Growing Pains

112 AC (Half a Year Later)

SER HARROLD WESTERLING HAD BEEN MADE THE LORD COMMANDER OF THE KING'S GUARD. Ser Ryman had recently passed, and his replacement wished to return the King's Guard to its proper number of seven. Gael had watched from the shadows as he went through possible candidates. The early portions were flown through. Obviously bad candidates were weeded out quickly. It slowed down as they got to the final options, which were scrutinized more closely.

"Who do you think they will choose?" Barra asked.

The two stood on the balcony overlooking the set of knights. Ser Harrold had left them there as he went to report to the Small Council. Gael squinted between them. None of the knights looked exceptional compared to the others. Perhaps they would fight each other, to prove their skill. Ser Oswyn said the only way you knew a knight's true quality was to see them in battle.

Sigil flags were propped up next to each knight. Gael studied them. Rosey would have done better, but she wasn't there to help. A month ago, Septa Marlow had been convinced to allow her to begin training under the faith in the Starry Sept.

Despite knowing she ought to be glad for her friend – after all the Starry Sept had been the seat of the High Septon for years and was the center of religious learning in the South – Gael still wished Rosey had not left. And not just because she was the most studious of them, though that was when her annoyance cropped up the most.

True friends were in short supply in the Red Keep. Plenty of girls were thrust upon them in an attempt to gain approval. Few actually wished to see Gael as a full human.

Gael was about to respond when the doors opened. Ser Harrold had arrived, with Rhaenyra behind him. The girls shared a look, then ran to meet the two.

"Father let you choose a knight?" Gael asked.

Gael loved her sister. Of course. But Rhaenyra couldn't even tell the difference between a longsword and a broadsword, and knew nothing about knightly endeavors. She was more likely to simply choose whoever looked the best.

"He wanted to get rid of me, it seems," Rhaenyra muttered.

"This is a good chance for you to assert yourself as heir," Ser Harrold assured.

There had been few of those since Rhaenyra's declaration. She remained their father's cupbearer with no voice. Daemon had been able to take over Dragonstone, traditionally the seat of the Targaryen heir, without any resistance. Every once in a while, Gael heard whispers about how Rhaenyra would not be the real heir. She was only a stand in until the king remarried and had a son.

No one respected her as heir. Not even their father it seemed, despite being the one who declared her heir in the first place.

"We can help," Barra said. "We know a lot about knights."

"You have read a lot about them, you mean?" Gael gave the girl a look.

Barra gave a sheepish smile. It was true. She was fond of stories and songs, and liked to believe most things worked as they did there. Perhaps it was a little silly, but there was a sweetness to it. Barra believed the world should be kind and good should perivale, and so she was kind and good in turn.

Rhaenyra only sighed.

"Why not?" Rhaenyra said. When Ser Harrold started to say something, she added, "I will make the final choice, of course, but a good ruler listens to advisors, don't they?"

Ser Harrold nodded. "That is true, Princess."

The three were led forwards. Rhaenyra was given a stool so she stood tall over the railing. In front of her were small figures, carved to represent each house. Gael and Barra, meanwhile, leaned against the railing to see over it. Ser Harrold moved the first figure onto the middle stand.

"Ser Desmond Caron," Ser Harrold announced. "A fine knight, Princess."

He ordered Ser Desmond forward. Gael watched as the man in orange and black stepped forward. From the corner of her eye, she saw Otto Hightower join them as Ser Harrold introduced the knight.

"Son of Ser Royce Caron, Ser Desmond has proven strong and steady in both the tourney lists and without," Ser Harrold said. "While traveling through the Kingswood on his way to King's Landing, Ser Desmond recently brought a would-be poacher to justice."

The man looked very pleased with himself at that announcement. Barra and Gael were less impressed.

"I suppose it is the duty of the Kingsguard to uphold the law," Barra admitted.

"Even if it is only a poacher," Gael added. She yelled over the bannister to Ser Desmond, "Was he armed, ser?"

The man blinked.

"Did you have to fight him, I mean," Gael clarified.

"Well...no," Ser Desmond admitted. "I suppose he understood his position well enough."

Gael turned to Rhaenyra and said, "I suppose it isn't really a show of his skills as a knight then, is it?"

Rhaenyra nodded. Otto leaned over and whispered something to her.

"We thank you for your loyal service to the Crown, ser," Rhaenyra suddenly said.

"Yes, we are all very certain that poacher would have been a great threat to the realm," Gael added.

Otto glared down at the girl.

"Perhaps Princess Rhaenyra would be helped by less distractions," Otto suggested.

"No," Rhaenyra said sharply. "They are advising me."

Rhaenyra turned to watch Ser Harrold place a new figure on the stand and announce a new knight (Ser Rymun Mallister.) Behind her back, Gael stuck her tongue out at the hand. Otto only scoffed and shook his head.

"Son of Lord Lymond Mallister of Seagard. Winner of the melee at Cider Hall," Ser Harrold announced.

"A battle?" Gael asked.

"No, a tourney melee," Barra clarified.

Gael sighed. Perhaps she had been a little too hopeful.

"He does have very lovely armor," Barra suggested.

"True. It matches his hair perfectly," Gael said, making Barra snicker. To Rhaenyra, she added, "I think he's too old."

At that the three turned to look at Ser Harrold, who looked at least ten years older than Ser Rymun. Rhaenyra raised an eyebrow at her sister. Gael only shrugged. Ser Harrold had been younger when he was appointed to the Kingsguard, and it was a lifelong duty. There was just a difference between choosing a knight in their old age and one growing old in the position.

"Do any of these knights have combat experience?" Rhaenyra asked. "Beyond capturing unarmed poachers."

Ser Harrold moved a new figure onto the stand. A long wooden pole. To Gael's surprise, she recognized the knight that stepped forward. Ser Criston Cole. He had beaten their uncle, Daemon, in the heir's tourney. It made Gael fond of him.

"Son of the stewart of the lord of Blackhaven," Ser Harrold said.

"Be welcome, Ser Criston," Rhaenyra said. She leaned forwards on the railing. "You saw combat in the Stormlands?"

"Dornish marches, Princess. I fought for a year as a foot soldier against the Dornish incursions," Ser Criston explained.

"Aren't you Dornish?" Gael pointed out. Rhaenyra gave her a sharp look, to which she protested, "Well, he is!"

"My family is of Dornish descent," Ser Criston admitted. "But we are loyal only to the King.

"I like him," Barra decided.

Gael nodded in agreement. She supposed it did not matter where he was from, as long as he protected her family. He seemed better prepared for that than the rest of their options.

"I choose Ser Criston Cole," Rhaenyra announced.

With that, she turned and began off the stool. Otto intercepted her attempt to leave.

"Let's not be too hasty, Princess," Otto said. "There's no doubt Ser Criston is a fine warrior, but houses Crakehall and Mallister are important allies of The Crown. Seagard, for instance, is the realm's prime defense against reavers from the iron islands."

Gael scoffed and leaned over the bannister.

"Ser Rymun, have you ever seen a reaver?" she called. The man only responded with silence, and Gael turned to Otto. "Then they must not be fighting that many, Lord Hand, if the only knight they can send has not even seen one."

Otto gave Gael a look like he was considering how quickly he could throw her over the bannister.

"These men are tourney knights. My father should be defended by a man who's known real combat," Rhaenyra said. "Should he not?"

"Of course, Princess," Otto said, after a pause.

"Well, let us plan Ser Cristion's investiture then."

Rhaenyra turned and walked away. This time no one moved to stop her.

˱ 𓈒 𓈊 ┈ 𓈒 ˲

"WHAT?"

Laena nodded, shuffling her feet. A week ago Gael had been informed Laena and Laenor would be coming to King's Landing, and they had only just arrived. The last time they had seen each other was the heir's tourney. That visit they had spent their time playing in the courtyard. They had made so many games that Viserys had started getting complaints about them being underfoot of everyone, and even more complaints from Septa Marlow that they were skipping lessons.

Yet it was fun, and that was what mattered, wasn't it?

Apparently not. It turned out this visit was for an entirely different reason. Lord Corlys wanted Laena to spend all of her time with the king.

"That's not fair!" Gael protested. "Who are we supposed to get to replace you? Laswell?"

"Laswell wouldn't be that bad," Barra said.

Gael narrowed her eyes at the girl. Laswell would be that bad. He was boring.

They had let him join them once, when they had decided to explore some of the Red Keep's secret passageways. Laswell had spent the entire time telling them what they were not allowed to do. They were not allowed to crawl through the smaller tunnels. They were not allowed to pretend to hunt for ghosts. In fact, they were not allowed to even be down there.

Eventually, annoyed, Gael had abandoned him in a corridor. Barra had gotten angry with her over that because, for some strange reason, she actually liked her betrothed.

Which is ridiculous. Marriage is stupid, and Barra is far too good for it.

"I apologize." Laena didn't sound too apologetic. "But do you know what this means?"

"You have to walk around and listen to Father talk about boring flowers?" Gael said. Or maybe he would make Laena look at his Old Valyria model.

"Well, yes...but I could ask him about Vhagar!"

That made Gael perk up. While Velaryons were not given dragons traditionally, as Targaryens were, Rhaenys had brought the Red Queen Meleys into the family. After that Laenor had been allowed his own dragon as well, Seasmoke. While they had tried to get Laena one as well, it had never succeeded, and the fact she was a daughter meant no one tried too hard.

Ever since she had learned about Vhagar, Laena had been determined to claim her. She was the last of the conquerors' dragons. Meraxes had died with the original Rhaenys in Dorne. Balerion the Black Dread had lasted just long enough for Viserys to ride him once, only to die a year later. This left Vhagar as both the oldest and largest dragon in the world. If Laena could find her, she would become the most powerful dragon rider since the conquerors.

"Then you could visit more, and we could all fly together," Gael said.

"Wait," Barra interrupted, having made a sudden realization. "Then who will stay with me?"

Right. They would all have dragons...except for Barra. She would never be allowed a dragon. For a moment that seemed like a large hole in their plan. Then Gael made a realization.

"Laena would have Vhagar," Gael pointed out. "You could ride with her. We all could ride with her, I would bet."

Barra brightened at that. She turned to give Laena a hopeful look. Laena quickly nodded. Not once did they seem to question why Lord Corlys wanted Laena to spend time with the king. After all, they were only children. All they cared about were games and dragons.

˱ 𓈒 𓈊 ┈ 𓈒 ˲

IT WAS EARLY MORNING WHEN THE SMALL COUNCIL WAS CALLED TO AN EMERGENCY SESSION. An ominous sign. Gael picked up whispers between the servants, but they only served to strengthen her curiosity.

In the end, Gael slipped into the Small Council hall. None of them noticed she was there. There was a slight creak from the heavy door, but they were more focused on their own work. A dragonkeeper was giving a report. There were some glances when she moved to stand next to Rhaenyra, but it seemed their current business was more important than shooing her out. That only made Gael more curious. They were so fond of shooing her – it must be grave if they didn't.

"Atroksio sȳndrorro massitas, āeksīs ñuhis, Masso Jēdunna. Laodikio īlot upȳdas," The dragonkeeper explained. (It occurred in the blackness of night, my lords, during the Hour of the Bat. The thief eluded our pursuit.)

The sisters shared a look. A thief in the Dragonpit? There was only one thing there worth stealing.

"Skorkydoso zaldrīzo drōmon tōmēpsa urneroti rȳ laodikson kōttas?" Viserys demanded. (How is it possible that a dragon's egg was stolen beneath more than fifty Dragonkeepers?)

"Dārilaros Daemon sikio sīdas, Eglivys Aōhys... Ziry ōdrikagon īlōnde umbitti." (It was Prince Daemon who was the culprit, Your Grace... We were loath to do him harm.)

Daemon? Gael frowned. Stealing an egg did not seem like him. Not that he was against causing problems, just that they were typically larger ones. Daemon Targaryen didn't do anything stealthily and he didn't shy away from taking the brunt of the consequences. There had to be something else. Something worse, so bad that even he had fled before it could unravel.

"The prince left a missive, which I believe might explain," Otto said.

Maester Mellos unfurled a slip of paper and read:

"It is the pleasure of Daemon Targaryen, the Prince of Dragonstone, and rightful heir to the Iron Throne —" Gael scoffed loudly, earning glares from some and an elbow to the ribs from Rhaenyra. "— to announce that he is to take a second wife, in the tradition of Old Valyria. She is to assume the title Lady Mystaria of Dragonstone. Her Grace is with child and is to have a dragon's egg placed in the babe's cradle in the custom of house Targaryen."

"The Prince has invited you to his wedding, Your Grace," Maester Mellos concluded. "It is in two days' time."

A second wife? Why would Daemon want a second wife? He didn't even like his first wife.

He had been married to Rhea Royce, and took any chance to express how he loathed her. His "Bronze Bitch" he called her. Even when banished to the Vale, it was rare Daemon visited Runestone, and Gael suspected they both preferred it that way. The only hint that their marriage had been anything but an unconsummated failure was an eight-year-old boy by the name of Ryland.

The thought of Ryland and Rhea, which Gael suspected game to everyone's mind, brought Daemon's claim of stealing the egg for a new child into question.

He had never stolen anything for his first-born son. In fact, Daemon had attempted to declare the boy a bastard and grounds for an annulment, before it came to light Ryland had at least the Valyrian hair. After that he had been happy to leave him entirely to his mother's care. Now they were meant to believe he cared deeply for this child? A true bastard?

"Who is Lady Mysaria?" Lord Corlys asked.

"We believe —" Maester Mellos began.

"Daemon's whore," Otto interrupted. "This is nothing less than sedition."

"I strongly agree, sire," said Lord Lyonal Strong, the Master of Law. He, of the council members, Gael respected.

"My brother wishes to provoke me," Viserys said. "To answer is to give him what he wants."

Except they couldn't ignore Daemon, either. That would give him something much more valuable: validation.

Gael glanced over at Rhaenyra. This wedding was declared under the name of the true heir. Already her sister was given little respect. To have Daemon running round, stealing her title, and all without any resistance? At best it would seem their father didn't care what happened to Rhaenyra's claim. At worst, it could be taken as support against her.

"The realm is watching, Your Grace," Lord Corlys warned.

"What would you have me do?" Viserys asked. "Send him to the Wall? Perhaps I could put his head on a spike."

Gael would not have protested sending him to the Wall. At least there he would have to make himself useful.

"Daemon has seized Dragonstone, has surrounded himself with an army of gold cloaks, and has now stolen a dangerous weapon —" Otto said.

He was interrupted by Rhaenyra. The first time, her voice was so quiet it was impossible to hear. Everyone turned to look at her. It was then that she spoke up.

"Skorior drōmon Daemon lāettas?" (Which egg did Daemon take?)

"Drōmon Ēdrurzo īles, Dārilaros," the dragonkeeper answered. "Dārilaro Baelo mazumbille iderēptā hēnkon luon." (The egg was Dreamfyre's, princess. The same that you chose for Prince Baelon's cradle.)

The reveal rippled through the room. There it was.

This was not about some bastard or their beloved mother. This was retaliation for Daemon's latest banishment, meant to wound the rest of his family. Even Gael, who held no love for the babe or his egg, could see it. At once Viserys stood.

"Assemble a detachment, Otto. I will go to Dragonstone and drag Daemon back to face justice myself," their father declared.

Viserys started for the door, but his Hand did not follow his orders. Instead Otto intercepted him.

"Your Grace," Otto said. Viserys stopped to face him. "My apologies, Your Grace, but I cannot allow it. It's too dangerous. Daemon is without limit. Let me go to Dragonstone."

The implications were unsaid, but known to all of them. He believed Daemon meant to lure the king out to kill him. The worst part was, Gael wasn't certain if she could deny it. It was instinctive to defend her blood. But the Targaryens were hardly known for their loyalty, and Daemon seemed to only use the concept to cover up his misdeeds.

Gael expected their father to protest. He often did when anyone implied their uncle may hold any form of ambitions. Yet Viserys remained silent. 

Author's Note: Physically I am writing this author's note. Spiritually and mentally, I am biting the HOTD producers for doing so little for the Velaryons. Like, yeah, I know they were already done dirty in Fire & Blood canon, but it's not just that they didn't include them or disrespected them. I mean, they did, but also they included so little space for them. I tried to include Laena and Laenor as much as possible, at least, but it's hard when they kick them back to High Tide and kill them off as soon as possible.

Also, I know not much happened in this chapter. I considered sending Gael to Dragonstone with Rhaenyra, because you know Daemon'd spend the night crying into poor Caraxes's wings about how "Rhaenyra brought her little sister and Viserys would never let him help like that ;-;", but it just didn't make sense.