Prince Baelon has never witnessed anything of this nature previously.
Queen Aemma's chambers were full of midwives including Grand Maester Mellos. The midwives all had a quiet purpose. They arranged silk sheets, heated water, and soothing herbs, all while they were casting quick glances at the queen whose labor was imminent. The air was charged with anticipation as the queen's contractions grew stronger, her breathing deepening with each wave. The chamber usually looked bright in past days but in that moment it didn't seem that way. The only light that generated any kind of lightning was the sunlight shining on Queen Aemma's face. Her forehead was already full of sweat and her face of discomfort is more obvious than the previous days.
The midwives too were full of sweat on their foreheads as they worked tirelessly preparing everything for the queen to ensure a smooth process. Their faces were full of concern, Baelon could see that very well, after many times of this happening and no babe coming through in the past places them in a difficult position.
In the midst of it all, Prince Baelon is caressing his aunt's head. He wanted nothing more than to help or provide something to make any of this bearable for her but he can't. He knows he can't do anything. Baelon only has to let nature take over the situation.
"You will be alright." he whispered as Aemma groaned again. "You will get through this."
He doesn't know how Aemma managed to reply, she chuckled while in pain. "Y'know...after a lot of time...I think I am finally going to have my little Baelon."
He couldn't help but smile in return. "Baelon? You finally decided."
She nodded again. "Baelon is fitting. Besides, you were always like a son to me." Aemma shifted uncomfortably in her bed. "I hope you don't mind."
"Nonsense, I don't. I told you that before. I'm honored." Baelon gave his aunt a kiss on her forehead.
"Mother?"
Queen Aemma and Prince Baelon both looked towards the door to find Princess Rhaenyra.
Prince Baelon's eyes were captivated by the sight of Princess Rhaenyra standing there, adorned in a stunning crimson gown. She looked absolutely resplendent, a vision of elegance and grace, her presence casting a radiant glow in the room.
She approached the two of them, Baelon giving her space to have some time with her mother.
They exchanged a few words. It was mainly Rhaenyra giving her words of encouragement.
Baelon smiled at their interaction. It was no secret that these two women loved each other more than words could provide. It made him miss his mother.
"I will be alright, my love," she smiled through the pain, "go on, I will see you soon."
"I love you mother."
"I love you more my dear."
Rhaenyra let go of her mothers hand while the midwives were trying to place the queen in a more comfortable position.
She looked at Baelon, who was already looking at her. "So, the tournament, shall we?"
Prince Baelon just kept looking at her purple eyes. Something about them on this particular day was different. Her eyes were like two brilliant purple gemstones that seemed to pierce through the darkness. He immediately thought her eyes would cast spells of enchantment on all who met her gaze.
"Baelon?" Rhaenyra managed to capture his attention, a slight smirk was forming on her face.
"Oh, yes," he offered his arm for her to take, "We shall."
***
"I heard about what Daemon did yesterday. It was a total circus according to Lord Otto."
"Otto Hightower told you that?"
Rhaenyra shook her head. "Alicent did."
"Ah," Baelon and Rhaenyra were getting closer to arrive at their seats in the stadium.
"And you were there." Rhaenyra looked at him with mischief in her eyes. "What are you...his puppet now?"
"I am not his puppet. I truly didn't know what was going to happen after it started. Besides, it wasn't like a lot of them didn't have it coming."
Rhaenyra chuckled. "Careful, you sound like him."
Baelon rolled his eyes and she continued to laugh at this. When he looked at her again, he finally noticed the new necklace that was placed on her neck. Odd, he hasn't seen that necklace before. "Beautiful necklace. Valyrian, isn't it?"
"Oh," she looked down at it and touched it with her free hand. "Yes." she blushed. "Yes, it is."
"Who gave it to you?"
Princess Rhaenyra looked at her cousin, still touching her necklace. "Daemon did."
Prince Baelon's demeanor appeared composed, but his clenched jaw and the intensity of his eyes betrayed the fire smoldering within. He concealed the burning anger that was rapidly wanting to explode.
His father did it.
"Well," he cleared his throat, "You look beautiful."
Princess Rhaenyra's face lit up with a delighted expression. "Thank you, cousin."
They finally arrived at the stairs. Baelon looked at her once more.
"After you."
Rhaenyra grabbed the sides of her dress and started to ascend the stairs whose destination was a large balcony. Prince Baelon followed closely behind.
"Be welcome!" King Viserys spoke loudly. "I know many of you have traveled long leagues to be at these games. But I promise you, you will not be disappointed."
Rhaenyra found her seat next to Lady Alicent in which Baelon sat next to Rhaenyra making her be in the middle between two people she cherish the most.
"When I look at the fine knights in these lists, I see a group without equal in our histories. And this great day has been made more auspicious by the news that I am happy to share: Queen Aemma has begun her labors!"
The crowd cheers as well as everyone present in the balcony with the King.
"May the luck of the Seven shine upon all combatants!"
Two knights joust in the center of the stadium. On the second run, one is dismounted. The audience cheers and the winner approaches the balcony, bowing.
"A mystery knight?" asked Rhaenyra.
"No," Alicent replied, "A Cole, of the Stormlands."
"I've never heard of House Cole."
"Me neither." said Baelon, not taking his eyes off of the tournament.
Boremund Baratheon approached the balcony on horseback. "Princess Rhaenys Targaryen! I would humbly ask for the favor of The Queen Who Never Was."
The nobles constantly ranged from expressions of astonishment and delight to ones of indifference and furrowed brows at their disapproval of Boremund Baratheon saying such things.
Prince Baelon hated that title. As much as he appreciates his uncle, he thinks Princess Rhaenys had what it takes to be a queen. Fair enough, it would have been nice for him to see a Targaryen on the Iron Throne with black hair like him.
Rhaenys approached and dropped a wreath on Boremund's lace. "Good fortune to you, cousin."
"I would gladly take it." He paused for a moment. "If I thought I needed it."
They smiled at each other although the smile Rhaenys gave wasn't exactly completely friendly. She sat down with her husband, Corlys Velaryon, and exchanged a look with him.
"Lord Strokeworths daughter is promised to that young Tarly squire." said Rhaenyra, pointing out with her head to the young Tarly squire.
"Lord Massey's son?" Alicent asked, surprised.
Rhaenyra nodded. "Mm-hm. They're to be married as soon as he wins his knighthood."
"Best get on with it." Alicent grinned. "I heard that Lady Elinor is hiding a swollen belly beneath her dress."
Both Baelon and Rhaenyra looked at Alicent in shock which she answered by nodding. Baelon wonders if that's actually true or just some gossip someone made up — probably Mushroom. Even though Baelon isn't completely fond of gossip he can't lie and say hearing it from Alicent and Rhaenyra isn't entertaining enough.
Boremund and Criston joust, with Boremund being dismounted. Ser Harrold kneels next to Rhaenyra's seat after she summons him.
"What do you know about Ser Criston Cole, Ser Harrold?"
"I'm told, Ser Criston common-born, son of Lord Dondarrion's steward. But other than that, and the fact that he's just unhorsed both of the Baratheon's lads, I really couldn't say." Harrold raised and walked away.
A Targaryen flag is placed and a group of knights ride out into the field.
Prince Baelon spots his father quickly on his horse. He looked ready for action. Baelon looked over the many choices of men to fight against him — immediately spotting Donald Tarly and Gwayne Hightower.
"Prince Daemon of House Targaryen, Prince of the City, will now choose his first opponent!" cried out Master of Revels. Daemon rides out and surveys the assembled jousters, eventually picking one wearing the Hightower sigil much to Baelon's delight. At least his father heard him out on his request. "For his first challenge, Prince Daemon Targaryen chooses Ser Gwayne Hightower of Oldtown, youngest son of the Hand of the King."
Rhaenyra grabbed Alicent's hand, to comfort her because she looked nervous for her brother. Prince Baelon heard Lyman behind him say Five dragons on Daemon. Baelon tried to contain himself from laughing at this, it was clear in his head that Daemon had this fight secured for the win.
Daemon essentially proved his son right. At the last minute, Daemon swings his lance in front of the hooves of Gwayne's horse, sending both tumbling over. Gwayne is injured but gets up, with nobles displaying different expressions about it. Daemon rides in front of the balcony. Rhaenyra, Baelon, and Alicent approach.
"Nicely done, Uncle."
"Thank you Princess." Daemon replied to Rhaenyra but now had his attention on Alicent. "Now, I'm fairly certain I can win these games, Lady Alicent. Having your favor would all but assure it."
Baelon scoffed and let out a snorting laugh, clearly taken aback by the levels his father is willing to go. Of course he will do such a thing. Gwayne was one thing but now this? Baelon could see Daemon will never stop until making Otto Hightowers life a nightmare.
But Baelon will not intervene. That is between his father and Otto.
Daemon stared at Rhaenyra wearing the necklace he gifted her and then his gaze went towards his son. Baelon stared at him as well. Alicent grabbed a wreath and dropped it on Daemon's lance.
"Good Luck, my Prince."
The three of them went back to their seats.
"You know, I thought I was going to see you down there today." said Rhaenyra, referring to Baelon participating in the tournament.
He shook his head. "No. Why bother? I would rather stay here and have all my body parts intact."
Princess Rhaenyra laughed. "I would prefer the same thing."
Many more fights took place right after.
A new intense fight was occurring that became the most unique from the previous ones. A knight from House Tyrell is dismounted and the crowd cheers. He pulls his opponent off his horse and begins to attack him.
Someone from the crowd screamed,"KILL HIM!"
Baelon flinched all while hearing how the people screamed for the Tyrell man to kill the knight while his punches and groans were heard extremely clearly. Someone pulled the Tyrell man out of the way and that's where Baelon thought everything was over yet the Tyrell slammed his axe down, finally killing the other knight.
Baelon's face quickly then turned into disgust when he saw a squire vomit as the dead knight was taken away.
"Ser Criston Cole will now tilt against Ser Daemon Targaryen, Prince of the City!"
Daemon and Criston prepare to joust. Neither is dismounted on their first go. Rhaenyra looks on nervously and grabs Baelon's hand tightly. Both grab new lances. As they collide again, Daemon lands on the barrier in the center of the joust, just barely failing to get back on his horse before falling off the end. He pushes away a man helping him up as Criston dismounts.
"SWORD!" Daemon yelled and a squire brought his sword.
"Prince Daemon Targaryen wishes to continue in a contest of arms!"
Prince Baelon was starting to get worried about what was going to happen next. He for sure didn't want no one else to die after seeing how the previous fight ended. Even if he didn't know Criston Cole, he didn't want all of this to end in bloodshed. He also didn't want his father to end up injured or dead. He was rooting for his father yet this Cole man was rather quick and very skilled as well.
Criston approached Daemon with his morningstar. They fight one another but then, Criston hits Daemon from behind, pinning one of his arms to the ground with his boot. "Yield."
Daemon doesn't do anything about it and Criston repeats himself. "Yield."
Prince Daemon yields after another moment of pause, much to Baelon's disappointment, swatting Criston's hand away as he gets up.
Rhaenyra, Alicent, and Baelon run to the edge of the balcony as Criston approaches.
"Gods. He's dornish." Alicent immediately said.
"I was hoping to ask for the Princess's favor," said Criston. At this, Baelon concealed his jealousy behind a mask of casual indifference, his smile constantly hiding the envy that simmered beneath the surface.
Rhaenyra tossed a wreath down to him. "I wish you luck, Ser Criston."
"Princess." Criston left and Rhaenyra smiled.
Baelon looked at her and defeat emerged all over his body. He heard footsteps behind him and saw Otto arrive and whisper something to Lyonel Strong's ear. Lyonel leaned over Lyman as Otto whispered the same thing to Corlys. The members of the small council leave as other assembled nobles get up and watch.
Prince Baelon's stomach dropped and his heartbeat seemed to be slowly decreasing as the worst thing he could think of came into his mind and was eating him alive.
He looked over at Rhaenyra again, who was looking over disassociating from the world. The wind was blowing both of their hairs and Alicent made eye contact with Baelon while playing with her fingers.
Little did he know...what he felt was a reality at that moment and a funeral was going to take place the very next day.