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Chapter Text

107 AC

Viserys had only seen one successful birth in his life, yet each time he had been near one he would say the screams of the babe and mother could nearly reach that of a Dragon’s roar. Uncomfortable unfairs for all parties involved, yet as he watched Alicent deliver him his promised son, he would admit he was surprised by how easy it came. Aemma never had it this easy, even when she gave birth to Rhaenyra on Dragonstone. But the moment those screams of life came he knew what he had believed was coming true.

His Aegon was coming.

When that slippery babe was pushed into his arms he couldn’t believe the happiness he felt, the strength that surged into his aging bones as he looked down at that babe in his arms. When that baby opened his eyes he saw it then, the twin pools of amethyst gleaming up at him through tears and screams.

A true targaryen.

Viserys could laugh, would’ve as he looked towards Alicent and showed off the babe, but when he expected to find happiness written on her face all he saw was pain, and then nearly fainted as she screamed, “Somethings wrong!” Her words breaking down into another agonizing yell as the Maester jumped to attention, scrambling back to her beside the bed as he started to ask a flurry of questions that never reached Viserys for all he could see was Aemma, his Aemma in Alicents spot. Almost one-to-one the last time he saw his late-wife alive.

Then he nie fainted as he heard the Maester, “Another babe is coming!”

Viserys stood stranded as he watched the maids and Maester run around like chickens with their heads cut off, none had expected another babe to be on his or her way, there was supposed to only be one.

But only a short while later, with Aegon taken away by a nursing maid another babe was put in his arms, another son as he was shortly told…

Yet instead of the roaring screams of a baby dragon, all he heard was a cold silence besides the whining of Aegon. The handmaid's all crowding around his poor exhausted wife who looked as if she might fall unconscious within the second. One of them finally turned to them with a sight that made his heart grow still, the second babe was the cause for the silence…

His body unnaturally still, no cry piercing the air-only a deafening silence that made the room feel colder as Viserys noticed his frail body. He was barely more skin than bone, laying almost completely motionless, the only sign of life being a slow, unsteady rise and fall of his chest. Shallow and labored, as though every intake of air was a battle he might not win.

“My lord,” the handmaiden whispered, her voice strained with dread as she stepped closer to hand him the baby, “The child…he may not survive the night. This type of silence…I fear he may be too weak, too fragile to make it.”

Visery’s felt his heart stop, another child to leave him before he himself had passed. The heartbreak might kill him, and he could only imagine how Alicent would take it. Swallowing he looked down towards his son as he was secured in his arms to find that everything stilled, even his own breath.

His eyes fixed themselves on the babe’s face; specifically on his eyes. One was a piercing, icy blue, so cold and bright that it seemed to burn like a distant, frozen star. THe other was a deep, endless black, like the depths of the Gods Eye, dark and impenetrable, as if it could swallow your soul whole.

Viserys felt his breath catch in his throat, fear and awe warring in him. He…he didn't know what to think, the Babe’s eyes in front of him seemed to know, too sharp for a newborn, a strange, haunting contrast to the life that barely seemed to fill his frail body. 

Yet this time the babe was no true Targaryen for in the light of his eye all he saw was dead, cold eyes that burned his soul like an icy star. The babe in his hands making no sound, yet being able to see right through him, into something deeper, more ancient. True Targaryen magic even if he looked nothing like one.

He knew those eyes though.

A tear slid down Viserys’ cheek as he thought to who had such eyes, his mother. Alyssa, who had the same condition even if her eyes were a different color. Targaryen purple and jade green, now turned into icy blue and murky black. Perhaps it was an omen from the gods.

Visery’s took a shaky breath, the child would live, he knew it. He would not lose the haunting echo of his family, his mothers legacy, the Gods would not allow it he was sure…

“Alyssor,” Viserys murmured, his voice trembling, yet filled with a strange certainty. “He will be called Alyssor.”

The handmaiden glanced nervously between the king and the child, whose tiny chest still barely rose with each fragile breath. His sickly body looked as though it might give up at any moment, the silence of his arrival pressing down like a weight on the room. But her liege remained transfixed, as if naming the child would somehow tether him to life, even with the mismatched eyes and small strands of black hair that protruded upon his pale, wet head.

Her fingers trembled against her arms as she looked away and returned to her Queen’s side, her eyes glancing back to the Babe as she could feel a shudder of death itself pass through her. The silence of the Babe unnerved her-that unnatural quiet of a child who had never cried, as if he already knew too much of the world’s sorrow. The pain that awaited all who took their first breath.

Then she remembered the eyes, a shiver passing through her hand as it trembled. One eye, cold and burning with a clarity that didn’t belong to a newborn, the other dark and endless as if it held the void itself. The sight of those eyes would forever chill her to the bone.

The Stranger , she thought, a wave of dread passing through her as she idly worked. Her eyes still traveled towards her king who seemed perfectly unaware, perfectly content with a babe that was touched by death .

That babe would walk the line between life and death, serving his God's needs as he wished…

Alyssor may indeed live as the king proclaimed, but with the Stranger having taken interest since the babes first breath. Giving him a life that would have been stolen by the cruelty of the world…she could only wonder what kind of debt that accrued, and what fate awaited those that the gods took interest in so early in life…

114 AC

“I heard the King is sending aid towards the Stepstones, ships, supplies, and 2000 men at least. He means for Prince Daemon to end it.”

“Finally, they’ve…”

As the maids continued down the hallway, Alyssor removed himself from the crook of darkness he had made his home. His eyes followed the maids for a short while longer before he turned inwards and continued his steps towards the entrance of the keep. Darting in and out of the shadows as he felt necessary, or keeping his head high and steps quick when someone he could afford to be seen by passed. Ser Thorne would not be kept placated by his serving girl for long.

Alyssor let a small smirk grace his face at the thought of the young girl, loyal as she was and spoke little, just as he liked. He would need to provide extra coin the next time he saw her, and save her in case his grandsire sought to punish her for what he asked of her. He perhaps should worry more about himself he thought as he nearly got caught by a pair of white cloaks, yet as they passed by, their gaunt no faster than a snail's pace he knew none knew him gone yet.

Good. That meant there was still time to visit the ships from Essos, Markus would still be there as well considering the time of day. A genuine smile started to make its way across Alyssor’s face as his fit hit the hardened path out towards the city, Helaena would be pleased with him if he managed to return to her with a new toy for her to dissect.

The city was just as bustling as he expected it to be, while Haelana was no cock-ridden boy, she still was a princess and thankfully his father had a penchant for wasting his coin on tourneys and feasts, at least he avoided the whores, though if that was because he could not get it up, both from his chair and in bed or because he actually loved Alyssor’s mother, the boy did not know. The main point being though, the merchants were in-town, in-stock, and people were everywhere. Perfect hiding places for a princling to find whatever he wished.

Right now he wished to see the only merchant who knew his specific tastes and how to keep a secret. Heading towards the docks he kept his hand tight around his coin pouch, his steps light, and towards the shadow. Since he was not blessed like his brother at the very least he had no need to hide his hair, though there was always the worry of his eyes. Too distinct, too dreadful , Alyssor rolled his eyes at the thought. But considering he was missing the more-distinct alien features of his family, he could more easily hide amongst the crowd, sometimes it paid to have the hair of the common.

Except for when you’ve seen a man quite a lot, then he could easily spot you, “Ay! My lord you’ve come for your bounty I hope to presume?”

Markus, a merchant hailing from the dunes of Dorne, and the main purveyor of the goods that Alyssor wished for. He was a man who reminded Alyssor of his father, a lot of meat upon his bones and a face that jiggled as he laughed. He may have been a sailor, but Alyssor presumed he had more than enough to keep himself full. He sold almost everything under the sun that existed within the hands of Dorne and the southernmost parts of Essos.

“Ay. I need a new insect, if you remember?” Alyssor said as he started to look over what the man was offering, nothing instantly speaking out to him which caused disappointment to build.

Markus smile only grew, a glint of gold and smell of riches building on his face as he turned his back to the prince, “Of course my lord, I remember my most valued customers wishes, I have for you here a beetle hailing from the straits of Sunspear!”

Alyssor's leg started to bounce at the thought, waiting semi-patiently as he was presented with a small metal cage wherein laid a fat black beetle with blue markings drawn across his back. Alyssor took it with a touch of reverence as Markus started to speak, “I kept it hidden, not wanting any other little lord to try and snatch it up, just for you.”

“No need to let false pleasantries stain your lips Markus, you will be paid dutifully for your efforts regardless,” Alyssor said, his head tilting to the side as he observed the beady little thing. 

Markus held back a smile as he watched the Prince, his eyes glancing to the right, “I have a wooden sword that perhaps the young Prince would enjoy?”

Alyssor frowned, his head moving away from the beetle as he faced his merchant, “I have no need for such a thing.”

Markus' face grew with mirth as he remarked, “I meant for Prince Aemond?”

Alyssor’s brow narrowed, “But he is just a babe? Won’t it be too heavy?”

“Perhaps, but even a babe would enjoy a sword such as this to swing around at the nasty dragons coming for a princess would he not?” Markus said with a shrug of his shoulders, as if he neither cared nor agreed with the thought despite being the one to suggest it.

“ Hmm,” Alyssor didn’t like the gesture Markus had made, would it be smart to give his brother something? Maybe he would like it and stop that incessant crying of his when Aegon ran off. Was he just trying to get more coin off of him? But if he was, why would he suggest something as stupid as a sword?

“ Fine. Give it here.”

“Thank you for the consideration Prince Alyssor.” Markus commented as he held it out to the Prince.

Alyssor placed the beatles cage on the table as he took the sword in his hands, examining its wooden surface he let his mind wander and suddenly said quietly, “Aemond deserves nice things. Aegon does too, doesn't he?”

Markus smiled at the question-like tone of his buyer's voice, despite being quite-intelligent and willing to go far for his sister, he still was a boy. “I believe he would appreciate the thought as well,” he said with a self-indulgent nod.

“What would you suggest? My brother is quite…fickle with his toys.” Alyssor commented with a frown at the end of his statement.

“Markus pursed his lip, he hadn’t heard much about the boy besides how he was growing up with a penchant for yelling for whatever he wanted. He mainly only heard about the False Dragon in front of him, or the Princess Rhaenyra’s inability to find a husband that suited her, and of course the feature Aegon had which his sister lacked.

Though he was a merchant, and even if he didn’t know a target personally he wouldn’t have become rich off his job if he couldn’t pick out gifts.

“I’ve yet to meet a young lad who hates sweets, perhaps some lemon cakes for the Prince? They may expire unlike your other gifts, but as you said the Prince is fickle, eh ?”

Alyssor pondered on the thought, trying to recover some pinch of memory of his brother liking lemon cakes. Nothing came to him, pressing his finger to his bottom lip he started to chew on it, “Do you have any Honeycomb…and perhaps some berries of some kind?”

“Ay, I do. Do you favor your older brother?”

Alyssor shook his head at the merchant, “No. To be plain I can’t seem to recall what he likes to eat. I’m going to just give him a small platter and hope he takes it, otherwise at least one of the maids or the Queen will.”

Markus smiled at Alyssor, nodding his head solemnly as he quickly ran around his stall and gathered what was wished for, handing towards Alyssor a small bag filled with what was requested, “I understand my Prince, I’ve done the same with my sisters before.”

Alyssor looked towards the basket, the wooden sword strapped to his hip, his mother would not be pleased with him giving such a gift to a child but he trusted Markus’s opinion on these matters. If Aemond would like a sword, he would like a sword. Even if he was forced to wait several moons to use it.

Tying the bag to his hip, he picked up the small crate which held within it his true prize, a small beetle black and round, a little fat yet still covered in streaks of dazzling blue, “What species did you say? My sister will want to know the specifics.”

Markus nodded his head shortly, placing his hands behind his back as he leaned towards Alyssor, “The Cerulean-Backed Beetle my lord. Hails from the land of Dorne like my other insects. I believe I bought this one directly from the hands of a young-child in Sunspear, perhaps your grace would wish to visit some day?”

Alyssor nodded his head solely, “If Helaena’s wishes required it.”

Markus mused on the thought, his eyes shifting from his table towards the Prince as he analyzed him, “Would the prince travel the world for the Princess?”

“Yes.” Alyssor

“Perhaps, the Prince would wish to speak more?”

“Helaena likes insects as you’ve gathered, my mother abhors it…I find it cut-” Alyssor suddenly shut his mouth, Markus lips curving into a smirk as Alyssor turned a glare onto him, “Are you trying to gather information about my family, Markus? Would you betray me as such?”

Markus burst into a fine, hearty laughter, his belly juggling with vigor as he swiped away an eyebrow, “No my lord, not at all, was just a curiosity, promise. Though would you beggar an old merchant such as myself for trying to earn a fair coin? Many would love to hear the tales of the False Dragon doting over his little sister.”

Alyssor pursed his lip, his face narrowed with thought as he tried to imagine it. Would people find such an idea enjoyable? His mother and her ladies loved to sit and talk around their tables, perhaps they would talk about something like that? If they did and the ladies liked it, maybe his mother wouldn’t yell at him this time. Reaching into his pocket he took out a few gold dragons and dropped them onto the merchants table. Markus’s eyes shot out of their sockets at the sight, his head swiveling from side to side as he quickly shot over and scooped them up.

“Tell your tale this once. Make sure some high ladies hear it, especially if they wear green. I pray I’ll see you again, Markus?”

The man’s eyes still like saucers rapidly nodded his head, “Yes, my Prince of course, in another moon I shall be back here with another insect as well for the Princess. Is there anything she wishes for?”

Alyssor thought back to what he could remember of his younger sister, she had a fondness for several of the insects she had managed to acquire, “She has this scorpion from Braavos, she’s quite enraptured with him at the moment, though she can’t let him out of the cage unless I’m there because the maids fear it. Harmless thing really, quite large though, named after an Emperor though they should’ve named it after my father.”

Markus rested his thumb underneath his chin, his eyes sparkling with thought before he nodded his head shortly, “I think I know of what you speak, I’ve yet to encounter one on my own journeys but I will ask around. Let us hope I am fruitful.”

Alyssor nodded his head in thanks, “I will pray to the seven you’re fruitful,” Alyssor said, his face not twitching an inch as Markus' smile grew bigger.

“Do you wish for me to say that to the people as well?” The merchant did not believe for a moment that a boy like Alyssor, so enamored with the ways of old, would have any such faith placed with a religion practiced in a man-made building. If he even had faith in the gods of old.

“Aye, let your lips flap, Markus.” Alyssor said, his eyes trailing towards the far corner of the market where he saw his personal guard in wait. Thorne gave a subtle nod of his head as he broke from his wall and made his way towards the Prince.

Alyssor made to bid Markus farewell when his eyes caught on a small silver figure of a dragon sitting on the edge of the table, “May I have this as well?”

Markus looked up from his payment towards the Prince and nodded his head eagerly, “As long as you keep coming back everything on my table is yours, Prince.”

“Thank you, Markus,” Alyssor said as he scooped up the figurine, examining it’s silver exterior before pocketing it. Daeron would like it he assumed, though hopefully the babe wouldn’t try to eat it. Alyssor bade Markus farewell, the sword clanking against his leg as his cloak swirled around him, soon after his sworn shield falling into step with him. Rickard letting his eyes drift around the yard as they slowly made their way back to the keep, “I gave that serving girl of yours quite a fright, were those tears real or did you ask for them to slow me down?”

“You're more perceptive than you look, Ser.”

Rickard sent a sharp look towards the Prince, his charge’s attention placed elsewhere as the jap was said. Rolling his eyes he spoke plainly, “The Queen was in quite a fright when she saw you gone, tore Maegar’s Holdfast apart in search. Though I tried to assure her that you at most went to the market, she should know what day it is.”

“Aye, in that we agree, though the day my mother realizes something can happen more than once for a reason will be the same day Aegon admits someone else is better than him.”

Rickard’s lips quirked into a small smirk as he nodded, “Aye, my lord.”

“I assume I will be brought before the King?”

“I presume so. Though if the sword and bag I saw you grab is not in fact meant solely for you, then you will get away with just a slap on the wrist even if the Queen wishes not. The King has a soft spot for his family.”

“I thought the same,” Alyssor said solemnly, his eyes drifting up towards Aegon’s Hill, drifting amongst the ramparts where he could see the white cloaks moving around at a much faster pace, gold flashing along beside them.

“Let us face the fire now then, shall we Ser Thorne?”

“Aye, we shall, though considering your birth I doubt you will be burned.”

Alyssor smirked at the thought, “Aye, I doubt the same,” but then his brow furrowed, his hand shooting to his waist where he felt the cage rattle that held his true prize for the day. Removing the cage he looked at the beetle and then towards his sworn guard, the man’s smile slowly falling as Alyssor’s smile only grew.

“He needs to be punished, Viserys! He is but 8 namedays old, he could’ve been hurt or worse!”

Alyssor fought the urge to yawn as his mother berated his father, the King sat atop the Iron Throne with a thin drawn line across his face, his eyes sunken and weary as he turned towards his wife, “Alicent, he is a boy and he came back fine.”

“A boy ?! Fine?! He is a child, your grace!” Alicent shrieked, her eyes turning towards her son as she stalked towards him and started to run her hands along his face, “Do you not understand the danger you were in? You could’ve been hurt!”

Alyssor resisted the urge to squirm in his mother’s grip, his eyes flitting from her face to the floor as bits of shame creeped up within him. She should know how these things went by now, he goes to the market every month at least once regardless of if she tries to stop him.

His mother should know how this game of theirs goes now yet she still insists on making a big deal of it. Alyssor wasn’t going to stop his actions no matter what she did, even if she tried to shame him in the middle of the street. Helaena deserves her gifts after all. Thankfully, his father would be able to get him out of this, though Alyssor would have to lay the charm on thick.

He put a smile on his face and forced his voice to the highest he could muster, turning his gaze from the floor to his father he said as loudly as he could, “I’m sorry father, I just thought of my brothers and sister,” twisting his foot in the ground he let tears build in the corner of his eye, “I just wanted them to have something nice for the day. We’re to celebrate my sister's name day tomorrow and I didn’t want them to feel left out.”

Alicent's eyes narrowed at the show of tears, Viserys on the other hand let out a boisterous laugh, “Of course my son! Come up here and show me what you got for your family.”

Alicent gaped at the sudden sequester of any sort of decorum, her eyes flying to the throne as Alyssor rushed power and stepped up towards his father. Taking a seat upon the large man’s lap he pulled the sword from his waist, displaying it before his father like he was much younger he started to babble, “The merchant said this was made by one of the finest blacksmiths in the north! They apparently even worked on Ice! It’s even made in the likeliness of Black Sister! I told the man that Aemond was too young, but he insisted that Aemond would love it, and I just…it felt like fate that I was there.”

Alyssor felt pride as he watched Viserys smile grow larger, a hand coming to rest on his back which told him all he needed to know. Markus nor anyone else would be needed to get him out of punishment, just this once his mother would be outranked, and he could only imagine how sweet the frown she bore looked. Though avoiding the punishment meant that he now would have to entertain his father for a bit. Hopefully the beetle he had gotten could last a little longer beneath the coat of Rickard before it could be delivered to its rightful owner.

Thankfully he would be freed from his fathers grasp shortly, the King getting his attention caught by Otto, which while it would sting a little, it no-longer bothered Alyssor. Besides, his mind was set on an entirely different goal.

But as he stood outside Helaena’s door he found himself hesitating, his feet shifting underneath as he looked from the prize he kept and towards the door that kept his sister from him, “Do you think she’ll like it?”

“Excuse me?” Rickard asked, his head tilting as he looked away from the maids that stood staring at the two, the heads bowed together.

“Yes or no, Ser.” Alyssor said impatiently, his head shifting towards his guard as he fixed the man with a glare.

Rickard held back a smile, “Aye, I do. It is a gift from her favorite brother.”

“…” Alyssor froze, his eyes going wide as saucers before he quietly asked, “Do you mean it? Do you think I’m her favorite?”

“Yes, easily.” 

Rickard had no doubt about it, Aegon found himself too busy gathering the attention of whatever little lady or lord stood around him, and Aemond was much too young. Not to mention their mother’s obvious distaste for the “weirdness” all liked to attribute to the small girl, and the King’s lack of awareness about anything concerning his family. Thus it was easy to deduce that if she were to have a favorite he would be it, though there is also the fact that he is the only one she smiles at, which from the talk of the maids it is the highlight of alls day when they see Alyssor grace Helaena with his presence.

“Good. That’s really good,” Alyssor's smile grows larger as his chest swells, reaching out and knocking on the door quickly, one of the nursemaids opening it shortly. A soft smile appeared on her face as he announced the two.

“I’m sorry for intruding, Maester,” Alyssor said shortly as he stepped inside, nodding his head to the old man who was going over lessons with his two younger siblings.

The Maester waved his hand, “It is of no consequence my Prince, we were just finishing up.”

Both of his younger siblings turned to look at him, Aemond’s eyes blinking off kilter as he tilted his head while Helaena was completely still. Alyssor offered the two of them a smile as he strode forth, the Maester gathering up his scrolls and imparting some final words of High Valaryian before he left the siblings.

“How were your lessons?” He started, his eyes occasionally drifting towards Helaena before fixing them on the excited Aemond, “Great! The Maester was telling us about Dragons!”

Alyssor looked down at his brother with fondness, his interest in the dragons was adorable and Alyssor only wished to have a dragon of his own like his brother with which he could show the boy, or at least the boy had an egg of his own and a baby dragon to care for. If anyone deserved it, it was Aemond, just like Aegon, Alyssor imagined he would care greatly for his beast turned friend.

“Well I do not have a dragon for a daring prince, I do still have a sword for him,” Alyssor said dramatically as he knelt before his brother and pulled a wooden sword from his waist, smirking up at Aemond as he presented the sword, “If he shall take this fearsome blade, and save the darling princess?”

Aemonds mouth dropped open, jumping out of his seat as he stood before his brother, his hands going towards the blade and then pulling back as he looked Alyssor in the eye, “Can I?”

Alyssor's smile grew, “Of course. It is yours now. Tis not real steel, but it is a start.”

Aemond slowly reached out and took the blade, his hands finding the base of the blade which he held off-kilter. Alyssor reached out and adjusted his grip before smiling at his brother who still seemed shocked about his new gift, “Go give it a few swings. Just be careful of the maids and breakables.”

Aemond nodded his head swiftly before running over to the entrance, showing his gift off to Rickard before he started to give it a few weak test swings, his untrained arms and legs providing little support for the heavy weight of the sword. Alyssor watched the scene with love building deep within his eyes before he turned to his sister who had taken the beetle from his waist without him realizing…

Alyssor rolled his eyes but took a seat beside Helaena who was just beginning to open up the cage. Releasing the beetle from it’s holding as she reached a delicate hand inside, “It’s a Cerulean-Backed Beetle, hails from the straits of Dorne,” he said softly, Helaena’s head tilting to the side as he lifted the beetle out into the open air.

The blue streaks along the beatles back as Alyssor leaned forward, finding it beautiful despite its spindle arms which whirled around in the air before finding purchase on Helaena’s palms, “It’s beautiful, thank you Alyssor.”

“I’m glad you think so, I got it through a connection in Dorne. He promised to bring me another next month, one of the Emperor Scorpions you’re so fond off.”

Helaena’s eyes went wide, her head turning on a swivel towards him, the smile already growing as she asked, “Really?”

“Yes. If you have any preferences I can ask him to look the next time I see him?”

Helaena rapidly nodded her head, “Yes. Plenty.”

Alyssors smile grew as he nodded his head in return, “Very well, we can discuss it when he gets closer to his return?”

“I would like that, Alyssor,” Helaena said, gracing him with the beautiful smile of hers which caused his face to heat up with flames. Turning away from her he looked towards his brother who was currently practicing strikes, Sir Thorne guiding him ever-so slightly so that it didn’t look as if he was abandoning his duty but also still providing Aemond a little nudge where he needed it.

Though in Alyssor’s eyes Aemond was still just a babe, perhaps he had passed his 5th nameday just recently, so not much of a babe anymore, but Alyssor could still remember how Aemond looked swaddled in his mother’s arms. He and Helaena had been like that once too, swaddled as Daeron was now. 

Ah…he could’ve gotten Daeron a toy as well, or something of the sort from the market. Hopefully the babe wouldn’t hold it against him, he never really intended to get his other siblings something either it just happened that way. Perhaps he should start to pay attention to them all equally? His mother had told him to care for them, and he hadn’t intended on letting his attention slowly be placed onto Helaena.

Thought for later.

Alyssor turned back towards Helaena, shifting over to where she was he watched as she admired her new beetle friend, letting it walk across her skin like an explorer. His eyes drifted between the two of them, examining the beetle before looking back and examining Helaena. She had dimpled cheeks, pale skin and hair as fitting for her Targaryen heritage. Purple eyes like fine amethysts that could pierce through the veil of any darkness.

Alyssor pursed his lip, reaching up and pulling at his own hair, a dark black curl like coal springing into his eye before bouncing up to his forehead. Alyssor bit his lip until it bled…

Closing his eyes with a huff he pressed his back into the sofa, he was a Targaryen in all but physical features, well that and a dragon…

No hair. No eyes. No dragon. Just name.

The only thing that saved him from being called a bastard of some knight like Ser Criston Cole was the fact he was born a twin…wasn’t that just great? His entire life being predicated on his brother’s birth. Which was also his birth, yet none cared for that fact. Just the mocking reminders of a “false dragon” that had no bite and no roar.

Or as those more bold like to say; a walking omen of death …

“The sun will be smothered by a loom of green spinning silk of fire,” Helaena muttered, Alyssor’s eyes snapped open, finding Helaena’s own staring directly through him, his soul burning from its touch, “Fire creeps beneath boards of home, the poison begins to spread.”

This hadn’t been the first time Alyssor had heard such words come from her mouth, she had said “weird” things semi-often, not all targeted at him, sometimes at Aemond, Viserys and other other times at Rhaenyra and her guard. Occasionally even directed at a passing maid. Yet he seemed to be the only one who made connections between the phrasing and words, everyone else just thought her unusual. Blaming it likewise on her unladylike interest in insects.

He hadn’t intended on asking just yet, but feeling that haunting gaze stare at his neck as if he were to die…Alyssor looked towards Aemond, “You know brother, Aegon should be in the yard right now. Perhaps Ser Thorne would take you and help you start to practice?”

The knight made room to argue, yet when his eyes fell upon the ecstatic Aemond who just sparkled with joy and desire, then drifted to his sworn ward, the hardness that was there which left no room for argument, meant he could only sigh and nod his head, “Very well, let us embark Prince Aemond.”

Alyssor watched them go, waiting until the door was shut and he was truly alone with his sister before turning to her. Helaena had returned back to her bug, obviously having felt her piece had been said, and either expected him to ignore her like so many others or thought her duty was done. Alyssor swallowed down his nerves, ignoring the burning feeling in his gut as he slid to his knees next to her, hesitating slightly he gently reached out for Heleana’s hand, taking it in his own and rubbing his thumb into the back of her hand.

“Helaena?”

He waited until she looked up at him, amethyst finding coal Helaena’s head tilting cutely as he struggled to offer a comforting smile, “Do you dream?”

Helaena’s brow furrowed, “Dream?”

Alyssor swallowed and shook his head, “Yes. Not like a normal nightmare,” he tried to explain, struggling to find the words as he looked to the floor, “But like our ancestors…Daenerys? Of the future? Things that may harm?”

Helaena’s hand froze beneath his, Alyssor continued his machinations of rubbing her skin, offering his heat, his blood, his entire being if she so wished. Looking back up he found her eyes brimmed with tears, a distant look in her eyes as if she was staring right through him.

“Helaena?”

A single tear dropped from Helaena’s eyes and Alyssor felt his heart clinch, a painful disease spreading through his chest as he knew for certain the truth…

“Helaena…I’m here for you…I’m on your side.”

“Hand turns loom; spool of green, spool of black, dragons of flesh, weaving dragons of thread.”

Alyssor clenched his eyes shut, a shaky breath falling from his lips as he tried to think on what he had just heard.

Hand turns loom; spool of green, spool of black, dragons of flesh, weaving dragons of thread.

The sun will be smothered by a loom of green spinning silk of fire. Fire creeps beneath boards of home, the poison begins to spread.

What could it all mean…and why did the gods place such a burden upon his sister of all people?

Cruel beings indeed.

And now what was he to do? What could he do? He could not just tell other people of her gift, or act as if he had the gift. He was just a child, just like she and none would take them seriously, they already viewed Helaena as weird, and viewed Alyssor as a fake…trying to proclaim either dreamers would look as if they were trying to get attention.

Gods and adults were cruel, they chose only to believe what was directly in front of them with no imagination for what could be done for a future.

They may not believe him a dragon, but Alyssor would not let his sister be brought low, be treated as she had and overlooked for the gift she did not want. He would stand beside her, he would protect her, cherish her and help her. To listen and act on what it is she wished.

Reaching out he took Helaena in his arms, the young girl just letting it happen, collapsing in his hold as if she was a sack of flour. All her weight fell on him as he leaned backwards and tucked her head beneath his chin.

“I’ll protect you, Helaena. I promise.”

“I know,” was all she said in return, and Alyssor truly did hope she knew.

If she trusted him with her secret then the least he could do was protect her from the snakes that circled at court, the ears he saw pressed to walls, and words he heard sprinkled through windows.

She would not be crushed underneath the foot of adults seeking more power…and he would not forget to cast his coat towards his brothers as well. Helaena may hold his heart, but the blood of the dragon runs thick through them all regardless of what people believe, and Alyssor would not leave his siblings stranded.

They would survive whatever threat was to come, with the gift of Helaena on their side and the strength of dragons behind him they would succeed no matter what. He would make certain of it.

A single tear fell from his eye as he clenched Helaena tighter, holding her closer and tighter he mumbled, “ I love you Helaena. ”

Alyssor lounged on the edge of his window, drapes drifting along the edge of his shoulder as he pressed his finger into the page, reading over the history of his house. Hightowers, not Targaryens this time. He had been forced to leave Halaena so she could get ready for the feast tonight, his dress taking much less time to put together, leaving him to sit with his thoughts. Halaena’s revelation was a big deal in his mind.

Dragon Dreamers were rare, and truth be told he really didn’t know what to do about it. A sigh left his lips as he looked back towards his paper, the Hightower Houses’ Valyrian Steel sword staring back at him. He pressed his thumb into the blade’s etched features, his lips pursing as he thought of Dark Sister. If he had a blade like that he couldn’t be looked down upon…people may respect him then, but he would never get to own one. A second son of a Queen put second.

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of his door being opened. Footsteps soon followed yet Alyssor did not look up from his page until he heard a delicate cough laced with uncharacteristic firm steel. HIs brow furrowed as he turned his head to find his mother standing across from him with a narrowed expression. 

Alyssor’s eyes widened slightly he hadn’t expected her presence so soon, or perhaps for her to say anything at all after their encounter that morn with his father. Perhaps she had been sulking, or pleading for more punishment with Viserys, but never for her to come to him. Pressing a mark into the crease of his book he set it aside as he got up and placed a charming smile onto his face, “Yes, mother?”

“Come here, I wish to speak with you,” Alicent said, gesturing him forward, Alyssor wanted to question why, but knew after his stunt this morning he was already on thin ice with her.

So he sighed mutely as his eyes found the floor for a moment and stepped forward until he stood right before her, Alicent looking down upon him with her wide brown eyes before she bent down and placed a hand on her knee. The other reached out and pulled on his cheek sharply. He grimaced at the action as he tried to move her hand, “ Owe ! Mom!”

“Don’t mom , me! What have I told you about going to the market without telling me?! It’s dangerous. Your father may not want to punish you, but I’m not going to let this go. If you do it again I will have Ser Rickard dismissed and you forced into your room for a Sennight at least!”

Alyssor’s eyes snapped open, finding his mother’s stern expression he tried to let tears appear, which wasn’t hard considering the grip she had on her face, “B-but I just wanted to get my siblings a present…”

Alicent raised an eyebrow, eyes widened slightly with her lips pressed into a thin line, without a single word needing to be spoken Alyssor could tell her question loud and clear.

“Yes, really…well kind of…you know I get Helaena a present every month.”

Alyssor finally admitted it, his eyes darting to the floor as he knew well how his mother felt about his adventures. Alicent sighing across from him, her grip losing some of its pinch as Alyssor just looked towards her feet. He knew what he was doing could put him in danger, he just didn’t see why it mattered at all. He wasn’t like Aegon, he didn’t have the Targaryen hair nor was his face cared for as a potential heir. He was just Alyssor, the disgusting false dragon, touched by the Stranger and the abyss that took the sin of Aegon, hair burned black and irises of a dead-man.

No matter how much Alicent may have tried to fight those rumors, the keep had too many voices and too many ears.

Alyssor knew well what people thought of his existence, he didn’t need more, so why not find solace in the few people who actually cared about him. Like sweet Helaena.

“I don’t see why it matters…or why you care .” Alyssor spit, pulling himself back from Alicent as she was left to gape at him.

“Alyssor…how could you think that?” Alicent said quietly, pain reeking through her voice that only served to make Alyssor annoyed, was she really so blind?

“We’ve done this dance back and forth before mother,” Alyssor said ignoring her question, his eyes drifting to the sky as he wished he could be flying amongst the clouds right now, “Can’t you just let me do as I wish?”

Alyssor heard Alicent sigh, her hands reached back out for him as she said, “First, Alyssor I do care, but also you know we have a duty. To our family and to the crown. We can’t be seen in public as you do, we can’t act out. Duty and sacrifice are what we live to do.”

Alyssor grimaced, duty and sacrifice , disgusting words, why must he sacrifice himself to a throne that would never care for him, a country which saw him as a blight. The only things he needed to care for was himself and Helaena. Everything else came second at most, if not being trampled completely underneath his desire for choice.

“I don’t see why that matters,” Alyssor muttered, leveling his gaze with his mother who’s eyes furrowed and blinked multiple times, “I’m stained mother, they will never trust me in anything of value, just like my uncle .”

Alyssor barely had time to jump as he felt Alicent grip his arm so tightly it felt as if his bones would break, his mothers voice reaching a deadly low level, “Don’t compare yourself to that…that… beast . You’re a Hightower, you…you aren’t stained . Where did you even hear such things?”

Alyssor looked her in the eye and just muttered, “You're hurting me.”

Alicent’s eyes jumped into her brow, her hand instantly leaving his arm as she stumbled backwards, “ Ah ! I’m sorry Alyssor, I didn’t mean to,” she mumbled staring at her hand with what looked like horror before she was right again on top of him, looking down on him with gentle eyes as she ran her hand over his arm almost soothingly.

“I’m sorry Alyssor, you just…I love you and your father loves you, we all cherish you and your brother .”

Alyssor bit his tongue almost hard enough for it to bleed, raising his gaze to his mother's. Lies, all lies. He knew it, for he saw it with his own two eyes. So, he let a smile envelop his features as he tried to ignore the hurt that blossomed in his chest, “I know mother.”

Alicent smile grew finger as she brushed her fingers through his hair, caressing the side of his face. Her thumb moving to his cheekbone before she said, “Good. Good, now let us go get your brothers before we break dinner with your father and Rhaenyra.”

Alyssor nodded his head, reaching his arm out he let platitudinal joy fill his eyes as he gave her a sweet smile, “Let’s mother.”

As the two left the room, Alicent squeezed his hand, Alyssor looking up at her as she set a stern look on her face, “And Alyssor, I do not want you leaving the keep as you wish anymore, and I don’t want to hear anymore of this "stained" or "Daemon" talk, you’re a Hightower and Targaryen. Take pride in that.”

Alyssor nodded his head dutifully, “Okay mom. I won’t.”

Once more Alyssor found it amusing how people enjoyed hearing what they wanted. Lies believed so easily by those who wished to believe it. Though just because it was amusing didn’t make his heart feel as heavy as lead, his shoulders were minutely shaking as he struggled to keep himself in shoulder to shoulder with his mother. His voice was soft and quick to ascent to each of her questions or words as she talked besides him.

Offer them your platitude, give them food, and entertain and you will have love and praise. Except for when they hated you just for existing.

Alyssor could appeal to those who knew him, but those who knew of him and already made up their mind he could do nothing but accept. Though perhaps he truly was what they thought he was. Lies came to him easy, a roguish nature already developing unbefitting of the seven who he barely dared to preach for. Dark staining a legacy of pride and white, if only he had been born with Aegon’s hair and eyes…then perhaps he would have truly been fitting of kingly blood.

He was not worthy of what ran through his veins…so why would he try to appease that? What was the point…?

“Is everything okay, Alyssor?” Alicent asked softly, looking towards her son, she knew their talk was heavy and while Alyssor had assured her, she noticed his face had slowly grown moody as they walked.

Alyssor just looked up at her and nodded his head softly, “I’m okay.”

Just play pretend, and live to see the next day.

Alyssor knew more than ever that he hated feasts, even if this one was in celebration of his sisters nameday it still was exhausting. Food thick and filled with enough oil to cause his heart to burst, people inncescentialy kissing each other's asses, mainly his brothers or mothers, not to mention he had been sat next to Rhaenyra and his father rather than Aemond, Helaena, or even his mother.

Alyssor discreetly glanced towards his half-sister, the young woman was just picking at her food, eyes downcast and hand slowly moving around her plate. Though even with the rather bored, or even sullen look on her face she still carried an air of divinity, the Realms Delight indeed. 

Alyssor couldn’t help but shift uncomfortably in his seat, he knew quite well why his half-sister was in a glum mood, or well he could guess it at least. It more than likely was because of his father shutting her down again, he had a habit of expecting her to act like an adult, while not giving her any responsibilities or treating her as such. Their father may love and favor Rhaenyra more than the rest, but he had no clue how to handle the keys to her heart.

Clearing his throat he leaned over slightly, Rhaenyra’s eyes flitting to him which gave him enough room to tentatively open the room to conversation, “Well I must say the chefs did a good job with the lemon cakes?”

He winced at his tone, berating himself for not speaking more confidently and for choosing lemon cakes of all things to talk about!

“They’re fine,” she replied flatly, her voice cool and indifferent, which did slightly hurt. Alyssor may not be the most exuberant or outward child, but he knew his sister loved sweets…

He should’ve tried something else. Alyssor then watched as Rhaenyra’s attention drifted back to the feast around them. Their father said something to both of them, but neither child processed it, Rhaenyra giving a bare acknowledgement while Alyssor shifted more in his seat.

He wished the floor would swallow him whole, he was being subjected to a dull feast, and had foolishly attempted to ask a silly question in the hopes of breaking this wall of ice that separated the two of them. Instead he had only served to settle that chill over the both of them.

His eyes washed over the feast before turning towards the opposite end of the table…where he met his mother’s eyes, Alicent, giving him a hard stare. Alyssor forced down a wince, after his early actions and now he could just feel the stone slab of disapproval being set upon his shoulders. The tension between her and Rhaenyra had only worsened with the whispers of Rhaenyra’s possible marriage tour, something that Alicent had readily encouraged, which only led to the king pushing for it as well. Leaving Rhaenyra left alone in this increasing divide between their family, with her only boon being he promised to give her the right to choose.

Alyssor lowered his head, biting his lip he just mumbled, “Right, of course sister.”

He didn’t miss how Rhaenyra’s hand gripped tighter around the silver fork in her hand, leaving him to wonder if he and his siblings ever really stood a chance to bridge their families? Or if his mother and Rhaenyra’s ire had already forever set the motion of their relationship…

Though maybe it was more because of his…no, Aegon’s existence. Alyssor looked out to the crowds of nobles. There amongst them was his brother, preening at the attention being placed upon him. Perfect Targaryen hair and eyes, with enough charm and smugness to win him favor without getting him knocked flat on his ass. The perfect heir with a cock, rather than a woman…

Maybe he was doomed to forever fail someone, his hair failed the eyes of the people, and his reputation failed the eyes of his mother.

Alyssor took a soft breath as the music started to wane to a softer tune, the jubilance of the dancefloor cooling down just enough to where youngling lords and ladies started to dance with either each other, or a family member. Alyssor tilted his head at the sight, it wasn’t the first time such a thing had occurred, but it was still rather interesting. He had been taking dance lessons for a while now, and could probably go out there and not embarrass himself like a fool…

Well he had nothing better to do.

Standing up he took a breath before he left his seat and started to walk behind his family's table, his mothers eyes following him as he stopped beside her and placed a kiss, her hand patting his shoulder yet he didn’t give her the time to ask him what he was doing. Continuing forward he ignored the other eyes that trailed after him. His father’s people held no respect for him for his cursed Hightower blood, but many still would grasp for the power he may provide, a step closer to the throne even though the third-in-line is better than nothing.

But none of that mattered as his sweet Helaena came into his view, his sister seeming just as bored as he was. Her face set in a small pout, her hands fiddling absentmindedly with the edge of her gown. Alyssor smiled, his chest warming at the sight of her sweet, sulking expression. He already knew why she was upset; their mother made her leave her new insect behind, which meant all she had for company was Alicent now that Aemond had been sent away, being too young and tired to stay for the rest of the evening.

Since she and him didn’t have that excuse, mainly since she was who the celebration was for, that meant he had the perfect line to spend even more time with his beloved sister.

Alyssor cleared his throat as he stepped next to her, doing his best to sound overly serious like one of their knights, yet unable to stop the grin that tugged at his lips. “Princess Helaena, might I have this dance?”

Helaena blinked, her pout fading as she looked up at him in surprise, her eyes growing wide, “Dance?” she asked, her voice soft, as if she wasn’t sure he was serious.

Alyssor nodded gently, offering his hand with dramatic flourish, bowing slightly as he tried to look as gallant as possible, “Of course! It’s your nameday feast, after all. You should be dancing, not pouting.”

Helaena’s lips twitched, almost a smile, but she hesitated with a shy glance towards the crowd, “But…I’ve never done it in public before.”

“Neither have I,” Alyssor said with a grin, leaning closer whispering into her ear with a teasing glint, “but we can pretend, like we’re Baelon and Alyssa.”

Helaena’s eyes widened a little more at the mention of Baelon and Alyssa, their grandsire and mother. Her father had told her the stories of them at their feasts and balls, how Alyssa and Baelon made the entire world fade away with their excitement and joy. Her small hands clenching the edge of her gown, “But they knew how to dance, Alyssor,” she whispered back, her cheeks flushing, “Everyone’s going to be watching…what if I trip?”

Alyssor didn’t laugh, his smile unwaning as he reached out and took her hand in his, giving it a reassuring squeeze, “Then we’ll both trip, and no one will care because it’s your nameday. Besides,” he added a wink, “I’ll make sure to catch you if you fall. That’s what I’m here for isn’t it?”

Helaena hesitated for a moment longer, her eyes darting to the crowd again before they softened. Alyssor had promised to take care of her, and she knew he would again and again. He always did his best to ensure she felt safe, comfortable, and if she truly said no here she knew he would accept it. But he also had a way of making it feel like no matter what when they were together it was their own little world, no matter how big the room may be or how many people watched.

Slowly a smile crept onto her face, squeezing his hand back she nodded. “Alright,” she said, her voice barely a whisper, “but you can’t laugh.”

Alyssor grinned, his chest swelling with this small victory. “Deal,” he said, pulling her up gently and towards the floor.

Alicent watched from her seat, her eyes softening as she observed Alyssor lead Heleana onto the floor. After their conversation from earlier she had been more than worried about her son. She had not done enough to squash the court's view of her darling son, the whispers which proclaimed him more trouble than she was worth. Her fist tightened around her dress, digging into it as she thought about what he had said.

People couldn’t see what was in front of them, perhaps Alyssor was more headstrong than most, but no matter what he cared for his family and that should be an example that he wasn’t “ touched by the Stranger .” Insanity, all of it, she was a devout follower of the Seven, but they believed her son less, or worse just because of difficulties regarding the days following his birth? He had grown healthy and strong, eyes full of life and hair just like her. He was a splitting image of his brother besides a few traits, which just meant he looked more like her, like her brother. Alicent smiled at the thought, her eyes following along the crowd where she could already catch the whispers starting once more.

Their talk annoyed her, he was a good son even with his rough edges, said rough edges seeming to smooth with the protectiveness and care he showed his younger sister. A slight smile tugged at the corners of Alicent’s lips. As she looked back towards her son and daughter she watched Alyssor twist Helaena around, erecting a delightful bout of giggle from her lips. Perhaps he’s not so wild after all , she thought, though she knew how the court would see it. Her eyes flicked back to the people gathered at the edges of the hall.

The lords and ladies exchanged murmurs behind their jeweled goblets, whispers darting between them as they watched the scene unfold. To them, Alyssor was a troubling enigma—a prince whose fiery temper and restless spirit cast shadows on his reputation. They watched with disapproval as he danced with Helaena, the sweet and delicate daughter of the Crown, one of its prized "jewels."

"The boy’s reckless," Alicent overheard one noblewoman whisper to her companion, their eyes narrowing. "To think he can just take her out like that, without care for how it looks..."

"Bad influence," another muttered under his breath. "The princess deserves better company than him."

Alicent resisted the urge to snarl at the lot of them, the whispers and her reaction would only further serve to strengthen her step-daughter's inheritance, and unruly opinion of her. They thought it fit to judge her darling children, when Rhaneyra’s opulence was on air for all to see? She shrugged her duties daily, refused to look for a husband even while being given boons unworthy, yet her son was the one who they questioned. The one who they saw as lesser just because he looked more Hightower than Targaryen.

The Hightowers were an ancient, noble, powerful house of Westeros, yet they judged her son just because he had the last name, Targaryen? He carried two ancient legacies, not one upon his shoulder, was that not befitting more pride?

Reaching out she took a sip of her goblet, giving a vague assurance to her husband who made a jape about something as she looked back to her children. The two seemed more than happy to ignore the court's judgment and that filled her heart with pride. They looked lost in their own little world, twirling and tumbling at the edge of the crowd, people giving them a birth as the two laughed together. Helaena radiating joy, her face lighting up as Alyssor twirled her clumsily, yet still keeping a protective edge as he never let her fall too far. They thankfully didn’t need approval, not from whispers or the sharp gazes. Not now.

Alicent’s chest tightened as she caught the look on her son’s face, the way he so carefully guided his sister despite their playful steps. For all the talk of Alyssor being wild, no one in this room could see what she saw; the fierce love and loyalty he carried for his family, especially for Helaena. They wouldn’t understand that beneath the fiery exterior, Alyssor would do anything to make his sister smile.

As Alyssor spun Helaena again, her laughter filling the hall, Alicent allowed herself a brief, private smile. Let them talk, let them whisper their concerns about her son. In this moment, her children were happy, and that was all that mattered.

But her smile faltered slightly as she noticed some of the more influential lords whispering with growing disdain. Their disapproval was not only about Alyssor's reputation, it was about influence, the crown's future, and the image of their "jewel" Helaena and his brother Aegon. Alicent felt the pressure of the court’s expectations weighing on her, but she pushed it aside, keeping her gaze on her children, who danced freely, unbothered by the world outside their bond.

Alyssor was still young, she reminded herself, perhaps the image would fade. Besides, Helaena, Aemon, Aegon, they loved him. That was enough for now. 

The music swelled before simmering out into a slower tune, Alyssor and Helaena’s steps following the tune as the people around them did the same. Their steps become less rushed and awkward, adjusting to the gentle tempo with a deliberate determination. A soft laugh left Alyssor’s lips, his chest heaving in align with Helaena’s, her pale cheeks flushed with excitement as their eyes met with a sparkling joyfulness.

Alyssor felt hints of pride at the look, flashing her a playful grin, ‘See?” her voice breathless, yet filled with happiness, “You did perfectly, didn’t even step on my feet once.”

Helaena giggled softly, her laughter light as a breeze, their hands still gripped tight as the two slowed to a stop, “Only because you were helping me.”

Alyssor rolled her eyes, bent over slightly and kissed the back of both of her hands, “We’re family, that’s what big brothers are for.”

Helaena blessed him with a soft smile as the two of them just stood there, catching their breath and grinning carefree, oblivious to the crowd watching their private little moment.

That was until the magic was broken and Alyssor’s eyes flicked to the crowd around them. His smile twitched, ignoring the voice that spilled it’s vile expectations he turned back towards Helaena, never letting his smile fade. They wouldn’t ruin this for him.

Squeezing her hand tighter, he pulled her closer and turned back towards the royal table, whispering with a faint laugh, “We showed them, didn’t we?”

Helaena tilted her head up at him, her expression growing softer as she glanced around. Her own purple eyes drifting across the various expressions, confusion drifting over her at why they didn’t laugh yet still seemed angry. Like Aegon when she had accidentally dropped a cockroach and it climbed onto him.

“Did we?” she muttered slightly.

Alyssor laughed in a way that didn’t meet his eyes, the duel-colored orbs lost the sparkle of the stars as he said back, “Don’t worry about them. It’s just us, anyway.”

She smiled at that, her shyness seeming to fade completely as she leaned her body into his, “I like it better that way, just you and me.”

Alyssor’s heart swelled at her words. This was it, this was what he wanted. It didn’t matter what people like to whisper in the shadows, disapproving looks or muttered words, Helaena didn’t care about that kinda stuff. She just saw him, her brother, not some would-be troublemaker or sinful creation. He was just Alyssor.

Hopefully his other siblings would think the same.

Alyssor’s eyes flicked towards the table where he could see a bored Rhaenyra, his heart wilting a little as he knew one sibling only saw him as his birth, just in a manner different from the Nobles and Ladies.

Turning back to Helaena he gently let go of his hand, and bowed with a little flourish, a playful smile appearing on his face, “Thank you for the dance, my lady,” he said, his voice full of exaggerated formality.

Helaena tilted her head, a small giggle falling from her lips before she awkwardly curtised, “Anytime, my lord,” her eyes crinkled with amusement as the two continued their trek up the steps.

Alyssor took her back to her seat, watching her sit he asked one final thing before he left her to head back towards his own, “Did you have a good time?”

“Of course, I was with you after all,” she responded cheekily, wiggling in her seat with excitement as she turned back to her place.

Alyssor smiled genuinely, a heaviness in his heart breaking away at the fact that she was truly happy. That even with the weight of her dreams she could still find at least a sliver of happiness in this world, not to mention that happiness was brought in part because of him.

Saying goodbye he headed towards his own chair, stopping briefly by his mother who he kissed on the cheek. Alicent smiled wide at him, “Thank you, for doing that. I know she was bored.”

“It was my pleasure,” Alyssor commented, 

“Ah, Alyssor, I think Aegon wants you.”

Alyssor looked to where his mother gestured, finding his brother, Aegon, with a smug smile on his face as he attempted to wave him over. Biting his tongue he forced a smile towards his mother as he nodded his head, “Very well, I'll go say hi.”

Alyssor kept his lights as he headed back towards the crowd, not looking towards Helaena whose innocent gaze he could feel follow him with concern. Placing a smile on his face he approached Aegon, taking note of the lords that surrounded them whose eyes gleamed with pride, and whose bodies reeked of a vage smugness fit only for Lannisters.

“Alyssor! There you are!” Aegon exclaimed loudly, throwing an arm over his twin as if they were best friends, pointing his hand towards his friends he continued, “I was just telling my friends here about you.”

Alyssor gave them a short nod of his head, keeping his smile he let the honeyed words spin, “Really dear brother? I can’t imagine there’s anything worth telling.”

Aegon’s grin widened, his friends laughing as if on cue, “Oh, just the usual,” his eyes glinting with the slyness of a snake as he pulled their heads together, his hand tightening on Alyssor’s shoulder as his voice dropped into a low, teasing growl just loud enough for his friends to hear, “But you must tell me brother…do you really bleed black as the maids claim?”

The group erupted into laughter, finding the dumb joke hilarious apparently. Aegon himself doubled over. Alyssor's smile grew tense, placing his hand behind his back he grabbed his hand and clenched it until he felt a hot liquid drip across his palm. Forcing himself to stay still, he breathed slowly through his nose. Don’t punch him. Not here. Not in front of all these people.

“No, my blood is the same as our families.” His words sharp and distinct, eyes unwavering as he looked between each of Aegon’s friends, not addressing them as the same, each of them bristling under the cold dead look. Yet one of the older boys didn’t seem to catch the message, whether that be because he was several cups deep or looked down on Alyssor for his age and looks, either way it didn’t matter. He still chose to speak.

“Perhaps the Prince’s blood is just…” his voice slurred as he flashed his friends a smile, friends who's own diminished rapidly, “watered down…maybe that’s why his dragon didn’t hatch like Aegons.”

Alyssor felt the insult like the slap from his mother, his blood boiling beneath his skin. He could hear Aegon’s other friends shifting uncomfortably, their laughter fading even quicker into awkward silence. The smug boy’s eyes slowly dimming, his flushed face turning sour as he noticed Alyssor’s fist clenching at his side.

The sting of his self-inflicted cut grounding him to reality as he forced himself to relax, to stay in control . He couldn’t lash out; not here, not in front of all these lords and ladies. He didn’t have that right, that luxury . He had to let the insult go, even if the urge to strike back burned inside him, with white-hot rage.

“Careful now,” all eyes turned towards the sharp voice edged with a warning, “Alyssor is still my blood. No one insults my family, not even in jest.”

The boy started to quickly sober, his face paling as he stuttered, “I-I didn’t mean-”

“Good,” Aegon cut him off, his hand squeezing Alyssor’s shoulder, “I reserve the right to make a joke with my brother. None else do,” he smiled sharply at his friends, and for once in a good while Alyssor felt truly proud of his brother. For despite the playfulness of his tone, his eyes and lips were sharp in their speared defense of him.

And he almost gave his brother thanks for saying it, the only thing holding him back being the annoying, boisterous laughter that still wandered around his ears. The gratitude he felt dissolved into a thick, slurred disappointment that left him feeling hollow. Breaking from his brother’s grip he waved them goodbye, “If that's all, I think I will take my leave, Brother. Enjoy your night.”

He had nothing more to say to them, nothing to say to the boy who insulted him. They would all talk, and even more would listen. For now , Alyssor would let them do as they wished. He had no dragon, no skill, or fame. But he would get one. He would make them all recognize him, no matter what. He would prove them all that he was not some stain on his family's legacies, that he was proof of their ailing power under his fathers reign.

As he started to move through the crowd, his pulse pounding beneath his skin, he could feel Helaena’s gaze on him. The deep, innocent pools followed him as he moved towards the door. He paused just beneath a pillar, turning back briefly as his eyes caught her own, and even in his anger he offered her a comforting smile.

Helaena saw him. She trusted him. What more mattered than that?

If his being was truly as black as they all said it was then Helaena would be his guiding light, no matter the storm he would weather, or the endless abyss he would trek, she would be there he knew it. No matter what she would always be on his side, and if there was one thing he wouldn’t do it would be to break that trust.

Whatever the future held, whatever her dreams said, Alyssor would place his trust in her, and follow her light till he truly joined the Stranger as his son …

Chapter Text

117 AC

Alyssor watched silently from the top of the stares as Rhaenyra made her way through the hall of nobles, them parting around her, mouths dropped far enough for an army of flies to make home. His eyes followed the Princess, his half-sister being forced to carry a new-born babe through the holdfast, her face caked in sweat, hair disarrayed, she was a dragon and made to prostrate herself as such? Her husband just going along with it? Knowing how the Princess was similar in some manners to their shared Uncle, Alyssor would wager she chose this path.

Alyssor grimaced, walking along the bannister he mimicked his sister's movements, his eyes drifting towards the trail of blood that followed her up the steps. He knew his mother was angry, he knew she could be vile, but this? This was an insult, a travesty and his father would just accept it, Alyssor was sure of that fact. He would fail to see the intricacies like normal, too pleased at the idea of his “family” becoming greater.

He came to a stop right at the edge of the top of the staircase, his eyes taking notice of how his sister gripped the babe in her arms, how Laenor hunched next to her and tried to help her to the best of his abilities.

Is that what a husband does? Is that how a proper husband acts? To care for your wife immediately after the throes of labor yet miss the actual birth?

Maybe if there was actual love between Laenor and Rhaenyra then he would stomach the sight of the birth of his son.

Alyssor thought to his sister, Halaena, she would be expected to do this wouldn't she? She was only 8 namedays old, yet his family had tried to marry off his brother at barely 2. Would they give her to some lord in the North or perhaps a Lannister? Shore up relations. The thought made his stomach roll. Halaena, forced to leave the capitol, her home, the place she found comfort…and most importantly leave him alone?

As Rhaenyra and Laenor ascended the stairs the two of them finally noticed him, Laenors eyes widening while Rhaenyra just stared at him exhausted. Alyssor nodded his head towards the both of them, his sister truly was a dragon through and through. Though a dragon's bond with its family was apparently flimsy. His father and sister showed that quite well.

Which only led him to wonder if this child would grow up looking like him, or like their mother and supposed father . Treasonous thoughts, but truth nonetheless, and only Viserys was blind to see it. Even at just 3, the strong , healthy features of his nephews were plain for all to see.

Clenching his fingers tight behind his back, his face drawn in a well-practiced, soft smile, “I’m glad to see you well your grace, to know the babe has come through true and healthy is wonderful.”

Rhaenyra swallowed, a droplet of sweat dripping down her forehead as she spoke in a pained voice that made Alyssor consider going up to his mothers room and throttling her for doing such a vile thing, “Thank you brother.”

Alyssor watched them go and he truly felt pity for Rhaenyra, perhaps if Rhaenyra was born in a different time she truly could’ve become a Queen. Instead she was born with a fool for a father who failed to see the delicacy of succession he had made with his weak reign. Not even including the matter of things he had settled with his own succession. Matters of the heir were settled by gender alone now, regardless of age, and by still trying to throw the farce of her heirship in the lords and ladies faces all he did further was tarnish his own reputation.

“My Prince, Halaena has requested your appearance.”

Alyssor didn’t flinch at the sudden voice of the Kingsguard, hardly even registered what was said besides one word, Halaena . Turning on a dime he ignored the proceedings further and strode past the guard whose eyes went wide before he turned on a dime and tried to keep up.

Without paying mind to any he passed he arrived swiftly to his sisters room, a frown already on his face as he burst open the doors without a care in the world, his eyes scanning the room, filtering out the squabbling of the septa. Thankfully the maids knew to be silent, and just as he was looking for her, Halaena’s attention was already on him. Purple amethyst locking his soul and dragging them into the depths of the unknown.

Alyssor made his way towards Halaena’s side, his hands placed behind his back as the two of them looked at each other. His eyes flicked to her left or right, one side holding a small pile of thread which she was currently placing into a handkerchief before pulling out the other end attached to a needle. The other empty except for a small case of bugs, bending over he asked softly, “May I?”

Halaena gave a brief nod, Alyssor quickly shifted her things over just a smidge so he could fit next to his sister on the sofa, his thigh pressed against hers as he tried to make himself as small as possible. Though his leg which was trapped against the hardwood arm found it keen to bounce slightly which annoyed him, but even if he glared at it he knew nothing would change the nerves that bounded through his system. Halaena just had a way of doing such things to him.

Making him nervous with just her presence, with just a smile and sending his stomach tumbling in a pile of knots. He didn’t understand it. But he feared what may happen if he did. Maybe the Maesters would try and call him mad like his Uncle, what horror that would be. First a “False Dragon” and then the “third coming of Maegor,” he would actually die of embarrassment. Though the way he was feeling could only be explained by madness, he only ever felt disappointment, in his sister, in his mother and father, in that incessant fool of a knight who was ruining his brother. Except for Halaena, she made him feel different.

Madness. It must be.

“Aemond will be made to close an eye,” Alyssor’s eyes widened, his eyes turned towards the maids and knight which stood at the entrance as he barked, “Out! All of you now!”

Shooting from his seat as they tried to argue, but he didn’t care. Pointing towards the guard he said, “Clear the room. No one is allowed to enter until I am done speaking with my sister.”

The knight swallowed at the burning glare of his princling, nodding his head shortly after he complied with the orders. And only once the room was empty he turned back towards his sister and fell to his knees, looking up at her Halaenas hands still weaving her embroidery as she watched the needle go in and out.

Reaching out he hesitated just over his sister's hands, debating whether to touch her or not, to break her from her feeling of safety that gave her the brief opportunity to speak and truly be heard. As her hands stilled their work he took it as an okay, reaching out slowly and watching her face for refusal until he had his hands safely wrapped around hers. Halaena once more looked up from her work towards his face as she said, “Be with him or our house begins to blind. Siblings are cruel beings. They do not see you for as you are, only the old, the new, and the to be. But none are ideal.”

Alyssor furrowed his brow, filing away each word she said before finally speaking, “Me?”

Halaena shook her head, “You.”

Alyssor pursed his lip, she was still speaking of Aemond then. Or perhaps someone else close by? A riddle he would need to uncover. Aemond would be made to close an eye, that much was certain and if it had to do with cruel brothers he could only imagine what “funny prank” Aegon decided to cook up.

Leaning up he kissed his sister on the forehead, “Thank you, Halaena. For the blessing of your gift.”

Halaena looked up at him, her dolefully purple eyes blinking slowly before she offered him a blinding smile. Alyssor’s heart clenched in his chest as he let a small smile form on his face. The fact that Halaena could still smile despite all she was made to see, was a blessing in and of itself.

Sighing forlornly to himself at the fact he would have to sacrifice this blessing he made to walk to the entrance of the room when he felt a slender hand place itself on his wrist, pausing he turned his head and looked at Halaena confused, “Will you stay?”

Mad. He is going mad.

Turning he sat besides his sister again, leaning back into the soft contour of the sofa as he leaned on his arm, his hand taking Halaena’s as he placed a kiss to the back of it in mimic of what he saw Ser Rickard do for some of the ladies they came across. Giving her a soft, genuine smile, “Anything for you Halaena.”

“ Maybe going mad isn’t such a bad thing ,” Alyssor thought as he watched Halaena’s hands move in and out of the embroidery. His eyes moved from watching the handkerchief she was working on, to looking at how her face caught the light of the sun.

Then there was the talking, Halaena rarely talked more than a few sentences, especially around others, but even with her maids let back into the room she continued to speak and he adored it. Right now he was getting a run-down on all the different kinds of stitching she could do now. Since the last time she had told him, she apparently had learned two more stitching types. The fact that there was more than one kind of stitch baffled Alyssor to be honest, yet he would never tell Halaena that, nor how he could care less about stitching. He had no interest in embroidery, but if she would continue to talk, and ask for him to be with her than he would listen. For that was the true joy.

Out of all his family, Alyssor felt like only Halaena truly understood him. There were two others who might, but both rarely talked to him, and one hated his guts for the hair and eyes he had been cursed with even though his precious niece had done the same with her heir.

Alyssor shook his head, focusing back on the sound of Halaena’s voice; he waited for a lull in her talk to ask, “What are you embroidering?”

He already learned the last time that she was never making something, it was always embroidering. If she was making something then she would be making the cloth, or the fabric with which she did her embroidery.

“Scarf,” Halaena said, looking away from her work for just a moment to smile at him.

“Is there any reason why?” He asked, tilting his head to try and get a look at what design she was creating, it was the image of a sun into a black silk. The yellows stood out bright against the muted color, and in his opinion it was well done.

“You will need my favor.”

The nannies in the room froze, their heads turning towards their Prince and Princess, each specifically watching as Alyssor himself sat still like a rock, his brow furrowed as he blinked slowly. He was leaning over her shoulder now, Halaena either not carrying or oblivious to his closeness as he seemed to try and grapple with what she had said.

“Favor?” Came Alyssors stilted voice, an octave higher than it usually was as his surprise grew.

“Yes,” Halaena chirped, her eyes turning to him before she dropped her face towards the ground, her voice losing its smile, “Unless you do not wish it?”

Alyssor’s eyes widened and he quickly spit, “Of course I want it!” And as he hears the maids giggle, Alyssor winced, resisting the urge to slap his face. Halaena looked at him, her eyes starting to sparkle as Alyssor felt heat creep up his neck.

“I mean…I do want it, I just was surprised since I can’t even participate in a tourney yet.” He mumbled quietly, his eyes looking everywhere except for Halaena or the maids, going from the floor to the roof, to the wall.

The maids looked from the flustered Prince to their princess who was beaming, Halaena’s smile wide and massive as she looked up at her big brother. Each of them shared a look before they got immediately back to work, keeping their heads low, yet preparing to tell everyone of what they saw.

The day then began to wane, the maids slowly leaving the two siblings alone as they got lost in their conversations. Alyssor about his studies or visits into the city, while Halaena told him about the new bug he had bought her. Their conversation going down a familiar matter until Halaena said, "You're a good kisser."

Alyssor froze, his eyes blinking slowly as he filtered what Halaena had said, his sister sitting on the ground next to him in her hands the insect he had bought from the market a few mornings ago. The bug's legs clambering across her palm as she let it fall from one hand to the next.

"W-we've never kissed?" He spluttered, confused and dazed by his sister's sudden profession.

Kissing wasn’t something you did with your sister, it was something that lovers and parents do. He had never thought about kissing Halaena, but after what she just said his face couldn’t help but creep with heat.

"When the loom of green begins to weave the dragons of thread we shall be made to kiss, less the loom begins to break." Halaena said, her head tilting to the side as she guided the beetle along to the back of her hand.

Alyssor looked down at her, his mouth strewn with worry at what she had said. What it meant for their family. He was the only one who understood her, and the idea that anyone may begin to weave the threads of his house worried him. It may mean a marriage...and if they tried to marry her off...

Alyssor's eye twitched, any embarrassment he may have had faded away in an instant. He was a Targaryen, and he knew she always meant it when she spoke in such a way. 

His hand clenching tight as he knelt down to his sister. Her eyes unflinching from the object of her curiosity, a soft smile made its way onto his face. His sister was sweet, and adorable, and he would do anything to protect her.  He had never considered his feelings in such a way as to include the type of affection…that Aegon or his Grandsire had for their sisters. But maybe…maybe Targaryen madness truly was a real thing.

He reached out and parted her hair behind her ear, "What if I kissed you now?"

Halaena's head tilted, finally looking up at him with her deep, soulful gaze she asked, "Why would you do that?"

Alyssor smothered the hurt that started to crawl in his chest, they were both so young and she was so burdened with glorious purpose. There was still time, for the both of them…he hoped. His smile dropped slightly he murmured, "I...I love you Halaena."

Hearing him say that Halaena's smile grew a little brighter, "I love you too, Alyssor."

Alyssor breathed a little heavier, leaning forward he placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. Staying for just a second longer before he abided by decorum, leaning back he looked into Halaena’s purple eyes and said, “I’ll protect you, Halaena. I promise.”

“I know,” was all she said in return, and Alyssor truly did hope she knew.

Sadly fate isn’t kind to Targaryen Princes or Princesses, and that single promise he made to his sister would be much harder to keep due to the interference of his dear grandsire…

Alyssor creeped through the shadowy entrance of the Dragonpit, his eyes drifting amongst the assembled party of Keepers, his siblings standing proud in the center, well Aegon at least, while Aemond stood silently behind him, “ Sunfyre, stop .”

Alyssor smiled slightly at the High Valyrian that rolled off his brother's tongue, it had been harder for Aegon to learn, but he was glad his brother took the time anyway. He could still remember when Aegon used common tongue to try and train his dragon, it had driven Alyssor mad. He eventually just had to drag his brother to the library, and while it had taken a few moons to become heavily fluent, Alyssor refused to let either of them leave until it had been done. Now Aegon could speak as easily as any True Targaryen, which meant a deeper connection to their roots, along with extra secrecy to speak directly in front of lords and ladies.

As his brother led the dragon through the directions of the Head Dragon Keeper, Alyssor stepped forward, the Kingsguard finally noticing him, yet paying no mind as he continued towards his brothers. Paying little heed to the Valaryian that flowed from the mouth of the head keeper he looked around the area, surprise flowing through him as he noticed his nephew standing with a guard…only three yet his mother must have sent him to the Dragonpit to learn more about the creature that hung around his neck.

The dragon was still very small, in its infancy still, a pretty olive color rolling over its stomach, flanked by a deep brown resting on its upper hide. The dragon's yellow eye followed him, Alyssor studying it for a moment before looking away. His eye catching on the tufts of black hair that spread from his nephews head. That sight caused vile venom to seep into Alyssors throat, his fist clenching behind his back as he shut down the words that threatened to erupt. He had no dragon. He had no hair or eyes. Yet he was trueborn, and still questioned? The fact that an egg hatched for Jaecarys and his brother, yet would not hatch for Alyssor…

Madness ran through his mind, but not out of favor, out of anger. Fire roared in his blood as Alyssor forced his head high. Sending a short glance towards his brother, Aegon finally noticed and smiled at Alyssor’s presence, giving him a nod before he turned back to his dragon at the behest of the head keeper. Alyssor placed a hand on Aemonds back, the young boy looking up at him, his eyes jumping up a little yet he didn’t acknowledge Alyssors presence further.

Though it shouldn’t be too big of a surprise, Alyssor at one point could almost always be found in the Dragonpit…he had grown obsessed with it after Vermax hatched. Alyssor bit his tongue, bile rising once more. Focusing on Aegon, he watched as Sunfyre was ordered to approach the lamb, burn it, and feast. Aegon guiding his bonded creature with ease akin to how Halaena could embroidery whatever she wished.

Alyssor envied it. Aegon still had it all…

Looking towards Aemond, he knew his younger brother felt the same, 7 and yet he also had no dragon and was looked down on for it just in the same way. The two of them found kinship in that fact, even outside of their own blood, and Alyssor would have to admit he did have a soft spot for his brother due to it. Though as Melissa would often tease him, his favor obviously rested with another sibling even more.

Sunfyre responded with several clicks and snaps before walking towards his dinner and lighting it a-flame, all watching on as he stepped towards the burnt meat and started to feat. Alyssor looked at Aegon who was still enamored in the golden skin of his dragon, the only thing he loved more than himself Alyssor would wager. Something Alyssor couldn’t fault, if he had a dragon he would love it just as much, and in Aegon’s case that dragon was probably the only thing that truly gave him unconditional love and support.

Everything had a price in Westeros, everything except a dragon's devotion to its bonds apparently. A feeling that was returned in kind, as Aegon obviously loved Sunfyre..

An itch of hurt building in his chest as he quelled the feelings burning in his chest, the anger and pain at his own failures fading away as he felt an arm thrown around his shoulder, “You arrived in perfect time, Brother!”

His mirror-matched face drew a wide smile as he punched Alyssor in the shoulder before walking towards their younger brother, grabbing Aemond by the shoulders as he started to pull him towards the walkway that led to the caverns of the pit, “I got a surprise for our dear brother here, and now we both shall get to see it!”

Alyssor furrowed his brow as Aemond froze beside him, his eyes drifting from the two as he placed a hand on Aemonds shoulder and kneeled, “Brother?”

“Alyssor,” Aemond sent him a strained smile, his eyes shifting from Alyssor towards Aegon who was directing one of the Keepers towards the depth of the Dragonspit.

“What is it?” He asked softly, rubbing his thumb into his brother's shoulder, trying to urge the rather quiet and small boy to speak.

Aemond looked towards Alyssor and offered him a small smile that looked more akin to a grimace, “Aegon…he’s going to make fun of me again.”

“ What? ” Alyssor said harshly, Aemond flinching at the sound before he quickly spoke, “He just mentions how I don’t have a dragon, and our nephews do. He does it often. And I just know he’ll probably do it again.”

Alyssor bit back a scorching remark, placating his face to a smile that did not hide the venomous sheen in his eyes he patted his brother on the back, “Go to the keep Aemond.”

“But…”

“No. Go to the keep, I need to speak with our brother,” Alyssor said sharply as he stood up and without another word started to descend towards the dragon pit where his brother waited just before the black haze. The only confirmation that Aemond listened was the soft shifting of sand and boot.

Alyssor tried to control his anger as he walked towards his oblivious brother, his fist unclenching and clenching as he debated what to say, what to question about what he had heard. Alyssor did his best to pay attention to his brothers, though he wouldn’t say he was perfect. Mainly using gifts, and tales of his adventures into the city to keep them placated. His attention was more focused on his own discoveries, both in the hopes of finding a way to hatch his dragon egg, and generally enjoying freedom away from the oppressive eyes of the Keep. He may have learned how to use some of the eyes which lived in the walls, that just didn’t make it easier to be okay with all of them.

Yet maybe letting his attention wane from his brothers and their relationship had been a mistake…

Scree-

It was a mistake .

The moment that screeching squeal of a pig hit his ears Alyssor saw red. Aegon turning to him with a smile about to say something only to find a fist slamming into his face and sending him harsh onto the floor, Aegon letting out an undignified yell before the dirt was tossed aside as Alyssor crouched down and pulled him up by the scraps of his shirt, pulling them face to face as Aegon starred into black eyes rimmed with hatred.

“What the fuck , is that?”

Aegon blinked a few times, trying to get the dirt out of his eyes as he commented, “What…” his hand drawing to his face as pain started to creep in, “You hit me?”

His mind trying to comprehend the two realities at once before Alyssor shook  him harshly, “And I will do so again, if you do not explain yourself!”

“What? Explain myself!?” Aegon shouted, indignation flaring in his chest alongside anger as he tried to push his brother off him, just to be met with heavy resistance as Alyssor slammed him into the ground and forced them nose to nose.

Aegon letting out a grunt as Alyssor seethed, his eyes flicking to the beast which had been adorned with wings and a saddle, burning glaring holes into the Keeper who just dropped the lead and slowly walked away, “Aemond? Our brother? Our blood?! You would disgrace him as such, as to present a pig!”

“It was a joke,” Aegon grumbled, his head hurting from the shaking and cheek aching from the punch, “You don’t need to be a dick about it.”

“ A joke?! ”

Aegon furrowed his brow, his mind still a bit hazy as he started to feel anger boil in his chest at the pain that flared through his head, slamming his hands into Alyssors chest which finally sent his brother back he said, “Yeah. A joke.”

Alyssor glared at Aegon, “Have you no shame? Do you even look at Aemond in the aftermath, or do you only enjoy his misery ?”

Aegon rolled his eyes, wiping the corner of his mouth he muttered, “Aemond is fine. He acts all mopy but he enjoys our jokes.”

Alyssor shot forward, grasping for Aegon whose eyes went wide, one brother scooting backwards while the other stalked forward, “He is 7! So what if he doesn’t have a dragon! I do not! Do you look down on me!?”

Aegon's head recoiled backwards, his mouth forming into a frown, “No! Of course not!”

“Then why do it to Aemond!”  Alyssor shouted, his hands reaching out towards Aegon, wanting to strangle his twin before he drew them back and forced breath into his lungs.

“Because…because…I don’t know!” Aegon yelled back, his eyes shooting up to his brother whose chest was heaving, a disappointed look on his face as he looked down at Aegon.

“He is your younger brother, you’re blood, we’re supposed to protect him. Care for him.”

Aegon's face turned into a frown, his eyes sparking with fire as he started to get up, “Why does it matter! We’re brothers, he can take my japs just like you did it. No one else will care for him, if you baby him he’ll just turn out like Halaena,” Aegon took a step towards Alyssor, pointing a finger towards him, “Weird.”

He then pointed to himself as he continued his rant, “Besides! I’m your twin, yet you show no care for me. Why does it matter if I mess around with our siblings once in a while, they have to learn sometime!”

Alyssor closed his eyes and took a terse breath, pity and sadness building in his chest at the fact the two of them were only 10, and already such division was building. Their mother may try, but succeed in parenting? She did not. Though anything was better than the absolute neglect of their father.

“Halaena is not weird . She is our sister, just as much Aemond is our brother. It was my mistake for not showing my own care, and for that I shall try to do better,” He spoke quietly, his head shaking as tried to comprehend it all, “But our brother? Really? ”

Aegon flinched, shame building in his chest as he couldn't find the strength to look at his brother anymore, “He’ll survive.”

“I can’t believe you,” Alyssor muttered, getting closer he reached out and grabbed Aegon by the face, forcing him to look back at him, “You and I are the same. We’re twins, as you said . We both grew up as we did, and now why wouldn’t we protect our siblings from that fate.”

Aegon’s eyes widened, heat creeping into his cheeks to accompany the shame. He truly hadn’t thought it fully through, but this was just the way of things? It was supposed to be a jape made, you laugh either at yourself or the other and everyone was happy. His brow furrowed, and he watched in real time as his brother’s multicolored gaze grew more and more disappointed.

Casting his own eyes to the floor he muttered a bare, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize to me, Aegon. Apologize to Aemond, he’s the one who deserves it,” Alyssor said, turning away from his brother and trudging up the walkway towards the entrance.

Aegon looked at him leave, his black hair being disgruntled and filled with sand as he left. Aegon remained behind with only the accompanying squeal of the pig he felt the anger start to build. Scooping up the dirt he tossed it towards the pig, getting a shrill yelp in return as it scurried away as well, leaving Aegon alone and feeling worse than ever.

Falling back into the sand he grumbled to himself, letting his arms flail out as he heard the words, “ Have you no shame? Do you even look at Aemond in the aftermath, or do you only enjoy his misery ?”

Aegon bit his lip…

Fuck .

Sitting up he got to his feet, dusting off his shoulders and hair he started to make his way towards the entrance, unknowingly retracing his brother's steps as he saw a White Cloak waiting for him. Gesturing him along he stepped out into the sunlight, blocking the light shining down on him he said, “Come along, I need to go to the library.”

Aemond was obsessed with dragons. That’s why this all started…he had found his brother weird for being so interested in something he didn’t have.

“ Halaena is not weird . She is our sister, just as much Aemond is. ”

Aegon sighed, fine, if his brother wanted to be obsessed, Aegon would let him be obsessed. His family wanted to be weird, then he would let them be weird and Alyssor be pushy. He would just feed into that weirdness then…besides at least it might piss off his mother. He knew that she never liked any interest in Dragons. She was the reason he hadn’t even tried to ride his own yet.

Perhaps if he did this it would make Alyssor happier with him, Aemond happy as well, and make his mother notice him more…

Yeah. Three things with one action!

Aegon smiled to himself, why hadn’t he thought of it before?

Alicent’s annoyance at her husband's brevity with his eldest daughter had yet to cease, they had little conversations about Rhaenyra’s and Laenor’s sons . He would never see the truth of the matter Alicent knew now and that made her senses hum with anger. She was not a stranger to court, not any longer and she heard the words spoken about their lives. About Rhaenyra, and about Alicent and her own children.

And just as that anger started to fade she learned about the scuffle her sons had in the Dragonpit, thankfully away from the majority of prying eyes, but word still found its way back to her and she knew before long her father would hear of it to and then she would be subjected to more of his preaching. Yet she didn't know why he still did so, she was Queen now. Her word was supposed to be law and she said her children were fine.

Yes, perhaps Alyssor left the keep more often than he should and abandoned his lessons, but he still passed the tests given to him, he still trained and studied just in his own way. Perhaps Halaena enjoyed unladylike passions, but she still embroidered, and while Alicent couldn’t understand it, what was the harm? Aegon…may have odd joys for a young age but maybe they could try and teach him…?

Alicent cut at her cuticles, a terse sigh falling from her lips, she didn’t know what to do. Her children are out of control in her fathers eyes, and if he saw that what did everyone else see? Alicent saw them trying, she saw how they enjoyed their lives…wasn’t that what childhood was about?

Rhaenyra will kill them for the throne .

Alicent bit her lip, she should try harder. Make them understand the terror of their future. They needed to be ready, Viserys would get them killed if not exiled at least. They would lose everything they deserved. She had sacrificed so much for this-

“Otto Hightower, your Grace.”

Alicent raised her head as her father walked into her room, her maids bowing to him as he took his slow, yet dutiful steps towards her. Like always his presence commanded her attention, and forced her to listen. Even if she was Queen of the 7 Kingdoms. Her maids bowed to him as he walked by them, and with a simple wave of her hand they were gone. She may still listen to her father, but the string of power lain between them has changed. 

She turned away from him and towards the burning fire stretched before her, her face cast in its dying burn as she held her hand to her breast. A chill creeping through her bones despite the heat of King’s Landing that crept along the breeze of her windows.

Her father chose not to break the silence…Alicent bent her lip, she was still that little girl dressed in her mother’s clothes standing before a man twice her age wasn’t she?

 “What may I do for you?” She asked.

Her father’s head tilted ever so slightly, his beard moving as if he was chewing on whatever vile thought had brought him before her. Yet what he finally said was nowhere near what she expected, “I believe it wise that your son be sent to squire for your brother.”

Alicent’s eyes fluttered, her hand wrapping around her fingers and clenching it so hard that it felt as if with just a single move she could snap them in half. Swallowing her thoughts she asked, “Which one?”

Though she feared she already knew the answer.

“Aegon’s twin, Alyssor.”

Aegon’s twin.

Alicent’s throat bobbed, a bead of sweat dripping down her temple. She meant to send her son away, for what reason? He was only 10, that was around the squiring age for a normal boy, but her son wasn’t normal. He was a Targayren Prince, it would be shameful to have him squire for anyone less…

“That would only further the words spoken ill about him, you must know that?” She implored, raising her eyes to her father who only judged her with the cold, distant touch that had been there since he had been sent away by the King, he was only invited to the castle for this brief time after she had prostate herself before the king on the premise of it being her youngests birthday soon. Yet her father still had the guile to treat her as such.

“If he is raised by Hightowers, away from the court's eye what will they say when he returns?” Alicents eyes widened, her brow furrowing quickly, “You do mean for him to return , eventually?”

Otto placed a hand on her arm, Alicent looking toward it with confusion before turning back to face him as he sighed, “I love our family, Alicent, he is my blood just the same and hearing the words spoken brings me no joy. But you must admit the boy does nothing to help his cause.”

Alicent bristled in her spot, “He is a boy, he does nothing worse than his brother.”

“It is of no consequence if he acts like a boy in the eyes of the court, he is a prince and even in Oldtown we hear of his actions. That he may become Daemon reborn.”

Alicent ripped her shoulder from her father’s touch, anger rising within her as she pointed her finger in his face, “ Never compare my son to that man .”

She heard the same. Even from Alyssor’s own lips, and the very thought that her sweet boy, who brought his sister gifts every month, showered her with his attention when her other brother would not. Who cared just the same for his other siblings, just in a different way. He was nothing like his uncle . Gooseflesh appeared on her arms at the thought, they may share distant blood, but her son was no vile beast like the Cannibal, he was protective of his family and cared for them. He just sought entertainment in ways that were unordinary for others.

Otto looked at her unimpressed, “He has become unruly. His exploits outside the keep? Even the people speak of it now, though whether he is revered or feared it is hard to say.”

“He is just a boy, all he does is toss coin around and buy as he pleases.”

“Spoiled. That is what they call him next.”

“As if the Princess-” Alicent bit her tongue, clenching her eyes tight she breathed hard through her nose, inside the Red Keep even the walls had ears.

“What else, hmm ? What else could a boy get up to that causes enough mischief to warrant leaving his family?”

Otto sighed, grabbing the crook of her elbow, his thumb pressing hard into her flesh as he pulled her face to face with him, “I will lay it plainly before you, your grace. It is not what he does, but how he looks . His actions, the tale-spinning , all of it reflect badly on not the crown, but you . On Aegon . And I do not think I need to tell you how precarious your children’s position is, considering the Princesses actions?”

He then pushed her back and walked towards her table, his hands placed in the center of his back, as he spoke calmly and diligently, despite his heated words, “We will call him back when we need him, but as it stands he is dragonless, treated as a second-son, and of no value. Let him be knighted, let him gain experience from prying eyes and learn what it means to be a Hightower . 

Otto turned to look at her, his stormy eyes residing on her face as ambition burned bright in the eye of the storm. Like a tower overlooking a raging sea, its light breaking through the dark storm clouds that rumbled with danger.

“Then when the time is right he will join his brother, and they will be stronger than ever.”

Alicent looked toward the floor…that would…it would give him a purpose. Isn’t that what all men who stand to inherit nothing want? A purpose, to serve his family.

Alicent walked towards her father, taking a seat at her desk and she started to pen a letter to her uncle and brother. Detailing her wishes, and what their plan was for Alyssor. Yet when she was done, the final line drafted with ink and the weight of what she was doing set in, the path she was taking, she couldn’t help but to take a breath. Looking up from the lit flames of the candle to her father she asked, “This…this is the proper path?”

“Sending him away means he won’t be with his family,” Alicent tried to argue, her gaze raising to her fathers, “He loves his younger siblings. Do you not see how he acts with them? Doing this just…it's like we’re punishing him! How will Aemond and Daeron take it? Halaena? They love him, they cherish his support. If we strip that away what message does it send?”

Otto tsk’d , Alicent flinching as his hand tightened around her shoulder, “My Queen, as we’ve discussed, there is order to this sort of thing. Allowing him to discover himself elsewhere will combat the silly words about his birth, about his looks .”

Alicent felt tears well in her eyes…she had failed and her father just reminded her how much she had. She hadn’t made Alyssor like Aegon, she had let her foolish, childish intent lead her to the Sept where she begged for a daughter like her mother. Yet instead she got a son, unlike her mother in all manners besides the hair that bounced around his head, and one stealy eye which accompanied a piercing blue that saw right through her. She had failed Alyssor from birth.

Alicent bit her lip and signed the papers in her name. Feeling lost as each stretch of ink drew her name closer to completion. Perhaps she could have avoided this if she raised her children better, if she taught them better. Highered better teachers, done something, anything . She had failed, and for that failure her son would be sent away.

As her name was finished on the paper, Otto let out a pleased hum and made his way towards the entrance of the room. Alicent watched his turn back as she raised one last complaint, “What about Rhaenyra’s sons?”

Otto paused, turning his head over his shoulder, “What about them?”

Alicent let out a huff, her hand curling tight around the pen in her hand, “She gets to flaunt her insults around the capital and not be punished, yet I must send a trueborn son away just for his looks ?”

Otto raised an eyebrow, “It’s unbecoming of a queen to complain about fairness, ” he remarked as he turned back towards the door.

His hand fell upon the handle as she remarked, “It’s unbecoming of a Queen to let a second-son dictate how she raises her child.”

“It’s for the good of our house.” He remarked without looking back.

Alicent placed her head on her hand, staring down at the paper forlornly and murmured, “I hope.”

Alyssor let a smile splay wide across his lips as he walked the ramparts of the castle, for once letting his emotions show wide in public for all to see if they just looked up. His feat picked high in an almost skip-like manner before he jumped up onto the crevice of the parapet, the wind buffeting him from all sides where with just a single movement perhaps he would fall off.

Alyssor’s body leaned with the wind, holdings his arms out he let it buffet his body, eyes drifting towards the city below as he could only imagine what falling would feel like…

His body tipped a little closer to the ledge, his gaze drifting across the houses below, admiring their ugly, cramped features. The city had been hastily built and the awful stench that rose from it alongside the houses which held the common folk spoke wonders to that feature. If only Kings Landing had been built with the kind of care that his Hightower ancestors had taken with building Oldtown, imagine how it would look then?

“My lord, please get off the ledge before you give this knight of yours a heart attack.”

“ Hmm? ” Alyssor’s musing was lost in the wind as he turned his head to look at Ser Thorne behind him, the young knight looking as if he was a second away from jumping and grabbing him off the parapet himself.

Alyssor flashed him a grin but ascented to the decision, turning around he hoped off in a single emotion, “No worries Ser Thorne, I do not think my father would’ve taken your head if I had fallen. My mother might’ve though.”

“The Queen may have my head just for bringing you out here.”

Rickard responded in kind, Alyssor shrugging his shoulders as he said, “Perhaps at one point, but I think we’ve reached an understanding about my proclivity for fresh air.”

Rickard gave an astute nod of his head, “My thought are the same.”

“I don’t enjoy a  sworn sword who will change his opinion, Ser Thorne. Speak as you will, you should know that by now.”

Rickard rolled his eyes behind his metal helm, his voice filled with mock annoyance as he said, “As you wish, my Prince.”

“Thank you, now come let us find out what mischief we may get up to before dinner.”

Alyssor said with a grin, after the day he had nothing could be ruined. He got to punch Aegon in the face, even if he was an annoyance it had felt nice, then he learned his brother had been spotted with Aemond in the library which gave him hope. Then his time with Halaena had been spent quite well, all things considered, and he had hope for their future.

“I would expect nothing less.”

Life was never that kind to Alyssor though, and the moment he entered the keep he was met with the ghastly face of his mother, her usual beauty and happiness morphed into tears…?

Alyssor’s face filtered to confusion and worry as he ran up to her, taking her hands in his he asked, “Mother? What’s wrong?”

Alicent’s wet eyes looked down at him with a sad form of happiness, glimmers of regret dampening the burning heat he usually saw as she reached out and parted his curls to the side, “My son…my beautiful son.”

Alyssor furrowed his eyebrows, his hand clenching around Alicent’s as he murmured, “Mother?”

“May we speak…in private, Alyssor?”

“Uhm…yes mother?” 

Alicant’s behavior both confused and worried him, he had never seen her like this, so just…despondent? It warned of nothing good, at least he knew he wasn’t in trouble once more, she was always angry at him when that happened, not just…quiet.

It hadn’t taken them long to find an empty solar, the two standing together in the room Alicent looking out the window while he leaned against a table. His attention completely focused on her out of just plain worry.

“What did you wish to speak of mother?”

Alicent sighed softly, sadness in each breath as if she had lost a piece of herself. Turning towards him she said softly, “You know I love you, Alyssor. Right?”

“...yes?” 

“Good…that’s good,” she walked towards him, taking his hands much like he had hers. She started to speak, “I’m…you're being sent to Oldtown. A raven has been sent to your Uncle and the Lord of Oldtown, we will have your squire underneath Gwayne until you’re knighted, at which point you will come back a man ready to serve.”

Alyssor’s mouth fell open, his heart starting to hammer in his chest as sparks of anger started to gather into a raging firestorm, “ What ?”

Alicent smiled weakly, leaning over she kissed him on the forehead before leaning hers against his, “I have no other choice, my sweet son.”

Alyssor swallowed hard, “No…choice?”

“I didn’t want this, but your behavior as of late, your arguments with Aegon, and your…”

Alyssor felt bile rise in his throat, burning underneath his tongue until he feared he would no longer be able to speak.

“I did not wish to do this, but I’ve been left with little options. Since you’ve refused to listen to your Maesters, refused to stay within your expectations, your duty . I’ve decided with your Grandsire to give you a purpose.”

“My duty…” Alyssor pulled his hands quickly from Alicent, jumping back from her, his back hit the wood hard, his body stumbling. Pain spread through his lower back. “You would send me away?”

“I do not wish to, I want anything more than for you to stay here with me, with our family, but we must all make sacrifices.“

“Sacrifices?” Alyssor felt the tears start to pool on his eyes, his vision growing hazy as pain built in his temple, reaching up he tore at the fringes of his hair pushing it towards her as he yelled, "Is my hair not sacrifice enough, is this accursed flesh not sacrifice enough!”

Alicent looked aghast, pressing a hand over her breast she reached to him with the other, “Aly-“

Alyssor wretched his hand away from her grasp once more, his body starting to shake as he stuttered to find the words, a vile fire burning in his throat that threatened to burn whoever stood before him as if he was Balerion reborn, “No mother! You look at me and you listen. I am more Hightower than Targaryen and all know it! The son without a dragon while Rhaenyras half-breeds do! A lizard playing dragon they call me, and you would send me away? Prove to all that I am a failure?”

Alicent felt her heart break. This time she kept her hands to herself, her voice losing any of the strength it had against her father as she murmured back, “God's no, Alyssor! You’re not a failure. I would never think of you as such.”

Alyssor swallowed, his hands starting to pull harder at his hair until it felt as if he would rip the strands straight out, a dull, dry laugh falling from his wet lips, “ Heh , then why are you sending me away…? Why mom…”

Alicent knew why , she knew it as easily as she breathed. He was born in her blood. That was why . The Hightowers were reaching so high that many  thought them trying to stand amongst the Dragons that flew above them all. Her father had built that tower brick by brick, and her child with Viserys was proof of that all. And because of their tower, her son had to pay the price. But she did not love him any less for it.

However she could not tell him that, tell him even more than he already suspected it was because of how he looked. That may truly break him.

So she lied as she had once before, when she told Viserys she loved him. She held no love for the man that sullied her children as such. That love had faded the moment his favor became clear and not even.

“It…I…I think this is for the best. Get you away from Halaena and your siblings for a few years, not forever but just a short time so that you may grow .”

Alyssor felt like he had been shot straight through with an arrow, he may have honestly preferred to just jump off the rampart those few minutes ago that now felt like a dream. “A short time…Daeron doesn’t even have a memory of me? What are you going to tell him about an older brother he never gets to see?”

“You will be becoming a knight, there it will be a great honor to yourself and your house. Daeron and the rest of your siblings will understand.” She said softly, her head falling low as she couldn’t bear to look into his tearful eyes.

Her son never cried. She had struck him deep.

“What if I do not wish to be a knight? To go to Oldtown?”

Alicent’s nails dug into her cuticles, tearing at the flesh as easily as a wolf tore skin from bone, “This is the way of the world, Alyssor, we must all do what is best for our families.”

Alicent raised her head to find her son's face soaked with red hot tears, his eyes burning bright with hatred that made her shrivel inside. Reaching out hesitantly, her hands shaking, she made contact with his face. Alyssor didn’t even flinch. Alicent started to run her thumb across his cheek, even in tears he looked just as she remembered her mother. The tears perhaps even reminded her more of the later, Alerie Hightower. The sad, trembling beauty that felt so delicate it may break with just a silent touch.

His single dark brown eye was just like her own, while his ice cold one spoke of the magic and the other the Arryn that ran in his blood. One tethering him to their own reality, while the other was claimed by the Stranger, dragging him further into the untouchable winds of his Targaryen ancestry. She traced her thumb down the trail left by his tears, her own beginning to fall.

“My sweet boy, my son…there is no duty without sacrifice, and no happiness without duty.”

Alyssor reached up and gripped her palm, his fingers digging into her skin as he shook it slightly, “Please mom…it doesn’t have to be this way.”

Alicent shook her head slowly, tears falling down her face that mirrored his own, “We must all learn our places in the world at some point.”

Alyssor closed his eyes and wept silently in her hold, Alicent pulling him into her arms as they sank to the ground. She held him tight, for as long as she could. Letting him break down in her arms this once…before he would have to rebuild himself and face a world that sought to break their family, tear them down from the sky and watch them fall into the sea, crushed and torn asunder.

Alyssor looked up at his roof completely numb, his hands covered in bandages and his face stained with tears. He had not left his room in many days, he had been forced into there after threatening to run away and from there he had nearly broken his hands from banging on the doors. His mother had tempered his rage for just a moment, but the moment he had been allowed to brood it simmered into a boil. He had outright refused enough by now that the King had given him an order…

“ You will go to Oldtown and not return until you’re a Knight and a Man!”

He knew not how much longer he had left inside his room, the place he had spent the majority of his life. Tears welled into his eyes again as he rolled over onto his side, his eyes raked over his room. He had many memories within these walls. Both inside and out of his room, and most were pleasant with his siblings. He would be leaving all of that behind…for what?

Knighthood with a man he had never met? Perhaps a pious adventure into the Citadel? He could just swoon like a maiden at the idea.

With a sullen sigh he got off the bed, tired of laying down for hours at a time. Heading towards his table he scooped up a book, History of Storm’s End, boring yet something he hadn’t read. Strolling towards his window, he prepared to look out onto the ramparts and read until the sunset and his dinner delivered. Yet his plans were interrupted by an announcement at the door.

“Princess Helaena Targaryen, my Prince.”

Alyssor’s eyes fluttered, his head turning towards the door where Criston Cole stood, announcing his sister. Rickard had been removed from his service temporarily, Alicent or Viserys fearing that the young knight may adhere to his Princes word a little too much. For himself he hadn’t expected any of his siblings to be allowed to visit him. Yet Helaena must have managed to convince their mother of it, somehow.

Seeing her face was a relief, even if it was paler than usual and her eyes rimmed red with sadness. As Criston left them alone he gave his sister a soft smile, his voice filled with gentleness as he said, “Halaena-”

The remaining thoughts never left his voice as she darted like a lion across the room and straight into his chest, tears already pooling into her eyes as she yelled into him, “You can’t go!”

Alyssor stood still for a moment, his hands shaking as he settled them onto her arms. His mouth felt dry, his voice distant and lost as he murmured to her, “Halaena…I have no choice. This is not what I wish, but our mother has ordered it…the queen has ordered it.”

“You don’t understand…you don’t-” Halaena broke down into sobs, her usual passive, quiet demeanor being turned into a waterfall of sorrow and pain. She started to collapse in his arms, Alyssor instantly allowing her to fall against him.

The two of them sank to the floor as she gripped his clothing tight between her fingers. Alyssor ran his fingers through her hair whispering soothing words as he rocked them back and forth, letting her feel all she felt until she was ready to talk.

“You will burn,” Halaena said softly, Alyssor met her eye, saw how wet and pain-filled they were. Her gaze started to drift over his face, framing each aspect as if he would disappear from her hold the moment she blinked.

She buried her head into his chest, holding back sniffles as she nestled into his solid warmth, his heart starting to beat faster as he just held her closer, “Brighter than dragon fire, yet shorter than a candle wick.”

She saw it, all of it, him sequestered with flames building around him, consuming him whole. He would burn, he would disappear, “you’ll leave me alone.”

Alyssor swallowed hard…he would die …she must have seen it, that would be the only thing that could bring her to tears. Somewhere along his journey, in his years away from home he would be consumed by fire…he really wasn’t a Targaryen .

Halaena felt a hand cover her own, the only touch that didn’t make her flinch, warmth spreading from his fingers into hers. Alyssor spread her fingers, his much larger hand dwarfing her’s as he clasped their hands together, providing her his comfort while not saying a word, “Why don’t you listen. Why do you bury your head in the ground waiting for footfalls that never come?”

She murmured the words quietly, clenching his hand tight while she tried to nestle further into him. Perhaps if she imprinted herself into him then he wouldn’t leave, he would stay with her and she could sleep without the vision of the sun swallowing him whole.

For Alyssor he knew not what to make of her words…

Yet try as he might, the thought of his death, of fire consuming him whole…it only sparked a deep immense, all-consuming hatred . Even the future thought him burned and scarred, waiting for death to call his name. For the Stranger to take what was there’s… fuck that.

Holding her hand tight he raised it to his lips and pressed a firm kiss into the back of her skin, Halaena’s eyes fluttering as she lifted herself from his chest just enough to look him in the eye, but not more than that so as to not break from as much contact with him as possible. Looking into her eyes Alyssor let everyone of the defiance he had within his bones, the anger and action he had put into his actions for years since he knew there was no escape from what people saw. Let them talk, let them listen, and let them earn what they’ve wrought. Think him a demon, a monster, an Other. He would not fall to such petty notions.

He was a dragon , even if others thought him nought.

“I promise to you Halaena, in the name of the Seven Who Are One, I will return to you. No matter what I must weather in the future, what flames threaten to consume me...I will return.”

He spoke with such conviction, as if he knew his future… alas he didn’t .

She knew it. She saw. She dreamt. None listened.

Halaena closed her eyes…

She had no dreams. Only nightmares.

Chapter Text

Alyssor felt his heart clench as he looked out towards the horses that would be carrying them all the way to Oldtown. Packs resting on each of them, and soldiers already mounting up. He was going to be leaving his home, leaving his family.

His mother and father had tried to paint his future in a pretty picture, Oldtown home to the Citadel and filled with enough information to keep a scholar sated for his entire life. The oldest and most planned city in Westeros and beholden with Battle Isle. The home of his House's namesake, and where they ruled as kings before kneeling to Aegon. The place where even the King of Reach could not conquer.

But even with their words he knew enough about his mothers hometown, he would’ve been reminisced if he hadn’t done his due diligence. He knew of the Thieves Market held deep within its labyrinth of roads. The Guildhalls that lined with the river bank, and even of the rat pits and brothels located in the undercity.

In all honesty he could’ve found happiness in this decision, in going to a seat of power where you learn, study, forge, create a future with almost all the knowledge in the world. The issue was he wasn’t given a choice .

They robbed him of any decision in the matter and were forcing him onto the path of knighthood, something he could’ve done in King’s Landing…but they separated him from his family…from his sister .

Alyssor clenched his hand beneath his coat, his eyes shifting to the tear-stained face of his mother. Alicent couldn’t hold it in, her hands clenched tightly around a handkerchief as tears dripped down her face which in all honesty surprised him. She always managed to hold her grief with her decision in while in public, but the day with which he was finally to leave she had been sobbing quietly in the corner the entire time.

She was being held up by his brother at the moment, Aegon’s face set in a hard line which didn’t surprise Alyssor and in all honesty he was grateful for it. Keeping his head high he took the steps towards his mother and twin, ignoring the fleeting glance sent his way by his Grandsire, Otto was the one who would be leading their caravan back to Oldtown, still refused entrance by the King for attempting to push the matter of Aegon sitting on the throne.

Otto could do as he wished, he probably even had a hand in what was happening right now, but through it all Alyssor would keep his head high and push through. Survive .

As Alyssor grew closer to his family, Viserys spoke first. His face and tone jovial despite the fact his son was leaving, “Alyssor, my boy, come here. Let me get a look at you before you depart.”

His smile was warm and welcoming as he reached out to clasp Alyssor on the shoulder, oblivious to the tension that laid beneath his touch. Alyssor’s eyes flicking away, his voice stiff as he couldn’t contain the emotions that boiled deep within his stomach, “You're going to enjoy Oldtown my boy I just know it. It’s an honor for both you and our family that Lord Hightower agreed to this fostering.”

“Yes, Father… truly an honor,” each word that dripped from his lips was forced, strained beyond belief.

“I wish I had gotten such an opportunity at your age, being a king does rob you of some joys, eh?” Viserys said, patting Alyssor’s arm before letting his touch fall away.

Alyssor nodded his head solemnly, his voice quiet, “I’m sure it will be…unforgettable.”

“That’s the spirit! I expect great things from you. You’ll become a fine man in time, Alyssor. A true credit to your house.” Once more he reaches out, just this time pulling his son into a tight hug that Alyssor couldn’t pull away from.

Alyssor quickly swallowed the angry fire that bubbled in his throat, tightly replyign, “I’ll do my best, Father.”

“Of course you will, my boy. I have no doubt.” Viserys chuckled lightly, patting his son on the back before breaking away and turning towards his current Hand, Lord Lyonel Strong.

“ No doubt …” Alyssor muttered to himself, biting his lip as he turned away from his father and told his quietly waiting mother and brother. Both watching him quietly. Taking a deep breath he took the few steps towards them.

His brother gave him a strained half-smile, his eyes set stone cold as he tried to hold it together. He was the only eldest child now, it was his job to carry them forward even if Alyssor deftly wished he didn’t have to put such a burden on his brother's shoulder.

Turning his gaze to his mother he could see the pain in her eyes, the tears that had run down her face yet to be wiped away. Taking a shaky breath he swallowed the resentment that bubbled in his chest he said softly, “Goodbye mother.”

Aegon, watching the two of them, sighing hard through his nose he let go of Alicent as she took a shaky step towards her son.

Reaching out with a shaky hand she looked into his eyes, equal in light and dark as they stared back at her hard. A wheel spinning in them, questioning if he should deny her touch or not before he just closed them tight. The murky emotions that swirled within leaving her vision as her hand touched the tufts of dark hair much like her own.

“I’m sorry…” she muttered heartbroken.

If you were you would’ve changed your mind .

Alyssor didn’t say a word, reaching up he took Alicent’s hand and broke it away from his skin, an action which erected an heartbroken sound from his grieving mother akin to a sob. His eyes flicked towards Aegon who immediately let his mother collapse into him, “I have you muña, lean on me.”

Her body weighed down on his smaller body before he looked towards his brother, the two sharing a thunderous conversation with just their gaze.

Take care of them .

I will .

I know .

For a moment there was silence. Aegon’s jaw tightened and Alyssor could see the cracks begin to form as the child began to break free. More than a few tears started to stream down his face as he muttered, “You better come back.”

Alyssor chuckled lightly, “I will… eventually .”

At that moment he heard his mother sob louder, Aegon turning and covering her body as she crashed down into him. Whispering words into her ears as Alyssor could only watch, he hadn’t even left but a divide would already be forming. Turning he prepared to walk away when he felt a tiny hand slip into his…Alyssor looked towards his youngest brother, tears dotted the corner of his eyes as he blubbered, “Don’t leave Lēkia, please…”

Alyssor clenched his eyes tight and knelt down until his head was even with Daerons, opening then to find tears finally falling from his brother's face. He felt tears start to pool in his own eyes as he reached out and cupped his face. Running his thumb along the cheek to wipe the tear away, “I’m sorry valonqar…I’m so-sorry.”

Daeron started to sob and crushed his body into Alyssor, the older brother tittering backwards, barely managing to stay up as he hugged his brother just as fight back. His heart was breaking as he did so.

“You can’t leave! What about my celebrations! You have to stay!” Daeron shouted, his feet digging into the dirt as she tried to pull Alyssor back to the keeps steps. One of the nanny’s stepped up but Alyssor just held a hand up to them, urging them to stop before he settled his hand on Darron’s shoulder.

Looking into sparkling purple eyes just with tears he said gently, “I’m truly sorry, Daeron, I won’t be able to attend your name day celebrations,” patting him on the back he tried to appease his brother, “But I promise I’ll send gifts. Always.”

Daeron shook his head violently, tears starting to roll as he shouted, “No…no…no!”

Alyssor just pulled him into his grasp, holding him tight as Daeron kept trying to push off of him. His tiny fists started to punch into Alyssor’s back as he shouted again, “You can’t leave us!”

All he could say was sorry. That fact shattered his heart, the cracks breaking through his soul as the dragon within started to wither from the impending, soulful cold of pain and hurt.

Squeezing his arms around Daeron he shook him, “It’ll be okay, Daeron. I promise it’ll be okay.”

Daerons punches started to lose strength as all the child could do was sob, “No it won’t…no it wont! You’re leaving and never coming back!”

In that moment Alyssor’s grasp felt weak, a numb feeling spreading through his body as Daeron pushed off of him and ran inside. Leaving Alyssor to stand there crouched alone, his mouth dropped open, nothing to say in his defense. He was supposed to die on this trip, he couldn’t promise otherwise… 

Speaking of his death , Alyssor turned to the final member of his family who was sitting, watching him silently. Tears dripped down her beautiful face, marring it in a sorrow which gave her a haunting beauty. Alyssor’s vision started to grow blurry as he walked towards her.

He was mad , and he could only fear how that madness would break him without an outlet .

Alyssor crouched just before his darling sister, Helaena, looking at him… no through him. Her purple eyes haunted and hollow, as if she was watching a dying star. Reaching out he gently dug his hands underneath the tight grip she had on her clothes, a grunt of protest instantly ceasing his efforts. Pulling his hands back from her the tears started to fall, slipping down his face like the quiet proclamation of a guilty sinner.

“I'm coming back Helaena…”

Helaena shook her head, her hair following lackadaisical over her chest as she cowered further into the stone stairwell where she sat, “Death will sing you its sweet tune. You will dance in flames.”

Alyssor couldn’t hold back the flinch that her words erected from him, clenching his eyes tight he buried his nails into his palm. Drawing cool liquid onto his finger tips that pooled into the crevices of his hand. Taking a deep breath he said, “I’m going to come back, and anytime you see… that , write to me, please. Let me assure you, I’m okay.”

Alyssor held his breath as he waited for her response, and only when he heard the quiet ascent, “okay.” did he finally let out a hard breath.

Opening his eyes to his sister's intentful gaze, finally seeing him and not a bird who flew too close to the son, he reached out with his uncut hand. Letting the blood drip across his right palm as he said softly, “I love you.”

All he received in return was the painful rendition of Helaena’s eyes glazing over…

Alyssor fought back more tears and slowly rises, turning from his sister he hardened his resolve and started to walk away. He would survive the flames and emerge from the other side alive and well. He would bear his sister's favor, he would see that Aemond’s eye remained.  Whatever it took to see his family through the perils that awaited it.

Targayrens could never languish after all, they were not dragons given the luxury to sit atop piles of gold. No, they had to fight tooth and nail, spread their flames across the sky as a reminder that they were not to be looked down upon. 

That they would remain forever as Kings and Queens of Westeros, Prince and Princesses…

An effort only made easier by the ones among them who had dragons…

Though when one didn’t have such a strength behind them they had to make their way through the world in a different manner, and Alyssor would do that.

Even if he hadn’t chosen this path, even if he hated being sent away from his family he would secure whatever strength he could find.

Stepping beside his horse for the journey ahead, Alyssor patted his side, brushing his fingers through his coat as he took a heavy breath.

"Nyke jāhor ūndegon ao, lēkia." ( I will miss you, brother, ) a quiet voice came from beside him, Alyssor’s eyes jumping in surprise as he turned to his stealthy younger brother.

Giving Aemond a soft smile he nodded his head, “Nyke jāhor ūndegon ao hae sīr, Aemond.” ( I will miss you as well, Aemond. )

"Nyke ūndegon zirȳ naejot rūmalūbagon. Ilībio tolī." ( I’ll look after them. All of them. ) Aemond said immediately, his eyes burning with a need to prove himself that made Alyssor’s heart shrivel yet his pride roared.

Reaching out he placed his hand hard on his brother’s shoulder and said, "Nyke gīmigon ao jikagon. Yn remember iā ao rūmalagon ao līs tolī. Lyzir iāves iā ōños hen lenton. Nyke gīmigon nyke ūndegon ao laesi." ( I know you will. But remember to live for yourself too. Train with the sword. Try to hatch your egg. I can’t wait to see the man you will become. )

Aemond’s eyes grew a little misty, Aegon and him are more alike than they think , Alyssor mussed as he cupped his brother face, his thumb running alongside his cheek with care as he memorized each aspect of his younger siblings face. He had done the same with each of them, he wanted to remember them like this… just in case the worst came to pass .

Nyke jāhor ūndegon ao ēngos iā zaldrīzes." ( I can’t wait to see your dragon. )

Aemond chuckled stiffly, his voice wet with emotions he was actively trying to bury, “Skoros issa ao gīmigon nyke emagon zaldrīzes?" ( How do you know I’ll have one? )

Alyssor gave a chuckle of his own, his chest expanding with a cold, dreadful feeling as he couldn't help but wonder if he was lying to everyone, " Lēkia gīmigon." ( Older brothers just know. )

Suddenly Aemond crashed himself into Alyssor much like Daeron had, the younger, shorter brother clenching his chest tight as he whispered into the thin fabric of Alyssor’s shirt,  "Nyke jorrāelagon ao, lēkia." ( I love you, brother. )

Alyssor felt more tears sprang to his eyes, love dripping off his words as he said back, “Nyke jorrāelagon ao sīr, Aemond.” ( I love you too, Aemond. )

This would be the last physical touch either brother received from the other for the next several years. Their hands lingering for just a moment as they broke away, Alyssor fixing the strongest smile he could upon his face, “Geros ilas.”

Aemond’s false smile wavered, yet he still gave a swift nod of his head as he retreated backwards, “Geros ilas, lēkia.”

Alyssor let go of Aemond as he turned to his horse, grabbing the straps of her saddle his hands shook, turning even paler than his skin usually was. Drops of red creeping from betwixt his fingers, a raw, chafing pain appearing from where he had cut himself during his talk with Helaena. Swallowing he prepared to toss himself into the saddle when suddenly a hand was placed on his shoulder.

Looking over his shoulder he found his sworn sword offering a comforting smile and solid presence, Alyssor clenched his eyes tight and took a breath. At least Ser Thorne would be coming with him. Rickard was the only certainty he had of his future.

Let go of the anger. Let go of the doubt.You’re a dragon .

Alyssor exhaled and without another thought he swung himself up over his saddle, Rickard staying at his side for a moment longer before Alyssor flashed him a smile, “Thank you, Ser Thorne. Now mount up before my Grandsire’s heart combusts out of fear of us missing his timeline.”

Rickard's smile grew smaller, yet more genuine as he nodded his head, “As you say, my prince.”

As Rickard walked away from him Alyssor took one last look around the keep, scratched up, mighty walls of stone. The dusty ground with which he had threaded countless times, open windows which he had read from. Ramparts which he had felt the seabreeze wash over him with the stench of a city he loved and hated all in a single breath.

Then there was his family, a father looking proud and assured, a son holding a mother on the verge of tears, a sister closed off from him when he hadn’t even left, and another brother looking determined. Another far from here being taken care of by nannies as he cried in sorrow.

Alyssor took a shaky breath, his eyes casting towards the ramparts as he heard the caravan leader shout out the words to send them off. Finding his half-sister up there alongside her husband, a child in her arms with the other standing besides her. Alyssor narrowed his gaze and watched her, unlike his other sisters and brothers there wasn’t an ounce of sorrow in her eyes. She had no care for him or not.

Expected .

Alyssor turned forward and urged his horse onward their caravan moving towards the castle gates and further towards the Kingsroad, and from there towards Oldtown. His new home for the next several years…

“ You will burn .”

Flames danced across Alyssor’s vision as he stared into the fire, its bright orange glow casting a soothing heat across his weary face. The paved Kingsroad allowed for swift travel, but for a boy such as him who had never left the city, it still proved arduous. He pulled his riding cloak tighter around him, the days were hot as they made it further south, but the nights still had a chill to him. His grandsire was pushing them hard to make it to Oldtown, for what reason Alyssor knew not, but everyday they had traveled many miles, as fast as their horses could carry them even with some of the men calling for them to slow considering the “precious cargo” they carried as all of them liked to refer to Alyssor as.

It annoyed him to no end. A sullen sigh fell from his lips as he turned towards the sky, where stars shimmered like distant embers scattered across an endless void. His thoughts were troubled, weighed down by the uncertainty of his future in Oldtown. He knew what awaited him there—the maesters' wisdom, the ancient knowledge locked away in the Citadel—but the path to knighthood felt hollow, forced upon him rather than chosen. His heart ached for what he was leaving behind, especially Halaena, and the rest of his family.

With a heavy sigh, he closed his eyes for a moment, trying to imagine what Oldtown would look like—its towering Hightower, the labyrinth of its streets, the cold stone halls he would walk for years. But when he opened his eyes again, something strange caught his attention.

A shadow moved across the sky, swift and silent, blotting out several stars as it passed. He blinked, his heart skipping a beat as he focused on the shape—dark, massive, and moving far too quickly. It left a trail of blackness in its wake, momentarily swallowing the light of the heavens.

At first, he thought it was just a passing cloud, drifting lazily across the stars. But then it moved—too fast, too deliberate. His breath caught in his throat. A vast, dark shape blotted out the stars, casting a shadow over the heavens as it swept across the sky. It was silent, but unmistakable in its size and presence.

A dragon?

But how? There shouldn’t be a dragon anywhere near where they were. It couldn’t be a dragon.

He glanced around the temporary camp, but none of the other men or guards seemed to have noticed. But none of the other men had been alerted at all, boozing and drinking together as they japed and cheered. Finding something among the chill of the night to find joy in. All of them oblivious to the shadow that had swept across the heavens

Was it just his imagination?

Rhaenys, Daemon, Rhaenyra…none of them would be anywhere near here. Veremithor and Silverwing were inside the Dragonmount, and likewise the wild dragons like Cannibal, Sheepstealer, and Grey Ghost were on Dragonstone as well…

A chill crawled up his spine. Dragons were creatures of flame, power, and pride, and their presence was meant to be heralded with fire and roars, not eerie silence and shadows. His fingers clenched the fabric of his coat as a knot of unease tightened in his chest. No dragon of his family moved like that, vanishing into the night without a trace.

And yet, he had seen it. He knew what he saw.

Alyssor’s eyes widened and he shot up to his feet, his eyes raking across the heavens for another glimpse of the darkness that blot out stars. His heart thudding in his chest… could it be?

His fingers twitched involuntarily as he desperately searched for a sign that he was not crazy. No one had seen that dragon in years…not since its original claimant died…but Alyssor had caught wind of its ghost stories. Perhaps there was more truth to those whispers than he originally thought.

Whispers of the dragon known as Noxarys …

Unclaimed, and unridden, who had been gone from the world for nearly 50 years…every since the death of his fathers ill-fated brother, Prince Aegon.

Alyssor swallowed hard, the name feeling like a heavy weight upon his mind, a name which he dared not say aloud, as if speaking it would summon the creature back.

He shook his head, trying to dispel the unease that clung to him. It had to be a trick of his mind. A cloud, or perhaps a bird, magnified by his own anxious thoughts about the journey ahead. But deep down, he knew better. This wasn’t his imagination. What he had seen was real, and it felt as though the shadow that passed overhead had left something behind—a coldness, an emptiness that gnawed at his chest.

Alyssor forced himself to tear his eyes away from the sky, feeling foolish for letting his mind wander into fantasies of dark dragons and old, forgotten lore. His hands pulled his coat back around himself as he forced himself to sit, clenching it tight over his chest as he tried to even his breath.

He wouldn't say a word about what he had seen, none would believe him anyway. A child jumping at ghosts, asking to be returned to his mama. He could just grind his teeth to dust at the thought. 

Whatever it had been that he saw, whatever it meant, Alyssor couldn’t shake the feeling that it must be some omen, much like Helaena’s words…perhaps his path ahead in Oldtown would not be as simple as he wished. 

He glanced back one more time at the sky, where the stars had resumed their quiet shimmer. Whatever was out there, it was gone now. But he knew, in the pit of his stomach, that it wouldn’t be the last time he felt that shadow over him-

“I hope you will not blame your mother too much for what she has asked.”

Alyssor nearly jumped out of his skin, his heart rate shooting upwards as he swiveled to look up at Otto Hightower, his grandsire's cool brown eyes staring down at him. 

“I love the Queen, truly,” Otto said softly, his gaze distant, “but even she is not without fault. My daughter makes her share of mistakes. I only hope that, in time, you will come to appreciate her decision, and perhaps even enjoy your time in Oldtown.”

Alyssor let out a bitter chuckle, his eyes hardening. “I highly doubt it,” he replied, though a note of forced civility crept into his voice. “But... I’ll try to keep an open mind, Grandsire.”

Otto smiled faintly, the corners of his mouth barely lifting. “That’s all I ask, my boy.”

A brief, heavy silence fell between them, the crackle of nearby campfires filling the void. Alyssor shifted uncomfortably, chewing on his words before speaking again.

“Grandsire...” he started slowly, his voice tight. “May I ask you something?”

Otto arched a brow, studying his grandson with quiet curiosity. “Of course.”

Alyssor turned, his eyes locking onto Otto’s with a sharpness that belied his youthful features. “Did you ask my mother to send me away?”

The question hung in the air like a drawn blade. Otto sighed, rubbing his hands together as if the weight of the question had settled onto his shoulders. He leaned forward slightly, his expression growing serious.

“I won’t lie to you, Alyssor,” he said, his voice steady but low. “I did not dissuade her from it. But I did not bring the idea to her either. She came to me, and after hearing her reasoning... I found it hard to disagree.”

Alyssor scoffed, a harsh sound escaping him as he turned his gaze to the ground. “That so?”

He didn’t believe his grandsire one bit, Alicent was not cruel…but perhaps he truly just didn’t know her .

Alyssor clinched his palm tight, the welcomed feeling of nails sharply pressing into skin being the only distraction from what could only be described as betrayal… his mother was supposed to love him always…he trusted her…yet even she fell victim to talk among the high court.

Otto took notice of the gesture- so much like Alicent when she was younger. He had both his mother, and Alerie in him. That thought still tugged at his heart. Though his brow furrowed at the note of bitterness in Alyssor’s voice.

He leaned in, his tone softening, yet firm. “Tell me, Alyssor, why do you despise this idea so much? Oldtown is a place of beauty and learning. You will have opportunities there that others could only dream of.”

“I'm being sent away because of what people think of me,” Alyssor said, his voice trembling with restrained emotion. “Because of rumors. I don’t see how that can lead to anything good.”

Otto's eyes narrowed slightly, his voice sharpening. “And what have you done to fight those rumors?”

Alyssor blinked, caught off guard. “What?”

Otto's tone grew colder, more calculating. “Even from afar, I hear whispers from the court. The things they say about you, about your behavior. I must ask, what have you done to show them otherwise?”

Alyssor’s anger flared, his eyes burning with resentment. He opened his mouth to argue, but Otto raised a hand, silencing him before the words could spill out.

“You’re not Daemon, boy,” Otto continued, his voice cutting through the air like a blade. “You’re smarter than him, and yet you choose to act like him. It is disgraceful.”

Alyssor’s face flushed with anger. “Why should I bother?” he snapped. “They won’t see me as anything but a shadow, no matter what I do.”

“We’re second sons, Alyssor,” Otto countered, his gaze piercing. “We are not afforded the same luxuries as firstborns. We must earn what others take for granted. So yes…you must care.”

“I’m not a second son,” Alyssor spat, frustration boiling over. “I’m a twin.”

Otto’s expression softened only slightly. “You were still born later. Sickly. You will always carry that stigma.”

Alyssor let out a sharp breath, his hands clenched into fists once more. “That’s... fuck .”

“Language,” Otto admonished, though his tone held a faint hint of amusement.

Alyssor barked out a humorless laugh. “Really, Grandsire? You care about my language now?”

“I’m not your mother, but I know what she would want. And I won’t tolerate it either.”

Alyssor rolled his eyes but nodded, knowing better than to push further. “Fine,” he muttered. “But let me be certain, you’re saying because I haven’t bent over backwards to change people’s opinions of me, I deserve to be sent away?”

Otto’s gaze softened for the first time, a shadow of regret flickering across his face. “I never said you deserved this,” he replied quietly. “But if you had tried... do you think we would be having this conversation now?”

Alyssor’s anger ebbed away, replaced by a hollow, sinking feeling. He gritted his teeth, his head falling as dark curls slipped over his eyes, hiding the emotion he could no longer hold back. His hair reflected dancing flames of light as he whispered, “ No .”

Otto nodded, his expression unreadable. He reached out, placing a firm hand on Alyssor’s back, the rare gesture of affection feeling almost foreign.

“Then you must do better. Give this opportunity a true try and make it to where you’re too valuable to be sent away. Become better than me.”

Alyssor's throat tightened as he stared down at the dirt beneath his boots, the weight of his grandsire's words pressing on him like a heavy stone. Otto Hightower's hand rested on his back, a rare gesture of comfort that somehow made the frustration and anger bubbling inside him all the more suffocating.

The silence between them stretched, broken only by the quiet clinking of armor as soldiers made their final preparations for the journey to Oldtown. In the distance, the horses stirred, snorting softly as if sensing Alyssor's growing turmoil.

“Better than you…” Alyssor echoed, his voice strained. Fingers dug deep into his palm, leaving deep reddening crescents in his skin. What a preposterous notion…at least it should be. He was a Targaryen, dragon riders, rulers, one and all, beloved and hated by many… gods among men .

Yet, Alyssor wasn’t a true Targaryen, was he?

He was only feared and hated for representing something that Targaryen supporters hated and supporters of the faith feared. Second son to a brother who wouldn’t even inherit the Iron Throne, and dragonless…

“ What’s the point ?” Those words fell heavy from his lips once more. A proclamation he had wondered in his head often over the years. Wondered why he should try to be better than others.

He didn’t have a death wish, he had full intentions to return home to his sister full and hearty. To see his family again, but what was the point in striving further than that? Of trying to dispel the rumors of idiots? Maybe his mother was right…maybe he was missing a purpose.

Otto’s brow furrowed, his lips pressed into a thin line, “ Point? What point is there besides your duty, serving your family faithfully?”

Alyssor snorted, finally unclenching his hand he reached down and scooped up a stick. Turning it in his hand he started to poke at the flames, letting silence settle around them. Otto’s face screwed itself with annoyance as he doubled down, “There doesn’t need to be some grand point, my boy. It’s our duty to serve our families and ensure the good of the realm.”

Alyssor stilled and lifted the heated tip of his stick away from the flames, his dual-colored eyes lit up with startling clarity as they set their hard gaze upon Otto, “ There it is again ,” Alyssor pointed the stick at Otto as he asked lazily, “Which family , grandsire? Hightower or Targaryen…?”

Otto’s eyes widened, his mouth falling slack for just a moment before he hardened it into a fine line. His eyes gained a hard look, “Is there a difference? They’re of your blood either way.”

Alyssor’s gaze narrowed a hair before he let out a dry chuckle and shrugged his shoulders, turning away from his grandsire he looked back towards the flames and muttered, “Perhaps so… perhaps so .”

Otto furrowed his brow, what did that mean? Alyssor glanced towards him just briefly before he turned back to the fire, imagining himself dancing in its flames…

There were two things that Alyssor knew for certain, that no one would change his mind about.

No one would ever see him for more than just his face…than the eyes that laid within his skull. They would always fear that unknown reality, a Targaryen who looked even more mysterious than his forebears. A nasty combination for superstition and would forever make him an outcast.

The second thing he knew? His grandsire was right . His family would need him eventually, and he did want to return to them. So make himself indispensable, someone they needed … wanted . Alyssor wasn’t going to just let himself waist away in Oldtown. He just refused to become a puppet for an aging man who just wanted more power. Ambition ran in his blood twofold after all…

Oldtown was as much a mystery as he was, holding much within its winding streets in both knowledge and experience. He knew how to slink in the shadows of Kings Landing and he would learn the same for Oldtown. Even if he had to fare that fate alone…

Alyssor looked to the sky, to that inky blackness dotted with burning candlights. He may be alone, an exile in all but name…but he wasn’t the only dragon alone in the world. A half-smile creased his face as he chuckled dimly to himself. He would survive…

Fire and Blood .

We light the way.

Two ancient bloods converged within his body…

He would not falter.

Chapter Text

The hall was warm with the loud hum of conversation and clinks of goblets, scents of roasted meats and fresh bread wafting through the air. Alyssor sat near the top of the longtable, a goblet of wine in his hand, staring dispassionately at the laughter and revelry around him. The flickering candle lights cast long shadows, and despite the feast being in his honor, Alyssor felt out of place.

I wish Helaena was here . It had only been a month and he already missed her presence dearly. He brought his cup to his lips, his mind already imagining how much fun it would be to have her there next to him. Animatedly talking about one of her bugs as he just hummed along, drinking from his cup and watching her hair bounce as she moved. Eyes glimmering with excitement. Sadly his dream was ruined as he noticed a figure approaching him from around the table.

Elyn Tyrell, eldest daughter of Lord Luthor Tyrell, who gave him an awkward smile as she moved towards him. Dressed in an emerald gown that shimmered in the firelight, no doubt expensive and more than likely only been worn once from the way she uncomfortably shifted and tried to move her dress. Despite that she tried to carry herself with an air of confidence, despite the trimmer of the lip which betrayed her true thoughts. Alyssor knew what was coming before she even spoke, and once more wished Helaena was there to give him an excuse .

“My lord,” Elyn began, her voice soft and carrying a hint of forced sweetness, no doubt drilled into her for seducing Lords older than he in an attempt to garner favor. “I trust Highgarden has been to your liking?” She leaned in slightly, her attempt to catch his attention falling right out of the history attempts, almost as obvious as the words which her father likely drilled into her head. Ambitious men who wanted his cock more than their daughters, how grand . He and her were going to be treated as breeding mounts just to make some lines on paper grander.

Alyssor offered a small, tight smile, the kind that had been drilled into his head much like her mannerism into her. Noble birth had a way of forcing a kindly smile even when all you wanted to do was hurl. “It’s beautiful,” he replied, swirling the wine in his goblet as he looked into it, “As expected of House Tyrell.”

He kept his words short and sweet, Elyn’s smile faltering at his obvious lack of interest, but she pressed on. Her fingers brushing lightly against the sleeve of his tunic. Unfortunately for her the act only made his skin crawl.

“It’s a shame you won’t be staying longer. Perhaps we could explore the gardens together tomorrow, before you leave for Oldtown? I could show you the hidden paths that I’ve come to learn…?”

Alyssor took a sip of wine to suppress the sigh that threatened to escape him. Yet he still played along, barely. “I’m sure your hidden paths are lovely,” he said, meeting her gaze just to watch her eyes flick to the ground in a manner that made him want to chuckle, “but I have a long journey ahead of me. I doubt I’ll have the time.” Truly this would go nowhere, if someone who wanted to seduce him couldn’t even keep eye contact. Helena could .

Alyssor growled at the thought, Elyn’s gaze flicking up to him with concern and fear. Perhaps because she was failing his father, or perhaps she worried about his “nature.”

“My Prince? Is everything alright?”

Alyssor grit his teeth, trying to focus on the conversation at hand he muttered softly, “Sorry it’s nothing.”

Elyn’s brow furrowed at that, showing brief frustration for but a moment before she expertly masked it. She opened her mouth to say more, only for Alyssor to notice something out of the corner of his eye. Her father, Luthor Tyrell, watches them intently.  The Lord of Highgarden’s face was set with a thin smile, but his eyes burned with an ambitious impatience that Alyssor was well acquainted with.

Luthor rose from his seat and crossed the hall in a few swift steps, his voice booming with false warmth. "Elyn, my dear, I think it’s time to let our guest enjoy his evening. Come, come." His hand gripped her arm firmly, though his words remained polite. "I need to speak with you for a moment."

Elyn’s eyes widened slightly, but she didn’t resist as her father practically dragged her from the table. Alyssor watched them go, his jaw tightening, but he said nothing. He could guess what this was about.

The heavy wooden doors to the feast hall closed behind them as Luthor led his daughter into a quieter, more secluded room. As soon as they were alone, the mask of politeness dropped from Luthor’s face.

"What in the seven hells was that?" he hissed, his grip tightening on Elyn’s arm. "You were supposed to charm him, not sit there like some shy maid. Do you have any idea how important this is?"

Elyn’s cheeks flushed, her earlier composure crumbling. "Father, I-"

“No excuses!” Luthor’s voice was low but dangerous. “Alyssor is a key to our future. He’s a royal, for god’s sake, and we are fortunate to have him here. I don’t care what hang ups you have, you will do your duty, and you will make him an ally, by whatever means necessary.”

Elyn shook her head, her voice trembling with frustration, “He’s barely a boy, Father! I am 6 years his senior and you expect me to seduce him? Besides I already have someone, I’ve told yo-”

“Forget about that nonsense,” Luthor snapped, cutting her off. “Alyssor may be young, but he’s still a prince of Targaryen blood. We don’t get to choose wherein who our duty lies, daughter. You’ve been trained your whole life for this.”

Elyn growled in frustration, pulling at the edges of her dress she spoke back with fire in her voice, “How can you expect me to do this?! He looks like a bastard father, everyone talks about him! They would talk about me like that! I don’t want to do it!”

Luthor narrowed his eyes and pulled his daughter harshly towards him, her arm crying out in her socket and spiking with pain as he growled right in her face, “Who cares if he looks like a bastard. He isn’t one! Besides, we all know what Princess Rhaenyra gives birth to, you can do this much.”

Elyn whimpered in her fathers grip, her face hurting from his gesture and she knew now there was no arguing with her father. Reluctantly, she nodded, her voice barely a whisper, “Yes, Father."

"Good," Luthor said, releasing her arm with a satisfied grunt. "Now go, and do what needs to be done."

Elyn turned from the door, tears threatening to break at the corners of her eyes as shame and anger welled within her. A cascade of emotions pressed down on her as she opened the door to the room intendful on stepping out. Only to freeze in her tracks when she saw Alyssor standing just beyond the doorway.

His head leaned back on the stonewall, goblet in his hand as he looked up at the roof. Before turning his head towards her, Elyn's blood ran cold. His dual-colored eyes were cold as an ice storm. His face set in a hard, unreadable expression. The blood drained from her face, heart racing while her mouth went dry as she tried to muster a word, an apology, anything

Alyssor, though, simply raised his goblet, giving her a look of quiet disdain. He drained the wine in one swift motion before pushing off the wall, turning on his heel without a word. His boots started to echo down the empty corridor as Elyn could only stand there, frozen in her own dread.

Only for the sound of the door opening behind her once more to snap her out of her terrified spiral. Luthor stepped into the corridor, his face tight with annoyance only to see Alyssor walking away. His eyes flashing from his daughter's terrified face back to Alyssor’s retreating back. His face slowly morphing into one of full dread.

“Your grace,” Luthor began, his hand reaching out towards the young prince, “I can explain-”

But before he could even get close, Ser Thorne, Alyssor’s sworn shield, stepped into the light. Almost as if he materialized out of the shadows, his gauntleted hand clamping firmly down on Luthor’s arm. The knight's face was impassive, but the steel of his grip sent a clear message.

“Don’t touch the prince,” Ser Thorne said, his voice low and unyielding.

Luthor’s face flushed with indignation. He tried to pull his arm free, glaring at the Kingsguard knight. "Do you know who I am? I am Lord Paramount of the Mander!”

Ser Thorne’s grip didn’t falter, nor did his expression change, “I am a Kingsguard,” he said calmly, “my duty trumps a title that has been given to you. Now step back.”

Luthor’s eyes widened, a flash of rage lighting up his face. He opened his mouth to retort, but before he could utter another word, Alyssor turned back around, his gaze cold and piercing. "Do not threaten my knight, Lord Tyrell. It is unbecoming of you.”

Luthor stammered, his face turning redder by the second. "This is all a misunderstanding, Your Grace. I meant no offense. My daughter-"

Alyssor cut him off, his tone icy. "I heard what you said in there. What would happen to you if I were to tell the King about how you ran your mouth? Since I’m feeling generous, perhaps you wouldn’t lose your head for the words you said about me. However, Princess Rhaenyra? The King will have your head, and your daughters' tongue.”

The blood drained from Luthor’s face, and his mouth opened, but no words came out. Elyn, standing behind her father, looked stricken with fear, her hands trembling as she realized the severity of the situation.

Alyssor took a step forward, his gaze never leaving Luthor’s. "You might not lose your head, but your reputation? That will be ruined. I imagine it would be difficult to rule the Reach with the rest of the realm scorning you, wouldn't it?"

Luthor tried to collect himself, his voice a little more desperate now. "Your Grace, please, it’s not what you think. I was merely-"

"Take the loss, Lord Tyrell," Alyssor interrupted, his voice sharper now. "Accept that your blood will not bear the Targaryen sigil. Besides, I have no interest in your daughter.”

Elyn’s face flushed with shame, her eyes darting to the floor as her father glanced between her and the prince, utterly humiliated.

Alyssor gave a small, bitter smile, as though amused by the spectacle. His mind drifted to thoughts of Helaena, his sister. He muttered, half to himself, "She’s not my type."

Then, without another glance at either Luthor or Elyn, Alyssor turned on his heel and walked down the corridor, leaving them both standing there in stunned silence. Ser Thorne lingered for a moment longer, his hard gaze locked onto Luthor’s, before he turned and followed his prince.

Rickard followed his liege dutifully, as the two of them exited the sight of the Lord they ducked into a nearby alcove. Alyssor somehow knew of a servant’s corridor which he slipped into with ease. Rickard hesitates for just a moment before following after his charge. The noise of the feast had faded far behind them as they were met with a whirlwind of servants and a teeming kitchen. Most looking at them confused before getting right back to work, none saying a word, most likely due to the fact that even with Alyssor not looking Targaryen, all knew of the eyes enlained within his skull like precious jewels.

Alyssor handed his empty goblet to a passing servant, who took it with no question. Then without missing a beat, Alyssor moved towards the back of the kitchen, his stride large and heavy. The warmth of the kitchen hit Rickard like a way, pressing down heavily on him due to his armor. But the knight gave it no head, just following Alyssor who he noticed stealing a coat that had been left on the counter. Slinging it over his shoulder, before he quickly threw a silver stag where it had been.

The two of them stepped out into the cool night air, Rickard letting out a pleased sigh at the dissipated heat. His eyes still keenly focused on his charges back, though he did glance around warily. Concern racing through him, he was proud of how Alyssor had conducted himself. But, Alyssor was still young and such an interaction could have hurt, more than the boy would admit. That concern caused him to ask, “My lord? Are you okay?”

Alyssor let out a heavy breath as he looked back towards the stars that glittered above. He barely registered his knight's words, and even if he wanted to, he had no clue how to respond. His thoughts spiraling into darkness…

He was right .

His parents. Grandsire. All of them . Were wrong. They thought sending him away might fix some stigma, they thought they were going to control his fate. Or at least that's what they told him…

But instead he got treated like a pawn being thrown into the fire. They didn’t understand his reality. And they never would.

“I’m fine Ser Thorne,” he muttered just loudly for the on edge knight to hear, his eyes flicking over the stars as a bitter smirk came to his face, “Cause I’m always right .”

Before his knight could respond Alyssor started to move, his center burning with energy and a weighty coin purse resting on his hip, “Come Ser Thorne! Let us find some debauchery to attend to!”

The underground arena was dimly lit, bodies piling up everywhere with a thick stench of sweat, ale, and blood hanging in the air. Alyssor and Ser Throne moved nearly chest to back through the rowdy crowd, slipping past men with hunched shoulders and women with hard, calculating eyes. Most onlookers would glare at them whenever they had to bump shoulders, only for their eyes to flicker to the armored Kingsuard, an act which quelled any sense of fight they may have. Instead muttering under their breaths and retreating back into the throng.

Alyssor barely noticed them, his attention fixed ahead as he walked purposely through the suffocating masses. The uneven stone floor beneath his boots echoed faintly as they approached the edge of one of the pits, where a fight was about to begin.

Despite being a hive of illicit activity the room was rather large, which meant greater breathing room around the spiraling walls that led into the sanded fighting pit. The main platform which Alyssor stood on rested high above, while the rest of it slowly went down like a staircase to another landing where it opened up into more room for people to stand. A small half-wall being the only thing that separated people from the seats where fighters could rest, or they could disappear into a hallway that was shrouded in darkness.

From below him, Alyssor heard the voice of the announcer booming out, ringing through the musty room. “And now, we have two warriors for your entertainment! First, a man who needs no introduction, the undefeated champion…Black Crag!”

The crowd erupted into cheers as the first fighter stepped into the pit. A hulking brute of a man, his chest covered in deep, crisscrossed scars that told tales of countless battles. Based on the bets that were now being thrown into the wind, Alyssor could only imagine the ledger of blood that he had wrote. His heavy muscles gleaming in the torchlight as he towered over his opponent with a savage anticipation.

“And facing him,” the announcer continued, “a newcomer to our games, a knight who has fallen from grace, John of the Stormlands!”

The crowd jeered and laughed, their cruel voices filling the space as the knight stepped into view. He was leaner, younger, with only a single scar running across his lip, perhaps a mark of inexperience, or one of desperation. His eyes darted around nervously, but they settled on his opponent with grim determination. He had weight and reach against him, but his stance was one of a man with nothing to lose.

Alyssor watched with a cool interest, his eyes focusing on the Hedge Knight. At least he assumed that was the case; green, fighting in a ring, and no House? Smelled of a man with no money, and desperate to eat. Alyssor grinned and turned his gaze to Rickard, “Ser Thorne, place a bet for me on John. 10 Gold Dragons.”

Ser Throne frowned slightly, his eyes flicking between the two fighters, “Are you sure? I don’t mean to doubt you, my lord. But the Crag fellow does have weight and reach on the poor lad. I don’t think he stands much of a chance.”

Alyssor took no offense to it, his eyes lighting up with some hidden emotion that Rickard didn’t understand. His gaze turned back towards the fighters who were starting to circle each other as he said low, “Trust me. Besides, it'll be fun.”

Rickard looked at his charge’s back, watching as his foot started to bounce along the floor. He trusted Alyssor, served him dutifully, and if Alyssor believed this is where his money deserves to go then he would place his trust in him once again. Besides, perhaps the Prince truly did just want to have fun. To bet on the underdog.

Turning towards the bookkeeper he went to place the bet.

Alyssor for his part just leaned forward onto the railing, folding his hands atop one another as he watched the two fighters circle each other like wolves. Black Crag taunting the knight with some crude insults and drumming up the crowd, entertaining them as mirthful laughter started to ring through the canopy. Alyssor placed his chin atop his hands and watched the steadfast silent John. The focused, younger man holding back his energy. Muscles going tight and ready to spring into action.

Then finally it began, Black Crag taking the first steps as he charged towards John, a savage roar wetting his lips. His fists flying through the air in wide arcs, each blow threatening to take the shorter man completely off his feet.

John for his merit was undeterred by the looming threat, quick on his feet he danced out of the way and attempted to throw a few jabs at his opponent. Crag just laughed them off as he redoubled his efforts, finally landing a nasty hit straight into John’s chest and sending him stumbling backwards onto his ass.

The larger man used this moment to press his advantage, thundering over his opponent who had to duck and roll out of the way. His body getting covered in dirt and dried blood before he managed to get to his feet and out of the way. The two men return to circling each other, Crag's breath coming heavier while John’s chest still barely moved.

From there though the knight only struggled more, the two men coming blow to blow as slowly John was pushed back more and more. His movements started to become more sloppy as he blocked one too many hits.

Alyssor’s brow furrowed and his lips which had once been placed in an excited smirk, turned to a frown. He’s afraid . That’s what Alyssor noticed, John was afraid of his own actions. He didn’t trust himself …

The knight's form was decent, his movements quick and precise, but the way he fought? It was as if he was worried about hurting the very air he breathes.

A sigh fell from Alyssor’s lips right as the crowd cheered, a powerful haymaker from Crag having made direct contact with the knight. Sending him once more to the ground, his face bruised and lip cracked. Blood dripped from it and onto the sullen ground.

John reached up and touched his lip, and at that moment his shoulders sagged and Alyssor could see it. The feeling of failure that dragged upon your limbs, its weight pulling you deeper into despair, as resignation blew out the light of your eyes. He was being held back by his mind .

Alyssor groaned and looked away from the fight, disappointment starting to blossom in his chest. He thought the knight would surprise him, show him something truly worth cheering for. But he let his sympathy for the downtrodden get the best of him. Turning back to the fight he expected to see John laid flat out on his back, and more than likely dead…

Only, instead, he found himself surprised. Because just as Crag moved to swing the final blow John moved. Rolling to the side and springing to his feet, Crag attempted to close the distance, lunging with another heavy, overhead swing, a blow meant to break bones and end the farce of a fight. Only this time, John ducked and it wasn’t slow…

Alyssor’s eyes gleamed. There it is .

John sidestepped the brute’s punch and, for the first time, struck back with real intent. His eyes renewed with a sense of fury as his fist shot upward, fast and precise.The uppercut connected with a sickening crack, and Black Crag’s head snapped back. The brute staggered, his knees buckling, before collapsing into the dirt with a heavy thud. Silence fell over the crowd for a heartbeat, and then they erupted into cheers and insults. Some angry over losing money, others grateful about winning, and many just glad to see a good fight.

Alyssor though? His lips were carved into a wide smile. Eyes burning with excitement in a look eerily similar to his twin-brother, when Aegon had set his sights on something he definitely wanted. Rickard who had returned to his lieges side could only look at it with concern. Wondering where tonight's adventure would end, and whether he should already start feeling bad for the poor knight who was trudging away from his downed quarry.

John, panting heavily as he retreated to his side of the pit. Wiping sweat from his brow as he sat down on an array of chairs. Some passed by smallfolk congratulating him, words which fell on deaf ears as he could only look towards the floor. Shame starting to build within him despite his win…

Alyssor tilted his head as he watched the man’s actions, his eyes following as the knight pressed his knuckles into the palm and cracked them despite how their skin was broken from his punches. Turning on a dime he walked into the crowd, calling after his knight who hurried to follow, “Ser Thorne. Collect my winnings, but give me some space. I have to talk with our little champion down there.”

Rickard strewed his lip in concern, but compared to what he saw right outside the Highgarden keep, he would much prefer these emotions out of his charge. Nodding his head even though Alyssor couldn’t see it he said, “As you wish, my prince.”

Approaching the back of the knight Alyssor walked cleanly through the crowd, lowering himself onto the edge of the ring next to John he leaned over it. Looking down at the tired man he said, “Well fought.”

John looked up at him, blinking as if he hadn’t heard properly, “Thanks…not my best work,” he muttered solemnly.

Alyssor hummed thoughtfully, John swallowing and looking away before his brow furrowed and he turned back, “Wait? Aren’t you a kid? You’re too young for a place like this.”

Alyssor snorted, “Noble words for a man who nearly killed a man just for a bunch of scraps.”

John flinched at those words, turning away from Alyssor he mumbled, “I…you wouldn’t understand.”

“Try me. I am quite curious about what a Stormlands Knight is doing in the Reach fighting just to feed himself.”

John hesitated, glancing back towards Alyssor, only seeing the edge of his hood as Alyssor’s attention was faced forward where some people had come to drag away Black Crags body. Swearing softly to himself, but still wanting to talk to someone that he didn’t have to pay or worry about stabbing him in the back he started to speak.

“I was knighted after saving Lord Toyne’s boy from some bandits. Wasn’t much more before that, but even still I never got a permanent job. Hit the road and came here hoping for a chance at a better life, but…well,” He gestured to the pit in front of him, it’s floors stained with dried blood that burned burgundy, “This is what I’ve got. Not much honor left in it.”

Alyssor nodded solemnly, his face though was set in a smirk, “Looking for honor are you? Some noble cause to serve?”

John nodded his head, his face turning into a wistful smile as he started to rub his thumb across his knuckle. His voice grew distant, as brown eyes sparkled with a surprisingly naive dream, “Yeah. Pretty much. Someone like…Ser Baelon, kind and honorable. Strong.”

Alyssor smirk grew as he turned his head towards John, the knight finally meeting his eyes…at which point he felt his heart stop. His mouth was drying, going completely gobsmacked. Sharp features which were almost beautiful, dark hair curling around his face, and then the most defining feature was his eyes. Pooling mixtures of intensity and detachment, reflecting the dim light of the underground back at him with a penetrating sharpness. Icy blue and murky brown which sifted in a contradiction, cold and emotionless, power and purpose.

He had heard the stories of those eyes…most had.

“Your grace I-” John stammered, his voice barely above a whisper.

Alyssor just pulled a finger up to his lip, and pulled his hood back over his face. Turning around, John followed his movement to find a White Cloak standing behind them. Said knights eyes resting heavily on John's face, scrutinizing him in such a way that made his face go red. Shame once more settled in his gut as he couldn’t look away, embarrassed that someone of such skill and experience was standing before him. Able to judge how he had sullied their shared brotherhood.

“Now here,” his attention was drawn back to the prince, his eyes going wide as Alyssor dropped a small pouch in his hand, “My grace?”

“Open it,” was all Alyssor said, his eyes gleaming from beneath the hood with mischief and mirth.

John swallowed before pulling the string that held it together, the small sack slowly opening to reveal golden skin shimmering beneath. His eyes went wide at the sight…gold dragons…he was given gold dragons.

“Meet us at the west gate of Highgarden in the morning,” Alyssor said as he moved to stand up, only to pause when John asked;

“What? What do you mean?!”

Alyssor sighed through his nose, sending a look to a bemused Rickard before saying, “I’m hiring you, John.”

John’s eyes went wide, his heart starting to beat faster in his chest as he muttered under his breath, “You’re hiring me?”

Alyssor heard the quiet plea and now found himself amused, “Yes. You're becoming a knight of House Targaryen,” sending a weak wave over his shoulder to start to walk and let out a drawl, “congratulations.”

John jumped to his feet, his face strewn with confusion as he clutched tightly to the bag of coin in his hand, “Why would you give me this? I might not even show up!?” John called as he looked towards the retreating Prince.

Alyssor just shrugged his shoulders as he shot a glance over his shoulders, “ then you were good entertainment ,” he didn’t say another word as he turned and disappeared into the crowd. John watched him go before he looked back towards his hand, a golden dragon with the face of Jaehaerys I looking up at him…

He…he was being given an opportunity, perhaps by the prince who was scorned nearly as much as the Rogue Prince. But it was still an opportunity, a choice, a chance …

Rickard fell into step with Alyssor as they left the establishment. Entering into the bustling streets once more. The sound of the fighting crowd fading behind them, and instead replaced with the hum of the city night.

Thorne glanced down at Alyssor, his brow furrowed. “Why him, Your Grace?”

“I don’t know…seemed like fun?” Alyssor said, shooting a glance over his shoulder. But when he saw the hard look his Knight was giving him he sighed and shook his head.

“He deserved a chance. A choice . We don’t all get them…” Alyssor said low, his voice tight with anger. His meaning clear. Alyssor saw a part of himself in John, perhaps because they were both considered outcasts. Underdogs. However he chose to see it, the bottom-line was he felt some kinship and wanted to offer him the hand that had been ripped away from Alyssor.

Rickard clenched his eyes tight, his voice sounding strained as he said, “I understand, my grace.”

Chapter Text

Beautiful.

Alyssor felt actual genuine awe. He had seen a big city before, lived in it all his life. But nothing, nothing about Kings Landings sprawling nature could be compared to what he was seeing now. Nothing about his own expectations could have him believe what he was seeing had actually been built by someone of his blood …

On the horizon sat his mothers namesake, the Hightower itself. Dominating the very skyline as an imposing stone monolith that seemed to stretch endlessly into the sky from atop Battle Isle. It’s body casting a looming shadow over the inhabitants of the city. That was the seat of House Hightower, his ancestors, but it still felt alien even with the blood that tied them together.

“Impressive, aye?”

Alyssor cast a glance towards his sworn sword, Rickards eyes swimming with mirth as he held tight to his horse's reins right beside him. Alyssor’s mouth felt dry and all he did was dumbly nod, “Aye.”

His attention already being captured once more by the city's massive gates, the stone structures finally letting way towards the waves upon waves of noises. Voices, horses, wagons creaking over cobblestone streets, the clash of metal from distant blacksmiths, and the constant hum of people going about their business. 

He saw some of the smallfolk look towards him, their eyes widening for a moment before they swiftly looked away, their children less diligent though they started to run alongside their group of men. Looking up and pointing at all of the clinking bits of armor, and strong horses. Some even pointed at him…

Alyssor grinned, his eyes starting to sparkle as he pulled up on his reins, Rickard turning towards him confused and his eyes going wide as he saw a glint in his wards eyes. A glint he had become very, very familiar with over the years.

Alyssors horse departed from the caravan trotting away from the middle of the road he guided his horse closer to the side, gaze fully intent on one unkempt boy whose own eyes widened with fear and worry. Seeing the kid turn to run Alyssor called, “You! Boy! Come here! I have a question.”

The rest of the children jumped with fear, their own bodies scurrying away leaving their friend behind to the wolves .

Alyssor chuckled at the sight of an abandoned companion, his smirk growing larger as he knew that boy would be making them all jealous very soon. Especially since he stopped, despite the fact he could’ve easily disappeared much like his friends had.

“I meant no trouble my lord,” The boy spoke quickly, his body trembling as he came up to Alyssors horse, “I didn’t mean to bother you.”

The horse nicked around his head, sniffing the air around him before looking away with a crease neigh. Alyssor’s head tilted to the side as he narrowed his gaze upon him, his smirk turning to a wry smile as he said, “Don’t worry. I truly do only have some questions for you, I assume you know these streets in and out?”

As the boy vigorously nodded his head, Alyssor heard his sworn swords horse draw near. His smile grew larger as he turned towards Rickard who could only watch with downtrodden eyes as his ward seemed to start to vibrate with energy. At the very least this was the first time he saw him happy since he had left the Red Keep…well besides the incident with John which has brightened him up a little.

“Ser Thorne, it's time to dismount, we have a new destination.”

Rickard sighed and slowly dismounted from his horse, already fearing the strongly worded letter he would no doubt hear from the keep. But his charge’s happiness was paramount, and Rickard would rather be subjected to a mothers scorn than try and tell the Prince no.

 “Heard my Prince.”

Otto was grateful that his grandson hadn’t made a huff the rest of their trip to Oldtown. Ever since their talk in front of the stars a week prior he had been quiet and content, mostly keeping to himself besides conversations with Ser Thorne. He had even done his duty in Highgarden, and entertained the Tyrell’s and their constituents.

But now they were finally in front of his family's home and he would hopefully be given the chance to introduce Alyssor to Gwayne early. It would be good for the boy to meet the knight he would squire for. 

It would be even better though if Otto was able to introduce him to Ormund, his nephew was a few years older but it would be good for both boys to mingle with each other. If a friendship could be brokered it would be perfect for Aegon in the future. Tie the Hightowers and Targaryens even closer together.

As they entered the courtyard he met Hoberts eye, giving his older brother a soft smile who moved to dismount. His old bones aching, and hip protesting as he hit the padded dirt. His nephew stood resolutely next to him, alongside his wife, Lynesse, who looked towards him with a beaming smile.

“Good morrow brother,” he spoke as he turned around, Ormund giving a slight nod as he looked past him and raised an eyebrow. Otto took no note of it however and turned to his good-sister, “it's good to see you as well, Lynesse.”

“The feeling is returned, good-brother.” She said as she curtsied to him, Otto turning towards his nephew prepared to say something when Ormund interrupted his thought.

“Otto pray tell, where is the boy?” Ormund asked, confusing dripping from his every word. Confusion which made Otto’s blood run cold.

Refusing to turn just yet Otto grit his teeth and forced out, “What do you mean?”

Ormund once more looked past Otto to their gaggle of guards, men, and other sorts needed for the trip. Most already unloading their horses and pack mules based on the sounds of clinking swords and occasional yell. Otto could only swallow his annoyance as he heard his brother say, “I do not see him with you.”

Turning with a vengeance he stormed backwards to the gaggle of men, his eyes swiftly moving among them trying to find the dark hair of the prince that was entrusted to him, only to instead find a fine-tailored chestnut coat standing next to a warhorse with a stable boy already attending to them.

A knight standing right next to the boy talking to him, with a roar he shouted at the two, “Ser! Where is the Prince?! Why do you have his horse!”

Both jumping in unison, the knight's eyes flashing with confusion as he turned towards Otto, his voice fumbling, “Uhm, I’m sorry Ser Hightower I don’t know. The prince asked me to care for his horse while he and Ser Thorne went to the market.”

Hearing that Otto came to an abrupt stop, his blood roaring underneath his skin as he scoffed mutedly, trying to keep his anger under lock and key, “ What? You just let them go? Without asking me?”

The knight just looked confused, his head turning towards the stable boy for a moment before he turned back and asked, “Was I supposed to stop them?”

“Yes. That is my ward, he could be endangered, wandering off as you’ve let him.”

The knight's brow furrowed, sweat curving from his eyebrow under the hot sun as he said, “He’s with Ser Thorne, a Kingsguard. The prince is well protected.”

Otto grabbed the bridge of his nose, and proclaimed loudly, “That is not the point. He is of royal blood and was supposed to meet his grand-uncle and cousins, but now because you did not stop him he is nowhere to be found. It is an embarrassment to the royal crown.”

Otto opened his eyes expecting to see the knight properly quelled, only to instead find narrowed eyes and a steel-rod voice, “I’m sorry Ser, but I serve the Prince and it's his wishes I see to, not yours.”

Otto curled his lip, placing his hands behind his back as he stood to his full height, “What is your station, Ser? Your House?”

The knight bowed his head as he said, “I am but a Hedge Knight, John Hands the name.”

“John? I don’t remember you being included for this venture's retinue?” Otto said confused, his anger becoming muddled.

“Prince Alyssor hired me, back in Highgarden,” his lips curled into a smirk as he then said, “He must not have seen reason to tell you, Ser.”

Otto bristled at the Hedge Knights tone, “The Prince doesn’t have the permission to make you a Household knight.”

John nodded his head, his voice taking a hint of condensation, “That is why I called myself a Hedge Knight, Ser . Prince Alyssor gave me a contract, and for now I am but a humble sellsword working for the prince,” the green knight bowed to Otto with the end of his statement.

Otto’s eye twitched, his fist clenched and unclenched before he turned away from the Knight. When Alyssor returned Otto would sit him down and set him straight. The time for  playing nice with the boy was over, he needed a strong hand now. A hand that only Otto could give …

“The Citadel is just this way!” 

Alyssor looked away from the river beneath them, his eyes peering into a murky blue that sifted out onto the high sea. Finding his rather young guide looking up at him with admiration rather than fear, all it took was telling the boy who he was and flashing some gold to garner such a reaction. It warmed Alyssor’s heart a little, being revered as such rather than looked at as if you were everything wrong in the world.

“Lead the way,” Alyssor accented, trudging through the crowd after the energized child whose name Alyssor had come to learn was Myles. Spindly little thing from the docks, has an older sister and sick younger brother while daddies away working on some fat merchant's boat. Sailor father and from the sounds of it a mother who is slowly unraveling at the seams trying to keep up payments for their home.

Even in Oldtown the smallfolk had it rough, just a little prettier.

His sworn sword was behind him, though this time his armor was draped in a cloak he had grabbed from his horse. Though this time they were on open roads, a lot less need to keep things secretive. However Alyssor couldn't help but smirk at the idea of his grandsire or even his parents hearing a rumor of a white cloak all the way in Highgarden following after a covered head to toe boy. They’d bristle and yell, but in the end they had sent him away so what more could they do? Write a strongly worded letter? Perhaps Otto would try to yell at him, but his old heart might give out before he could even finish his tirade.

“Where is the Starry Sept?”

“Upriver,” Mylo said as they came across to the other side of the bridge right at its corner onto more open streets, his finger pointing outwards as Alyssor followed the line with a raised eyebrow only for his mouth to drop once more on that day.

The Citadel was huge, towers and domes rising out of an isle much like the Hightower, a large bridge connecting it to the mainland with even more connecting the buildings together. Then just before it laid what Alyssor assumed was the Bloody Isle, with its own dark, gloomy buildings made of stone.

Alyssor licks its lips, chapped and dried from days of travel. Oh his mother would yell at him for not using the oils she packed. Well she would if she could.

He smirks and pats Mylo on the back, “You’ve done good, but we’ll take it from here.”

Mylo nodded his head, beady eyes peering up at Alyssor as he gyrated from foot to foot. Alyssor tilted his head confused until Rickard interrupted his play, “Don’t tease the boy my lord.”

Alyssor rolled his eyes but acquitted, reaching towards his waist he fished around in his coin purse for a few seconds before pulling out 5 gleaming coins, he was starting to go over budget but that’s what happens when you hire a sells sword knight since daddy decided you weren’t allowed to stay in the capitol with the toys you already had. Now he had to start over, find new ears to put on walls, find new men to turn a blind eye, find a new maid…

Alyssor pursed his lip and leaned forward on his knee to the smaller boy, Mylo’s gleaming eyes looking between him and the prize that was promised, “Mylo, mind if I ask you a question?”

“Whatever you wish, Prince Alyssor!” Mylo said quickly, his eagerness evident as he started to lean back and forth rather than side to side.

“Good,” Alyssor said as he placed a single coin in the boys grip, a quarter of a years work or so and from the way the boys eyes bulged and hands trembled Alyssor knew he had never held one, “Now I’m quite new to this town and need a maid, how old is your sister again?”

“12 m'lord…” Mylo said, his eyes sparkling and voice shaking.

Alyssor smirked and then held up 2 more coins, “Now I won’t force you or her, but if you promise me to ask her if she’ll work for me and bring her to Hightower manor on the mourn I can promise consistent, and higher pay than anything she could earn elsewhere.”

Mylo rapidly nodded his head, and Alyssor instantly forked over two more dragons to the young boy, “Good, good, and since you’ve been so helpful, one more for your efforts.”

With that being said, Alyssor dropped a final coin in the boy's palm before standing up. Mylo instantly pocketed his coins and ran off, knowing that such a sum could get you killed on any street. Thankfully he was small and wispy, and smart. He would survive.

“Why’d you do that, my prince?”

Alyssor hummed as he looked towards his ever present sentry, the man hadn’t spoken for a long time now and instead had stood by silent and watchful. Those his eyes had sparked with curiosity at their doings even if he was beholden to listen.

“What specifically? Leaving my grandsire? Hiring a new maid? Asking for a guide to show me where the Citadel and Sept where?”

“The maid my lord, the Hightowers are rich I assume they have their own.”

Alyssor tsk’d and said, “ Their own …”

Rickard furrowed his brow and said, “You don’t trust them?”

“Not at all,” he said as he stood up and started walking again, his sword following him like a shadow as they continued to converse, “They at best work for Lord Hightower and at worst for my grandsire. Too many eyes, and too many ears touching me , I don’t like it.” Alyssor bristled, his fist clenching at his side while he kept his face clean and pleasant.

“Someone indebted to me though? Whose life I make better as long as I keep existing?” Alyssor mused, pulling another coin from his purse he flashed it towards his knight, a smirk growing on his face, “now that’s someone you can trust with your life .”

“I…I understand.”

“Glad to hear it, now let’s go! We don’t have all day Ser Thorne!”

Rickard’s step didn’t falter as he trailed behind his liege, his eyes were alert looking around yet his mind wandered… why do you keep taking in strays?

Alssyor chose him out of all the others to have as a sworn sword when he didn’t even need one. He chose John from the literal gutter, which he had come to understand…it was about choosing in a time where Alyssor felt like he couldn’t. Just like how he had chosen Rickard. He might not understand it completely, but his ward choses very carefully who to trust and for some reason he was blessed with such a feeling. A feeling he would never hope to betray.

But that didn’t completely explain why he had chosen a smallfolk girl who he had never met the chance to serve as his maid. Something impromptu for someone of his station, not to mention he was a boy.

Rickard sighed…a feeling of discontent settling in his gut…the feelings Alyssor showed in Highgarden ran deeper than Rickard had originally thought.

Alyssor barely sparred a glance towards the famous sphinxes that guarded the gates to the Citadel. Passing by the jade statues he headed inwards, some citizens traveling besides him towards the Scribe’s Hearth. Stalls on and all lining the sides, yet Alyssor did not ordain to take a look today. His eyes were set on much bigger fish after all…the only question was where could he find them?

Rickard for his attempt was thumbing in his mouth a one-worded question that he found himself asking more and more lately when it came to his little prince, “ why? ”

Alyssor would typically ordain him an answer at some point or another, especially with some extra snark mixed in but for now he was going to wait until the need within him bubbled up so much that it couldn’t help but explode.

Sadly that time came much sooner than he wished, the prince having approached some scribe and flashing him his eyes and a little bit of gold and they were off to some unknown destination once more. Finding themselves in one of the hundreds of rooms within the citadel, this one in particular being filled with books atop shelves and several tables covered in various notes.

Rickard sighed to himself, but sucked it up and said, “My Prince, I fear I must bother your ears once more with such a question but… why? ”

Alyssor looked up from the book he was tabbing through, his eyes focusing on Ser Thorne who was truly at a loss. He never expected his charge to seek out the Citadel of all places, rather expected them to truly go to the market as they told Ser John. First the matter with Mylo and now this.

He hummed to himself before snapping the book shut and tossing it back onto the messy table he had grabbed it from, placing his hands behind his back he began to walk and talk.

“My father expects me to become a knight. My mother wants me to become more how do you say? Sociable?” He looked to the side and reached out to a book that hung on top of the shelves, pulled it out of its socket, he opened the dusty pages and began to skim, “And my Grandsire wants me to listen to his beck and call like a dutiful hound.”

Silence reigned then, as if Alyssor was testing his sworn sword, who really just wanted to ask for an explanation. Alyssor may have studied in the Red Keep but he was never the most attentive to such things. He didn’t show some outward interest like the majority of other wood-be acolytes and novices Rickard had heard of. So why…?

Rickard let his eyes wander as Alyssor skimmed through the tome within his hand, his gaze taking account of the large room they were in. Its walls lined with books as he thought of Alyssor's words. This was a test of some sorts, and he would not fail his liege here just because he wanted to be a little difficult. Though there was an obvious choice…

But…would he really …?

So perhaps he wanted to become an acolyte…but why ?

“If you want you may ask.”

Rickard bristled at the humor in Alyssor’s tone, the youth finding enjoyment in his pondering. Rickard was born of sterner stuff though, “I would like a little longer to figure it out my lord.”

“Very well, take your time.”

Rickard looked around more, analyzing the ancient rounded architecture that adorned the walls of the Citadel. What could entice his prince ? 

“Excuse me? What are you doing here?”

Rickard turned on a dime towards the door they had come through several minutes ago, his hand already going towards his pommel only for his eyes to widen as he finally pieced it together. Someone who wasn’t a knight, who wasn’t him, and whose power came from something far different than a blade situated at your waist.

For standing across from them was a man that Rickard had only heard of, not having been a White Cloak during the time at which he may have walked the halls of the red keep. He was tall and gaunt, his pale skin weathered from the years, much like the parchment which he toiled with day and night. His deep-set eyes are cold and calculating, vivid purple and gleaming with sharp intellect. Silver hair falling to his shoulders in sparse, neatly combed waves.

A thin chain adorned with various metals, links of bronze, gold, and silver connecting to a single shining metal with such sharpness that Rickard knew it could only be one thing… valyrian steel . His narrow, bony fingers toying with the heavy chain as he stared at the pair with curious suspicion.

Vaegon Targaryen …

Alyssor stepped forward, a playful smile twinging at his lip as he held his arms out, “Come on Uncle, you must recognize your family?”

Vaegon’s eyes, narrow in their nature, looked over Alyssor’s features, eyes drifting towards his hair before focusing back on his eyes . Not a hint of emotion showing on his face as he muttered, “So you must be Alyssor…the child they call a falsehood?”

His words dripped with cold emotions, not exactly condescension but also not a warm welcoming that one would hope from someone who shares blood. That is, you could never call the two families, they didn’t know each other and Alyssor knew that which is why he didn’t even flinch.

Watching as his great-uncle began to tab over the papers that laid on his tables, picking some up and putting them in his arms. His smile dimmed into a thin line as he stepped forward and leaned onto the table, “Indeed, that is the name Vaegon the Dragonless …”

Vaegon’s fingers stilled, his eyes looking up towards his nephew. Face set in impassive stare that gave away nothing, “What do you want nephew ?”

“Not much…” Alyssor stilled, his eyes narrowing at himself as he chewed on his cheek before saying with an exaggerated hand roll, “actually quite a lot?”

Vaegon raised a brow, “and…what would that be?”

Alyssor stared directly into Vaegon’s eyes as he said deadly serious, “I want to become a novice.”

Vaegon drew still, his eyes growing narrow as they flitted to the floor. His finger started to tap aimlessly against the hard wood of the table, “I may have removed myself from court nephew, but I am not so far disposed that I have not heard of my families on goings.”

Alyssor raised an eyebrow and leaned backwards, folding his arms together, “And?”

“You’re not the type to want to become a Maester or  Archmaester, so I will need a little more than that.”

Alyssor sighed softly, scratching at his chin he started to speak, “My family has wished for me to become a knight, my grandsire seeing it as a way to tame me , so-to-speak. Unfortunately they have yet to learn that I’ve never been good at following direct orders.”

Vaegon hummed softly, his back straightening as he stood to his full height. Hair creasing at his shoulders as he almost mimicked Alysor’s poise,“So you’ve come to me for what reason? I’m not going to just teach you freehand, you may become a true novice like all the other students who wish to learn.”

Alyssor took a tense breath, his muscles growing taunt as he muttered, “There is something specific I am looking for here, among just general studies.”

Vaegon narrowed his eyes even more, Alyssor wondering if that little quirk was why he looked so old despite only being 54. “What would that be, nephew?”

Alyssor licked his lips, pulling his arms away from each other he placed them on the table and clenched the wood tight. He had been thinking about this for nearly a month since that night under the stars…“ Dragons .”

Vaegon tilted his head to the side, the most emotion since they had surprised him with their presence as confusion filled his voice, “Dragons? Why would you come here then? I’m certain the Red Keep or Dragonstone has enough information that you need.”

“It does, that I can assure you,” Alyssor mumbled softly, his eyes dropping to the table, “I’ve studied plenty there. But there’s one specific dragon even they barely know about, one that I was hoping you may know a little.”

“Who?”

Alyssor took a soft breath before saying in a deathly whisper, “ Noxarys. ”

Vaegon stilled, he hadn't heard the name of that dragon in a while. Though his nephew wasn’t entirely wrong in his judgment. Before he could say anything Alyssor said, “Just indulge me for a moment… please .” 

Vaegon breathed through his nose but nodded his head, “Very well.”

Alyssor let out a huff of breath and started to stalk around the table like a corner wolf as he spoke, “Now let’s just say…for example? I am a bored, entitled Prince with several years of life to waste away until my father reigns in his ‘requirement’ of becoming a knight,” his tone dripped with sarcasm as his hands flowed with his words.

“That is what people will see me as, just throwing my weight around to get out of a hardship as is my nature ,” he huffed, his hand lifting to his forehead where he pushed it through his curls. Growing taunt against a knot which made him wince slightly before he pulled his hand out.

“Which works. Truly. And I have no issue with that assessment, but truth be told I’m not going to just waste away here and become a vagrant like my Uncle.”

“Daemon?”

“Yes.” Alyssor said shortly, his eyes lifting to Vaegon as he once more leaned forward onto the table, “I want to put my time to use. I want to become something . This is my choice , and I’m now too far away from the capital for such a thing to be robbed from me.”

Vaegon nodded his head softly, raising a hand to his chin he started to mutter, “So you wish to study here…and since I am a Targaryen-”

“No, not because you're a Targaryen.”

Vaegon looked up from the floor, his mouth drawing itself into a circle as he tried to convey his confusion. Only for Alyssor to hold up a hand, “No offense Uncle, but you’re the Archmaester of mathematics and economics, which while useful is not what I am here for.”

Vaegon’s eyes widened as he pieced it together, Archmaester of Higher Mysteries, “So Geralt then?”

Alyssor nodded his head, “That is the hope.”

“ Hmm , and even with your presumed… history , they would love having another Targaryen walking the halls. Not to mention you’re of Hightower blood as well. They would be laxer with you than most, as long as you didn’t go too far at least.”

“I’m being serious about this,” Alyssor said, Vaegon looking up into his eyes where he found a burning light shining within a storm of freezing hail. This wasn’t some game to him, he was actually trying to become a Maester…though there had to be more to it, “But I assume you will leave before the chain is complete?”

Alyssor nodded his head solemnly, though a playful smile tinged at his lips, “Of course. I am a prince of blood, and while this is useful, I have bigger plans than wasting away within these walls… no offense .”

“Some taken,” Vaegon said dully, his eyes shifting towards the knight who stood behind his nephew. Ser Thorne if he was made to guess.

Silence reigned between the two of them for a moment, two Targaryens, two separate generations, and in those eyes Vaegon was remiss to say he could see his late-sister in him. If only he didn’t have the dark hair.

“Very well…so Noxarys?”

“Yes.”

Vaegon raised his hand to his chin once more, rubbing his thumb along the bottom of his chin, he closed his eyes and started to speak, “Noxarys…he hatched to Alyssa’s babe, not that I was there to see it. I have heard the stories though.”

A dragon born of the deepest nights, with scales that looked as if they could absorb sunlight. Some of the maids even though the dragon had disappeared from the sickly babes crib, only to shriek with surprise when the dragon opened his eyes. Eyes which were pale, cole blue and completely unnerving.

Despite his hatcher's sickness the dragon clung to his body from the moment it was born, clinging to Aegon with a loyalty so fierce it’s said to have left an impression on Baelon the Brave. That is at least until Aegon finally passed on. After which Noxarys was placed inside the Dragonpit…well more like he haunted it. He wouldn’t stay put within its confines for long though, because as his wing span grew, and the once pitiful keens of grief turned into chilling growls…he vanished.

After which the only certainty I have about him is that he lives. There have been reports from all across the west coast, from Oldtown to Bear Island tales of sheep going missing in the middle of the night. Just a sudden rush of wind, and strange clicks in the sky. Fishermen swear of a darkness clinging to the early morning mist and large splashes. But, even with all of that he hasn’t been seen in the flesh since he was wrapped around the late-prince's cold body. Weeping for his rider who was not long for the world…

Alyssor had to hold back from biting his tongue clean off his body, his fingers nearly carving the table as he let go of a tense breath…

“Have you really known nothing more?”

Vaegon shook his head glumly, “No. He is called the terror of the night for a reason. Either a boogeyman eating the dreams of children, or a shadow who died via the Cannibal only to haunt us for letting his Targaryen die.”

Alyssor dropped his head, a terse reply following, “I saw him…I know it.”

Vaegon’s lip twitched, his eyes drawing towards his nephew's face, the pain there he knew. He knew what it was like to not have a dragon but be a Targaryen nonetheless. Though that fact didn’t bother him for long...his nephew however? He was but a boy.

“ Alyssor , I don’t know what you saw-”

“ No. ” Alyssor’s voice was deathly calm, eyes glimmering with certainty that only made Vaegon sigh.

“ Very well then …let us get you enrolled.”

Chapter Text

Alicent knew what it was like to feel hollow. To just feel like nothing in the world mattered. She felt that the day her mother died. She felt it the first time– and everytime after that –Visery’s took her. But here? She never really expected the emptiness to consume her this quickly. To be left so hollow and gutted she wondered how she still woke everyday. That she still managed to look at herself in the mirror without pulling at her nails so hard they ripped off. Scratching her face with bloody stumps that left marks which wouldn’t heal.

Proof…

It had been nearly 2 months since Alyssor had left her life feeling as if it was dangling on a thread. Each day stretched long and painful, as if entire days passed in the span of only hours. She was being slowly suffocated by the walls of the Red Keep. It’s grip strangling with memories of her family …when they were whole . She never expected sending Alyssor away would hurt like this. That forcing him away would hurt. Her heart ached. Her mind spun ceaselessly. Pounded in from all sides with regret, self-doubt, and an overwhelming sense of loss.

Then there were her children…

Daeron, her sweet, quiet boy…who just refused to look at her. She barely had seen his face over the past weeks. Typically only when she summoned him, forced him to appear before her like a Queen and a soldier rather than a mother and a son. He would come though, and when he did a silence would hang above them like a guillotine, thick and sharp, threatening the death of her ego with every second. And when she did manage to catch his eye? Well there was only coldness, a bitter chill that sent a shiver down her spine. The child who had once clung to her skirts now built walls which she could not tear down.

Aemond, her fierce and stubborn boy, had withdrawn almost entirely in the same manner as her youngest. Isolating himself to the yard, and practicing day-in and day-out as if he were preparing for war. His absence from her life, from the halls of Maegor's Holdfast was palpable, yet she heard him– always –out in the training yard. Steel clashing against steel echoing throughout the halls, throughout her mind. 

Aegon though…Aegon was a surprise. He clung to her side at almost all times, the only evidence that her world wasn’t completely ruined. In her opinion, he did so at fear the world might collapse around him at any moment. Which if she didn’t have him with her most days, hers would. She savored this, comfort…validation. Craved it even, as proof that she wasn’t completely lost, that she could still recover. He needed her, he needed certainty of their existence. Though perhaps as well, he sensed her own unraveling and latched on, searching for strength that Alicent herself could barely muster. 

Then there was Helaena. Her dear, sweet Helaena. She had taken it the worst. Alicent’s heart bled for her favorite child, even if she never dared to say it aloud. The girl had not spoken a word since Alyssor had gone, her silence almost deafening…through the screaming fits that kept her awake in the night were even more so. At least once a week, she would wake in the dark, thrashing and sobbing uncontrollably. Alicent had to rush to her side and hold her daughter who’s voice quickly went ragged from crying until she had nothing left. Those nights, Alicent would just sit behind her and offer empty words of comfort.

Then in the day she would go to the sept and pray. She sat there on her knees for hours praying. That’s what she did with most of her days now. Praying. For guidance. For her children. For Alyssor. For the strength to bear what seemed impossible.

This all because of her son, the boy who left her with such a betrayed, disappointed look in his eyes that the memory of those dual-colored eyes still haunted her. He must hate her now –she swallowed a lump in her throat–she had abandoned him, hadn't she? For the greater good, for his future …at least that’s what she told herself.

Alicent inhaled deeply, trying to steady her trembling hands as she stood outside Helaena’s door. Her eyes raked over the worn wood as she struggled to find the strength to knock. Today was the day that Alyssor would have come to Helaena with some gift of a kind. Bringing strange bugs or sweets that he had bought with his allowance. The thought made her chuckle, the sound wet and strangled of mirth as it caught in her throat. Tears threatening to spill over. She had been crying more and more lately. Leaving her entire being rubbed raw and exposed.

Her hands went to her waist where she removed the small golden cage that she had brought with her. Hands shaking as she lifted the delicate housing to her stomach, a butterfly laying within its walls. Some kind of butterfly, though she had forgotten to ask the man in the market. With a deep, shaky breath, Alicent raised her hand and knocked softly.

When the maids let her in, she found Helaena sitting on the floor, her pale hair cascading down her back as she absentmindedly tucked a strand behind her ear. A letter lay in her hands, and she was absorbed in it, her lips moving slightly as she read.

Alicent stilled, confusion blooming in her chest. A letter?

She swallowed again, pushing down her curiosity as she stepped further into the room. Helaena didn’t look up until Alicent was right beside her, but even then, her glance was brief, her eyes flickering back to the words on the page as though nothing else mattered. She barely acknowledged her mother, her focus entirely on the letter, as though the paper held the key to something far more important than the world around her.

“Heleana?”

That received no response from her daughter. Something which was expected .

“I got you a butterfly from the market. Like…like Alyssor used to do.” She says small, her soul hiding in the depths of her body, using whatever it can to prop up in front of it. Her status as Queen, her marriage, Aegon’s love for her. Whatever validation that can stand in front of the nail that is failure , and keep it from piercing her very soul.

That made Heleana look up at her, her little eyes narrowing into purple slits of amethysts before she turned away once more. Her hands grasping the edges of her note tighter as Alicent felt a stone get lodged in her throat.

She was being strangled. Day by day…

“S-sweetie?”

Helaena stilled, even her breath falling quiet…

“Alyssor’s becoming a Maester…”

Alicent felt her mouth dry, blinking slowly a single, silent word fell from her lips, “ What ?”

Helaena finally looked up at her, Alicent’s eyes falling from her daughters towards the letter, “ oh. ”

Alicent didn’t know whether to laugh or to cry. 

“He sent you a letter?” She asked softly, as if it was a proclamation of guilt.

Helaena nodded her head slowly, and that brought no relief to Alicent. Her son had sent his sister a letter but nothing for their mother. She set down the cage gently onto the table in front of Helaena before collapsing into a seat across from her. Placing her hand above her face she tried to hold back the tears desperately.

Alicent’s fingers trembled as they hovered above her face, barely keeping her emotions in check. The tight knot in her throat was choking her, and the silence between her and Helaena felt heavier than ever.

“He wrote to you…” Alicent repeated softly, voice strained, more for herself than for Helaena. But not to me…

Helaena’s gaze remained fixed on the letter, her fingers tracing the edges as though the words within it were too delicate to touch, too important to fully grasp. Her face, however, was impassive, as if the message from her brother was not the comfort Alicent imagined it might be. Helaena’s lips moved slightly, as though she was mouthing the words silently to herself, locked in some distant reverie.

Alicent couldn’t bear the quiet. She couldn’t bear the thought of her son confiding in anyone but her, least of all his sister, who had grown so withdrawn. What did he tell her? Why only her?

“Helaena…” Alicent whispered, leaning forward, her breath shaky as she reached out across the table. “What did he say?”

Helaena blinked slowly, her eyes distant, but her hand instinctively cradled the letter closer to her chest. Alicent's heart twisted in her chest at the sight. She won’t tell me.

The stillness stretched between them like an ocean, until finally Helaena spoke, her voice soft and almost childlike. “He says… it’s quieter there.” Her words drifted into the air like a feather. “That… that he finds peace in the books, in the words. He even picked up the bow.”

Alicent’s stomach dropped. Peace. The word echoed in her mind, leaving behind a bitter taste. Had she been so suffocating that her son sought peace away from her? Away from their family?

“What else?” Alicent urged, her hand still extended, pleading now. “What else did he say?”

Helaena hesitated, her eyes drifting back to the letter. Then, with a sigh, she placed it on the table and slid it toward Alicent. “You can read it, if you want.”

Alicent’s hand faltered, hovering just above the parchment. Part of her was desperate to know its contents, to understand why Alyssor had cut her out of this intimate correspondence. But another part of her recoiled, fearing that whatever was written in that letter would confirm her deepest fears—that her son truly didn’t need her anymore.

The room felt colder, the silence more oppressive.

Then she plucked it, taking the fruit of knowledge that would damn her into awareness. Pressing it out between her palms she…she paused . Her hands began to tremble and she couldn't bring herself to look past the first line… dear Helaena .

This was an enemy she had no desire to face. Her lips pressed into a thin line, eyes flicking toward Helaena, then away. “No," she said, shaking her head softly. "I don't want to read it."

With a shaky breath she deposited it onto the table like a precious jewel. Helaena sitting across from her, blinked, her own grip twisting into a fist as the the air between them thickened with an awkward, silent weight. Alicent averted her gaze, her jaw clenched, and hands resiting limply in her life as she couldn’t bear to voice the reason why…

What if he never mentioned her?

She couldn't face her demons, not today.

The tension lingered until, Helaena’s voice cut through that thick silence like a jagged blade.

“It’ll die.”

Alicent blinked, startled. "W-what?"

Her daughter's words were barely above a whisper, but they carried a weight Alicent couldn’t ignore. She followed Helaena’s gaze to the small golden cage that sat between them on the table, the butterfly inside resting, its delicate wings flickering faintly in the dim light.

"It’ll die," Helaena repeated, her eyes vacant, lost somewhere beyond the room, beyond the present. "All things beautiful do."

A chill ran down Alicent’s spine as her daughter’s words hung in the air, heavy with a kind of sorrow that Alicent could hardly bear. Her hand faltered over the parchment once more, her focus torn between the letter in her grasp and the cryptic foreboding in Helaena’s voice.

"No, sweetling," Alicent said softly, her voice cracking. "Not everything beautiful has to die."

Helaena looked up at her mother and then just sighed softly. Her eyes drifted towards the gilded cage in front of her as she reached out to pick it up. Carrying it towards the window of her room, “They don’t do good in captivity. They die within days. Their life span isn’t long anyway, but doing this is just cruel.”

Alicent’s heart sank, “I…I didn’t know that.”

Helaena hesitated, her fingers poised on the clasp, her lips parting as if to say something more. Instead, she whispered a name, her voice thick with the weight of unspoken truths. "Alyssor—"

She didn’t finish. She didn’t need to. The unspoken words hung between them, as clear as a blade drawn against the flesh of Alicent’s heart. A fresh wave of grief washed over her, tears springing to her eyes.

"You have to let them go," Helaena murmured, finally opening the clasp. The gilded door swung wide, offering the creature its freedom.

Alicent’s breath hitched as she watched the butterfly hesitate for a brief moment, as if unsure of this newfound liberty, before fluttering into the night air. The sight of its fragile wings against the fading day was both beautiful and heartbreaking.

Freedom—something she had unknowingly robbed it of.

Something that she had given her son which she never knew he needed…

Several Months Later

Helaena’s soft hum echoed down the stonehalls of the Red Keep as she walked, her fingers brushing lightly along the rough walls. The sunlight streamed in through the high windows, and she smiled faintly to herself, lost in thought.

Dinner had been a slow and tired affair, Aegon and Aemond had gotten into a fight over something childish before their father finally stepped in. Daeron was cozying up to their mother, Helaena suspected because he was trying to get something out of her. They may have reconciled over the many months but Daeron still held a grudge over what happened with their older brother.

The family was slowly moving on but Helaena would never forget. Never move from that day on the floor within his room where made his promise.

A promise which would have to wait even longer…Helaena could still remember the devastated look on her mother’s face when the letter was delivered to Viserys. She had yet to receive one, but Alyssor had finally sent one to their father. She suspected it lavished the man in praise considering how jovially Viserys got, only for all of them to be shocked to surprise when Alyssor asked for permission to journey to Essos. He was going to continue his studies there for a few months before traveling back.

When Visery’s had moved to deny it however…their mother had actually stopped him.

Helaena’s mouth screwed itself into a frown at her mothers peculiar behavior. Her eyes drifted to the floor when her pace started to slow as a sound, faint but familiar, reached her ears.

She knew that voice .

“ Hello, my love. ”

Alyssor’s voice.

A small smile grew on her face, her heart quickening in her chest as she turned around to greet him; only to find the hallway empty. Her smile faded, and the warm feeling that had briefly bloomed within her withered just as quickly. Helaena stood there for a long moment, listening for the voice again, but it never came.

With a soft sigh, she resumed her walk. Outside, the wind stirred the trees in the courtyard below, and she caught sight of a butterfly fluttering beside her. Its wings were a beautiful blend of gold and black, catching the sunlight as it drifted effortlessly through the air. 

Helaena cocked her head to the side as it flew through the curved archways, lifting her finger up as she waited. Its wings beating steadfast before it landed on her outstretched finger, delicate and fragile. Helaena studied the intricate pattern of its wings; it was unusual. Usually they would have some sort of beige color to camouflage as necessary.

It started to beat its wings slowly, as if testing the air, before taking flight once more. Disappearing into the swaths of trees, Helaena followed its path for as long as she could before turning away.

Her steps brought her closer to her chambers, and as she opened the door, the familiar sense of dread crept into her chest.

The moment the door creaked open Helaena set her eyes on a pitiful, desperate sight. Her mother sat on the floor, the green fabric of her gown pooling around her in disarray. Covered in scraps of parchment that flooded out into messy piles around her. Her letters from Alyssor .

Alicent’s hair, once fully maintained, hung loose in wild strands, framing her face in a chaotic display, with silent tears streaking down her face. Her eyes were vacant, staring at nothing as the soft drip of her sorrow filled the quiet room.

Helaena paused in the doorway, the air heavy with an unbearable sadness.

She stepped inside, her thoughts distant from the moment, “ Butterflies don’t leave cages that look gilded. ”

She crossed the room and sat beside her mother, the weight of her presence gentle but solid. For a while, they said nothing, the silence wrapping around them like a cloak. Helaena leaned her head onto Alicent’s shoulder, feeling the warmth of her mother’s presence even as her mind wandered far away.

Alicent’s trembling hand found her daughter’s shoulder, her fingers soft against the fabric of Helaena’s gown. She leaned into Helaena, the tension in her body finally breaking as a sob tore through her chest. “He’s grown so much… and he’s never mentioned me…”

Helaena felt her own heart tighten, and she shook her head, her voice barely a whisper. “I’m sorry.”

The apology hung in the air between them, not enough to bridge the growing distance but a fragile offering of comfort. Alicent’s sobs continued, muffled by the weight of years of pain and regret, while Helaena wrapped her arms around her mother, holding her close.

The quiet of the room was broken only by the sound of Alicent’s heartbreak, spilling into the arms of her daughter, who could offer no words—only the warmth of her embrace.

Chapter Text

The night was alive with the sounds of chirping insects, their rhythmic hum rising and falling as Alyssor sat with his knights around the flickering campfire. The air was thick with the smell of smoke and salt from the distant sea, but Alyssor's mind was elsewhere, focused entirely on the basket of fish he was pulling off his horse.

It landed on the ground beside him with a loud thump, a flicker of a curse falling from his lips. Rickard who was sitting by the fire, absently poking at the fire with a stick, glanced up at his grace, a hum leaving him as he asked, “How many days does this make it now, my Prince?”

Alyssor didn’t answer immediately, his hands worked quickly and methodically, he had done this plenty of times after all. Lifting off the top of the basket, his nose scrunched up at the smell as he checked its content. With a sigh he closed it and turned towards his knights finally, his face being lit up by the warm glow of the fire, “two years, seven months, and…three days.” His voice was steady, a hard edge glancing off of it that made John look up from the sandwich that he had packed.

His brown eyes flicking over the crumbled edge, his eyes lingering on his prince who was still messing with things. Double-checking straps, looking towards his waist for his dagger. Tugging at the belt-loop that ran across his chest and pressing a hand into his hair like it would get up and walk away.

He shifted uncomfortably and coughed loudly, both Alyssor and Rickard looking towards him as he asked,  “When was the last time you took a break? I know this is important to you…but maybe we should skip tonight? You’ve been at this for so long without rest.”

Alyssor shook his head, brushing aside the concern with a wave of his hand. “We can’t miss a night.”

“You’ve got that meeting tomorrow with the Archmaester. Something about your link,” John pressed, his voice low and serious. “If you miss it—”

“They’ll give me another shot later,” Alyssor interrupted, his confidence unwavering even as exhaustion lingered beneath his eyes. His smile was tight, the kind that didn't quite reach his face. “There’s too much going on. I can’t miss a night. I have to do this.”

Alyssor’s smile faltered, though he quickly masked it with a determined expression. Inside, however, his thoughts churned relentlessly. He didn’t want to admit it, not to Rickard or John, but the truth was gnawing at him like a hungry beast. He couldn’t afford to miss a night. Noxarys was more than just a dragon to him...he was proof that Alyssor wasn’t wasting his life chasing shadows. If he didn’t make contact again, if he didn’t understand what Noxarys represented, then what was left?

He had spent so many years caught between the world of the Citadel and the mysteries of Essos, always feeling like he was walking in a dim light, never fully seeing the path ahead. His studies, his chains, his accomplishments. None of it... none of it felt like enough. They were just distractions from the yawning abyss he felt creeping at the edges of his mind. Noxarys was real, tangible, something wild and ancient in a world that had forgotten what it meant to live in the shadow of dragons.

If this failed, if Noxarys truly was just a myth, a beast who disappeared into the night without Alyssor ever truly understanding him...what would be left? The lectures, the endless halls of the Citadel, the slow grind of his chains. A life of scholarly solitude.

No. He had to see Noxarys again. He had to prove to himself, to the world, that he wasn’t just chasing after whispers in the dark.

He swallowed hard, glancing down at his hands which held just the slightest tremble to them as they grasped tight to the reigns of his basket. It all felt like it could slip through his fingers at any moment.

“There’s too much going on,” Alyssor repeated quietly, more to himself than to John. His fingers tightened until his knuckles grew pale, “I can’t miss a night. I have to do this.”

John opened his mouth to argue, but Thorne, sitting off to the side, cut him a warning glance. The White Cloak had seen Alyssor’s stubborn streak too many times to bother trying to change his mind.

John just sighed and nodded his head, “Very well.”

Alyssor didn’t say anything, a flash of blue and brown tossing a glance over his being before he stood to his full height. Cracking his neck he tousled his dark locks and then turned to his two guards, “I’ll be back before dawn break, remember to be quiet and stay here.”

“Aye / heard,” the two said like clockwork, Alyssor giving one more determined nod before lifting the heavy basket of fish and pulling it over his shoulder. His feet leading him forward, towards the distant sounds of the rolling ocean.

John and Rickard watched him go, waiting until the sounds of his steps receded into the depths of the forest before they turned to each other. Rickard raises an eyebrow and waits patiently for John to finally say, “Should we really be doing this? We’re letting the Prince of Westeros walk off into the countryside without any sort of guards!”

Rickard hummed, digging his stick underneath a log he lifted it up, sparks tossing up into the air as he said, “You’ve never had an issue with it before, why now?”

John growled, his fist clenching and unclenching as he tossed his head to the floor, burning a hole into the ground as a storm of thoughts brewed in his head. Rickard just sent him a bored glance, his storm-gray eyes peeking through dark locks as he watched the younger knight. Silence overcoming them before he suddenly said, “I didn’t want to be a white-cloak.”

John froze, his eyes fluttering before his head shot up, “What?!”

Rickard moved slowly, sitting up straighter he rolled his head around his shoulders before leveling his gaze upon his fellow knight, “I wanted a daughter at one point in my life. I was going to name her Annabeth, or if he was a son, Luke. I would marry some daughter of a minor lord and raise a family happily. It was my dream, much like it was for many people.” His eyes fell away from John as his head turned towards the forest, shadows darting amongst falling leaves that fell to the ground like raindrops.

John smacked his lips, his brow furrowing, “I…then why’d you take the vows?”

Rickard hummed thoughtfully and looked towards the flames, settling back onto his knees he picked up his stick and stuck it into the ground. His hand holding it tight like the pommel of a sword, “Alyssor…he’s why I took the vows.”

“...but, why…how?”

John flicked his gray eyes up to John’s brown, the two holding their gazes for a long while. Alyssor wouldn’t have been more than 5 when Rickard took the vows. It didn’t make much sense for a 5-names-day old child to be the predilection of if you would become a white-cloak , to attempt to join such a prestigious position.

“I was 24 at the time, a knight with a few tourneys under his belt and the eldest son of House Thorne. I had a lot looking for me when I returned to my house's seat…that is until I decided to participate in a tourney at Kings Landing.”

A smile broke on Rickards face, his teeth shining in the glow of the fire as he shook his head slightly, “I of course had heard of the golden babe and his shadow of a brother. I was interested, but far too-low of a station to ever see either in person. At least until this tourney where as I was participating I looked up to the royal box and found both of them side-by-side. Aegon shining bright like the sun while his brother seemed completely intent to just fade into the cushions of his seat.”

A deep, gruntled laugh fell from his lips as he leaned backwards and clapped his hands together, “I don’t know why, but seeing that shadow cling to the sun made me interested. There was just something about it, and as I kept finding my attention dragged towards the young prince I eventually saw him light up just like his brother.”

Rickard turned towards John as he leaned forward again, his lips quirked into a grin as he muttered, “You haven’t gotten to see it yet, but despite how brooding our liege may seem there is one time where he may shine even brighter than Aegon.”

John leaned forward, his own interest piqued as he looked over the flames that attempted to lick the heavens, “When?”

“The young princess,” Rickard mused, his head shaking again as if he was reminiscing on something hilarious.

“Helaena?” John asked breathlessly, his brow coming together as scooted back a little, “She’s able to do that?”

“Indeed,” Rickard said, pulling his stick out of the ground before he stuck it into the flames, “It’s like black magic I say, he just turns from completely non-committed to full attention, like that .”

John jumped slightly as Rickard snapped his fingers, yet confusion still blossomed in his chest, “But what does our prince's interest in his sister have to do with you taking the vows …?”

“Well,” Rickard smacked his lips, a faint smile playing at the corner of his mouth, “That was only part of it. The other part? I ran into the young prince himself. He’d slipped away from his nannies and his mother at some point, and I just stumbled across him.” Rickard paused, his eyes growing distant as he recalled the memory. “He flashed me this… devilish glare, like a little beast, before darting behind an alcove. Guards were right on his heels, and I didn’t know whether to laugh or bow. After they passed, he gave me another look, like he was daring me to say a word. Then, off he went.”

John leaned forward, his lips parting slightly. “And… that’s what made you try to get in?”

Rickard gave a slow nod. “Aye. Something about that boy struck me. Didn’t expect much to come of it though, until one day…” He hesitated, his voice lowering. “The Queen brought her son in to choose his knight.”

John’s eyes widened, his breath catching. “He… he chose you?”

Rickard’s face hardened, his gaze locking onto John. “Yes.”

John sat back, his mind racing. “I… I don’t…”

“Just like he chose you,” Rickard cut in, his tone firm, almost cutting. John’s head snapped up, eyes searching Rickard’s face, the realization creeping in. Rickard didn’t need to say it twice—he wasn’t just recounting some distant memory. He was drawing a parallel. Alyssor had chosen John, too.

The words hung in the air, thick with meaning. John’s throat felt tight, his mouth dry as doubt warred with the swelling sense of responsibility in his chest.

“I trust Alyssor’s instincts,” Rickard said, voice steady. “His intuition. His intelligence. Call it whatever you want. The boy’s sharp—sharp enough to know what he’s doing, even when it seems like he’s off chasing wild notions.”

John’s brow furrowed, uncertainty clouding his features. “But this… this feels different. What if—”

“What if nothing,” Rickard interrupted, his voice dropping to a dangerous calm. “We need to trust him now, same as we’ve always done. Even if it seems unwise, we follow his lead. It’s what he chose us for.”

John’s hands fidgeted in his lap, the weight of Rickard’s words pressing down on him. His chest tightened with doubt, fear creeping in around the edges of his thoughts. But beneath it all, there was something else—a seed of belief. In Alyssor. In his choice.

He nodded slowly, though his throat felt dry as sand. “You’re right,” he muttered, half to himself. “We… we have to trust him.”

Rickard’s expression softened, just a touch. “Aye. We do.”

The silence stretched between them, thick with unspoken fears, but there was a shared understanding now. Both of them were placing their faith in Alyssor—whether it led to triumph or ruin, they would follow him, come what may.

Alyssor laid alone on the ground, face pressed against the damp earth and groaning hard. Cold dew clinging to his skin, sending a chill through his bones. Maybe I truly am insane , he thought. Waiting here every night, with nothing but the whisper of the waves and the empty sky above him. Maybe this is it . My life .

He rolled onto his back, staring up at the moon that hung, distant and unbothered, in the sky. The stars blinked back at him like they were mocking his persistence. A sigh escaped his lips—long, heavy, and full of frustration.

Nothing but waves. The sound of waves crashing against rocks being the only indication he was still alive and inside the cove that now haunted his nightmares. Staring up at its large stoney walls with very little predilection of anything else.

Wait? What?

Alyssor sat up, his pulse quickening. Something was off. He was only hearing waves? He strained his ears trying to find any kind of sound around him. Insects should be out right now, it was their mating season and that incessant chirping was the only thing that told him he was still living and hadn’t died in the nightly cold. He looked towards the sky, scanning it for anything, expecting to find the same all-consuming, yet familiar emptiness. But then–there. A shadow, black against the moonlit sky…and it was coming in fast .

All of a sudden a gust of wind hit him hard, sending sand and dust skittering across the beach. Alyssor nearly flew back, his eyes having to strain through the particles just to get a glance of large wings which beat with a sound of thunder.

It’s him. It’s Noxarys.

For a heartbeat, Alyssor was frozen. His eyes just watched as the dust cleared and the entire beach was empty, the large layout of fish he had left on the beach gone and his basket crushed into dust. Then he stumbled in the soft sands, landing flat on the ground, the breath knocked out of him. His chest heaved as he stared at the spot where the dragon had been–where the darkness had consumed the sky and then vanished just as quickly.

Alyssor couldn’t help but grin. It had taken 2 years…but finally… finally something .

He scrambled for his journal, fumbling with the pages, hands shaking as he hastily scribbled notes under the dim moonlight. The words came out shaky, barely legible, but he didn’t care. He had seen Noxarys. He had seen him. It had taken nearly 3 years, but it had happened. He had seen the dragon again.

He barely noticed the cold, glittering eyes watching him from above—perched on a rocky outcrop, hidden in shadow. The dragon watched, silent, as the prince wrote feverishly in the sand-scented air below.

Alyssor sat at his desk in the dimly lit room of the Citadel, the steady droning of a Maester’s voice in the background fading into oblivion as his focus zeroed in on the paper in front of him. His quill hovered above the page, dripping ink in small, forgotten dots. He wasn’t really listening to the lecture on Westerosi politics—it was all so tedious compared to the fire burning in his chest.

His thoughts were far away, lost to the image he was drawing—an image that had been haunting his mind ever since he caught a fleeting glimpse of the beast through the wind-swept sand. Noxarys. He knew the dragon was dark, a shadow given form, his scales either pure black or close enough that they melted into the night. That brief glimpse had been enough to send his imagination running wild.

The shape of the dragon’s sleek, deadly form was starting to take shape on the page, his quill scratching across the parchment as he added the last few details. Noxarys was more than just a dragon—he was a phantom of the sky, a thing of legend brought to life, sleek and swift, with piercing blue eyes that had haunted Alyssor's thoughts since that night.

Just as he was about to add more to the drawing, a sharp, sudden smack to the back of his head made him jump.

"Ow!" Alyssor yelped, spinning around in his seat, clutching his head with one hand and looking up at the culprit. His uncle, Vaegon, stood above him, his expression unreadable but his piercing violet eyes narrowing in disapproval.

"You might want to start paying attention, Alyssor," Vaegon said in his usual stoic tone, his arms crossed as he stared down at his nephew. "Or did you come here to daydream about dragons?"

Alyssor, rubbing the back of his head, grinned despite himself. "Well, maybe if the lesson wasn’t so… enthralling , I wouldn’t have to escape into my own thoughts."

Vaegon gave him a withering look, his eyes shifting from the half-drawn image of Noxarys on the page to Alyssor’s face. "You’re a fool if you think you can coast through your studies, dreams of a dragon or not."

"Coast?" Alyssor chuckled, leaning back in his chair, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "Uncle, I’ve already earned seven links, including the one I just earned this morning." He paused, his grin widening. "Medicine, if you must know."

Vaegon raised an eyebrow, his expression softening just the slightest bit, though it was hard to tell. "So you’ve finally passed the examination. I suppose congratulations are in order."

"Don’t strain yourself, Uncle, I can feel your overwhelming pride," Alyssor teased, though there was genuine warmth in his voice. Despite Vaegon’s stern demeanor, the two had grown closer over the years, and Alyssor had grown used to his uncle’s gruff way of showing affection.

"How many links until you’re finally rid of me?" Alyssor asked, his voice light but edged with curiosity.

"More than you think," Vaegon replied, his voice flat as ever. "Your journeys to Essos might fill your head with exotic knowledge, but the Maesters expect more than scattered travels and dragon sightings to complete your chain."

At the mention of Noxarys, Alyssor’s gaze flickered back to his drawing, his mind drifting to that haunting glimpse of the dragon. "What do you think, Uncle?" Alyssor asked, tapping the edge of the page. "I’ve only seen hints of him—black scales, lean form, built for speed rather than brute strength. It’s unlike anything I’ve seen or read about in any of the texts here."

Vaegon’s eyes briefly flicked to the sketch. "A dragon built for precision is rare," he mused. "But not unheard of. Many in Valyria bred their beasts for specific purposes. Noxarys could be one of those relics."

Alyssor nodded, excitement bubbling up inside him as he leaned forward. "Exactly! That’s what I’ve been thinking. The shape of his wings, the way he moves—he’s more of a hunter than a warrior. Like he’s adapted to his life in the wild, feeding on smaller prey."

Vaegon gave him a long, assessing look. "For someone who’s only seen ‘hints,’ you’ve developed quite the theory, haven’t you?"

Alyssor paused, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "That’s because I didn’t just see hints, Uncle."

Vaegon’s brows knitted together, his piercing gaze sharpening. "What do you mean?"

Alyssor leaned back in his chair, folding his arms across his chest, the smile on his face growing wider. "I saw him. Noxarys. Face to face…"

For a moment, Vaegon said nothing. His expression didn’t change, but the subtle shift in his posture betrayed his surprise. "You saw him?"

Alyssor’s face took on a sheepish look, “Well, somewhat, last night.” running his hand along the scruff of his neck he dropped his voice into a whisper, “He finally took the fish I laid out from him, though he threw so much sand into the air I couldn’t get too much of a look.”

Vaegon’s eyes narrowed further, his voice turning cold with both caution and curiosity. "And he let you live."

Alyssor shrugged, though the thrill of that encounter was still fresh in his mind. "I guess he liked the fish."

Vaegon exhaled slowly, his hand running over his chin as he processed the revelation. "You’re walking a dangerous path, Alyssor. Dragons are not pets. You can’t predict them."

"I’m not trying to tame him, Uncle," Alyssor replied, more seriously now. "I just… I need to understand him. There’s something about him, something ancient, something lost in the world. And I think he sees me."

Vaegon’s gaze lingered on his nephew for a long moment before he shook his head, a ghost of a smile barely touching the corners of his lips. "You’re either a fool or a visionary. Time will tell."

Alyssor laughed, standing up and gathering his notes. "Let’s hope it’s the latter. I have more work to do tonight."

Vaegon watched him as he moved to leave the room, his voice carrying the weight of both warning and something like pride. "Be careful, Alyssor. And good luck. You'll need it."

Alyssor smiled over his shoulder. "Thanks, Uncle. I’ll be back before you even know I’m gone."

With that he left the classroom, his steps light and determined as he headed towards the rest of his duties. Tonight he was certain he would see Noxarys again… he had too…

Alyssor moved through the familiar grove, the cool evening air settling in as he dragged the basket of fish toward the rocky clearing where he’d been leaving offerings for weeks. His muscles strained with the weight, but he kept moving forward, his mind focused on what he might see tonight. He’d spotted the dragon from afar once all those years ago, and then occasionally thought he had seen the distant shadow of Noxarys against the moonlight, but never up close. Not like this.

The dragon had finally shown himself directly to Alyssor, that had to mean something. It had to be a sign or something…his efforts weren’t wasted. Finally reaching the usual spot Alyssor slung the basket down. His thoughts pounding against the corners of his head as he muttered to himself.

Perhaps all his efforts wouldn’t be wasted…perhaps his family would be proud…perhaps his mother would-

Alyssor snapped his mouth shut, a grunt of annoyance rumbling in his chest as he pulled away from the basket. Flicking its top off in the same motion. He let out a long sigh and looked to the sky…

Cloudless and beautiful, stars twinkling amidst the frozen eyes of gods.

Alyssor felt a smile come to his lips. This was going to work-

Thud.

He froze, his breath catching in his throat as the unmistakable sound of leathery wings filled the air. Beating wind back that buffed against him. The air shifted, a low, rumbling exhale sending shivers up his spine. Alyssor swallowed…the ground trembled.

This fucking dragon…

Slowly, almost instinctively, he turned.

There, towering above him, was Noxarys

The dragon was sleek obsidian, a thin, lean frame casting a shadow directly over Alyssor that seemed to swallow the very earth itself. His inky black scales, blending into the night, making his body appear as though it had materialized from the darkness itself. The dragon’s pale blue eyes, cold and piercing, were fixed on Alyssor. Glowing with an eerie intensity that sent a thrill of both fear and awe coursing through his limbs. Noxarys eyes were like windows into an ancient and unknowable power, watching him with a surprising intelligence, and calculating glint.

Noxarys’s head lowered slightly, his broad jaw hinting at the sheer power hidden behind it, mouth sliding open as he growled again. Snake-like teeth barely visible behind his lips promising a swift end to Alyssor if he dared to move out of line.

The dragon's immense frame shifted with his body as he turned towards the side, Alyssor’s eye-catching sight of thin spikes that almost seemed to bend with the air that fanned gracefully out along his neck. More extending down his back and shifting as he moved, they were like shadows dancing in the wind.

Alyssor stood motionless, his eyes still-locked onto Noxarys as he nearly drowned from the tension that hung in the air. His heart raced in his chest as he fought back a mixture of fear that asked him to run and awe which asked him to commit what he saw to paper.

They stared at each other in silence, the dragon’s sharp, slitted eyes narrowing slightly as it studied him. Alyssor took a deep breath. He couldn’t show fear, but he also could not stand directly in front of the dragons food. With deliberate slowness he took a single step to the side, moving out of the dragon’s direct path to the basket. Noxarys didn’t flinch, merely tilting his head as if considering whether this human before him posed any threat.

Alyssor swallowed hard, keeping his movements calm and steady. He went to step past the dragon, eyes still on the massive creature. His throat suffocation tight as he continued to move out of the dragon's way, but as he took his first step past the beast, his foot caught on a loose rock, and he stumbled. Instinctively, he braced for impact, but the fall never came.

Instead a large object pressed up into his chest, Alyssor’s eyes fluttering open as surprise flickered in his chest. Noxary’s tail, a lithe, whip-like thing with a leathery…

Oh…by the fucking gods …this is awesome!

Alyssor’s face morphed into a giant smile as his hands instinctively flexed around the leathery feeling of the tale. A whoop of joy building in his chest which he almost let out, only to smooth it as he realized what he was doing…

He was squeezing a dragon…a wild dragon's tail as if it was a cat…

Alyssor swallowed and looked up towards Noxarys head, finding the dragon just looking at him. Head tilted to the side much like a cat before he pulled his tail away from Alyssor. The young prince stumbled slightly but not being sent tumbling into the sand and rocks as he could only stare at the dragon.

Noxarys found his expression amusing or something because it let out a lower, keening almost sort of rumbling from within its chest before turning towards the basket of fish. Then with the quiet precision of a master hunter, his massive form lowered without making a sound as he began to devour the offering. Alyssor watched, a sense of wonder filling him as the dragon tore into the meal–

What the fuck…it has retractable teeth?!?!?

Alyssor had watched from just behind the dragon's lips as its long teeth retracted like a snake's fangs before it started to swallow the fish hole.

Alyssor blinked, his shock quickly morphing into a mixture of surprise and exhilaration. He kept his emotions tightly in check, refusing to let the grin break through his stoic expression, but inside he was filled with joy. 

He knew he should run, get away from a creature which could turn on him at any moment. But he couldn't help but to just marvel at the sight before him, his mind buzzing with the idea that Noxarys truly was a different species of dragon, much like Caraxes was. In just the span of a few moments he had learned why the creature stuck by the ocean so much, he was practically perfectly made for fishing!

Alyssor reached into his satchel, pulling out his notebook and a piece of charcoal. He crouched a few feet away, beginning to sketch the dragon, his eyes tracing the arch of Noxarys’s wings, the jagged curve of his spine, the way his claws raked against the earth as he ate. Every detail was etched into his memory, the moment too precious to let slip away.

He was thinner than a dragon of his age should be, with a more-narrow wing span but a tail with large fans at the back. Suspected reason is for agile maneuvers over water, perhaps between rock crags?

Neck and head broader than most dragons…retractable fangs and perhaps jaw can unhinge? Would need to get closer, but would track with the dragon staying near water at all times.

Broad…paw-like feet? Reminds me of the Owl that Archmaester Geralt keeps.

Alyssor did his best to write down and draw rough sketches of what he could, but he eventually ran out of time. Noxarys finishing his meal with a loud snap, his head raising to the sky as with a single flick of his lips he cleaned bits of food which had managed to get on his snout whenever he didn’t just swallow the fish whole. His wings stretch out to the sides as Alyssor’s eyes widen, his body scrambling backwards to get out of the way. The wind from Noxarys’s wings whipped around him as the great beast took to the sky, disappearing into the night.

For a long moment, Alyssor stood there, heart pounding, the thrill of what had just happened coursing through his veins. He packed away his notebook, his face still neutral but his chest tight with excitement. He couldn’t wait to get back to town, to reflect on everything he’d seen, everything he’d learned. To show Rickard and John his drawings, to see their faces light up with interest much like how his own heart now beats with excitement!