Fierce, strong, unyielding, untamable. These words the realm whispers when they speak of the youngest daughter of the Seasnake. But when describing his youngest son only one word is needed: greenseer. House Velaryon has a difficult history with the...
4 years Later (Laena &Laenor are 25, Viserra is 23, Aemar is 18, Daeron Velaryon is 24, Rhaenyra is 27, Aegon is 12, Helaena is 10, Aemond is 8, Maela is 8, Jace is 7, Baela & Rhaena are 6, Luke is 4, Daeron Targaryen is 4)
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
It had been some years since Daemon Targaryen, the Rogue Prince, strutted through the halls of High Tide like he owned the place. His wife, Lady Laena, had insisted on another journey across the Narrow Sea so she could take her children to the capitol to see their Uncle Laenor again. Usually, Daemon did not bother himself with these trips but Pentos itself was becoming a bore – much like everyplace else he had been in the last nine years. However, unlike the other places Pentos knew how lucky it was to host Targaryens and – if nothing else – Daemon enjoyed being worshipped as he believed he so should be. He knew he would return to Pentos, but in the meantime he would enjoy his reprieve from it as he stirred things up for the Velaryons. The sun had just set, the hour of the bat settling in, and servants were all around him lighting torches on the walls to keep High Tide well lit.
As he passed a window – the same in which he and Laena had spoken of their betrothal so long ago – he spotted a flash of motion. His steps paused abruptly as he turned his head and tried to find the source of the movement.
He caught sight of a shadow moving hastily across one of the courtyards below, but he could not make out who it was, only that they were moving quickly.
Someone who did not wish to be caught.
How unfortunate. He thought as he smirked picking up his pace to pursue.
The shadows served Daemon as well as the members of his City Watchmen. Many of whom were still loyal to the Prince. Despite his absence. It filled Daemon with a sense of pride and gave him an additional reason to smirk to himself. He knew Otto Hightower would simply abhor Daemon's influence in anything regarding the Red Keep or the Seven Kingdoms. He and the former Hand had always been at odds. Otto thought he knew so much more about ruling since he was also Hand to Jaehaerys. But Daemon knew the man was not to be trusted. Nothing had pleased him more then when he had heard of the man's sacking. It was the best decision his brother had made during his entire reign, nearly twenty years long now. The only thing he could have done better was appoint Daemon to the post, but Ser Strong was as good a choice as any. At least he was not self interested. A rarity.
And, he supposed, not having a place on the Small Council meant Daemon was free to do what he pleased. Like uncovering other's secrets. As he was now.
He strode across the courtyard, following the steps carved into the hillside to another plateau as the sound of blades clashing reached his ears. It would not be pitch black out until the hour of the wolf, and with the moon still shining high whoever was out here sneaking in training sessions would have enough light to see by.
Daemon made sure to find and make good use of the shadows, and the crags and the rocks of the coast aided in that immensely. Veering off the steps his sure footing led him through the rough terrain until he found a nice place to rest his back against as he enjoyed the show.
