 

From the corner of his eye, Aemond snuck another subtle glance towards Lady Harleigh, who at this point, was in the process of enrapturing both Lucerys and Joffrey with her words. It had grated on his nerves at first, seeing someone like Lady Harleigh having to feign kindness with those so undeserving. But the more he got to see her for what she was, the more he realized she wasn’t really feigning anything at all.

That was just the way Lady Harleigh was. Simply, irrevocably, and painfully, kind. Unless given a reason to behave otherwise. 

Ergo, the disaster in the gardens.

“...how does one become her friend then?” Aemond asked through gritted teeth. He would not let his pride get in the way again. Not if he could help it, at least. 

“If you have to ask, you’ll never know. If you already know, you need only ask.” But ask who? Her?

Hearing her nonsensical words, Aemond wondered if he was even talking to his sister anymore or if this was just another episode of her peculiarity again. That was the paradox of Helaena. You never really knew which side of her you would get. Not even as she changed pace, mid-dance, forcing him to follow her lead across the dance floor. 

“Careful, sister. You’re going faster than the music.”

“Am I? Maybe you’re just dancing too slow.”

He really wasn’t. But he wasn’t going to argue against his older sister when she was trying to make a point. 

”Remember, little brother. We cannot judge you for the fire you carry. Only what you choose to do with it. The only question is, will you let it overwhelm you? Or will you use it to spark something else?”

The Great Hall was whispering again. A symphony of hushed voices, royal and plebeian alike, echoed like a knell against the rising melody of minstrels. Lords and ladies that once filled the main floor were slowly gliding away, making way for what had to be the most scandalous dance of the century. One that no one saw coming, until an apologetic-looking one-eyed prince kissed Lady Harleigh’s hand. 

That in itself would have been a stunning move on its own…had it only been him seeking out her hand for every dance. But it didn’t take long before another familiar dark-haired prince too decided to join in, even after being rejected multiple times before.

And suddenly, the entire court was witness to the interchanging black and green, futilely chasing after that flighty shade of red. A Dance of Dragons, in both the most metaphorical and literal sense. 

To most, this would go down in the books as one of the most dramatic courtships in all of Westeros. One so profoundly romantic, that bards would be singing about this for generations to come. For when else has there ever been two such oppositely inclined yet devastatingly powerful princes so clearly vying for the hand of one mysterious girl?

Rhaenyra wasn’t sure how she could have possibly missed it. It was like looking at a mirror. Only, instead of Daemon sweeping her younger self away, it was her son (and half-brother) trying to do the same with Lady Harleigh. 

The moment in itself should have been sickeningly sweet, like sugared lemons melting against her tongue. Thrilling, even, in the sense that there was no telling who Lady Harleigh seemed to favor. And had it been quite literally anyone else chasing after the speaker’s hand, perhaps it would have been an entertaining distraction for the Crown Princess.  

But in that moment, all Rhaenyra could think was–

‘–what terrible terrible timing, for her son to finally experience something like love.’ 

Because as touching as it was to see her ever-dutiful firstborn smiling so brightly, she could not afford to feel happy for him. Not when he had a greater destiny awaiting him outside of this moment. And definitely not when he was already engaged to someone else. 

Was it too selfish for Rhaenyra to wish she knew what was going on in her eldest son’s mind? To have taken back all her mistakes so that her children would not have to bear its weight? Better yet, was it cruel as a mother to wish her son never experience love, if it meant keeping him safe? 

(‘Unhappy, but alive,’ her anxieties whispered in her mind.) 

The only saving grace in this moment was that her father was nowhere to witness this, having briefly left, right before the announcement was to be made. He would be coming back any moment now, and if she didn’t fix things before, gods forbid, any rumors get back to House Velaryon, there was no telling what sort of fury would be unleashed. 

‘Daemon. I need to find Daemon,’ she found herself repeating like a broken mantra. (If Rhaenyra had simply looked to her left, she would’ve seen her old childhood friend going through a similar mental dilemma, fingers nearly picked raw. But she didn’t.) 

Right as she was about to get up, however, a familiar horn blared through the hall, putting a stop to all festivities and dancing. From across the room, her eyes met her husband’s, who had just reappeared at both the best and worst time. And as Rhaenyra slowly turned to face the center of the room, she caught sight of a confused Lady Harleigh standing between both Aemond and Jace, just as lost as everyone else around her. 

(Rhaenyra tried to ignore how Jacaerys took a protective step forward to block Lady Harleigh from the audience’s gaze, and how Aemond was quick to scare everyone else away with a sharp glance.)

“Lords and ladies of the court! It truly gladdens me to have you all witness this moment in history,” her father crowed while entering the room. Each word was accompanied by the sound of his cane hitting the floor as he returned to his seat. “Nearly five years have passed since my daughter has left for Dragonstone to oversee her duties as Crown Princess. There are no words I can use to describe how proud I am to have her as my legacy, and as your future queen.”

At her father’s kind booming words, Rhaenyra smiled, praying that no one noticed the tension underlying it. Not even the king himself as he finally took his rightful place at the center of the table.

“But tonight, we celebrate more than just House Targaryen. Tonight, we celebrate those who have returned to us once again,” her father boomed. “For only together, can we, as a kingdom, stay strong! For only when we stand together, will we stay united!”

A round of resounding cheers followed his words, and it was only when the crowd quieted down that her father, and the rest of the room, turned to face an undeniably horrified Lady Harleigh. 

“As both king and the head of House Targaryen, it is with great honor that I welcome you. Not just to the Red Keep, but to our family, as well.” That was the only warning her father gave before turning to face the rest of the audience of Westerosi nobility. “May I present to you all, Princess Harleigh Targaryen-Potter, granddaughter of the long-lost Princess Aerea Targaryen!"

Chapter Text

Currently being fixed! Lol the ideal goal is to at least get this one filled PROPERLY.