Ravens brought words of death.

Life had been all that Dragonstone had seen for a span of weeks. Daenys had forgotten how sweet it was to hear a babe's cooing, Joffrey fairly calm and the subject of fascination with Alyssa and Gemma, who would have stolen him to take him into the skies if Rhaenyra had not done so on Syrax to 'bless' the babe the same way their own mother had blessed them.

The boys got along swimmingly. Aenar and Cliff were more than happy to teach Jacaerys and Lucerys, for being instructors was their next step to bettering themselves. The older boys were never so rough with them as Ser Criston Cole apparently was. Jacaerys was most fascinated with Daenys and Rolf as instructors. He'd heard enough about them from his mother and grandsire to know that they, and Daemon, were known well for their skill with swords.

He knew their nicknames– Daemon the Rogue Prince and his sister, Daenys Wildfire, sometimes called Visenya Reincarnate, though it seemed more often than not, that name was used in conjunction with Daemon. While he'd mellowed out some, many agreed that Daemon and Daenys remained two halves of Visenya's whole. One carried her anger and sword, the other her cleverness and strength.

He even knew what Rolf was called as a young man in the Riverlands. His brother Ernest had adopted for him the name 'The Rapid,' when Rolf had proven adept with swords, for he was as fast and lethal as a violently-running stretch of water. Unpredictable, dangerous, and still somehow full of life. Bertram had made a note of the conversation, claiming he would one day write about the great swords in House Targaryen, and would include his father for having married in. Aenar and Cliff, of course, would receive mentions as soon as they demonstrated their ability in battle.

(They insisted their time would come. They knew of Daenys's time in the Stepstones and Rolf's many battles in the Riverlands resolving conflicts, most notably between houses Blackwood– where his nephew's wife hailed from– and Bracken. Even some months prior, he'd gone to Riverrun to speak with Elmo about an ongoing dispute between the houses. Aenar and Cliff might've been escorted there by Daenys to wet their swords alongside their parents if the situation had worsened, but Elmo ruled Riverrun in all but name and handled the matter faster than old and ailing Lord Grover would have.)

Daenys felt for Jacaerys when the first raven arrived, informing them of the deaths of Lord Lyonel Strong and Ser Harwin Breakbones, in a strange fire that occurred at Harrenhal. She, Rolf, Rhaenyra, and Ser Laenor all suspected something amiss, but did not disclose the truth to the children. Jacaerys and Lucerys had grieved for the man they believed to be a faithful and kind mentor, though Daenys knew Jacaerys was old enough to see more to what Harwin had been. The boy was silent, but he mourned his father. Gemma had lulled him to sleep with a song that first night, ever a gentle companion.

Rhaenyra had written for her father to name Daenys his Hand. Her words came too late, for the Queen had already convinced him to bring Otto Hightower back from Oldtown. How she managed it, Daenys did not know. Perhaps time had convinced Viserys to forgive Otto, as he and Daenys had always forgiven Daemon, in the end. (Admittedly, Daenys had never fully forgiven Daemon for what he tried to do before she conceived Bertram.)

She worried about Viserys being so trusting of him again. Bringing Otto back to court gave him further leave to keep scheming. The problem was not solved simply because Rhaenyra was grown. Whether he remained blind to it or not, Rhaenyra's claim was not as secure as they might like it to be. The more Aegon grew and the weaker Viserys became, the more the succession continued to be questioned.

The worst news came from Pentos, news that Daenys did not wish to ever receive. Laena had died attempting to bring a third child into her and Daemon's family. The babe would not come, and rather than succumb to a bleed in the birthing bed, she chose to embrace fire, begging Vermithor to free her of her pain. Her body would be brought to bury in Driftmark. A funeral would be had in some weeks, once those invited made it for the solemn event.

"We will go alone," said Daenys, seated on Rolf's lap feeling his hands rub circles over her shoulders while they watched the children ride their dragons together, Vermax and Jacaerys the newest additions to the group. "The children must stay here."

"No," said Rolf, cupping her face. "If you say it because of Otto Hightower, do not let that be the reason."

She gave him a significant look. "Aenar has no proper memory of him. But if he sees him and happens to see himself..."

"It has been ten years. Otto will be aged, as we are, though your dragonblood may save you from the wrinkles. It will be suspicious if we do not bring them, or if we leave all our children here. It will be good for them to pay their respects publicly and comfort their cousins. Our children have been out of the public eye for a long time, the realm must not forget they have four dragon riders fiercely supportive of Rhaenyra and one clever boy who does not shy away from telling the truth as he sees it."

Still, she chewed on her lip. She knew Rolf always acknowledged Aenar and Alyssa as his children, but worried for the day her twins would learn of the rumors and ask whether Otto Hightower was their father. She worried Aenar was smart enough to figure it out for himself, especially if he saw Otto Hightower properly. Worse, Otto might finally become aware of it– if he wasn't already, though she doubted he was, otherwise he would have never let her forget he knew– and question her directly. He'd never given Rolf problems before, but he might begin to if he convinced himself he knew and Rolf didn't, same as Daemon tried to do.

"Come on," insisted Rolf. "Aenar is my son, he acts like me as much as he acts like Otto. I raised him, not that Hightower cunt. I myself could look like a Hightower if my hair were lighter. My mother was a Frey and her mother was a Mullendore of the Reach, quite near Oldtown. Side by side, Aenar and I look perfectly like father and son."

That much was true. They had the same mannerisms as well. She relented, "Very well. But we do not let Otto be alone with them. We don't let any of them be alone with him... those Small Council members grow greener by the day. I fear our only true supporter now is Lord Lyman Beesbury himself, and he's grown hard of hearing. We cannot trust anyone at Driftmark. Only Rhaenyra's family and Rhaenys's. Even Daemon... I don't want them to happen upon him alone."

"Don't worry," said Rolf. "Nothing is going to happen at Driftmark. Our three eldest have sharp tongues and firm fists, our second youngest is a peacemaker, and, well, you know our Bert."

Daenys smiled. "Our little boy. That one would make Otto go mad with the shame of stupidity if they were to begin talking history. Bertram is too clever for his own good. Though, I fear he will be indisposed on Driftmark with Helaena so near. I know you and I never wanted them to marry into the family, yet..."

"If it is his choice, I will be happy for him. It would help us... for what is to come. If that were to become anything serious, it keeps Aegon from a bride of dragon blood that would otherwise strengthen his claim. Dreamfyre would never fly to battle, but the girl loves riding, and that great beast would fly with our dragons as kin. I'd be glad for Helaena to marry him and keep him close. I will be sad if he goes to become a maester at the Citadel, we'd like not see him very often, or ever again."

"Oh, he'll come see us," she said, pecking his cheek. "He's to write a book about great swordsmen and women, followed by another book about the impact of Targaryen women. He'll need to interview us about our youth soon enough." She nuzzled her nose to his, her dear husband of near fifteen years. She never thought she'd be happy, that she'd find a husband who'd love all of her, sword and wit and tongue attached, even if they all slashed and wagged as they pleased.

For the sake of boasting her family's strength, she advised them all to arrive at Driftmark with their dragons. Ser Laenor, in his grief, chose to remain on the ship with Rolf, Bertram, Lucerys, young Joffrey, and Laenor's close friend, a household knight named Ser Qarl Correy. Arrax and Seasmoke flew riderless above, Rhaenyra and Daenys in the center with Syrax and Vhagar, their children and the dragons' own hatchlings flying with: Jacaerys on Vermax, Aenar on Aegarax, Alyssa on Frostbite, Cliff on Goldhorn, and Gemma on Starbeam.

Dreamfyre and Sunfyre were present, but Tessarion was absent, as it seemed Daeron had been sent to Oldtown once it was known his grandfather would be returning to serve as Hand. Daenys lamented she would not see the kind little boy named after her. For his last birthday, she'd sent him a sword of his own, and he'd written back to thank her, saying he hoped to be a knight like her and win tourneys though he was nearly the youngest of the cousins.

She noted that Meleys was there, and Vermithor was supposedly lurking on the isle already, but Daemon and his girls were not yet here with the body from Pentos. "My dear cousin," said Daenys, kissing and hugging Rhaenys when she saw her. She let the hug linger for a while, hearing Meleys's mourning cries of both sorrow and greeting as they docked.

She felt Rhaenys sob against her, and Daenys knew that her dear cousin had never hurt more. She'd already endured the death of both her parents, who she'd remembered vividly. She'd lost Jaehaerys and Alysanne, aunts and uncles that Daenys either never met or hardly knew, and now she'd lost her little girl.

Daenys knew that if anything ever happened to her own children, the world as they knew it would burn. Rhaenys must have restrained herself because of Laenor and to remain strong for Laena's girls. Rhaenys had always been the strongest of them.

"Lord Corlys," greeted Daenys. She hugged her cousin's husband as well, though Lord Corlys was much better at hiding his grief. One by one, her children greeted the couple, expressing their condolences. Gemma offered Rhaenys a handkerchief she'd made, bearing gold, red, and green thread spelling Laena's name. To Lord Corlys, her sweet girl offered a tiny oar she'd carved herself of a branch, as small as a handheld mirror, but etched to bear Laena's name as well. She'd made another for Laenor, who'd much appreciated it.

Daenys was glad not to see Otto until the funeral. She'd easily convinced her children not to be running around the castle, out of respect for the mourning period of the Velaryons. To Aenar and Alyssa, she disclosed the importance of not trusting anyone they didn't know– Targaryen and Velaryon or not. Her apartments were spacious, and the five entertained themselves within the rooms and in the yard, no one ever alone. Aenar, Cliff, and Alyssa trained with her while Bertram and Rolf read, Gemma spending nearly all her time in Helaena's room, but often reading to Viserys once Daenys and Rhaenyra joined them in the evenings.

Whether intentionally or by chance, Aegon and Aemond never joined them in the yard. Perhaps Alicent had warned her boys about training under Daenys or perhaps they, too, were being confined to prevent any unruly behavior. Cliff still found his ways to communicate with Aemond, though he often came running back to the apartments to avoid being seen by the Queen. He avoided Ser Criston Cole as well, though reported to his mother that Cole's nose had never healed properly after the kick she gave him the night of Rhaenyra's wedding.

"Brother." Daenys embraced Daemon tight, for now all forgiven once she saw his solemn face stepping off his ship. He had his arms around his girls, near-identical twin girls who looked very much like Laena. She knelt in front of them, cupping their faces. "My darlings." It had been a few years since she'd last seen them. "I am very sorry for your loss."

"Father says you both lost your mother, too," said Baela quietly. "He says we will never forget it."

"No, you won't," agreed Daenys. "I don't remember her at all, but I remember my father and I remember his death. It stays with you, but... I find it will be a good thing to hold her in your heart. You have her blood and her strength. Let her guide you. She had wings and fins, your mother, she ruled the skies and the seas and anywhere you find those things... you will find her."

She kissed their foreheads, giving special attention to the much quieter Rhaena with a second hug. She looked up at Daemon, who smiled weakly. "Sister," he murmured. "It is good to see you again."

"As it is good to see you," she said. She meant it honestly, though a part of her was still wary of him and his intentions. Fatherhood had mellowed him out in the slightest. He protected his girls fiercely. She'd already heard rumor that Rhaenys wished to foster the girls here on Driftmark, but Daemon had refused fervently, for he'd not be contained there, and his daughters belonged with him. Baela had a dragon already, a small thing named Moondancer. Rhaena's own egg had hatched and birthed a dragon that did not survive many hours, but he hoped to see her claim a beast as well.

The following afternoon, the funeral was held. Daenys stood with her children, in line with her family. Vaemond Velaryon officiated the ceremony once Laena's burnt body had been placed in a stone coffin bearing her closest likeness– Daenys lamented that it didn't look more like her. Laena would be buried in the sea like a Velaryon, but had been burned like a Targaryen. It felt fitting, though it would have been better for her to live. To know her daughters and keep filling the world with her fire.

"Tubī Velario Lentro," said Vaemond, "Ābrāzme Laene iēdrarta mōrqittot, māzīlarē tubirri Elēdrion ziry umīsilza luo dāriot, hannagon Embrurliot gierūlti. Solion tolijor zijosy pradarose, Ābrāzma Laena rāeniot hen eglio ilvot lanto taloti hembis. Pōja muña hen zȳho solio āmāzīlus daor, yn ānogrosa gierī ozletaksi humbilza." He seemed to glare in the direction of Rhaenyra– Viserys noticed it, too, "Velario ānogro rȳ lopor ojāris. Īlvo qumblī iāris. Īlvo drējī iāris. Se dōrī vajiñagon īlvo bēvilis." Daemon dared to chuckle. "Talus mandus ñuhus. Inkoso kostōbāpis aōhis jelmīs sagon, gīso lykāpas aōhas embis, se prūmȳsa lēdāpas aōhas manengīs. Hen embār masti. Va embrot āmāzīli."

(T: We join today at the Seat of the Sea to commit the Lady Laena of House Velaryon to the eternal waters, the dominion of the Merling King, where He will guard her for all days to come. As she sets to sea for her final voyage, the Lady Laena leaves two true-born daughters on the shore. Though their mother will not return from her voyage, they will all remain bound together in blood. Salt courses through Velaryon blood. Ours runs thick. Ours runs true. And ours must never thin. My gentle niece. May your winds be as strong as your back, your seas be as calm as your spirit, and your nets be as full as your heart. From the sea we came. To the sea we shall return.)

She stood nervous, watching the men push the stone coffin off the dock. Behind Alicent stood Otto, who had not paid her any mind thus far. He'd arrived only this morning, the last of them to come from the furthest point. He toyed with the Hand's pin that ran down his black cloak, rippling in the wind.

Rolf was right, he did look much older now. His skin sagged much like her husband's did, and her own would soon. Thin wisps of hair lingered on his head, but the color seemed closer to grey than red. Otto was nine years older than Daemon and Rolf, making him twelve years her senior. Yes, age had hidden fairly well any resemblance Aenar or Alyssa might have noticed. The one who worried her was the observant Bertram, who stared at Otto ever so often, for no apparent reason.

They gathered on a stone terrace branching out of a lower floor of High Tide, looking out into the sea. The dragons flew freely around, save for the mourning Vermithor and too-tired Vhagar. She knew Alyssa and Cliff would've snuck away to fly if they hadn't been under strict instruction to observe their courtesies.

Otto stood with Viserys as Daenys brought her children to greet him, her brother's travels having been ailing him enough that he'd only just presented himself for the funeral. "Brother," said Daenys, pretending Otto was not even there. He took the hint and slipped away. "It is good to see you again." She put her hands on the shoulders of her offspring, presenting them anew, "Aenar and Alyssa have grown almost two whole heads since you last saw them. Cliff and Gemma are nearing their growth spurts as well. Bertram will follow soon enough."

Viserys beamed, though it seemed to pain him. His wrinkled and trembling hand reached out to shake the youthful ones that Daenys's children bore. "You all have your mother's beauty," said Viserys. "As you do her and your father's love of books and swords."

"I take offense to not being called 'beautiful,'" said Rolf, ever jesting. He grinned when Viserys managed a wheezing laugh. "Though, I cannot claim to be as handsome a man as our realm's sire."

"Ever the flatterer," said Viserys, though he tapped his hand affectionately. He'd always liked Rolf. Daenys thought that Viserys sometimes wished that Daemon was more like Rolf, still a great warrior and able leader, but so devoted to his family that he never once hurt them with any schemes. The house of the dragon needed more men like Rolf; she knew she'd made a good choice instilling Tully values onto her little hatchlings. "Perhaps we might discuss your return to the castle. The young lads miss your instruction. I wish... for you and Daemon to return to King's Landing, Daenys. That is your true home."

She glanced at Rolf, who gave her the look she knew well to mean that it was her choice. He was content anywhere that wasn't Riverrun. "We will ponder on it," said Daenys. "I'm certain my children would enjoy King's Landing, though they are accustomed to the quiet of Dragonstone." She squeezed Viserys's hand. "How are your children?"

It pained her to see his eyes glisten in a lack of recognition. He didn't know what to say about them. "They are well," he said at last. "Rhaenyra, you've seen her recently. Helaena is a sweet girl, as I remember your Gemma being. The boys are boys."

The boys, you hardly know, you mean. Perhaps Alicent doesn't let you know them, or perhaps you do not care to know them. I told you to stop after Helaena, I told you not to worsen Rhaenyra's circumstances. You chose to give her three more brothers that would fall above her in the traditional line of succession.

Daenys half-smiled. "That they are. The hour grows late, brother. I must see my children to bed." She leaned down to kiss him, ushering the others away. Otto and Alicent, even Vaemond Velaryon and surprisingly the new Lord of Harrenhal, Clubfoot Larys Strong, watched them go. What business they last two had staring at her, she didn't know.

She hadn't seen Rhaenys as she made her departure. After leaving her children to bathe themselves and change into their nightclothes, she left the apartments in search for her cousin, who sat alone by the hearth in her room, staring into the flames and holding the handkerchief Gemma had made for her.

Silently, Daenys slipped in and sat beside her, offering her hand. Rhaenys took it firmly. "Daemon refused our wish to have the girls fostered here," murmured Rhaenys. "He aims to take my granddaughters back to Pentos. Laena wished to come home, and he denied her. He always decided for everyone, always did what was best for him."

"Perhaps I can convince him to reside on Dragonstone," offered Daenys. "His girls need other children their age right now. My children and Rhaenyra's will comfort them. Baela will eventually take flight on Moondancer, it is better she is surrounded by young dragonriders. I can bring them to visit you if Daemon won't. And you are always welcome on Dragonstone, as full as it is becoming."

Rhaenys drifted her thumb over Daenys's palm. "I must ask you a question, cousin. You, who has always looked after your family, who has always sought the truth. Rumors were never far from my ears, though I left court long ago. Is it true that you left because of Rhaenyra's... moments with Ser Harwin Strong?"

Daenys gave her a significant look, letting her answer that herself. "I left most recently because young Aegon was behaving inappropriately with my daughter. There was a fight. Before then... there was tension between my niece and I, for often many don't wish to see truths until it is too late. It doesn't matter anymore."

"But it does," said Rhaenys. "Those boys are not Laenor's."

"Not for lack of trying. Though I might say the efforts were insufficient, they both assured me that they tried. He has raised them as his own, the boys love him and call him 'Father.' Rhaenys, you know as well as I do that the Realm would still oppose her even if she'd given birth to trueborns. She is a woman and they will always hold that against her. I agree... this did little to help her claim. But vipers slip poison easily into the ears of those already tilting their heads to listen."

"My concern is no longer for the Iron Throne. I stopped caring about that ages ago. I worry for Driftmark. I wish for the seat of High Tide to pass to Baela. To true Velaryon blood."

Her face fell. "Rhaenys... no, that is not the answer. I understand wishing to honor Laena, to consider your closest kin... but like or not Corlys has always affirmed Lucerys as heir to Driftmark. The boys are not at fault for Rhaenyra's sins, and if Laenor claims them as his, it does little to help anyone if the boys are set aside."

"I don't care who it helps anymore," said Rhaenys bluntly. "I am exhausted, Daenys. Time and again we have been undervalued because we had no cocks. You endured Daemon for most of your life, you fought against his wishes to make you submit to him. I found freedom here with Corlys. I love my son, but he will be King Consort, he's no need of Driftmark. Lucerys will still be second in line for the Iron Throne. What of Laena? Where does her legacy go?"

She pursed her lips. "I can think of several places. Ways to keep the peace, for the sake of the children, yet still honor Laena. Rhaenyra's sons will need their own strong allies when they ascend, for we know that war is already to come with her own ascension. I propose you betrothe Jacaerys to Baela and Lucerys to Rhaena. Baela will rule alongside Jacaerys as Alysanne did with our grandsire. Rhaena and Lucerys together will rule Driftmark and command great power at sea, dragonriders or not. More Targaryen-Velaryons will be born of that, to be sure, and our family will be the better for it."

Rhaenys shook her head. "Once, long ago, you came with the idea of wedding Rhaenyra to Laenor. In the end, it happened by force."

"It is not my fault for the way of things, cousin, I hope you know that. Would that I'd been able to settle the matter myself. I tried my hardest to make Rhaenyra see reason in it. I did what I could. I have helped her as much as I can and in recent weeks, she has finally begun to accept that help. This will help the both of you. This will honor Laena without setting Laenor and the boys aside. I am sure Corlys would prefer it as well. You know me, I've never liked the idea of marrying within the family, but you must agree that this resolves both dilemmas."

"It may," agreed Rhaenys. She didn't seem too happy about it, but Daenys knew she was considering it. "As always, you remain the most selfless in the family. You always look to everyone's needs and never your own. Tell me true, cousin, if it were entirely your choice... would you leave it all behind?"

"Yes," said Daenys without hesitation. "I would take my family to Essos and never be seen here again. I'd leave behind Rhaenyra with her choices, Daemon with his selfish ideals, Viserys with his willful ignorance. But I cannot bring myself to do it. My children believe in the same thing I do. I will stop at nothing to make sure Rhaenyra sits her father's throne. I do it for myself, for you, for Alyssa, Jocelyn, Alysanne, all the women who would have either sat the throne or stood beside it and still been undervalued no matter how much they managed. I do it to show my daughters that they are not limited by their sex, to teach my sons to appreciate everyone for their wit rather than manhoods dangling between their legs. To give up this fight is not only to give up on my family, it is to give up on women. I cannot do it, Rhaenys."

"You know, then, that we may all die for it?"

"I do know," said Daenys. "I am prepared to die for Rhaenyra, I always have been. She is my first child, that I've not forgotten. I will defend her with my life."

Rhaenys closed her eyes, thinking of her own daughter and what Laena might've said now.

_

A/N: Sorry for the lack of updates, work has been terrible. On this note, the political landscape is also stressing me out. I grieve for all the women of our country. But I swear to you, we will not stop fighting to be seen as equal, we will not stop fighting for our rights. Don't lose hope. We will make it through.