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87 AC

The hauntingly sound of the bells was echoing through the almost empty streets of King's Landing, a sound that meant only one thing: the royal house had been struck by yet another tragedy, the unexpected death of the young princess Viserra Targaryen.

Queen Alysanne locked herself in her sumptuous royal apartments surrounded only by the presence of her ladies in waiting, seeking solitude while being consumed by the guilt, it had been her decisions that had unknowingly caused the death of her young daughter, it had been her who had pushed her own daughter into a betrothal to the borders of the North - far from her home - with a man twice her age for pure political strategy.

Alysanne was inconsolable, in the span of just five years the gods had taken from her three of her daughters: Daella, Alyssa and Viserra, the Queen felt powerless - empty - and at the end of the day she realized that her grief was way stronger than her own pride, so that lacerating pain she was experiencing had pushed her to approach her husband King Jaehaerys on a thorny subject for them: Saera issue.

In approaching her husband Alysanne had brought with her Septon Barth who had spoken of the virtues of forgiveness and the healing properties of time, only when Barth had finished did Alysanne mention Saera’s name.

"Please" she begged the king "it is time to bring her home, she has been punished enough, she is our daughter".

But Jaehaerys would not be moved "she is a lyseni whore" the King had retorted "she opened her legs for half my court, threw an old woman down the steps, and tried to steal a dragon, what more do you require? have you given any thought as to how she got to Lys? she had no coin, how do think she paid for her passage?"

The Queen cringed at the harshness of her husband words but still she would not yield "if you don’t want to bring Saera home for love of her bring her home for love of me, i need her"

"You need her as a Dornishman needs a pit viper” Jaehaerys shouted "i am sorry but King’s Landing has sufficient whores, i do not wish to hear her name again" with those words, he rose to leave but at the door he halted and turned back "We have been together since we were children, i know you as well as you know me, right now you are thinking that you do not need my leave to bring her home, that you can take Silverwing and fly to Lys yourself, what would you do then, visit her in her pleasure garden? do you imagine she will fly into your arms and beg forgiveness? she is more like to slap your face, and what will the Lyseni do, if you try and make off with one of their whores? she has value to them! how much do you think it costs to lay with a Targaryen princess? at best they will demand a ransom for her, at worst they may decide to keep you too. what will you do then, shout for Silverwing to burn their city down? would you have me send Aemon and Baelon with an army, to see if they can prise her free? you want her, yes, i hear you, you need her ... but she does not need you, or me, or Westeros, she is dead, bury her".

92 AC

It was in the year 92 AC after the many tragedies that had stricken the Targaryen family and after the various losses that had been faced that the heart of Queen Alysanne would've started to heal with the unexpected arrival of a little prince that owned Targaryen blood.

In 87 AC Alysanne had shamelessly begged for the help of her own husband to bring home their wayward daughter "Saera" she had tried to leverage with arguments such as the importance of the forgiveness and the healing that can come from it but the King had been unmoved on his stance and had closed the subject rather swiftly, the Queen had felt wounded by his harshness and had never really moved on but in 92 AC with the tragic death of her son Aemon the Gods had finally decided to be merciful and generous.

At the gates of the Red Keep's an overseas entourage had made it’s presence known, requesting an audience with their majesties the King and Queen, the subject: a Targaryen prince.

When the bold and rather stranger request had been brought at the attention of the majesties there had been two stark reactions, King Jaehaerys had been very reluctant and had stated in a harsh tone that he wouldn’t have lended his own person in this poorly scripted pantomime meanwhile Queen Alysanne that was still recovering from the loss of her eldest son and heir had shown herself more open and had confidentially stated that she would’ve met the entourage and would’ve ascertained the truthfulness of the prince identity.

Therefore a child of barely five years of age had been presented to her presence, a kid full of fine features, lean and with flawless white skin, the short and curly dark brown hair were a perfect match with the color of his eyes, a dark purple, for the occasion the boy was wearing the indistinct colors of the royal house: black and red, what stood out to the eye were the rich fabrics that were made of the garments, even though he was still a young lad Alysanne had noticed that the boy was wearing jewelry made of gold.

"Your Grace, i introduce to your presence, your grandson Prince Jaehaerys Targaryen, the son of Princess Saera Targaryen" a girl with caramel skin and deep black eyes had stated.

Alysanne would have liked to retort that she wouldn’t have needed any formal introduction to recognize that the kid that had been brought at her attention was her grandson, if someone would’ve replaced the dark brown locks with golden-silver ones, the child would’ve been the male copy of her firstborn, her daughter Daenerys Targaryen, the one who should have been Queen and heir in her opinion, a daughter who had been taken away from her unjustly and way too soon, in him she saw even a pinch of her Viserra beauty, it was unmistakably clear that the child had inherited at least the striking features of the dragon dynasty.

With slow strides she had approached the boy  - her grandson - , she had crouched on her knees to observe him from a short distance, even if he was still a child to Alysanne hadn’t escaped the impeccable posture he owned or the way he had perfectly bowed in reverie to her presence, Alysanne had not resisted the urge and with the pads of her right hand had started to trace the child's face.

She would have liked to burst in a boisterous laugh, it was into the character of her rebellious daughter Saera to give birth to a son, a son with a nameless and faceless father, a bastard son indeed to whom she had gifted her father's name just to spite him, she had even gone so far to give him the Targaryen name, making him a prince.

Alysanne, overcome by nostalgia and grief, in a swift movement had abandoned the child's face and had tightly held him in her arms, she would have head her an hard work to do with her brother-husband but she silently swore to herself that she would have kept that child and would have raised him as her own, as a true prince of house Targaryen.

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92 AC

To say that Jaehaerys had taken the presence of Saera's son at his own court with a peaceful and serene spirit was an understatement, the King had let his wife act undisturbed for a couple of days waiting impatiently for the moment when she would’ve come to her senses and would’ve taken the right decision but woefully nothing of that had happened and so he had found himself forced to summon her to his royal apartments.

"How much longer will we be forced to host this child?" Jaehaerys had bluntly asked without mincing words once his wife had attended the private meeting.

"We are not hosting anyone, the child is not a stranger at all, he is a member of our family, he will live here with us in this castle and i will personally take care of his education" Alysanne had replied while looking at the delicacies present on the tea table.

"My dear i understand that you are trying to fill the void in your heart but this child is not a gift from the Gods but rather a curse. Why do you think Saera sent him here to King’s Landing, to our house if not to vex us once again with her antics?" The King had spitefully questioned then he had added "I think i have been generous enough towards Saera’s bastard, call that kind of nanny or one of the Unsullied sent here with the child from that whore of your daughter and tell them to pack up all the child belongings because the boy will return home where he belongs with his own mother".

Alysanne had entered into her husband's apartments with her barriers down, she had tried to be friendly and had also taken their problems and had hidden them like dust under the carpet but her husband's crudeness had made her snap.

"How can you talk like that about your own grandson without even trying to know him, you refused even to look at him, you avoided his presence like people avoid plagues, you limited yourself to receive information about his person through our advisors while you sat idly in this very room or on the iron throne like a coward, I will not let this child go because you hold a grudge against our daughter, we have made too many mistakes and we have already lost enough offspring." Alysanne had coldly stated.

"I lost my firstborn Aegon three days after giving birth to him, I lost my Daenerys at the tender age of six to a plague, my fragile Daella died in childbirth because she was not old and strong enough to face a pregnancy, all because you forced her to find a husband, what harm would it have done for her to stay a little girl for another year or two or ten?.

Then I lost yet another daughter in a birthing bed, my Alyssa, who took with her even the son that she had given birth to, Viserra died alone in the dead of night in an dirty alley of King's Landing because she wanted to taste a tiny piece of freedom before being chained to a man twice her age, far away from her own home and family because apparently political allies were way important than her, Aemon died in battle slayed by a myrish crossbow.

I lost a daughter to the faith and another one because she tasted a bit too much the flavor of freedom for then having it cruelly snatched away from her, the relationships with our granddaughter Rhaenys and her husband Corley got strained the moment you decided to name Baelon Prince of Dragonstone instead of Aemon's own daughter because she was a woman." Alysanne had poured out onto her husband all the resentment and frustration that she had harbored in all those years, not caring at all about the good intentions with which she had come "I will keep this child at court whether you like it or not".

"Baelon as heir to the throne was a thoughtful decision and was taken in agreement with the small council, Aegon the conqueror himself has been the first Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and not his own sister Visenya who was the eldest, I myself took Maegor's place as King and not our own elder sister Rhaena." Jaehaerys had retorted, setting aside the subject of his estranged grandson for a moment.

"A ruler needs a good head and a true heart, a cock is not essential. If your Grace truly believes that women lack the wit to rule, plainly you have no further need of me." The relationship with her husband had been soured for far too long and Alysanne was tired of pretending that everything was fine "I do not need your permission to raise my own grandson, I am still the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms and I possess a thinking mind, make an edict where you legitimize and claim the child as a prince of house Targaryen, if you do not do as requested I swear to the gods that upon your death I will ask our son Baelon, the heir to the throne to do so, I am sure that he will be more than happy to oblige to his own mother's wish and more than ready to not condemn a child for the crimes committed by his mother".

After that rather heated parley Alysanne had taken her grandson on the back of her dragon Silver Wings and had moved to Dragonstone, the stay on the island would last a whole long two years where the relationship with her husband - brother would worsen day after day for the lack of communication, the only positive note had been that Jaehaerys perhaps in good faith or maybe knowing his wife's stubbornness had legitimized and recognized in the eyes of the Seven Kingdom his grandson Jaehaerys as a prince of house Targaryen.

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Alyssanne had spent the two years away from King's Landing and from her husband presence in raising and educating her grandson in order to make him a prince worthy of their house name.

The main quality that every respectable prince who bears the Targaryen name needs to possess is the knowledge of the High Valyrian as well (or even better) as they knew the common tongue of the Andals, the Targaryens were proud of their descent from Old Valyria and from generation to generation the knowledge of High Valyrian had been passed down from children to children, Alysanne wouldn’t haven’t hired any maester to teach her grandson their family tongue, she would’ve been his teacher just as her elder sister Rhaena had been for her and their siblings.

During those lessons Alysanne had realized two truths: 

1. The child was very well versed at learning languages, Jaehaerys was like a sponge, he absorbed everything that was explained to him and was able to learn and put it into practice rather quickly.
2. That her grandson already possessed a good level of knowledge of the Valyrian language and not only.

Daena (the foreign nanny who had accompanied him together with the group of Unsullied) had explained to the Queen that Princess Saera had spent entire days under the sun of Volantis while passing on her knowledge of languages ​​to her son.

"The princess was very good with her son, she loved him dearly and separating herself from his own presence has been a rather painful and very difficult decision to take." Deana had explained one morning while Jaehaerys was playing with dragons wooden figures "If she took this decision it's because she knew that her son was not a normal prince, he owns excellent qualities, he is able to quickly learn the notions that are taught to him, he is an intelligent child.
Saera knew that in Westeros under your tutelage he could blossom even more." the foreign nanny had explained with a hint of a smile.

Another quality for a Targaryen Prince was to learn the art of the sword fighting because every prince of house targaryen that was respected had to be able to lead men in battle, for obvious reasons Alysanne had entrusted these type of lesson to Ser Ryam Redwyne, a knight of the King's guard, who was considered one of the greatest knights, well accomplished at sword and lace.

If Jaehaerys had shown good faith and a wide dedication to the study in general and to the learning of languages, to the lesson of Ser Ryam that was trying to teach him the basics of the art of the sword he had been rather capricious.

To Alysanne relief Ser Ryam had shown much patience with Jae who would often skip his lessons to spend a day bathing in waters that surrounded the island or while playing on the clean sand or running through the castle corridors cheering up the servants' day with shouts and joyful laughters.

Ser Ryam had stated with confidence "To not Worrry" to Queen Alysanne, it was normal for the child Prince to react in that way, he was still a small child that desired nothing but to play and if many children in Westeros were hypnotized by the knights since an early age, Jaehaerys had not grown up in their lands, he had conducted a rather different life until today and had received a different upbringing, he just had to get used to the change.

As time went by Ser Ryam had managed to build a relationship made of trust with the Prince and had won his undivided attention upon the art of the sword (The knight had communicated to the Queen that he would’ve started with sword lessons and that when the time would’ve come maybe in a couple of years, it would’ve been his duty to teach the prince the use of the lance as well, a skill that would’ve been needed for the tourneys jousting).

If Alysanne had been harsh towards her daughter Saera every time she had caused some type of trouble around the castle with her grandson she had been very indulgent, the little prince was very intelligent and had learned in no time to charm the servants with his lively ways as well as his own grandmother.

Another activity that the prince had had to learn (the activity that had been mostly appreciated by her grandson) had been the skill of riding horses, he would’ve started his learning by riding a pony and then when the prince would’ve grew up he would’ve practiced with warhorses.

Another quality that a prince had to possess was not only the knowledge of how to entertain and charming his guests with alluring conversation or by displaying the good manners he owned  but he had to know the art of dancing to delight the young maid with it to the feasts, Alysanne had hired a teacher for that feat (She had considered herself far too old for this kind of lessons and would’ve gotten tired very easily) but Jaehaerys had not shown himself very enthusiastic about those lessons wearing a pout every time he spotted his teacher calling him to the ballroom.

It was true that Alysanne was trying to mold Jaehaerys into a model prince (the main reason was to spite her husband, showing him how worthy Jae was of their name and status and how much he had lost by disliking him as a grandson) but what had delighted Alysanne the most was the bond that had been formed between grandson and grandmother which had turned in the years more like a mother-son bond.

Alysanne was still burned by the death that had struck their house, she had lost so many children in a short period that life had seemed almost nothing to her at one point until the gods had graced her with the arrival of that unknown grandson.

At first it had been difficult to create a bond with the child, he was far too attached to his mother, almost hoping that Saera would’ve come back to fetch him and taking him home (Alysanne had shared the same thought but as a fear), then with the days the wind had changed and Jaehaerys had opened up, they had started by small steps, between a childhood story about his mother or a story about their ancestors, then there had been the first hugs, the first pecks on the cheeks or forehead and then the absolute trust and support that Jaehaerys had given to his grandmother.

In 93 AC the presence of the prince had been made known to the population of the Seven Kingdoms (the name of Jaehaerys and his presence were well known and talked through the Seven Kingdoms but no one had wanted to believe the presence of Saera's son at court thinking that it was a poorly joke or a fake news) when Queen Alysanne had attended the wedding of her grandson Viserys who had been promised to the offspring of her daughter Daella, the sweet Aemma.

The wedding would have been celebrated at Dragonstone where Alysanne and her grandson were already residing, for the occasion her son Baelon had relegated the honors of the organizing celebration in the hands of his mother.

Aemma her granddaughter and future bride had been hosted in the castle together with the presence of her two older half-sisters: Elys and Amanda.

Alysanne remembers that Daella's marriage to Rodrick Arryn had not been looked upon favorably by Elys, in fact she remember that Elys relationship with Daella had been rather bitter and distant but the bond with her half-sister Aemma had seemed different, in a positive way unlike Amanda who had forged a close bond either with Daella and with Aemma.

Alysanne had tried to involve the young Aemma in most of the marriage decisions as an excuse to spend time with her - her granddaughter reminded her so much of that daughter she had lost years ago -.

Aemma had shown herself very enamored by Jaehaerys presence and when she had not been busy in spending her time with Queen Alysanne or with her own half-sisters between duties and duty pleasantries, she had let herself be delighted by the presence of the little prince.

The Queen had seen them engaged in various activities such as running on the clear sands of Dragonstone, occasionally occupied in watching the dragons dancing in the clear skies, in the diligent researching of the most particular shaped shells (Alysanne would later discover that Jaehaerys with Deana's help had handmade a necklace filled with the same shells that the two had founded to gift it to Aemma as a present for her wedding) or while they chatted non-stop while looking at the stars.

It was those small moments that had made Alysanne realizing that Aemma was a child as well, a child forced to grow up quite quickly and pushed into becoming a well respected woman, those moments had brought her back to a few years prior and had made her realize with horror the sad similarity that Aemma and Daella shared, just a mother and a daughter, the Queen prayed that the ending wouldn’t haven’t been the same.

The wedding had not been lavish but not modest either, many important houses had attended it including that of his granddaughter Rhaenys that had shown to the celebration with a visible swollen belly (Rhaenys had explained to her grandmother that she was due the date) accompanied by her Lord husband Corlys who had not yet overcome the displeasure caused by the King for the succession but luckily the animosity had been put aside for the sake of the newlyweds and partly because the king had not been present at the event.

Many had attended the wedding not only for the celebration of the marriage between the two young lovers but also driven by the mere curiosity of catching a glimpse of Princess Saera's son, during the banquet many had carefully observed the boy with a critical eye, observing and whispering on his every single movement, many had pushed their daughters to dance with the young prince, Jaehaerys had been quite displeased with that idea but the notions that his grandmother had induced to him about the high nobility had made him hide it under a forced smile.

Jaehaerys had been forced to entertain many of the little ladies present at the wedding (daughters of very important families his grandmother had pointed out) with empty conversations and too many dances that he could hardly feel his feet and his tongue anymore. 

He had managed to escape by their clutches when he had invited the bride Aemma (that he considered almost as an older sister) to dance together a way to celebrate her wedding or when he had made the acquaintance of princess Rhaenys with her giant belly, she had been kind enough to let him touch it and when he had placed his hand on her belly he had felt the baby kick.

The wedding of Aemmma and Viserys had not only been a celebration of the two newlyweds or a political alliance but it had also been a means for the Seven Kingdoms to get to know Prince Jaehaerys and a means for Alysanne to personally introduce the new member of their house to the members of the family finally having almost all of them gathered in one place: There had been the groom Viserys and obviously the presence of his father Baelon and that of his brother Daemon, the presence of Rhaenys accompanied by her Lord husband Corlys, the presence of Aemma the bride and daughter of the deceased Daella and the presence of her young daughter Gael, Alysanne had been very shrewd and had played the games with cunningness.

She had heard many Lords and Ladies singing the praises of the prince son of Saera and it had been even more of a success to have officially introduced him to the family, somehow everyone had been captured and charmed by the intelligence and the beauty of the little prince, Alysanne couldn’t have been more than satisfied.

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Maegelle had arrived on the outskirts of Dragonstone a couple of days ago while wearing a modest and lifeless greyish dress with a veil covering her head, carrying a simple bag, "The essentials to survive a couple of days on the island." as she would call it.

The island of Dragonstone had become the home of the newlywed: Aemma and Viserys, sometimes had been the home to the Crown Prince Baelon and of his second son Daemon but mostly and unofficially had become the residence of Queen Alysanne and her grandson Prince Jaehaerys.

Maegelle had learned of the new "quarrel" from her father who had sent her a missive where he had meticulously explained that the relationship with his sister-wife had deteriorated for two reasons: 

1. The first reason had been the decision of King Jaehaerys to proclaim his son Baelon as heir overriding the "right" of his granddaughter and only living heir of the deceased Aemon Targaryen (the previous heir of the crown) who had died in battle;
2. The second one’s had been the arrival of Saera's bastard son, a grandson to whom Alysanne had clung after the various losses.

Maegelle had been welcomed with kindness, she had expressed her good wishes to the newlyweds but she had not glimpsed their presence a lot except for those rare occasions in which they had crossed paths at breakfast or dinner or when Viserys and Aemma had entertained Prince Jaehaerys while playing with him on the clear sands that surrounded the castle.

Her mother Queen Alysanne knew the reason that was concealed behind the rather unexpected arrival of her pious daughter on the shores of the island and refused to address the subject, her mother had silently made her known that if they would’ve addressed the subject they would have done it in her own time and terms and so Maegelle had found herself stuck on the family island for more days than expected, every time she had tried to seek for her mother she had found her either busy or in company.

In those long days Maegelle had been able to make the acquaintance of her nephew, at first she had discreetly observed with her own eyes the son of her rebellious sister from afar, a son that had been born from an unknown figure and who unknowingly had insinuated himself into the crack already present in the relationship of her parents causing the irreparable rupture.

If she had not known the identity of the child in advance she would’ve never been able to point out that the child had come out of the womb of her sister Saera -obviously if we were talking about the aesthetic side- if Maegelle would've glimpsed him in the streets of King's Landing or simply while walking between the walls of some castle without knowing his identity she would have sworn that the child belonged to her deceased sister Viserra.

But Maegelle had had the opportunity to observe the child interacting with the variety of people that surrounded him, starting from his grandmother (who possessed the highest status) to the servants of Dragonstone, if on the aesthetic side Jaehaerys had inherited little or nothing from his mother, the character had been all her.

There was only a difference between mother and son, if her sister Saera had managed to enchant their Kingly father with her bewitching words and antics and had ensnared a multitude of wealthy Lord’s with her mesmerizing presence in contrast she had built in the years a rather hostile relationship with her own siblings and with her own mother as well in stark contrast there was Jaehaerys, her son, even though he had inherited his mother's character, unlike her, he had managed to enchant servants and family alike, he had the whole family (a not only) wrapped around his little finger, even Maegelle had not been immune to his charm, the only person that had seemed immune to his enchanting spell had been her father, King Jaehaerys I.

In the missive that she had received, her father had described the child as a manipulative creature, a spoiled child and he had defined Jaehaerys as "That child is a catastrophe that has befallen upon the head of our family, a thunder into the clear sky, a misfortune, a divine punishment for the sins of our family, an arduous test that the gods had send upon the earth to test his virtue of patience, to temper him even in his advanced age, the presence of the child in the castle, in his own house, was almost worse than a plague."

So when Maegelle had seen the child prince for the first time had been almost startled when she had seen the aspect of a normal child not knowing what exactly to expect after his father's harsh words -a child who fitted perfectly into the canons of "normality" tied to their family, of course- she had not seen any manipulative or bad behavior, she had only seen a child who behaved as such.

So in the end she had come to the conclusion that her father was still burned by the quarrel that had happened with his sister Saera years ago, he had not been able to overcome it and so nowadays he was taking out his frustration on her son, a son who was blameless except for the fact that he had been born from a daughter who had been rebellious and who had challenged and undermined his authority in an open way.

Maegelle had tried for the millionth time to seek a confrontation with her dear mother but had failed miserably in the attempt, so she had found herself wandering on the beaches of dragonstone, trying to inhale a fresh air, sea air, when she had spotted a small figure peeking from the sea.

"Jaehaerys" the name had come out almost unbidden from her lips, low like a whisper "Jaehaerys, what are you doing in the water dressed?" She had then questioned in a higher tone to be heard by the child who was swimming into the sea.

Jaehaerys had jumped at the sound of her pitched voice almost scared, then he had looked at her and had wore a smile "Aunt Maegelle" he had shouted back while waving in her direction with his tiny hands.

Maegelle had reached him with great strides and had pulled him out of the water, the child had wet hair and clothes, she had checked the surroundings for a towel or for the presence of a servant who was surveilling the prince but had found none, even if it was a sunny day the wind had risen and if Jaehaerys would’ve remained in that state under the cold currents he would’ve surely caught a nasty cold.

Maegelle had taken off the cloak she had worn in the morning for the occasion and had wrapped it around the child's trembling figure, covering his head too "What are you doing here alone, your grandmother knows you are here ?"

The child's cheeks had turned into a shade of pink and for a moment he had looked away as if he had been caught red-handed doing something he shouldn't have done "You ran away" Maegaelle had then stated with a chuckle.

"How do you know?" Jaehaerys had asked in bafflement "At your age, your mother did the same, as did your aunt Viserra and many of my siblings" she had stated reassuringly, then had continued "From what or who were you running from ?" She had then questioned with newfound interest "From my dance lesson," he had answered with a pout "Grandma keeps organizing these boring lessons because she says that a charming prince must know how to entertain a lady of good family in a ballroom but i don't want to dance at these events, last time many of them stepped on my feet’s and annoyed me with silly conversations but grandma insists and i do it to make her happy" he had recounted with an air of defeat.

"I see, but now let’s go back to the castle, you have to dry yourself and change your clothes or you’ll catch a cold." Maegelle had stated "Next time you will want to escape from these lessons instead of coming to the beach alone come to find me and together we will find a much more interesting activity, deal?" She had proposed as she held out her hand to seal the deal "Deal, but you must promise that it will remain our secret" the little prince had bargained with a solemn look as he reached her hand, Maegelle had accomplished.

Then she had accompanied Jaehaerys inside the castle walls, when they had entered the hall she had called the attention of two servants who were passing in the corridor and had ordered them to give the prince a hot bath and dry clothes, the two girls had nodded and had accompanied the prince to the royal apartments.

Just in that moment his mother Alysanne had made her appearance known "Was that Jaehaerys?" She had asked in puzzlement observing the figure of the little prince who was being accompanied through the corridors of the castle wearing a cloak that the Queen had never seen.

"Yes mother but don't worry he's fine. It’s a beautiful day so we took advantage of it and we spent the morning together at the beach but you know better than me how children are, between a walk and a prolific conversation he dived into the sea" Maegelle had calmly explained trying to not alarming her mother but her reaction had made her realize that this was most likely not the first time it had happened.

"I should go check on him," Alysanne had affirmed while she began to walk away, "Mother he is fine and is in great hands, i think it’s time to address the elephant in the room."

"Father is truly sorry, mother," Maegelle had tried to explain, "He wrote to me because he misses you terribly, he wants to mend your strained relationship."

Her mother had loudly scoffed at her sentence "He misses me? I don’t think your father is capable of feeling such emotions."

"You should return to King’s Landing, it’s not fitting for you status to reside on Dragonstone," Maegelle had tried to change the subject, she had realized that it wouldn’t haven’t given her nothing good to explain to her mother how sorry her father felt.

"I have no intention of returning to a place where my presence is not well-perceived or the one of my grandson," Alysanne had angrily shouted "Your father and I have rather conflicting ideas on a lot of things and I’m rather tired of his commanding attitude."

"Mother I am not asking you to agree with father’s decisions but it is not fitting for you to stay here, your home is in King’s Landing, the populace needs their Queen. The small-folks has bestowed upon you the title of "The good Queen" and on father the title of "The conciliator King" but I see none of that, all I see before my own eyes are squabbling children fighting just to gain the upper hand" Maegelle had stated with harshness, exhausted by the poorly behavior of their parents "You will return to King’s Landing, this is Baelon’s residence, he has been kind enough in hosting you and his nephew Jaehaerys but things have changed since then. His son and heir got married to the lovely Aemma and I saw how the couple is struggling to get to know each other even in a more intimate way because the castle is populated by a child who as cute as he may be is prone to cause some type of mischief and by a Queen who loves to be the householder instead of a simple guest or how Baelon who it is true resides in the Red Keep’s is unable to spend a peaceful day in his own castle with the presence of his sons, how do you think he can do it if this very castle is overpopulated".

His mother had looked at her, she knew that what Maegelle was telling her was the burning truth but it was hard to admit it.

"I will return to King’s Landing but i want you to deliver a message to your father, tell him that i still think that the heir should have been Rhaenys and not Baelon, that a sex does not express the appropriateness in sitting on a throne made of swords and warn him that if he will try to play any dirty tricks on Jaehaerys I will take the child on Silverwings back and i will fly away from Westeros, that I will disappear under Saera protection and i will raise the child in the free cities and be damned the consequences of it all." Alysanne had spoke it as her final sentence.

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"During my stay in Dragonstone i have noticed that Jaehaerys shares a immense pleasure in being in contact with the sea and the immaculate sand" Maegelle had commented out loud while her violet eyes observed the prince that was busy in the searching of shells and precious objects to collection. The day of Maegelle departure from their family island had arrived, the boat was being prepared and equipped for facing the long sea voyage that would’ve taken her to her final destination: King's Landing, as the preparations took shape she found exchanging a last conversation with her mother.

"I think it reminds him of home. I'm more than certain that he associates this place with his mother" Alysanne had stated with melancholic eyes "He enjoys playing on these beaches as much as watching the dragons swirling around or flying with me on SilverWing back".

"What will you do about that?" Maegelle had then inquired with curiousity "Saera wanted a dragon, in fact she was caught while she tried to steal one in the Dragon Pit in a futile attempt to escape from our father’s wrath".

"When we will get at home i will accompany Jaehaerys to the Dragon Pit myself, he has not had the opportunity to have a dragon egg placed in his cradle like my sister Rhaena did with me or like i did with you" Her mother had explained with wistfulness -It was no secret that every time Rhaena name, her mother’s sister, was brought up in a conversation her mother tone of voice would take a sadder turn-. "With the help of the Dragon Keepers we will find the appropriate dragon for Jaehaerys, perhaps an hatchling or a medium one’s".

"My Queen" the servant had exclaimed while bowing, then had acknowledged Maegelle presence "Septa Maegelle, the sailor wants to bring to your attention that the ship is almost ready to sail" the servant had made sure to inform her, she had nodded in assent.

"So this will be our last farewell ?" Her mother had asked with a poorly hidden melancholy in her eyes, the Queen had already lost many children and for the chronic Maegelle was not planning to die, she had just taken the decision to dedicate her life in trying to save the lives of the poor people, people that were poor enough to not have access to proper medical care but to her mother eyes was like taking part to yet another funeral of one of her children.

“I’m afraid so" Maegelle had replied with a fleeting smile, then she had hugged her mother for what would’ve been the last time.

"Behave" Maegelle had instructed while she had crouched down on her knees to reach the same height of Prince Jaehaerys, then with tenderness had reserved a caress on his face.

"This is for you, Aunt Maegelle, it will bring you good luck on your journey and in this way you will have something so you will not forget me" the prince had stated as he had handed her a shell.

Maegelle had taken it in her hands as if it had been a fragile object, she could have cried at that moment -she had really wanted to do it but had physically restrained herself- but she does not know for what exactly, perhaps she would have cried because that gesture was something pure, innocent and Maegelle would have prayed until her last breath as long as that purity would have been preserved and wouldn’t have been stained or infected by the greediness and the malices that would have surrounded him in the Red Keep. Or maybe she would have wanted to cry because that small gesture had made her remember her own siblings, of her childhood, of her twin sister Daella, that innocent soul that had tried to clung first to her twin sister Maegelle and only afterwards to their mother to gain a bit of strength to face the brutal world into which their father had trusted her but Maegelle had been detached and had abandoned her to her horrible fate.

"This is for you, it will protect you from any harm" Maegelle had stated as she had taken off the seven-pointed star from her neck and had handed it in the small hands of the prince who had admired it with solemnity.

The prince then had smiled -a bright one- and had hugged her in farewell, Maegelle will remember that stay at Dragonstone until the end of her days, in the company of her "elusive" mother and with her "gentle" nephew, Maegelle spent the whole voyage towards King’s Landing while clutching in her hands the shell that had been gifted to her.

Queen Alysanne had entrusted the prince’s care to Daena as she was busy preparing for the imminent journey towards home and nothing and no one could’ve prepared her for the shook she would’ve received that day.

Jaehaerys loved to watch the dragons flying in the clear sky above Dragonstone, as they played with the waters leaving trails behind as their long tails touched the crystalline surface, or while they circled the castle showing off their breathtakingly wings or while they danced among themselves.

He had mostly seen Silverwing -his grandmother’s mount- and had been lucky enough to glimpse once or twice the massive and old dragon that his cousin Viserys had claimed for himself, the dragon that had once belonged to the conqueror himself, a couple of times he had even glimpsed his uncle Baelon’s dragon Vhagar when he had come to visit them.

He remembers with great pleasure that he had also been able to see the large red wings that belonged to Meleys -the dragon of his cousin Rhaenys who had been heavily pregnant at Viserys wedding- in fact her cousin had caught Jaehaerys while admiring the dragon doing acrobatics in the air and with a sweet voice had told him while holding her large belly in her hands "If I hadn't been so pregnant I would have made you climb on her back for a ride", Jaehaerys had appreciated it.

In fact, the prince was no stranger to dragons or about the feeling of flying one, the first time he had ridden on one of them had been two years ago when his grandmother, after a furious quarrel with the one who should be his grandfather, had made him wear a cloak and with a regal bearing had led him to the dragons' lair where Silver Wings had been prepared for their arrival. He remembers being overwhelmed by emotions -during his journey from the free cities to Westeros from the ship he had been able to glimpse them from afar but having one in front of him in the flesh had been clearly a different experience- after that time his grandmother had invited him several times on the back of silver wings and he had been more than happy.

He had also not been a stranger to dragons even when he had resided in Volantis, his childhood home because his mother Saera had recounted to him plenty of stories about their majesty, how she had bravely tried to claim one for herself but had been stopped and forbidden by her parents, then one day when Jaehaerys had turned four his mother had called him to her opulent private chambers.

"Come in" his mother had stated in a warm voice, a voice she reserved only to him and never for anyone else "I want to show you something".

Jaehaerys would’ve never disobeyed a request made directly by his mother and curiosity had taken over him, his mother that day had been wearing a dress made of purple silk that was wrapped gently around her body as if it were a second skin, the gold jewels stood out under the sunlight of Volantis as well as the tiara she wore in her silver hair and Jaehaerys had noticed that she was looking at something that was laid out on the table.

When he had approached the table his mother had beckoned him to get closer, when he had done so his eyes had immediately caught the shape of a box made of wood with elaborated carvings on each sides, then under his curious eyes his mother had opened it with ease and from that refined box three dragon eggs had come out. His mother had explained that those eggs had once belonged to their family, that they had been stolen by Elissa Farman, a noblewoman and lover of Princess Rhaena Targaryen, her late aunt.

He remembers looking at them with admiration, then he had looked at his mother and had silently asked with his eyes if he was allowed to touch them. His mother had nodded and had moved slightly aside to give him more space, he had taken his time and had stopped a couple of seconds to look at the colors of the three eggs placed in front of him - black, green, and gold - then with a trembling hands he then touched the egg that was placed in the center, the green one, he felt their warmth under his skin and had looked at them reverently.

"I bought them for you" His mother had asserted with a bright smile, then she had stroked his curls in a motherly way, that sweet side of hers was dedicated only to him and Jaehaerys preened under it, preserving it with jealousness "They are your legacy" his mother had then uttered before leaving a kiss on the crown of his head.

He remembers the day of his departure, when his mother had steered them on one of the many benches present in the gardens of one of their many residences and had made him swear to not tell to a single soul about it. She had made him swear to keep the secret because if anyone would’ve discovered about the eggs in Saera possession they would’ve stealed them and his mother had been adamant in telling that those eggs were intended for Jaehaerys only, that they were his inheritance and no one should have taken them away from him.

His grandmother that day had been busy with the preparations for their journey to "Home" and so she had left him in the hands of Daena who had sat on a cloth that had been spread out on the white sand while with skilled hands she sewed something in total silence, Aemma and Viserys were busy with court duties and his aunt Maegelle had left, Jaehaerys was bored and alone.

Boredom was then replaced by excitement when the bulk of a black dragon had appeared in the clear and cloudless skies of dragonstone , Jaehaerys had assumed from the color and size that it was Viserys' dragon but when the dragon had landed a few meters away from him and Daena he had been struck by a thunderbolt when he had recognized the wild dragon his grandmother had warned him about.

"Wild dragons were not made to be ridden, especially this dragon" his grandmother had pointed to the dragon drawn on one of the tomes in the library "His name is Cannibal, if you ever cross his path run away as fast as you can Jaehaerys because no one has ever come out alive to tell of their encounter with this dragon".

Jaehaerys had treasured that advice, Daena had not paid attention to it, one dragon was as good as another, she was not very educated about them, she only knew that the one with the silver finishings belonged to Queen Rhaella and that was apparently enough for her as a notion.

Jaehaerys had looked around contemplating the various escape routes that also included saving Daena but while his mind was contemplating everything the dragon's head had snapped towards his direction nailing him to the ground with its green eyes that resembled wildfire.

He would have liked to follow the advice that had been given to him by his grandmother but inside himself he had felt something, he did not know exactly what, he hadn’t had enough means at his disposal to interpret it all, a key to understanding, he had nothing. All he knew is that he felt something that pulled him to the imposing form of the threatening dragon and while he was contemplating all this, he had not even noticed that his body just like a magnet that searches for the magnet had approached dangerously close to the dragon's body.

If his grandmother or any other member of his family would have come out of the castle imposing doors and seen that scene Jaehaerys knows that they would have probably fainted on the spot or worse they would’ve died of heartbreak caused by the sheer fear. 

The prince felt on his face the hot breath that was coming out of the dragon's nostrils, he then had taken courage and had placed a trembling hand on the dragon's snout caressing it with slow and weighted movements, as if he were tending a spooked horse.

Jaehaerys was expecting a sharp movement or to be incinerated from dragonfire for that reckless gesture he had just made but the dragon had just looked at him with fierceness, judging him with his green eyes and then had slowly moved its head closer to his hand and Jaehaerys had continued to caress it feeling the heat that the black scales emanated.

He does not know exactly how much time had passed between one caress and another, minutes? maybe an hour? time seemed to have stopped, his eyes were glued to the dragon's head, when he felt the dragon scales shifting under his palm and to his great surprise he noticed that the dragon had lowered a winged shoulder.

At that gesture Jaehaerys had remained still, he had stared at the shoulder that had been laid out for him almost as an invitation and then without thinking, leaving behind his grandmother's warnings and his common sense he had climbed over the mighty wing until he had reached the back, once he had reached the top he had positioned himself astride and had clung with strength to the thorns that were coming out from the spine and in that moment almost as if Cannibal had sensed that the little prince that was sitting on his back had assumed a safe holding of his thorns, he had taken flight.

When a servant had broke with a face full of terror and with clothes crumpled from the race into the queen's apartments without respecting the protocol stating in a trembling voice "Your Majesty, the prince" Alysanne at that statement had immediately become alarmed and had replied with harshness "Speak! Prince Jaehaerys what? Is he okay?".

"Prince Jaehaerys climbed on the back of the cannibal and has disappeared" the servant had admitted with a crestfallen expression.

Queen Alysanne at those words had fainted from the terror, when she had recovered she had run towards her she-dragon to go in search of her grandson meanwhile chasing away bad thoughts like death that were taking shape in her head but when she was about to climb on the saddle she had seen the black dragon descending from the sky with graciousness Alysanne didn't know the dragon possesses and from his shoulder she had seen the glowing figure of Jaehaerys.

When Maegelle had arrived in King's Landing, more precisely in the Red Keep, the place where she had grown up and where her parents reigned supreme over the seven kingdoms, her brother Baelon had welcomed her with a worried face "Sister, I advise you to be careful, our father is in a bad mood after the news that came from Dragonstone early this morning".

Maegelle had nodded without prodding for more information, she knew that the news that had induced her father in that state were merely related to Prince Jaehaerys, she had walked with great strides in front of the doors of the throne room where her father was waiting for her arrival, the room was empty except for a few guards positioned here and there for the protection of the King and the presence of the King himself.

"Maegelle" her father had stated with a serious voice, then he had arisen from the throne and with cautiousness had descended the steps while being careful not to hurt himself with the sharp  pointing ends of the swords that were poking from one side or the other "I hope to hear good news from you, tell me that you have brought your mother to her senses beloved daughter".

"Father, this is exactly what I wanted to talk to you about," Maegelle had begun after bowing in reverence, "my trip to Dragonstone has been enlightening," but to her father’s satisfied face she had added, "but not in the way you hoped."

"No," the King had asserted with a mixture of disbelief and skepticism, "The plague has seduced you with its spells" he had then cruelly commented.

"If only for a moment -" her father had interrupted her speech in a hurry by shooting her a heated glare and then had spoken "That abomination claimed a dragon yesterday morning, and not just any dragon but a wild ones, the dragon named Cannibal, the situation itself would be rather ironic since the two seem to share a connection since they both are monsters for different reasons. That whore of a sister of yours sent him here to bond with a dragon and I am sure that I will soon receive news that dragon eggs have been stolen or worse that that demon has harmed Alysanne or worse Viserys and Aemma" he had then shouted overwhelmed by frustration.

"They call you the Conciliator King but I only see a mad King in front of me" Maegelle had countered with iciness, her tone had been so glacial that even the Wall would have paled in comparison, then she had not given her father the opportunity to counter back and had continued "If only you stopped for a moment and instead of thinking with the rancor that still plagues you since Saera’s disappearance and just met your grandson you would realize the great mistake you are making. That child is not at all a monster as you define him, much less a pawn in the perverse game that you and Saera are playing from leagues away, our house has been a bearer of monsters and I’m talking of the real ones and I can assure you that that child has nothing to do with them. If you do not stop in time you will end up at your bedside with no one at your side other than the remorse that will grip you" Maegelle had been harsh but she was tired of the obtuseness shown by her father.

"And I would like to remind you that it is not the rider who chooses the dragon, but the other way around, I'll leave you to think about it, father" she had then left the throne room with those words hoping that her father would’ve come to understand his mistakes and put aside that one-sided animosity that he was carrying on for no reason with a child.

Chapter Text

Alysanne loathed to admit it, but she was getting older, and she felt it in her bones. She knew that her time would come soon, and she was ready to face death with her chin held high. Two years after they returned to King's Landing, Alysanne suffered an accident. After a morning spent with her two grandchildren—Jaehaerys and Daemon—while flying together on the backs of their respective mounts, Alysanne slipped from the back of her she-dragon, breaking her hip. The court master bluntly told her that she wasn’t allowed to fly on her dragon ever again, that one wrong movement could be fatal. Alysanne bitterly cried in the privacy of her apartments; how could they ask her that?. She was afterwards informed that she had to use a cane to walk.

After that episode, the signs of "old age" became more and more apparent. Her hearing began to fail, leaving her unable to enjoy music or participate in discussions of the king's small council. Her memory also began to falter, leaving her unable to recall the names of all the new people at court.

Jaehaerys, her observant grandson, had picked up on all the signs and understood with a mere glance the embarrassment she felt when one of these episodes occurred. Then one day, when she had stammered out the wrong name of one of their vassals, he had exclaimed with ease, "This place is so crowded; lately, I can't even tell apart a servant from a lord." From that day on, he took the habit of walking alongside her, and when a lord or a lady appeared, he dropped hints for her to understand: "Lord Lannister, it's nice to see you," "Lord Manderly, how is your wife doing? I heard about the baby," and so on. Alysanne greatly appreciated it.

He was like a shadow, always present at her side, as was Gael. The two had bonded to the point of seeming thick as thieves; Gael had taken to calling the prince not "nephew" but as "valonqar". The court had scrunched up their noses at that, for it was neither productive nor befitting for a princess to behave in that way. But no one had dared to say a word on that matter; after all, who were they if not simple vassals? If neither the King nor the Queen corrected their own daughter, who were they to allow themselves to make such a gesture?

The truth was that Alysanne had been stunned by her husband's non-reaction. Perhaps he had done it to avoid angering Alysanne furthermore or perhaps he had understood that Jaehaerys's company worked miracles on their winter daughter. Perhaps he was also not ready to make a new mistake and be hated by yet another daughter.

Gael was called "princess" under the morning light, but behind her back, the people in hushed whispers called her "the weird princess." Her attachment to her mother's skirts and her childish attitude did not attract many suitors; her beauty apparently was not enough to overcome her strange behavior. All this was aggravated by the fact that her daughter did not like to stay for too long in crowded and noisy places. She did not like to talk to people she didn’t know—especially to those who looked at her with judgmental eyes, ready to mock her for her behavior that was considered out of the ordinary—and she didn’t like to be touched by strangers without her explicit consent. Jaehaerys, in such a short time, had turned into her safe place, becoming her confidant and her knight. The fiery glares that Jaehaerys sent to people when he understood that they were crossing the boundaries set by Gael, or when he heard someone judging the behavior of his "mandia," were enough to make them retreat. 

The thing that worried her the most (aside from Gael) was her grandson Jaehaerys's future. After her death, who would have taken care of him? Who would have assured her that her grandson would receive what was due to him? That he would hold a position at court? No one!

She knows that Baelon is fond of Prince Jaehaerys and that in the future, when he will ascend to the throne, he will not have the desire in his heart to chase his nephew away from the court. However, the fact remains that Baelon already has two sons—Viserys and Daemon—who have already given him a lot to do. Not to mention the political and royal duties he needs to attend to; he would not have the time to take care of yet another person.

Viserys and Aemma had been blessed with the birth of a baby girl they had named Rhaenyra. The populace had already named her "the realm's delight," but despite that, they still took time to care of Jaehaerys. Alysanne caught them while playing with him or while they entertained him with stories or gifts on many occasions. The incentive was that Jaehaerys and Rhaenyra, even if they shared a few years of age difference, had established an excellent relationship; the little girl ran after Saera's son with shining eyes.

Viserys had grown fond of Jaehaerys for a completely different reason. He had been blessed with the birth of a beautiful daughter whom he doted upon, but Aemma, just like her mother Daella, was not suited for pregnancy. In so few years, that poor soul had faced more miscarriages than she should have, and this was slowly breaking her heart. Viserys, on the other hand—it was no secret at all—ardently desired a son, and what better solution to soothe the pain of those losses than to grow fond of and create a father-son relationship with his cousin Jaehaerys?.

Alysanne knew in her heart that when the worst will come, Aemma and Viserys will take the prince under their wing and will raise him as a son alongside Rhaenyra.

Then there was her grandson Daemon—Baelon's youngest son—who, in 97 AC, had been married to a lady of the Vale, Lady Rhea Royce. It had been an arranged and rather forced marriage requested by his own father and grandfather. The marriage was not one of the happiest, and among the smallfolk as well as among the lords and ladies of the court, the word that the prince hadn’t honored the marriage by not practicing the marital duty he was bound to perform had spread immediately.

A large slice had dared to question the prince's virility, but the prince's not-so-undisguised visits to the various brothels on Silk Street had silenced them.

In the end, Daemon spent his time divided between King's Landing and Dragonstone. Not even once after the marriage had he been seen in the Vale. Many thought that he could have been a good father, considering the dynamic that had developed with Prince Jaehaerys. However, Alysanne knew that their relationship was more like that of an "annoying" older brother who liked to tease the younger one.

Every time Daemon stayed in the Red Keep, he took his time in teasing the young prince when he practiced his sword lessons—knowing very well that Prince Jaehaerys hated those lessons to a certain degree—pissing him off with mocking comments or easily knocking the swords from his hands a multitude of times. There were also the knowing glances they threw at each other when the two found themselves silently judging a particularly disliked lord or a mindless lady who was trying to court them. The banter turned into a daily affair, as did the races on their dragons. Daemon had also introduced Jaehaerys to the brothels. Alysanne had been outraged when she heard the news from a servant; maybe that had been the only time she had seen her grandson Daemon cowering in fear when she had lectured him. Jaehaerys took great pleasure in bringing up that topic to annoy him.

Then there was Jaehaerys—her brother-husband—who, after Maegelle's last visit, had cooled down his hatred. Alysanne had to give him credit for that; obviously, no connection had been created between the two—Jaehaerys still bore too much resentment towards Saera—but he had stopped calling Jaehaerys a plague or a demon. A couple of times, the King had even tried to start a polite conversation with his grandson, but never alone; there always had to be someone present in the room with them, acting as a buffer. That had been a silent rule that Alysanne didn’t know exactly who had imposed first.

But even though there were improvements, Alysanne is not sure that upon her passing, Jaehaerys would have been so kind-hearted and would keep his grandson in the castle, so Alysanne had to act somehow. She knows that upon her death, when her husband will discover her machinations, he will be furious, but it will be pointless.

Alysanne had turned to Ser Ryam; she had imposed the knight's discretion. She did not want anyone to find out what she was planning, at least not yet. The knight had assured her that he would use it; he would have done it for the loyalties he bore to his Queen.

"Ser Ryam, I want you to find knights for my grandson Jaehaerys," Alysanne explained, leaning on her cane for stability. "I know he is well protected. The prince himself possesses enough skills to defend himself in an unexpected attack. I know that my son Baelon, as well as my grandson Daemon, would go to great lengths to assure his safety. I also know that the Kingsguard keeps an eye on him. I know that the guards Saera sent to Westeros, the trained Unsullied, are enough for his protection. But he needs knights from Westeros," Alysanne pointed out.

"I want knights who possess skills in the art of combat and swordsmanship, preferably knights close enough to the age of the prince. I want my grandson to seek possible friendship and comrades in them—young knights who will be raised with the thought of loyalty towards their prince instilled in their being. I do not want knights from social-climber families such as the Lannisters or Tyrells; I do not want them to use the opportunity to act as spies for their families or to be able to sell my grandson to their highest bidder." Queen Alysanne explained with strictness, the lines of her soft face hardening for that serious occasion.

"My Queen, it will be done," the knight had stated after bowing his head in a form of respect.

A couple of days later, the knight had presented a small and mismatched group composed of four young knights who were completely different from each other in terms of physicality and ideals.

Chapter Text

The banquet to celebrate the 50th anniversary of King Jaehaerys' reign had been organized down to the smallest detail. At the high table, King Jaehaerys and Queen Alysanne were seated in the center. To Jaehaerys' right sat Baelon—the crown prince—followed by his son Viserys and his lady wife Aemma. On the Queen's side sat Prince Jaehaerys, Princess Gael, and Prince Daemon, who had just arrived without his wife in tow.

"Why don't you ask one of the young ladies to dance?" Alysanne suggested —or perhaps, as it had come out of her mouth, it looked more like she had commanded it— to her grandson to follow her advice.

Jaehaerys looked at her with wide eyes; the expression on his face screamed the word "traitor." Alysanne even heard Daemon's uncontained laughter. 

Jaehaerys had looked at her for a moment or two, perhaps hoping he had misheard or maybe thinking that his grandmother would have just taken pity and discarded that "absurd" proposal; then he had simply given up.

"As you wish, Grandmother." The title "Grandmother" had been emphasized on purpose.

Alysanne had watched the scene unfold before her attentive gaze. She had hoped that her grandson would have invited one of the Lannister's still unmarried ladies, a Tyrell, a Tully; it would’ve been a nice choice, even the young maid of the Hightower family. She certainly hadn’t expected to witness one of her grandson's tricks.

"Princess Gael, would you do me the honor of granting me this dance, the next one, and if it were possible, even the one after that?" Jaehaerys had asked, gently turning his body towards the Queen’s daughter, Gael. A well-defined grin was plastered on his face.

"I gladly accept your proposal, Prince Jaehaerys," her sweet daughter affirmed with a sly smile on her lips, seconding her grandson's maddening idea.

"Jaehaerys—" Alysanne tried to scold him, but the giggles coming from Gael when Jaehaerys held out his hand to lead her to the dance floor made her stop. How could she ruin one of those few carefree moments that her daughter allowed herself? Especially on those rare occasions when everyone would have the chance to watch and judge her?.

"Remind me again why I'm your favorite member of the whole family?" Gael jokingly teased while they engaged in their fourth or fifth ball. Jaehaerys had lost count.

"Because you're the only one in this wretched family who doesn't enjoy watching me suffer," Jaehaerys replied while lightly spinning Gael around, both of them giggling.

"Mom seems to be furious," the princess observed, looking over his shoulder.

"‘She'll get over it" had been Jaehaerys response. Gael had laughed faintly. "Why don't you make her happy and find yourself a lady to court? Not that you are out of shortage," Gael had asked out of curiosity. 

"As much as I love Grandma, the idea of throwing myself into courting an unknown and frivolous lady gives me no pleasure." "You know you'll have to get married sooner or later?" Gael had countered back, continuing to dance.

"Who knows, maybe I will not." 

"Let's make a deal," Jaehaerys had then proposed, full of confidence. "If in five years none of us have found a wife or husband who meets our standards, we'll get married."

Gael had widened her eyes in shock and had laughed. "What an absurd proposal."

"I find it ideal. We would be the most envied couple in the Seven Kingdoms. I wouldn't mind, and you would save me from many problems, such as dancing," Jaehaerys had replied. "Let me think about it... I think I'll accept," Gael had then uttered between giggles. Then her face turned into sheer panic, and she exclaimed, "Mother is coming here."

"Let's go," had been the curt reply Jaehaerys gave to Gael before squeezing her hand and looking around to find an accessible escape route for both of them through the rabble, one that wouldn't trigger a panic attack in Gael.

"Gael, Lord Lannister was wondering if he could have the honor of sharing a dance with you," Alysanne's ringing voice stated after leaning her entire body weight on her handcrafted cane. "Come with me, dear daughter; he is waiting for you."

Alysanne informed Gael, with her right arm extended, waiting for her daughter to intertwine her arm with hers, ready to lead her to the presence of the young Lannister, who was waiting at the outskirts of the ballroom, wearing ghastly colors and a snigger on his face.

Jaehaerys would’ve punched the shit out of that pompous lord if he had tried to do something unworthy toward Gael. The princess had implored him with her lilac eyes, silently begging him to intervene when a silvery voice interrupted the odd scenario.

"Prince Jaehaerys, I was wondering if I could have the honor of sharing a dance with you?" the melodious voice exclaimed politely. Jaehaerys turned toward the mysterious voice and saw a girl of his own age, slim and elegant, flaunting an elegant and composed posture like most of the ladies present in the room. What immediately caught the eye were her thick, long, wavy hair of a reddish color, styled for the occasion with what seemed to be a really expensive golden hairpin, with a green gem set in the center. Her bright hazel eyes exuded a fine intelligence hidden by naivety, her expression looked hesitant. Her pale skin blended perfectly with the pale blue dress she was wearing, which was full of embroidered golden details. Jaehaerys was about to refuse when his grandmother spoke up.

"My grandson will be honored to accept, won't you, Jaehaerys?" His grandmother had feigned asking while sporting a motherly smile.

"Of course, the pleasure will be all mine, Lady ..." Jaehaerys stated politely, wearing a polite smile. He left the sentence hanging, waiting for the girl to fill in, "Lady Alicent."

The music filled the great hall where the celebratory banquet was being held, the soft notes of the harp blended perfectly with the lute. The dance floor was populated by a mishmash of couples who were dancing to the rhythm of the music.

Jaehaerys had intertwined one of his hands with that of the red-haired girl who had asked him to dance, and the other one was resting on the girl's back. The girl was trying to make conversation, and Jaehaerys, in other circumstances —in circumstances where Gael had not been forced to dance with a presumptuous lord— would have at least feigned listening and would’ve participated out of politeness.

Alicent moved with grace, her heart beating erratically in her ribcage like a hammer. She had heard the countless gossip about the young prince's dancing skills, his ability to participate in any type of conversation without ever losing his composure, and how disarming his beauty was. Alicent could not say otherwise. She had the honor of witnessing the prince's beauty from a long distance and from a closer one.

The prince's presence was immediately distinguishable in the rabble. From afar, his majestic beauty stood out to the eyes, but up close, he was even better. It was like looking at the sun —an intense sensation. Alicent maybe had a crush on the prince, just a tiny bit, she would have sworn.

She was trying to make conversation, but the prince seemed not to pay attention to her. He answered her questions in a detached way or with the use of monosyllables like "yes," "no," and "I agree." Alicent was not one to throw in the towel easily. Gaining the undivided attention of the prince was going to be challenging, but she would have welcomed it with pleasure and excitement, and in the end, she would even win it.

Alicent was trying, but she was getting impatient. Her body was pressed against the firm body of the prince, his right hand clasped in hers in a pleasant grip, and his left hand resting politely on her back. Alicent could feel the heat radiating from the prince warm skin even through the fabric of the blue dress she was wearing, a more than pleasant sensation that she was welcoming and savoring. She had tried to attract the young prince's attention with a myriad of topics, all different from each other. She had tried to compliment him on his astonishing beauty, hoping to receive one in return, only to hear an almost condescending sound in response. She had also tried to engage in a conversation about dragons —which Alicent was frankly more scared of than delighted by-. Additionally, she had even attempted to talk about swordsmanship,  a topic foreign to her.

The prince seemed uninterested, and the fact that he continued to look behind Alicent head constantly, not sparing a glance at her even by mistake, made Alicent feel furious —more than a little-.

Alicent, feeling the prince's refusal, had decided to not speak anymore, choosing to dance in silence. The dance she had dreamed so much about had become more like torture. She plastered a tight-lipped smile on her lips, her chin held high, her gaze becoming more severe, and her grip on the prince's hand grew tighter.

"Prince," her tone was thin but sharp, "it seems to me that you have something or someone more interesting to observe."

Jaehaerys shook his head at the statement that came from Alicent's lips, but he had made no effort to prove the opposite. His gaze was firm on Gael, who seemed almost ready to escape from Lord Lannister's grasp, her face pale and her eyes full of unspoken embarrassment. Jaehaerys was ready to intervene at any signal Gael would give him.

Jaehaerys and Alicent were dancing together, listening to the same tune, but they seemed worlds apart. Jaehaerys spun her around, and in that moment, not only their minds were distant, but their bodies as well. The prince's fingers gently brushing over her clothed waist.

Alicent felt the urge to stop, to interrupt the dance, to put an end to her misery, to the humiliation she was going through, but she couldn't do it. People would speculate. They would say that she hadn't been enough. She would bring dishonor upon her family, upon her father.

Alicent felt the itchy desire to demand to the prince why he had accepted her invitation if he had wanted to share a dance with another lady?; She discarded that thought rather quickly, restraining herself and keeping her ladylike composure.

Then Alicent’s curiosity got the better of her. She slightly turned her head to see which lady had caught the prince’s eye, which lady the prince was ignoring her for. To which lady, Alicent at the end of the dance, was supposed to stain the dress with wine to compensate for her humiliation. Her brown eyes slid over the showy presence of Lady Velaryon.

Jaehaerys turned just in time to see Gael, who was backing away from the presence of Lord Lannister. But the lord, not taking "no" for an answer, had pulled her toward him with arrogance, not allowing her to escape. 

"Lady Alicent, I hope you will accept my humble and sincere apologies, but I fear I must go," Jaehaerys had declared with a smile that, for a moment, had made Alicent forget that she was furious with him. The prince had left after placing a kiss on the back of her hand, which she had pressed reverently to her chest, her cheeks burning red. On the floor, a glint caught her eye. When she bent down to pick it up, she realized it was the prince's brooch.

"You and Lady Hightower," Daemon had stated with a smile that promised torment. "When is the wedding? I'm sure her father is already planning it in his head, looking forward to sunk his filthy claws on a prince of house Targaryen," his cousin had commented out loud, with a bitter tone of voice.

"Don't even joke about it," Jaehaerys had solemnly stated. "No wedding, not now or in the future. Lower your voice before grandmother hears you."

"You seemed so involved in the dance," Daemon had teased, chuckling, and then had passed him the flag of wine they were sharing.

"Before or after I punched Lord Lannister square in the face?" Jaehaerys had asked sarcastically.

It had been a sight to behold -at least that was what his cousin Daemon had commented as he had escorted him out of the great hall-. Jaehaerys had seen his grandmother's livid face, but Gael's expression of relief had been worth it. "Asshole," he had then whispered under his breath, recalling lord Lannister smug face.

"The girl looked on the verge to cry. Her trying to get your attention in any way possible was almost embarrassing, but she's a Hightower. What could we expect from someone coming from that wretched family?"

"I didn't even want to dance with her. Grandma forced me," Jaehaerys had replied with a pout.

Behind them, there had been a loud noise that made them both turn —ice clicking on the stone floor. Behind them stood the form of Lady Alicent, tears glistening in her brown eyes, her lips pulled into a thin line, cheeks red prolly from the embarrassment and fists clenched tightly at the sides of her blue dress.

"Lady Alicent," Jaehaerys had tried to apologize, but the young lady had flown away with tears on her face.

"I wouldn't want to be you when Grandmother will find out," Daemon had joked, nudging him with his shoulder.

Chapter Text

Chapter Text

The nettlesome dilemma that was plaguing the Seven Kingdoms and the living members of the Targaryen dynasty was, "Who will sit upon the iron throne once King Jaehaerys breathes his last?" No one possessed a concrete and satisfying answer.

Reports stated that Corlys Velaryon was massing ships and men on Driftmark to "defend the rights" of his wife and children, while Daemon Targaryen, a hot-tempered young man, was gathering his own band of sworn swords in support of his brother, Viserys.

King Jaehaerys was deeply worried about the events that were unfolding before his eyes. Both his heirs -Aemon and Baelon- had perished, their bodies turned into ashes through the Targaryen funeral rites; there no longer seemed to be any clear successor to the Iron Throne, but it must be said that it was certainly not for the lack of claimants.

Both his sons had fathered heirs. Baelon had fathered two male heirs, Viserys and Daemon, both married men. While Daemon had not yet fathered a child, Baelon's eldest son, Viserys, had. He and his wife had given birth to a beautiful daughter: Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen. Aemon had fathered only one heir, a female heir, princess Rhaenys. Rhaenys, at a young age, had married Lord Corlys Velaryon and had already attempted to assert her right as heiress to the Iron Throne years prior upon her father's death, but the lords at the time had chosen to favor a male heir. Now, not only was Rhaenys a plausible heir to the throne, but if her right would've been frowned upon because of her sex, her son Laenor could have taken her place.

If only Baelon had recovered from his illness … if he had recovered and ascended to the throne as it had been decided, his son Viserys, then in due time, would have succeeded him as heir, and after him, the throne would have been passed down to one of his future sons.

King Jaehaerys was unsure how to handle the difficult situation, so he turned to another prince of House Targaryen, a prince who had turned into a "ghost" over the years, his son Vaegon Targaryen, seeking his counsel and eagerly seizing the solution he had offered him.

King Jaehaerys announced his intent to convene a Great Council to discuss, debate, and ultimately decide the matter of succession. All the great and lesser lords of Westeros would be invited to attend, along with maesters from the Citadel of Oldtown, and septas and septons to speak for the Faith. He would abide by the council’s decision, whomever they might choose, His Grace decreed.

The council to debate the succession would’ve been held at Harrenhal, the largest castle in the realm. No one knew how many lords would have come since no such council had ever been held before.

So Young Jaehaerys had departed for the castle in the company of his grandfather, escorted by a routine befitting only a king. The journey had been quite pleasant; since he and his grandfather had shared that heartfelt conversation in the royal garden, their relationship had improved markedly.

While Rhaenys and Viserys prepared themselves to face a "battle" made of alliances and wits, having to present their claim to the throne before a council (and vying for the title with other contenders who had come forward, including bastard children and those not from past generations of Targaryens), Jaehaerys had remained at his grandfather's side, spending afternoons in the tranquility of the royal garden, reminiscing about memories, or enjoying pleasant suppers in the private royal chambers.

Among the claimants who had brought forth their claims to the throne, there were two lads a couple of years older than Jaehaerys himself who loudly claimed to be the bastard sons of Princess Saera, his mother.

(It had been thought that Prince Jaehaerys himself would have brought forth his own claim to the throne, but to those who truly knew him, the thought was laughable -Jaehaerys and politics were two worlds apart. This notion had been supported by Saera herself: "I will never set foot in Westeros ever again. Rest assured that neither I nor my son Jaehaerys will press our claim to the throne. I created my own kingdom here, and one day this very kingdom will be inherited by my son as my sole heir," had been the condescending reply when someone had dared to ask. No mention had been made of the other bastard children.)

Jaehaerys wasn’t a fool; he knew exactly what fate had been reserved for his mother after the decisions she had taken while still being in Westeros, and he also knew the profession Saera had chosen to pursue. His mother had always tried to shield him from that part of her life, not wanting him to see it. She tended to host her clients when her son had already been put to bed by the nanny. However, Jaehaerys grew up, and sheer curiosity pervaded him. Night after night, he saw different men entering his mother's rooms, and his asking was due. Saera hadn't batted an eyelid at his questioning, she sat down next to him and explained to him with great patience (and in broad lines) what she did. 

His mother had always been transparent, bestowing her knowledge and her opinions upon him, even if unintentionally. Teaching him that everyone had the right to be the owner of their own body and to have the freedom to choose how to express their sexuality without dwelling on external judgments. She emphasized the importance of knowing and accepting one's own body and boundaries. 

So no, it hadn't been a surprise to learn that his mother had given birth to other children by other men, not that Jaehaerys actually knew who his father was, except for those few times his mother had unknowingly let slip some knowledge.

Jaehaerys had clung to those notions and had kept them safe in a corner of his heart.

The burning longing for a brother or a sister during his childhood had been persistent through the years, a yearning that unfortunately had never been fully fulfilled. Jaehaerys didn't want to sound ungrateful; in fact, he was profoundly grateful for what had been given to him over the years. He had had Gael, who had been more than a sister to him; Jaehaerys had Daemon, who acted like an older "annoyingly" brother toward him; and he had Rhaenyra. But that hadn’t seemed enough; he longed for a sibling that shared his blood.

There were times in the Red Keep when Viserys and Daemon found themselves walking the same ground. Jaehaerys had watched them sharing lighthearted remarks, slapping each other on the shoulders with curious eyes and a hint of jealousy.

His grandmother had once spotted him seated on the steps leading downstairs, with a frown knitted on his face while watching the scene of brotherhood that was unfolding before his eyes. She had sat beside him and observed the scene quietly, waiting for her grandson to initiate the conversation. When the silence had stretched long enough and Jaehaerys had shown no inclination to speak about it, she brought up the topic.

"My dear Jaehaerys," his grandmother had stated in a soft voice, her right hand stroking his curls. "What you must know is that a brother is a bond that can go beyond genetics. A brother is not just a figure made of blood; he is a person who stands by your side in difficult times, a shoulder to lean on, someone who cares for you deeply and loves you unconditionally."

Those words had stirred something inside him, and Jaehaerys found himself turning to his grandmother's seated form. "Daemon, Gael, Rhaenyra -they have been and are so much more than just blood siblings."

Those words had healed his wounded heart. His grandmother was right; a sibling wasn't just made of blood, but having two half-brothers who shared a mother with you, walking on your same ground, was certainly a sign.

Jaehaerys had tried. He had sought the boy who was considered the spitting image of his grandfather in his youth - even though his grandfather had scrunched up his nose and curled his lip when he had heard the news and had proclaimed in a voice that brooked no arguments that it was blasphemy; the boy bore no resemblance to him.

He had learned from reliable sources that the boy's name was Arlion and that he had a rather unpleasant attitude. When Jaehaerys had approached him, with the aim of a friendly conversation in mind, dressed all in red and black, favoring the colors of House Targaryen, with hand-embroidered Drogonesque details on them, Arlion had immediately recognized who he was.

In his defense, there weren't many princes of his age who possessed dark hair instead of the silvery color that half of his family had. Jaehaerys realized in the blink of an eye that his half-brother was unsociable, gruff, and uncommunicative (or perhaps this latter quality had been directed at Jaehaerys in particular).

Jaehaerys had greeted him with a warm tone of voice, "I'm Jaehaerys, your half-brother; we share the same mother." Arlion had looked at him with no small amount of indifference, then, in a haughty tone, had replied, "I know who you are, Prince Jaehaerys." There had been a moment of silence, and then the boy had continued in a cold tone, "Mother? I don't have a mother."

Jaehaerys might have agreed with the last statement -his mother, Saera, had a tendency to simply not recognize her bastard children- so Jaehaerys had been ready to apologize for that superficial and tasteless statement he had made when Arlion had resumed speaking.

"What have you come here for? Have you come to flaunt your fortune? The fact that, unlike the rest of us, you've earned a place in the royal family? Their name? One of their dragons? Their riches?" Arlion stated contemptuously, crossing his arms over his chest. "Words reach even the free cities, you know. Queen Alysanne leaving her possessions to her favorite grandson, and our 'Mother' is ready to leave her empire in your hands. Sometimes I do wonder why she didn't just leave you on the street like the rest of us. Why did she keep you? Was your father such a great lover that she decided to keep you? Perhaps your father was a great beauty, and she hoped you would inherit the best of their genes, hoping in time to turn you into one of her whores just like her, a means to increase her income."

At his callous remarks, Jaehaerys had wanted to react impulsively, instinctively, unable to bear the insults hurled at him, but he held his tongue. In the following days, he reevaluated that encounter much more than he liked to admit. His mood had dipped, and his grandfather had taken note of it, but he hadn't said a word, respecting Jaehaerys's boundaries. The truth was that Jaehaerys comprehended, in a way, the resentment and the aversion that Arlion felt towards him. Essentially, he was right: he'd been luckier than the others. His mother, Saera, had been a constant and loving figure since the beginning, and at the age of five, he had been thrust into the luxury that surrounded the Targaryen family as if it had been something ordinary.

Arlion had implied that his mother had kept him for his father prowess, but Jaehaerys knew scantily about him. He knew that his father had been a tall man with a thick beard, with long and curly black hair, and that he used to bring the cold of his homeland whenever he went - or at least that's what he had grasped from his mother's rumblings when she thought Jaehaerys was asleep.

Jaehaerys that night had been in his bed, trying to sleep, but sleep had continued to elude him. He'd tried closing his eyes, hoping sleep would come somehow, but it was all for nothing. He was about to rise from his bed, heading towards the kitchens to ask Lynara -the estate's cook- to provide him with some sweets when the door of his room had been gently opened. 

Jaehaerys kept his eyes closed, the click of his mother's slippers turning into a soothing sound. Then he felt the bed, where he was trying to fall asleep without success, sink under the weight of a second person: his mother.

 Saera, as she often did whenever she faced a stressful day or felt particularly nostalgic, had headed to her son's room and had sleep with him, seeking comfort from the only person who loved her unconditionally.

"Sometimes I look at you and I see him, my Alaric. All saw his tall, well-built figure, his steel-grey eyes, and thought of an intimidating, harsh, and rather unfriendly person, frequently portraying him as a gruff man. I must admit that I thought so too the first time we met when he approached me with his stern expression, his brutish mannerisms, and bland ways. Then I met him, having the chance to peel away layer after layer, discovering underneath his well built sheet of ice, his kindness, his sweetness, his caring. Everywhere he went, he seemed to bring with him the snow of his homeland —the purity and its cleansing freshness. We had a common dream, daydreaming of building a family of our own, and we almost succeeded. Then, like a bolt from the blue, the harsh reality woke us up, turning that blissful dream into a gruesome one. The candid smile he used to give me was replaced by one of pain, his grey eyes turned into unseeing ones, and his blood stained the earth beneath."

His mother, that evening, had unknowingly provided Jaeherys with enough means for him to build in his own head the figure of that mysterious and absent father, not that his mother should ever know that he knew.

After his encounter with Arlion hadn't gone as Jaehaerys had expected, he forced himself not to seek out his other half-brother, but fate had a strange way of manifesting itself. When Jaehaerys had hoped to meet one of his brothers on Harrenhal soil, he met none; now that he was subconsciously trying to avoid them, he found the other in the training grounds of the castle.

"Do you want to train?" the blue-haired boy asked with a bright and amiable expression, handing him a training sword. "I'm bored," he added with a pout.

Jaehaerys should have politely declined, leaving before more venomous words could have been aimed at him, but his feet and mouth had refused to cooperate, and so he found himself nodding in agreement. Where Arlion had appeared gruff and uncommunicative, the boy before him seemed warm and affable. Between swings and parries, Jaehaerys noticed how effortlessly his half-brother made friends. After an intense workout, while sweat dripped down their faces, they took a break.

It had been easy to pretend he wasn't who he was. When he introduced himself to Arlion, he had donned formal attire that screamed Targaryen; today, Jaehaerys wore an effortless tunic and a pair of light linen breeches.

"Prince Jaehaerys," Ser Alestar -one of Jaehaerys's loyal knights, those who had been carefully selected by his grandmother years prior- greeted him with a curtsy, making his presence known. Jaehaerys nodded and gradually shifted his gaze to the blue-haired boy, suspecting he was wearing the same expression of contempt as Arlion's.

"You should see your face," he quipped with a chuckle. "Am I that scary?" Jaehaerys then tried to adopt a more impassive look, keeping his defenses up so he wouldn't be caught off guard.

When the laughter subsided, the blue-haired boy introduced himself with a friendly smile. "I'm Noriros, but I think you already knew that, brother."

"You knew?" Jaehaerys asked, his face showing disbelief.

"Why did you think I'd ask you to train?" Noriros quipped back, his smile unwavering.

Jaehaerys had immediately noticed the differences between Noriros and Arlion. Where Arlion had been gruff and aloof, Noriros had been friendly and prone to warm gestures. This probably derived by the fact that Noriros had been raised by his father, cocooned in rich and lavish surroundings; the dwarf elephant they had brought to Harrenhal was a clear indication of that.

They'd talked a lot. Noriros had told him about his childhood, about his father, the reason behind his bluish hair, and the elephant he'd brought with him. Jaehaerys, in return, had told him about his own childhood, about his grandmother Alysanne, Gael, and how he had claimed his dragon on Dragonstone. Once or twice, Saera's name had slipped from Jaehaerys's mouth, but Noriros had seemed to not mind.

While the high lords were deliberating over who should be the crown's successor, Jaehaerys found himself hanging out with Noriros, making efficient use of their time. At the end of the council, Noriros would return to Volantis, and Jaehaerys would remain in King's Landing, keeping the promise he had made to his grandfather. But one day, when his grandfather will be gone and Jaehaerys will no longer be bound by any promises, he could visit his half-brother.

In the end, the fourteen candidates had been reduced to nine, and from nine to two. The contenders for the title of heir remained Rhaenys and Viserys. That evening -as usual- Jaehaerys had retired to the king's chambers. He found his grandfather sitting on the edge of the bed with a grave expression marring his face.

"Has something happened, Grandfather?" Jaehaerys had asked after closing the door behind him.

"Tomorrow is an important day. The Lords have made their decision," King Jaehaerys had stated solemnly. "Tomorrow we will know who will sit on the Iron Throne upon my death."

"You know," Jaehaerys had then stated, "or you presume to know," he had added with a serious expression, his violet eyes curious.

"Alysanne was right, you're a clever boy," his grandfather had stated, not wanting to say anything else.

"I won't tell anyone," Jaehaerys had then blurted out. His grandfather had looked at him and then had chuckled. Jaehaerys hadn't given up the topic "Who do you think will sit on the Iron Throne?"

"I think the choice is quite obvious. No one would accept a woman as ruler of the Seven Kingdoms; Rhaenys rule would be constantly undermined, and I fear her husband's presence wouldn't be enough. In the eyes of the Lords, Rhaenys, descending from Aemon's blood, isn't enough. She has a son, Laenor; his claim is better than his mother's, but who would thrust the realm in the hands of a seven-year-old? I think Viserys will be named as my successor," his grandfather had explained. Jaehaerys had looked at him for a few seconds, mulling over his grandfather words, eyebrows knitted.

"I can see it," his grandfather had stated enigmatically. When Jaehaerys had looked at him, urging him to continue, his grandfather had added with solemnity, "I can see the fire of Alysanne's rebellion in you."

"I just think Rhaenys could be a fine queen if given the opportunity," Jaehaerys had stated matter-of-factly. His grandfather had simply chuckled.

The proclamation of who would be chosen as the heir to the crown was taking place in the great hall of the castle hosting them. Jaehaerys was sitting in the front row, with Daemon to his right, a triumphant grin plastered on his face, and Rhaenyra to his left, her eyes fixed on her parents, her hands restlessly fidgeting, awaiting the verdict. Across the hall, in the front row, his eyes briefly met those of Laena, who was visibly nervous. Jaehaerys offered her a brief smile, and when she returned it, he went back to observe the scene unfolding before them.

Jaehaerys knows that Noriros was also present in one of the middle rows, having stayed back to spend more time with him and being curious to discover who will be the heir to the throne. Jaehaerys was watching his grandfather; his face was stoic, but his eyes possessed a slight sadness. A small hand clasped his, and when he lowered his gaze, he noticed that it was Rhaenyra's, presumably seeking a handhold. Jaehaerys clutched her hand back.

On the high platform, Viserys and Aemma were on the right. In the center was his grandfather, King Jaehaerys, seated on a makeshift throne, about to read the council's verdict. On the left were the figures of Rhaenys and Corlys.

Everyone was waiting; Jaehaerys could hear the murmurs of the people in the great hall erratically bouncing from one wall to the other. The room then fell into a hush when King Jaehaerys picked up the sheet -which had been handed to him by a servant- where the verdict had been scribbled. The hall waited in heavy silence; the seconds seemed to stretch on. Rhaenyra's hand was gripping his in a painful hold; he hadn't made a big deal of it, caught up in the moment. Then his grandfather spoke, breaking the silence.

"Prince Viserys Targaryen," his grandfather declared in a solemn tone of voice.

Chapter Text

Alicent, as well as her family -her father, Lord Otto Hightower; her mother, Lady Alyrie Florent; and her two older brothers, Gwayne and Dywen Hightower- had been welcomed by their uncle, Lord Hobert Hightower (head of House Hightower and ruler of Oldtown), in his house to celebrate the prestigious role her father had earned as the King’s Hand.

Her uncle Hobert had spared no expense on the dinner celebration he had organized; his brother had gained an esteemed position at court, so the extravagant celebrations were warranted. A variety of topics had been discussed while meals were being served, including the details about his brother's departure and his sons' future responsibilities.

"I've got some grand plans, brother," her father was beaming, his eyes twinkling. "Gwayne and Dywen will accompany us to King's Landing. As the younger sibling, Dywen will remain with us in the Red Keep. When he comes of age, he can take on the role of squire to some knight. Gwayne will stay with us for a year or two, until we're settled in and have gained some kind of stability. Then he will come here to Oldtown under your guardianship. After all, he and Ormund share a deep bond," her father explained, cleaning his greasy hands with a linen cloth.

"What will be the fate of dear Alicent?" his uncle asked with keen interest, drawing attention to her. Now all eyes were fixed on her, and her cheeks were flaming.

"Don't fret, brother; I have great things in store for her. Wonderful opportunities are awaiting her," her father had replied cryptically, deliberately choosing to abstain from disclosing further information. Hobert was annoyed by it, and the wave of irritation that crossed his face was proof enough. "Get on with it, brother. I haven't got all day," Hobert snapped, losing his cool demeanor, his voice tight with frustration.

Her father had brushed off the questions of her uncle with an airy chuckle, completely unfazed by his brother's patience wearing thin. He looked almost complacent given the delicate circumstance. Hobert was on the verge of unleashing his simmering discontent on his brother, ready to rebuke him for his vexing behavior. But just as Hobert was about to speak, her father, Otto, seized the opportunity to talk, probably sensing that he was walking on thin ice and was a second away from being on the receiving end of his older brother's sheer rage.

"Are you interested in knowing what the latest whisper from the court is?" Otto stated with a crooked smile. "The royal family seems to be quite worried about our dear king's welfare, and few are privy to the information I’m about to disclose here. Recently, his grandchildren held a private council to address the situation. For obvious reasons, it has been disguised under the pretense of a family meal. Obtaining this information was far from simple, and it did not come cheaply, but in the end, the profit will outweigh the cost."

The focus of the entire table was settled on the figure of her father; they were waiting with bated breath, eager to hear the information that her father had secured for himself and for his family's gain. Otto was well aware of this and was clearly pleased with the outcome.

"His grandchildren are searching for stimulating companionship to keep the king's mind sharp and occupied. I proposed my dear Alicent to Prince Viserys; the prince was delighted by the proposal. He saw it as the perfect solution since our family is about to relocate to the royal castle."

Her father's words spoke of "stimulating companionship" for the fading king, but his eyes and his unbridled ambition suggested otherwise. Otto was moving his pawns slowly and deliberately. His initial move had been to ensure his own appointment as the dying monarch's Hand. While he would assist the king's affairs from his sickbed, he would be "strategically" cultivating the heir's favor, ensuring that his position as Hand would be renewed upon the king's inevitable demise. 

And while Otto strategically cultivated the favor of the heir, his daughter would act as the king’s constant companion, turning into his shadow. Her duty would be to acquire as much information as possible about the other members of the royal family, or better paraphrased as confidential information. Additionally, she would have the opportunity to meet and befriend the youthful royal members, such as Princess Rhaenyra and Prince Jaehaerys.

Alicent had no doubt that her father’s intentions toward Prince Jaehaerys extended beyond mere friendship, but he was blissfully unaware of what had happened years earlier when his daughter had shared a dance with the young prince. To this day, her father remained oblivious to the prince's coldness and inattention toward Alicent, and how the prince had had eyes for another lady the whole time. Her father didn’t know the humiliation she had suffered in the prince's eyes that very evening when, in a moment of poor judgment, she had hastened to the prince's aid with a pack of ice secured in her hands after the prince had delivered a blow to Lord Lannister's face because the smug lord had been harassing his beloved aunt Gael the whole night. She vividly remembered how her youthful illusions had been crushed by the cutting remarks exchanged between the young prince and his cousin, the rogue prince Daemon.

Even though the evening had been a complete failure and even after her dreams had been dashed by the two princes' callous words, her fondness for the young prince had never waned. The treasured brooch of Prince Jaehaerys that Alicent discreetly fastened into the many layers of her gown daily served as enough proof that she was withholding (deliberately) more than one secret from her father.

If anyone were to discover the "brooch," it would surely lead to probing questions, and Alicent lacked the answers (or maybe she lacked the will to answer them). Because then eventually she would have to admit that, after finding the brooch on the floor where it had fallen from the prince's attire, she had deliberately chosen to keep it instead of returning it to its owner or the royal family. She feared that her actions would surely fall under the dub of thievery.

That is why Alicent should have known better than to fall for her cousin's scheme.

"Might I have the honor of accompanying you?" Her cousin Denyse had stated, addressing unashamedly her Uncle Otto and Aunt Alyrie.

Alicent had seen her father grimacing behind his wine goblet. Her mother, Alyrie, had offered a reassuring smile and had stated, "That's a lovely idea, Denyse; it would be great for Alicent to have your companionship."

Alicent resisted the impulse to contort her face into a grimace as her father had just done moments before. In all honesty, she and Denyse didn't share a "close bond"; their relationship was built merely on jealousy, pettiness, and rivalry, a fact she was careful to conceal from her mother.

"Oh, Denyse," her aunt Lynesse Hightower, wife of Hobert and mother of Denyse and Ormund, had stated with a glint in her eyes, "I have no doubt that your charms will earn the prince's notice," she had proclaimed with a sly grin.

"Hobert," she had then added casually, addressing her lordly husband, "how lovely would it be if our daughter were to wed Prince Jaehaerys?"

Lynesse looked utterly delighted; surely she was already planning the wedding in her head. With her usual grace, Alyrie had responded with an approving nod. Hobert glanced at his wife, contemplating the idea, and after a moment's pause, he declared, "You're absolutely right, wife! That would be splendid."

Otto was clearly not pleased, a fact made apparent when he nearly choked on his goblet of wine. Alyrie looked at her husband with concern while Hobert gave his brother two firm pats on the back.

"I'm fine," his father had stated in a hoarse voice, almost struggling to speak.

Denyse was a thorn in his side. His niece represented a threat to his meticulously crafted schemes, and he would not tolerate it. "I'm sure that Prince Jaehaerys will be enchanted by you, Denyse," his father had commented with a deceptively amiable smile, trying to keep the venom out of his tone of voice. Then, with a spiteful glint in his eye, he had maliciously added, "Alyrie, do you recall when Alicent shared a dance with Prince Jaehaerys at the sovereign's fiftieth year of reign anniversary? He was so taken by our precious girl."

Denyse scoffed. "If you ask me, he couldn't have looked less interested; he seemed utterly bored."

"Denyse, darling, don't be unkind! We are talking about your cousin," Lynesse had chastised her daughter, but the way she looked at her conveyed that she didn't completely disagree with her daughter's observation.

"You are mistaken, dear niece," Otto had declared, his mask of pleasantry beginning to falter in the face of Denyse's scathing remarks. "I remember with perfect clarity the prince and my daughter sharing a meaningful dance."

"Was that before or after he hit the young Lannister? He seemed quite relieved by the diversion that had been provided," Denyse remarked with a bitter edge that matched that of her uncle Otto's venom; her hand tightened around her goblet. Her cousin's remark had somehow elicited a communal laugh from the Hightower family (or almost everyone). The only exceptions had been Denyse and Otto, who were exchanging spiteful looks, and Alicent, who had managed only a strained half-smile.

Denyse waited for the laughter to fade before shifting her challenging gaze from her uncle Otto to her cousin Alicent and addressing her, "Cousin, I'm certain that Prince Jaehaerys enjoyed dancing with you, but if we are to be realistic, the long wait suggests that his feelings are not romantic. If he had been interested, he would have made his intentions known by now, don’t you agree?" Her cousin stated in a honeyed tone, a faux smile spreading on her rosy lips, then her right hand clasped Alicent's in a hollow gesture of false sympathy.

With a feigned air of naiveté, Denyse then proposed, "If you don't mind, could I try to get my chance with the prince?"

Alicent should have bitten back her "resentment" and simply said, "It doesn't matter, Denyse," but she had yielded to its command, allowed it to rule her and her mouth, and in the end, the words had slipped out with an edge of venom in them: "That's assuming, of course, that the prince has done nothing." Then, with a decisive, sharp tug, Alicent had pulled her hand free from her cousin's grasp.

A sudden hush fell over the table. The optimal course of action that she should have chosen would have been to express regret by acknowledging her wrongdoing. Alicent should have admitted her lies; she should’ve admitted that her earlier words were fabricated, something born from jealousy. In the blink of an eye, she sprang to her feet. The chair where she was sitting clattered unceremoniously to the floor, though no one paid it any mind, too engrossed in watching her yank the brooch from the bodice of her lily dress, tossing it with more force than necessary onto the table.

"If Prince Jaehaerys had disliked sharing a dance with me or if he had shown no interest in me at all, he certainly wouldn't have gifted me this brooch."

The brooch she had tossed on the table quickly became the center of all attention; it had been made of pure gold, and frankly, its opulence had been no surprise to her, given that it was a royal's possession. It had been fashioned in the form of a dragon, with a pair of emeralds acting as eyes (a tribute to Jaehaerys's own dragon), and the initials JH had been neatly carved into the gold.

A smile of pride spread across her father Otto's face, her uncle Hobert acknowledged the situation with a slight nod of his head, and Alyrie looked stunned. Her daughter's omission felt like a deep betrayal, and though her aunt Lynesse was seething, Denyse looked unfazed. It irked Alicent.

"The way I see it, a brooch isn't a marriage proposal, dear cousin! I hope you don't mind if I make my interest known to him. If his affections for you are as strong as you think, and if he has no intention of pursuing me, he can tell me himself that he has no interest."

At her words, Alicent barely suppressed the childish impulse to pull her cousin's hair in a gesture of annoyance.

Knowing her family, Alicent acted quickly, trying to keep them from spreading word of the brooch outside the room (though she may not have been successful). "I hope I can count on your discretion regarding what was discussed tonight. Prince Jaehaerys is quite private, and I would be devastated to lose his affection because I disclosed our little secret tonight."

Somehow, the story about the "brooch" and "the prince" had spread like wildfire across the seven kingdoms, and Alicent was fairly certain that Denyse was behind it. The following speculation was spoken with a sparkle of amusement by both the wealthy and the poorest alike:

"Word is that Lady Hightower received a brooch from the charming prince Jaehaerys!"

"I'm so envious! Do you suppose the prince will start bestowing gifts on other ladies as well?"

"What special quality does she possess? What makes her better than us?"

"Is she worthy of the prince's affection?"

"Can we believe this tale?"

Her name, thankfully, hadn’t been mentioned once, so even if the prince investigated, the trail wouldn't lead back to her, at least not in the immediate.

"What's this I hear about a brooch and a Hightower lady?" His cousin Daemon teased with a grin.

"I have no idea what you're referring to," Jaehaerys shot back with feigned indifference.

The truth was that Prince Jaehaerys was well aware of what his cousin meant, but he felt drained by all the explaining he had to do these last few days. When the whispers regarding a brooch gifted to a Hightower lady had arisen and had started to be spread throughout the whole Kingdom, he had been cornered by the crown (and family).

The first member of the family to inquire about the matter -to no one's astonishment- had been his grandfather, the King. To be honest, it had been a very pleasant conversation, a time when his grandfather had shed his royal duties and had acted purely as a grandfather. He had inquired about the veracity of the information received, pondering if Jaehaerys had finally found someone to court. The answer had been no to both questions.

Aemma hadn’t needed to ask; she knew him well, and her deep knowledge of him and his character made the act of questioning seem superfluous. She hadn’t said a word about the subject, but the meaningful look she had sent his way and the gentle kiss she had placed on his forehead conveyed everything.

Viserys was worried for an entirely different reason: the Hightowers were going into service for the royal family; they would occupy quarters in the royal stronghold. He was more concerned about propriety and circumventing any potential damage to their family name. Rhaenyra had just been curious.

Since Daemon had not been at court lately, he had not had the chance to ask. He had moved to Dragonstone for a time as an act of "defiance" against his older brother; it was merely a response to his elder brother's appointment of Otto Hightower's daughter as their grandfather's daily companion. Given his well-known animosity toward Otto Hightower, the ill-tempered reaction came as no surprise.

"You are hiding something," Daemon declared, his gaze unwavering. "Tell me now."

His exhaustion, coupled with the knowledge of Daemon's relentless nature, left him with no choice but to speak.

"I can confirm to you, cousin, that I gifted nothing to anyone," Jaehaerys declared earnestly. "I am quite certain that it’s the brooch I lost a few years ago at grandfather celebratory ball. I’m pretty sure that someone found it and pretended it was a gift from me."

"Hightowers," his cousin muttered with disdain. "They're like vipers, always lurking just beneath the surface."

"Rest assured, I do not plan to engage with them," Jaehaerys declared with finality. Both of them stopped in front of the door leading to his grandfather's royal apartments.

"Listen, Daemon, I know you don't approve of this," his cousin had scoffed. He clearly had something to say, but he reined himself in and let Jaehaerys talk. "Go easy on Viserys. Our family is falling apart, and in these past years, we've seen more sorrow than celebration," Jaehaerys voice was tinged with sadness.

"Our grandfather is on his deathbed, and we have just endured a crisis over the succession. Even if Rhaenys shows no ill will, Corlys's discontent is evident whenever Viserys is around; his bitterness increases whenever he is addressed as heir." He stated solemnly, then after taking a breath had continued, "Without bringing up the matter of Viserys's suffering, the constant pressure for a male heir he is going trough because, apparently, Rhaenyra seems not to be enough. I can see Aemma crumbling from the repeated heartbreaks she is going through; she is holding on by a thread. Setting aside the rightness or wrongness of the decision he took, it seems he made it out of practicality; perhaps he saw something that we didn't see in Lady Hightower."

His words earned no visible reaction from his cousin Daemon, which was hardly surprising. His cousin was a man of action rather than words, choosing to use his sword rather than apologize. Jaehaerys understood that and could almost relate. Jaehaerys himself was emotionally inept, having a hard time putting his feelings into words, leaving a trail of emotional wreckage with his actions. But he knew that his words had been heard and acknowledged. The lack of a violent outburst was nonetheless a positive sign.

So when his cousin patted his shoulder in parting, calmly asserting his expectation that they would celebrate his return to King's Landing that evening together, getting wasted in the less respectable taverns and whorehouses present in Flea Bottom, Jaehaerys gave a nod of assent.

Following his grandfather's instructions, the guards stood aside, allowing him to enter the royal quarters without being announced, forgoing the usual protocol, as he had become his grandfather's only source of solace.

He was so wrapped up in his own mind that he failed to notice the third person present in the room; he inadvertently collided with the figure who was just pulling a woolen blanket from the armchair located at the entryway. His quick reflexes allowed him to grab the figure and save her from crashing onto the hardened floor.

He began to stammer an apology; then his gaze settled on the figure he had stumbled upon. The person -or to be more precise- the lady looked somehow familiar, but his mind obstinately refused to provide a name.

"Lady…" Jaehaerys left his sentence hanging, prompting the lady to fill in the blank.

"Lady Alicent," she huffed in annoyance, "I am Lady Alicent Hightower."

Her sharp tone of voice made him flinch inside but he comprehended the cause of her annoyance, given that he had startled her with his unannounced entrance and had nearly knocked her over.

"Otto's daughter," Jaehaerys remarked, "it completely slipped my mind that you have become a constant presence in my grandfather's daily activities. If I had been aware you were here, I would have come another time." Jaehaerys hated imposing his presence, especially when his own presence unsettled someone. The reddish-haired girl scowled at his statement.

"I'm Prince Jae-" he began his introduction, but the girl unceremoniously cut him off. "I know who you are, Prince Jaehaerys! Your reputation precedes you," the lady replied with a harsh tone, clutching the woolen blanket in her hands.

"Let me-" Lady Hightower interrupted him mid-sentence for the second time. "I can carry it. I don't need your help," her voice was tight as she hugged the blanket to her chest and took two steps back.

"I apologize; I can see that my presence is making you uncomfortable," he announced in a soft tone of voice. "Indulge me with one quick question, and then I promise to not trouble you further." Jaehaerys saw a fleeting expression of sadness crossing the lady's comely visage at his words, but she acquiesced to his request with a nod nonetheless.

"I imagine you've heard the whispers surrounding the "brooch". I was wondering if you might have a hint on who has been spreading these blatant falsehoods around. I want to make it clear that I am not blaming you or your family. I am not upset; I just want the truth to put an end to this mess," Jaehaerys inquired while keeping his composure.

The lady's face morphed into a tempest of fury at his words.

"You don't remember, do you? How could you!" the lady stated with irritation. "You can't possibly remember the lady with whom you shared a dance long ago, can you? But I'll give you a hint: you embarrassed her publicly by openly leering at someone else, acting with callousness and making her look like a fool when all she had wanted was to get your attention." Lady Alicent asserted, her voice thick with resentment. "And if that's not enough to make you remember, I'll tell you something much more remarkable. Perhaps you'll recall the lady you and Prince Daemon made fun of as she selflessly brought you ice for your knuckles after your fight with Lord Lannister?" Alicent inquired, her face flushed with a mixture of anger and shame; her cheeks were tear-streaked.

"Are you looking for the culprit?" the lady cried out, desperately trying to swipe away the evidence of her tears with the back of her hand. "Can't you see her? She's right here! It was me; I'm the one who told everyone you gifted me the brooch. Can you picture the humiliation I would have had to endure by explaining that I had been nothing more than an unpleasant and unwelcome dance partner? You owe me!"

Then the blanket fell from her hands, landing on the floor. The sound of slippers and Lady Hightower's departure from the royal apartments triggered a memory from years prior: the sound of ice shattering on the floor and the image of the lady's heartbreaking expression as she walked away.

Lady Alicent Hightower. Damn it!