YEAR 130 AC
Aemond's head was growing heavy with overwhelming thoughts, his arms were crossed on his chest, and his gaze seemed to be floating away. His whole body was tense. He felt an uncontrollable rage building up inside of him, taking over his being like a predator. As he was staring at a random spot on the wall, trying to get his thoughts together, sounds of despair were filling the walls of the chambers.
"This is impossible... What were the odds that she would survive?" Daena kept muttering, walking around the room back and forth. An expression of genuine surprise and disappointment froze on the Lady's face, not letting her go even for a second.
It was, indeed, quite ironic: how terrified she used to be at the mere thought of being the one to blame for Rhaenyra's death, and how dissatisfied she was with the news of her survival.
"Even when the odds are the smallest, it doesn't exclude the possibility completely." Ser Criston uttered. The emotions on his face were impossible to read. He merely stood at the entrance to the chambers, the spot he took as soon as he came into the room, and observed his master and mistress as they were falling into the abyss of distress.
"Whether the whore lives or not, matters not. She had lost her dragon, and would never be able to claim another one. If she is no dragon rider, she is no Targaryen. She is nothing." Aemond's voice finally filled the premises, attracting both Daena's and Criston's attention to him.
"Aegon had lost his dragon too. Does it make him less of a king?" Daena asked, biting her lip slightly with an unsatisfied expression on her face.
"My lady, whether Sunfyre is dead or not - we do not know. You shouldn't jump to conclusions." Ser Criston intervened. However, both Targaryens seemed to turn a deaf ear to him, being too preoccupied with their own discussion.
"Who we should be worried about is Daemon. The fucker is the single holder of the Blacks' power. We take care of him - and the war is as good as won." Aemond rose from his chair, looking at his wife with certain determination in his eyes. "I will fly to King's Landing, take Daemon down, and burn the bitch to the ashes. The war will turn much shorter than expected."
As soon as the words had hit her ears, Daena rushed to Prince Regent, taking his hand in hers.
"That is a horrible idea, Aemond. Don't forget: not only do they have Caraxes, but also a whole bunch of seeds with their dragons. This will turn into a gamble with your life. And that we cannot afford... I won't let you."
The silver-haired man turned a stunned gaze at his wife: his expectations of Daena's approval shattered into million pieces. After all, that was the reason why his wife flew all the way to Harrenhal from the Red Keep - to summon him. Now, however, she was stopping him from going.
"Lady Daena is right, my prince." Criston attempted to join the conversation once again, and this try was successful, as both the Prince and his wife switched their attention to him. "We don't know anything about King Aegon's whereabouts, not to mention his injuries and Sunfyre's overall ability to fight. Prince Daeron is too young, and Lady Daena is with child. You, my prince, are the sole protector of them all as well as the realm, and you cannot put your life at risk for the sake of your ambition only."
Aemond's eyes were filling with fury once more: his Hand and former mentor knew him so well that it was almost annoying. Criston didn't lie: it was mostly his undying ambition that was driving him into the direct confrontation with Daemon. However, Cole didn't lie about their situation either: Aemond was the only one who truly granted everyone's safety.
"My love, trust me, Daemon will come for both of us soon enough. That I am sure about. And here, in our land, he will be forced to play by our rules. Vhagar and Vermithor together will take him down without a problem. All the dragons won't be leaving King's Landing at once for the sake of Rhaenyra's safety. We will wear them out. We will make them hunt us down only to be slain in battle."
Daena was no fool: the soft voice she always used to persuade her husband about something sounded vividly that very moment, making the rage in Aemond's eyes calm down subtly.
"And once they are all gone..." She whispered, leaning slightly to his ear. "We will take what is ours."
Aemond brushed his hand against Daena's cheek, his lips curling into a small smile.
"You are right, my love." He uttered, wrapping his arm around Daena's waist. Even the presence of Criston didn't seem to bother him at all. "Fine, I will stay."
"And as for Aegon's whereabouts..." Daena went on. "You are wrong, Ser Criston. I know exactly where he is. I knew something like that would happen, so I made all the arrangements."
Cole chuckled, his eyes now focused on the beautiful woman.
"I was a fool to assume you didn't think it through, my lady," Dornishman said. "Where is he?"
* * *
The next was spent in the meetings of the council that seemed to have no end. It was decided that Ser Criston Cole and most of the army would march all the way to the Oldtown, as a support for Lord Ormund Hightower and young Prince Daeron. Their place in Harrenhal would be taken by the Northmen: Daena had sent the raven to Cregan Stark, asking for more men. He would not refuse, she knew, so it was a matter of time till the army of the Greens in the South would double or even triple. Prince Aemond was to stay in the Riverlands, waiting for any possible provocations from the Blacks, if any were to come. Daena, on the other hand, the most intriguing mission ahead of her. No matter how much her husband opposed the idea, she was determined to find Aegon and bring him to Harrenhal. Luckily, she knew exactly where to look for him, so the whole mission was supposed to be a mere voyage, and that was, perhaps, the only reason the Kinslayer had allowed it. Late at night, for the sake of remaining unnoticeable, Daena, on the back of her loyal Vermithor, had left Harrenhal, making her way to the place she used to call home for quite some years... The Casterly Rock.
* * *
"And here we meet again, dear friend." The female voice echoed sonorously in the hall of the throne room.
Alicent, gathering all of her physical strength, lifted her head. Her exhausted face was pale, like a blank canvas, her eyes were crimson red, for the small blood vessels kept bursting in the whites. Her weary gaze was focused on the Iron Throne, which wasn't taken by her son Aegon anymore. Instead, there was a plump silver-haired woman, with small drops of blood all over her limbs. The Throne hadn't accepted her, a thought immediately appeared in Alicent's head, as her sight shifted to the little cuts on Rhaenyra's legs and arms. Aegon had never been cut by the steel of the Throne.
"Why are you so silent? Isn't it fitted to greet your Queen, Alicent?" Rhaenyra's voice became slightly more stern than a moment ago.
"Why are you doing this, Rhaenyra?" The Green Queen's faint voice finally fell onto the Black Queen's ears. "Why don't you just kill me? Why not kill me the way you killed my father?"
Otto Hightower had been beheaded immediately after Rhaenyra took over the Red Keep. While that all happened, the guards of the Blacks were scouring the castle in search of other Greens, only to find sole Alicent in her own chambers. Aegon had disappeared, and so did his children. Rhaenyra was disappointed, however, not quite surprised. It would've been too easy, she thought, if the Greens hadn't put up a fight.
"I don't need your death, Alicent. It, the same as your life, serves no purpose." The Black Queen tilted her head slightly to the left. "Tell me, as my former friend, for the sake of our sweet friendship back in the days... Why did you betray me? Why did my brothers, my own blood, betray me?"
Alicent didn't take her eyes away from Rhaenyra's as she said:
"It was never my intention to betray you. But I am a mother, and so are you. Wouldn't you betray me to protect your children?"
"Protect them? From what? From me? Am I an abomination to you, Alicent?" A small wave of desperation hit the silver-haired Queen's voice as she went on. "Do you believe I would've harmed your children, my siblings, if they stayed loyal to me as their Queen?"
"I do, Rhaenyra. Every other thing that escapes your lips is a lie, is it not? How could I trust you? Or Daemon?" The copper-haired lady responded curtly, her voice plain.
The Targaryen Queen sighed loudly, placing her hands on her lap.
"Whatever the odds, do you think the actions of yours would bring them a better fate? They could've been by my side, living their lives as they saw fit. But now they will all be found and charged with high treason. And we both know what the punishment is."
Alicent stayed silent. Her arms were now shaking with rage, her lips pursing.
"You will have no one to blame for their deaths but yourself. Aegon, Aemond, Daeron, Daena... So many lives were sacrificed to the war you and your father had started." Rhaenyra went on, her voice unwavering.
"Neither me nor my father, nor you are to blame for this war, Rhaenyra," Alicent uttered at last. "Viserys could've done so much to prevent this war. Yet he chose not to. He left us all to deal with the consequences. Don't you think so?"
"Don't you dare speak my father's name." The Black Queen rose from the throne, her eyes now turning angry. "He was utterly clear on who was the heir to the Throne."
"And yet, with his last breath, he whispered Aegon's name to me," Alicent said, a note of pride noticeable in her voice. "Where were you when Viserys was on the deathbed? Where were you for years of his slow decay? It was me, Rhaenyra, who ruled the Seven Kingdoms. Me and my children. Our council, our leal men, not yours."
Rhaenyra froze at her spot, pressing her lips together.
"You ran away, like a craven you are! Hiding your bastards in Dragonstone, thinking the court would just forget about your shame! And now you have come to reap the fruits of my blood, sweat and tears! You are call my son the usurper? You will see the true usurper in the mirror, Rhaenyra!"
"Take her to her chambers." The Targaryen promptly hissed at her the guards who were holding Alicent in their arms.
As two men lifted the Green Queen's depleted body, she kept saying loudly:
"My children will come for you! They will come and bring justice we all deserve!"
How many times she had said it while being dragged out of the throne room, Rhaenyra had lost count. She must have gone mad, like my dear sister Helaena, she said to herself, as her fingers carefully brushed over the cuts on her right arm.
* * *
It took Daena the whole night without any sleep to reach Lannisport. The flight was relatively peaceful, and, very fortunately, Vermithor didn't make any noise at all, remaining unnoticed throughout the whole journey. As Daena's eyes, moved from one cloud to another, she found herself thinking of Aegon. She didn't know if he would be in Casterly Rock by the time she arrived at the castle. She didn't even know if her heavily injured, bedridden brother ever made it out of the capital and wasn't slain in his attempts to do so. The pain of these mere thoughts shackled her, her mind was turning feverish in worry and fear. She knew: once, or if, she finds him safe and sound in Casterly Rock, she wouldn't part with him again. Her love for him grew tenfold in the shade of her anxiety. Daena's grip on the bridle was becoming stronger and stronger, as she was determined to get to Lannisport as soon as possible.
Upon her arrival, a bitter disappointment awaited Daena. She was received instantly by Ser Arundel himself, the regent she appointed for her late son. He, without any hesitation, provided the Lady with the chambers, a warm bath, and food on her dining table, however, he couldn't provide her with what she desired the most at that moment - seeing Aegon. He was said to never have arrived at Lannisport, which made Daena's heartbeat increase in worrisome sensation. She hadn't lost hope completely though: she intended to stay at the Casterly Rock for several more days and see. She had another reason to proceed with this decision as well: three very curious little faces were peeking into Daena's chambers as she was getting out of the fetched wooden bathtub.
As soon as Daena got dressed, she heard a deafening "Mother!" before feeling the little arms of her daughter Ceryssa wrap around her waist. Her dear girl, how much she had missed her. Daena instantly locked her arms around her silver-haired child, as well as little Jaehaera and Maelor, who joined the embraces promptly. The children seemed to stick to Daena's side as if they were inseparably attached to her, yet the Lady didn't have a single complaint about it. Very soon, they all got into Daena's bed together.
"The day is done, the sun is gone, the birds no longer sing,
Aye, sleep, my babies, see the dreams the night will surely bring.."
Daena sang quietly, carefully stroking the silver hairs of her children as she found herself drifting to sleep.
* * *
Daena spent the next day with the children only: she taught Ceryssa and Jaehaera some small elements of embroidery, even though she didn't know much of the craft herself; she took a ride off the back of Dreamfyre with Ceryssa, who had begged her to do so for several hours; she walked around the garden with Maelor, helping him look for some kind of rocks he was apparently now collecting.
The evening, however, had brought Lady Targaryen a very unexpected news. As she was standing on the balcony of her chambers, she noticed something descending from the sky above the castle. Before the fear had a chance to take over her body, she realized that it was, on the contrary, a beam of hope, sent by the Seven themselves... A creature that promptly landed near the castle was Sunfyre. Not only did Daena rejoice at the sight of Aegon's dragon being alive and well, it seemed, but also there was more to it: since his dragon arrived here, Aegon must be close.