The terms were rejected.

Aegon was highly displeased. On top of this, Daemon had taken Harrenhal in the night. It was a great blow to them, the wealth of House Strong seized as was the castle that could have served to garrison their forces. It was a victory for Rhaenyra, a blow to Aegon, an overall reminder of the threat posed by Daemon and Caraxes.

Now, Rhaenyra had a stronghold on the mainland. She had no army, of course, but it was likely that Daemon intended to bring the Riverland forces to her side. Unfortunately for them, she had many supporters along the Trident. The Freys, Blackwoods, Mootons, Pipers, Rootes, Darrys, Mallisters, and Vances began immediately declaring that they remembered the oaths sworn to King Viserys and his rightful heir.

Lord Grover Tully himself had said nothing at all– he was an old man who had favored Viserys at the Great Council, but now lay bedridden. Otto expected his grandson, Ser Elmo Tully, would speak for their house. Riverrun could suffer against dragonfire on both sides– they had only to see who they'd declare for, in the end. They were initially met with silence.

"Why are we still waiting for Aemond?" asked Aegon, pacing back and forth before the Small Council table. All members had been dismissed, save Alicent, Otto, and Karrhys. Rhysaenya stood beside her husband, wringing her hands after she'd read the scroll they'd received from Storm's End– I must speak with you all at once, I'll arrive on the morrow.Addressed to Aegon, but she knew who else he meant to include in that.

"His message appeared urgent," Rhysaenya reminded him. She didn't like it at all– it sounded as though something was wrong. Maybe he'd failed to win the hand of one of Lord Borros's daughters– maybe he hadn't wanted to. Maybe he'd cost them the Stormlands. Maybe he was being allowed to leave only because Borros couldn't take a prince captive, certainly not the rider of Vhagar.

Otto and Karrhys shared a look– neither of them liked what this could mean. They were surely thinking along the same lines as her. Aegon sighed boredly, "We've much else to discuss. Namely what we will do now that this whore spat in the face of my terms."

"It will be discussed," assured Otto. "Once we have seen where our alliances stand." She knew he was worried– they might have had three mighty armies on their side already, but it wasn't looking like they would be finding many allies north of Duskendale.

When at last Aemond arrived, he did not look well. His eye darted around each person present– Rhysaenya wondered if it had been a good idea for Aegon to let her father remain there. "My son," said Alicent, looking to him for an answer. "What is it? Have you secured the Stormlands for your brother?"

She was the first to notice that he looked as though he might cry. "I have," he said, albeit shakily. "I will wed... the Lady Floris Baratheon. Lord Borros has... pledged his support."

"You look unwell, Aemond," noticed Aegon. "What is it?" He knew better than to celebrate his brother's betrothal– they all knew what it meant. Rhysaenya doubted Lady Floris would want him bedding the Queen during their marriage.

He fumbled with the hilt of his sword, as if looking for some comfort. "I... I erred. Greatly. Rhaenyra sent her Strong lads out for the same purpose. Lucerys and Arrax came to Storm's End as I was drawing up my deal. I didn't mean for it to take the course it did. It was storming. I was angry. One of Borros's daughters said something–" He turned away, he couldn't even face them. "The boy and his dragon are dead."

"Mother have mercy on us all," said Alicent, ghostly pale. She looked to her father, who said immediately, "You only lost one eye. How could you be so blind?" He put his hand on his forehead in frustration. To clean this mess up... no, there was no cleaning it. There was only living with the consequences.

Aemond couldn't bring himself to look at Rhysaenya, though she knew he wanted to. She wasn't sure what she felt– was she impressed? Horrified? Disgusted? It was not at all what should have happened. How could Aemond lose control that way?

Aegon didn't seem to share everyone's concern. "I say we throw my brother a feast," he declared. "He has shown he is the true blood of the dragon, and he's made us a good beginning." He noticed the incredulous look from Otto. "What's done is done, is it not?"

"If Rhaenyra hears we are feasting to her son's murder..." Rhysaenya could not even finish her thought. "No, Aegon, it's tactless. It was an accident, it would be different if it were intentional. He was only a boy. That dragon wouldn't even have fought in any battles."

"And what do you suggest?" he questioned. "What, should I write an apology to my bitch of a half-sister?"

She shook her head. "That wouldn't be received well even if you did. There is nothing that can be done to mend this. We must be on high alert. An attack will come." She looked to her father. "I want you to bring us guards from the Phoenixfort. It will take them time to arrive, but now we know they may cross through the Stormlands. The guard should be doubled."

"Come on, Rhysaenya," said Aegon in disbelief. "She won't get anywhere in here. We must be prepared in the skies. Aemond and Vhagar will patrol, won't they? She'd have to be a madwoman and unleash all her dragons at once to contest us. If we met them with Vhagar, Sunfyre, and Skyfall... they'd be done for."

"We don't know how they might retaliate," said Rhysaenya sharply. "We only know that they will. Do you really believe she would let this go unanswered?"

"They'll move swiftly with their blockade of the Gullet," assured Karrhys. "They will mean to starve us out. They will try to poach our allies. They may not answer in the way we believe. But I will do as you say, Your Grace, and I will bring more men. If it would make you feel safer, it will be done."

She was glad he was in support, for Aegon was irritating her by not taking the threat seriously. Anything could be made to happen, they could be lured into a trap where they might not be so easily able to defend themselves, and how would they know? How would they be prepared?

Aegon did not come to find her that night, which she was fine with. She waited up knowing it was Aemond who would come to her for comfort. Sure enough, as she was crawling into her bed, she heard movement in the wall. He'd yet to come visit her in these new chambers– she'd been told the tunnels from the rest of the castle did not connect with Maegor's Holdfast because of the moat. But, she surmised, there were tunnels within accessible only to its inhabitants. It was certainly going to be easier for Aemond to come find her now.

"I made a mistake," he said, slowly removing his eyepatch as he stepped through. He looked so vulnerable, so ashamed, she didn't have the heart to scold him.

She opened her arms, beckoning him towards her. He came, kicking off his boots gently and beginning to undress. Left in only his smallclothes, he crawled onto the bed and laid his head on her chest. She began to caress his head, letting him hold onto her and curl up as he pleased. "I did not mean to become so upset," he whispered. "I thought the pain had passed. But I saw that bastard boy there, daring to try for that alliance, and I..."

"What did the Baratheon girl say?" she questioned. "You said one... made a comment of sorts. Something that irked you, it seems."

He sneered, "Lady Maris. I would not disrespect Lord Borros by shedding blood beneath his roof. I was only toying when I said I'd have his eye or his life. But when she saw I would not instigate a fight, she asked if he took one of my eyes or one of my balls. She said she was glad I chose Floris, that she wanted a husband with all his parts."

She shut her eyes, breathing deep and knowing that a comment like that had surely sent Aemond into a rage. If Lord Borros had let them go, well, Lucerys had been doomed from the first. Perhaps if that girl hadn't said anything, he wouldn't have reacted so.

He murmured, "I thank you for stopping him from feasting because of it. I feel no pride in the moment. I thought... killing the bastard would feel better. Instead, I am only unfulfilled." He shook his head, perhaps considering that this was the first time everyone was disappointed in him. "I no longer wish to speak of it."

"Very well," she said gently. "Tell me about Floris Baratheon. Is she nice?"

She felt his muscles clenching, his whole body tense. "She is the prettiest of Lord Borros's daughters. Sweet, gentle. But nothing like you, she is too simple. Your beauty is intoxicating and I adore your ferocity. I want that in a wife."

He sat himself up, cupping her face. "I will wait as long as I can to marry this girl. I do not want her. I want you." She thought he would kiss her, but instead he pushed his fingers into her mouth, beckoning her to suck on them. She began doing so. He shoved them deep in, causing her to whimper and shut her eyes, which started to water at once. He liked this– he thrust them in and out until he must have grown bored.

He pulled her towards him, kissing her roughly. Her nightgown was done away with, her body bare for him. "I should have been your husband," he said, turning her onto her stomach and lifting her hips. When he drove into her, she nearly sobbed in delight. "I should be the one who fucks you on the Iron Throne, not Aegon. I wouldn't have had to be at Storm's End if I were the firstborn. Your father always preferred me to him, they only wed you to Aegon because it would make you Queen sooner."

"Don't talk," she begged. She wasn't the happiest with Aegon– he seemed to have gotten annoyed with her earlier– but she would not tolerate him speaking that way about her husband. He had to remember his place. "Fuck me, Aemond, fuck me, take your anger out on me."

Her face was buried in the pillow to contain the sounds she made. He was rougher than he'd been in a long time, especially rough for knowing she was with child. She liked how he gripped her bottom bruisingly tight, how he smacked it firmly and made it sting wonderfully. He tugged her hair, pulled her every which way he preferred. She adored it. She wanted to feel his anger.

The Small Council met the following morning. Aegon was positively bored and frustrated when told that their best move was to wait and see what Rhaenyra would do. He'd been upset, demanding that Rhysaenya's father tell him of what battles he was planning.

Karrhys had been in agreement with Otto– it was important that they prioritize their stability. As long as they held King's Landing and the Iron Throne, they had the advantage and their victory. They had to be patient, focus on political stability that would encourage the Realm to favor him rather than taking immediate military action.

He and Otto counseled giving their allies time to mobilize and move. Focus on formulating more alliances– perhaps they could yet convince the Tullys to have their bannermen support Aegon. If Rhaenyra had little to no supporters on the mainland, her cause was lost. What mattered most was keeping the dragons safe– let Rhaenyra make the first move, let the Realm see she was vicious and willing to let it burn. It was better to keep the dragons out of conflict, use them in a relatively peaceful manner if necessary. They were even recommending using Vhagar to do to Jeyne Arryn and Elmo Tully what Visenya had done to Sharra Arryn, using her dragon as a threat. Both houses were vulnerable in the skies even if they might find themselves defended on land.

Rhysaenya had been the one to pose an idea that could possibly be of use in securing the Stark and Martell support. Otto had taken her suggestion of offering Daeron's hand in marriage to one of Prince Qoren Martell's daughters. Her other plan, they had yet to think of. She hoped to ease the Stark burden of maintaining the Night's Watch by bolstering its strength with Ignividosi men. They could create a new requirement, having each Kingdom send at least ten men a year to the Wall, offering rewards to the families for raising their sons to the call. Something may yet come of it.

She watched Aegon hold court the next several days, having encouraged him to see what his people needed. She was hopeful that the Tyrells would agree to the terms and start sending food– everyone was already feeling the strain of rations under the blockade. The sooner support arrived, the better.

She could see the way Aegon was trying to meet everyone's needs. Otto would have to make him correct what commands he gave– at times, he was too generous. The first night after court, Aegon had been upset enough that he fucked her as roughly as Aemond had. Then, he'd cried and asked her why no one thought him smart, why they believed he should be King when they didn't trust a word that came out of his mouth.

Rhysaenya tried to console him, tried to say these men thought them all to be pawns. No one had taught Aegon to be King, though they'd dreamed of him as King for so long. It wasn't his fault. It would take time, but he was young and able, he would learn. She advised him to keep an open mind, to listen to his counselors, but to not always do exactly what they said. If he had doubts, it was better to question the why of it all instead of following blindly. Let them laugh, let them say he was not competent. In the end, he was still their King. They had made it happen. If they regretted it now, it was too late.

That had made him feel better. The day after that, he'd told the people that he deeply wanted to help them in their time of need, that he would ensure some of the rations kept for the castle were distributed to them. Against Otto's advice, he offered that any sick children suffering because of the rations were welcome in the castle, where the maesters would care for them. He promised them something was being done to alleviate their suffering. He asked them for patience and faith in him. Rhysaenya thought it made him look even more handsome, even more caring. She knew he had a good heart. Gods, how she admired it.

But it still wasn't enough to bring her to tell him she loved him. She wanted to, one of those nights after he held court. He'd been particularly gentle with a little girl who came with her father, a blacksmith, asking for shelter because she had a terrible cold. He'd stepped down from the Iron Throne and hugged her himself, asking Orwyle to attend to her immediately. Sometimes, the smallfolk forgot that the dragons did not grow ill as easily as common men– they'd been in shock that he'd seemingly risked his health to comfort the girl. But Rhysaenya knew he would have done it even if he could get sick– he comforted the twins that way whenever they cried.

He hadn't come to see her that night, however. It left her crestfallen, standing alone holding their babes and looking out into the city. She knew that if he hadn't come, he'd gone to the Street of Silk. It was starting to hurt her, seeing that she was not enough for him to be happy. The past days, Aemond had been distant emotionally– he had fucked her only that first night and not again. He no longer seemed to want to open up about what had happened. She wondered if she still wanted him, still craved him. She felt more at home with the peace Aegon brought her, with the laughter and sweetness. Motherhood had changed her, she thought. She did not want Aemond's wildness the same way she once had.

"Thank you for waiting," she told one of her handmaidens as she came to collect the children for bed. "They'll not be staying here tonight." If Aegon had come, perhaps they would have. She kissed them both on the forehead, caressing Jaehaerys's little hand as he reached out to her. "Good night, my sweet loves." She gave a nod to her handmaiden, sending her off.

The woman had only been gone a minute when Rhysaenya noticed she'd not taken the twins' blankets. With a sigh, she scooped them up and made for their room herself. It was their custom to be tucked in the same way each night– she would not disrupt it. At least she would save the girl a trip to come and collect them when she noticed.

The halls were quiet, devoid of many guards. She wondered if they'd been reassigned to the entrances into the castle. She only passed one as she neared the twins' room, a whole corridor away. Perhaps Aegon or Aemond had called them elsewhere. She half expected to see Aemond himself patrolling in that case, but she did not see him either.

The door was ajar already– perhaps the maid had only just arrived. Rhysaenya went in, about to say that she'd forgotten the blanket. Her words caught in her throat when she saw the woman with a knife at her throat.

A large, beefy man was taking the twins from her, a smaller scruffy man holding the blade. "They both look the same," the beefy man whispered. Behind them were all sorts of contraptions used by ratcatchers– what were they doing in here? "Which one's the boy?"

Rhysaenya did not know what to do, how to defend her children when they were in someone else's grasp– he could easily drop them and smash their heads into the ground if he so wished. The smaller man noticed her standing there, frozen. All these simulated battles, and nothing had prepared her for this.

Standing in her nightgown, she must not have looked very threatening. The small man slit the maid's throat, Rhysaenya's eyes widening as she watched the body fall, blood pouring onto the stone. "And who the fuck is she?" demanded the large man, as though blaming the small one for her presence– none of them were supposed to be there, she wagered.

"Wait!" The scruffy man stopped the beefy man from grabbing her. "She's the Queen, she is."

The beefy one immediately said, "Scream and you all die." As if she wouldn't have already been quiet, looking between the twins fearing what they had come here to do.

The small man opened his mouth into a slightly toothless grin. "Oh... the mother knows which is the boy." He pointed a knife at Jaehaera, beckoning her to come inside. "Shut the door, aye, nice and slow."

Scared for her children, she did what she was told. I am Ignividus, I should have their heads severed from their bodies already, even without a spear. But how can I risk my children? "You don't need to do this," she pleaded, hoping for mercy. "I beg you. I have– I have jewels, I have gold, I have anything you could possibly want."

"An eye for an eye, a son for a son," said the small man. "We only want one, t' square things. Won't hurt you or the girl, not one lil' hair. Tell us who's the boy."

She shook her head, eyes wild, this could not be happening. She knew what they had come here to do certainly now. "You've been sent because of Lucerys, haven't you? My children are innocent, please, please..." She started to cry. "If it is blood you want, then– then, kill me, not them. If you want to hurt Aegon, hurt me. Oh, you'll open a new wound in him... he may even kill Aemond himself if he thinks it was his fault I died." And you would hurt Aemond tenfold killing me instead of the babe.

"A wife's not a son," said the large man. "It has to be a boy."

"I may carry one in me now," she pleaded desperately. "You wish to help Rhaenyra's cause? Kill me, prevent me from giving him more heirs. I likely have another son inside me, please, please, please, I cannot lose my children."

The small man moved the knife towards Jaehaerys. She fought to not show any further fear that would let them know which of the two he was. "Pick," the large man insisted. "Or we kill them both and we'll finish with you." No, that would be torture beyond anything she could imagine, watching them both be gutted. They were so small, they barely fit in his giant arms.

"Will you let me take the one it isn't?" she asked softly. Helaena said she saw me holding a babe tight. This was the moment she saw, these were the rats Jaehaerys would play with. I cannot save him– if they think I am lying, they will rip their little clothes off and I'll not have them assaulted that way. If one must die, I will protect the other and I will kill these men with my bare hands the moment I've an opening. They will not walk away unscathed.

The smaller man turned the knife to her. She was scared to even risk trying to rip both babes away– how easy it would be for them to make her drop one, to cut the throat of one. She felt so powerless– did they not know she was Ignividus? Did they not see her as a threat?

She stepped forward carefully, the small man grabbing the back of her neck and placing a knife at her throat, as if to warn her against any moves. With tears in her eyes, she leaned down and placed a kiss on Jaehaerys's head. "I'm sorry," she sobbed. "I'm so sorry." She lifted her arms slowly, taking Jaehaera from the large man. "Please, if you must hurt him, do not give him pain. He's only a babe, only a babe..."

The man stepped away from her, the two turning their backs and moving to the nearest table. She knew this was her opening– she might yet save her boy.

She set Jaehaera down in the corner, where she was least likely to be trampled over. Rhysaenya grabbed at one of the ratcatching poles with a cage attached to it, swinging it hard and letting it smash into the back of the small man's head.

Dazed, he scrambled towards her with the knife, but she was ready. He was no warrior, he was only a peasant given a weapon. She caught his arm and ripped the knife away, following its progression to slash at his throat in one swift move. He staggered and tripped over the body of the maid, falling with his hands still clasped around his neck.

She was still too late. The large man had had his own knife, and in one move had severed Jaehaerys's tiny head from his body. He shoved past her right before she made for him, shoving the little head in a sack and running. He wouldn't make it very far.

She screamed out in fury, rage overtaking her as she threw the knife she was holding, lodging it into his thigh. He fell before he made it fully out the door, body collapsing halfway into the corridor. She ran at him, kicking his injured leg hard and ripping the blade out. He shielded his face, but it was the wrong choice to make. She didn't understand, in that moment, what possessed her. All she knew was that she started to slash and stab anywhere she could reach, flesh being ripped open before her eyes and blood pooling into the grout.

"Who sent you?" she snarled in his face. "Who sent you? Who made you do this to me?"

He was dying already, but he must have wanted the pain to stop, for he said, "D-Daemon. Prince Daemon..."

By the time the guards came, the man was dead. She moved away at once, taking the sack and withdrawing from it her son's head. She started to scream again, sobbing and hugging it to her chest as she ran to place it back on his body. What if the phoenix could bring him back? What if she called to it now? Could it bring her son back with all the blood she'd given it?

The guards themselves scooped up Jaehaera, who was bawling and demanding her mother's attention. Rhysaenya couldn't stand the crying– with still-bloody hands, she left Jaehaerys on the table and took her daughter, holding her tight to her chest and shielding her view from her brother's body.

Neither Aegon nor Aemond were the first to make it to her. It wasn't even her mother who came, or Helaena, or Alicent. It was Karrhys, his sword drawn as he entered the site of the massacre, four dead bodies and his daughter seated in blood, hugging Jaehaera and staring at nothing.

"What happened?" he asked, kneeling beside her. She could hardly speak, her throat was raw from crying and screaming.

She shook her head, eyes wide. "He told me... he told me Daemon sent them. An eye for an eye, a son for a son, they said. They killed my son. They killed my son, they killed my son!" She began to sob again, shaking her head. "They didn't see me as a threat, they should have never even thought to threaten my children knowing who I am, but it did not matter to them, they killed him anyway, they threatened their lives like I was nothing. I showed them... I showed them..."

He looked back at the bodies. "You did, my daughter. That rage you feel, it is the same thing Rhystli Ignividus felt for Maegor, after what was done to his parents. It is why we say 'With Fire We Return.' Do you understand this? You avenged your son. You did what you could. It is not your fault."

He put his hand on her cheek, a touch more gentle than she thought him capable of. "Listen to me, Rhysaenya, this is not your fault. Daemon did this, Daemon slaughtered your son. He went for an innocent babe because he was afraid of you, afraid of Aemond. This was a cowardly deed."

"Someone should have seen them," she whispered. "There were hardly guards. They crossed the moat unseen, Father, how else?" She looked over his shoulder as Ser Criston arrived. Her face twisted with rage, but her father reacted first.

"And where the bloody fucking hell were you?" snarled Karrhys. He advanced on him, towering over Ser Criston and grabbing him by the throat. "Where were you while my grandson was dying?"

Ser Criston tried to shove him off, but it required the help of the other guards– at last, Karrhys let him go. "I was abed, my lord," he said calmly, as if to not judge him for his reaction. "Having ordered the Night's Watch."

"You knew there would be retaliation, and you were abed?" Karrhys wasn't at all satisfied with his answer. "LOOK!" He grabbed the back of his head and forced him to look at Jaehaerys's body. "Your king's son has been killed! Look at my daughter– my daughter! Your fucking Queen! They have broken her heart, ripped away her child, I will not rest until the heads of every negligent guard serve as my footstools."

"I had left Ser Arryk in charge, I will question–"

"Do not shift the blame, Ser Criston, it is you who is Lord Commander. Gods, all of you are worth nothing. It is no wonder my daughter thought to install Ignividosi soldiers as members of the Kingsguard. Why do you remain the sworn protector of the Dowager Queen? You should have already become the sworn protector of your new Queen."

He jabbed a finger in Ser Criston's face, "I will kill everyone responsible for letting these men in and I will kill the guards that did not see it. I will gouge out their eyes and they will mourn for that which they did not use, resulting in the negligence that has torn my daughter. No one– no one harms my girl and lives to see another day. Do you understand me?"

Ser Criston's jaw was tight. He looked ever so slightly afraid. "I do, my lord."

"Good. Leave her sight, you are not worthy to stand in her presence."

Rhysaenya couldn't contain herself, still crying in awe at his defense. "You will mourn," said Karrhys, kneeling beside her again. "You will watch over your daughter. But a time will come when you will need to fly against the people who did this, Rhysaenya. You must be prepared for that. Until then... come. Let us leave this place."

He helped her to her feet, though she remained shaky. "I don't want to wait," she said under her breath. "I want them dead and I want them dead now. I will kill Daemon for this. I will kill him myself."

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A/N: Happy 200 pages! Comment for more.