None could have hoped to console Rhaenyra.

The quiet of Dragonstone was eerie upon Daenys's return. Jacaerys was the only one of the envoys who'd returned by then, the Vale closest to their fortress. Currently, Rhaenys was in the skies over the Gullet, patrolling the spread of her husband's ships to choke off trade two and from King's Landing.

She was told by Elinda that when Rhaenyra learned of what befell Luke– rather, who, for it had been Aemond and Vermithor that descended upon them, the boys happening to both be at Storm's End at the same time– she collapsed. Joffrey, only nine, had sworn an oath of vengeance against Prince Aemond and even Lord Borros, who had now declared for Aegon and done nothing to stop Lucerys's death. Joffrey would have mounted his own dragon were he not so young.

Daenys knew that if Alyssa and Cliff had been here, one or both of them would have chased Aemond to the ends of the Wall without hesitation. Vermithor or not, Frostbite and Goldhorn would have ripped well into the dragon. On land, Cliff and Alyssa together stood a sure chance of defeating Aemond– Cliff alone believed himself capable of shredding him to bits. Daenys might've done it for them, and taken to Vhagar again had Rhaenyra not begged her to stay.

Rhaenyra had to know, had to find a piece of her boy. Daenys did not blame her. From a distance, in case Aemond was near, she followed Rhaenyra, who had mounted Syrax despite the deep pain lingering from Visenya's birth. Daemon had already promised vengeance from Harrenhal, even adding a note for Daenys that Rhaenyra need only say the word, and the two of them would take Caraxes and Vhagar to kill Aemond and Vermithor. Their deaths would be a small price to pay if it meant robbing the Greens of their greatest advantage. But Daenys knew it wasn't what Rhaenyra wanted.

It'd been on one of the beaches of Storm's End where they found pieces of Luke and Arrax. A dragon's wing, the boy's torn cloak red with his own blood, both pulled from the sea after the storm that'd raged the night Aemond chased after him and killed him. Daenys wasn't sure if Aemond had acted on that impulse or been unable to control the Bronze Fury; it didn't matter. The first member of the Greens that would need to die would have to be Aemond. Daemon promised Rhaenyra a son for a son... what better son to die than the one that posed the greatest threat?

Rhaenyra had shut herself up in her room after they made it back to Dragonstone, having sat for hours in the sand while the waves lapped at her knees, in her arms the pieces of her boy. Gemma had cried with Daenys that day, after her patrol of Dragonstone.

Seeing Rhaenyra finally accept Lucerys's death had brought the same acceptance upon Gemma, who was once more furious knowing what Aemond had done. Dyana and Starbeam were her sole comfort but neither had the power to bring Lucerys back. Aemond's outburst came as little surprise to Dyana, who said that while Aemond had never abused the girls the way Aegon had, he was more vicious with his words and quick to act when angered.

"This isn't right," said Gemma, laying her head on Daenys's lap while her mother stroked her hair. Rhaenyra had still not emerged from her room a day later. "Luke was a boy. He should not be dead."

"I know, my dearest love," said Daenys softly. "It is the way of war... I wish this had never come onto you. To any of you."

Gemma had been doing her part with the patrols, preferring that to being involved in any other way. She had prepared a signal to send, for she was an excellent archer even in the sky. She'd fire arrows down at the watchtowers to alert of any disturbances, immediately signaling without need to lower herself from a secure position. It comforted Daenys that that also meant Gemma could more easily flee from an attack.

But of late, she sensed her girl was leaning towards participating rather than running away. Little by little, she watched her daughter's eyes darken and her voice harden as she spoke of death, as she thought of the war that had reached them. Daenys feared that further losses would only push Gemma over the edge.

A knock sounded at the door. "Come," Gemma called weakly, for they were in her chambers. One of the guards arrived, "Princess, my lady. Lady Alyssa has landed on the Dragonmount."

Gemma and Daenys sat up immediately. Gods, Alyssa. It was a miracle Alyssa was here at all. Perhaps she'd not heard of Lucerys's death, what with flying to the Twins and then Winterfell and back.

They rushed out to find her, but at the sight of her knew that Alyssa had chosen restrain herself, now that Aenar was too far away to do it for her. Were it Alyssa's choice, Aemond would be dead already and his head mounted on a spike.

"I will kill him for this," said Alyssa venomously when she reached them. "I will kill him. Gods, he is a craven little cunt. A fifteen-year-old boy... cowardly, craven, cunt!"

"Alyssa, please," pleaded Gemma tearfully. Daenys didn't know if she was begging her sister to quiet down or begging her to do it.

Alyssa scrunched up her face, but turned away as if to stop her tears. She took several moments breathing deeply, even as Daenys came to hug her from behind. "He was just a boy," whispered Alyssa. "A little boy. He was Luke, he was sweet Luke. Luke only ever hurt him because he wanted to defend Jace, he never... gods, if I had been there that night, it never would have happened. I would have seen it about to happen, I would have stopped it. Cliff and Bert, they didn't know. They couldn't have known. I would have."

"None of this is your fault," insisted Daenys. "Not your fault, not Gemma's. My dears, I know how much this hurts. But there is no sense in finding yourself guilty for this. This goes far beyond." It's my fault, if anyone's. I should have killed Otto. I should have tried harder to stop Viserys from having more children after Helaena– I could have poisoned Alicent to make her infertile, or poisoned him to do the same. There were ways I never thought of. Maybe Daemon was right, I should have sabotaged the children when I had the chance.

"What of the Freys?" asked Gemma weakly. "What did you manage?"

"They will support Rhaenyra," murmured Alyssa. "Frostbite gave them a fright. I went to White Harbor before I made for Winterfell. I spoke with Lord Manderly... he said that King Jaehaerys had offered him the hand of Princess Viserra, but the promise never bore fruit. I sort of... promised his youngest daughter to Joff."

"An understandable proposition," said Daenys. "I do remember my father mentioning Viserra might've married a Manderly. Their port will be helpful to us, especially if you had success with Cregan."

At this, Alyssa's face turned quite red. Daenys raised a brow. Cregan Stark, she knew, was one-and-twenty to Alyssa's twenty. They were of age, and Rhaenyra had not been wrong– everything Daenys had heard about young Cregan made her believe he'd like a girl like Alyssa, who was blunt and mighty, with and without her spear in hand or a dragon beneath her. She knew the boy had been married before, though his wife had died in childbirth.

"They all liked Frostbite at Winterfell," said Alyssa carefully. "They thought she looked as though she came from the North. Cregan and I spoke at length. He took me to the Wall. He pleaded his greybeards to us... we have the North."

"And?" Gemma, too, suspected there was more. Alyssa had never worded things so precisely nor had she grown so flushed speaking of a boy. Normally, Daenys had to worry that Alyssa said too much.

Alyssa pressed her lips together. "I... am betrothed to Cregan." Gemma gave a gasp, covering her mouth. "I promised myself to him. I would have married him then, but I did not have Rhaenyra's leave, and I wished for at least Mother and Father to be at the ceremony."

"Betrothed!" Gemma almost smiled in spite of her grief. "Lys, you're going to marry?!"

"I will," said Alyssa, still red-faced. "When the war is over, Frostbite and I will go to live at Winterfell."

Daenys had a feeling there was more to it, but did not press her then. "I am proud of you, my girl," she said, kissing her temple. "I assume he beat you in combat?"

"He did," said Alyssa. "That Valyrian steel sword of his, Ice, it's magnificent. My spear stood no chance. As for the snow, well, it's quite hard to fight in the snow. I managed as much as I could when we sparred, the Northerners liked it. But in the end I had to surrender."

It was Gemma who surprisingly asked, "As for other fights?"

Alyssa was close to crimson. "I... may have explored that as well."

"Lys, you didn't!"

"Perhaps. But please don't tell Father or Aenar, they'll be disappointed that I was so impulsive about it."

Disappointed, no. Amused, more like. Daenys knew that while Rolf would be initially surprised to hear his daughter had lost her maidenhead before being married, he'd not shun her for it. He might wish– same as Daenys– that she'd waited and been more careful, but they had learned long ago that there was no taming Alyssa. As for Aenar, well, he would probably find it unbelievably funny that she lost her maidenhead on her first trip alone. What else could they have expected, putting her alone in a room with Cregan Stark?

"My sweet, impulsive girl," said Daenys, hugging her once more. "I do hope you were alright? Comfortable and safe? That you at least enjoyed yourself?

"I was alright, and comfortable and safe, and I did... enjoy it very much." She seemed more content now that she'd seen them react so well. "He was... so gallant. Gentle and strong. We liked each other a great deal... I think I may very much enjoy this marriage. Don't worry, I took a tansy tea afterwards. I will not sit out of this fight."

Daenys wondered if Cregan, an honorable Stark, had truly been alright with taking her maidenhead without them being wed. She suspected that perhaps they were wed in the Northern fashion, privately in a godswood with only the Old Gods as witness. Alyssa probably didn't believe that counted, but Cregan would. Gods, her little girl was truly all grown now.

That afternoon, now that Alyssa had returned, they had a small funeral for Lucerys. In the pyre, Rhaenyra laid some of his clothes. Gemma, Bertram, and Alyssa stood with Jacaerys and Joffrey, while Daenys held Rhaenyra's hand, the group of them remaining until the sky darkened and the fire had nearly burned out.

She wrote letters to her brother, her husband, and both her sons to tell them of this. Rhaenyra was far from being out of her grief, but she had emerged again and was ready to participate in Small Council meetings anew. She wished all of them well, she hoped to see them again soon. If Cliff hadn't returned by now, she expected her son was going to stay in the Riverlands helping his cousin Elmo with calling his banners.

Her boy had always preferred being in the thick of war, while Bertram was still content with the stack of books that he needed to get though before the next day's meeting. She worried the boy's head would explode holding so much knowledge, but Bertram drank it up like most men downed wine. In the same way Cliff seemed to enjoy blood.

With ravens instead of dragons, Daenys took command of setting the story straight. Witnesses at Storm's End had seen Aemond and Vermithor chasing after Lucerys and Arrax. Sailors had found pieces of the boy and his dragon, savaged in a way only a dragon so large could manage.

If Otto had been smart, he might've tried to spread word that Aemond had been elsewhere when it happened, that he'd come straight home, that something like this was more like to be the work of a wild dragon, perhaps the Cannibal. But there was no such story stirring, and it fell to Daenys to call Aemond what he was– a Kinslayer.

It seemed, however, that there was another much closer to them. Daenys had kept Daemon's words swimming in her head, the words he'd written in his scrawl to promise Rhaenyra revenge. 'An eye for an eye, a son for a son. Lucerys shall be avenged.' She'd been so preoccupied keeping Rhaenyra, Jacaerys, and Joffrey sane, helping her own daughters through their grief and only quietly mourning with herself the passing of Viserys and murder of Lucerys, that she never gave her brother's words a second thought. She never thought to wonder how he was going to see this revenge done.

She assumed Daemon would challenge Aemond himself, would come one day and ask Daenys to join him, wherein she'd have to calm him down and insist Rhaenyra did not wish for this. Daemon knew that, he'd always known it. Still, more often than not, Daemon did what Daemon wanted.

"It is yet unclear how the Keep itself was breached," said Maester Gerardys to the Small Council when a raven arrived from King's Landing informing them of this new treachery. "The boy's head was severed from his body. Thousands witnessed the procession."

"Gods be good." Daenys leaned over the Painted Table, hands gripping tight to the rough edges. Two men had snuck into the Red Keep and killed Aegon and Helaena's son, Jaehaerys. She feared for Gemma finding out about this news later today; the girl had grieved enough for the past fortnight without his being added on.

"And they are accusing me of having a hand in this?" asked Rhaenyra.

"It appears so," admitted the maester. "There have been messages sent to that effect throughout the realm."

"We must send our own messages," said Rhaenyra. "Denying this vile allegation."

The maester nodded, "I will do so at once, but I am not sure they will be received in good faith."

"No, they are not like to be," said Daenys. "But be sure to mention the truth that many in the city and the Red Keep remember, though others never knew. Rhaenyra always cared for Helaena the most, she used to visit her little sister often. Gemma and Helaena played together as babes. I cared for Aegon and Helaena when we still lived at the Red Keep. There is no reason for Rhaenyra to have harmed Aegon's heir when she could have chosen to harm Aegon himself. Say this plain truth and they can choose to believe it or not. The gods judge us and we know that this was not Rhaenyra's doing."

Maester Gerardys nodded. "We must double our guard," commanded Rhaenyra, "here and in Driftmark. There will be swift retribution in one form or another–"

"I have seen to it already, Your Grace," said Lord Bartimos. Daenys did not like how often he interrupted in these meetings; of late she fancied herself relieving him of his tongue the way she did Ser Vaemond.

"Thank you, Lord Bartimos," said Daenys coolly. "Alyssa and Rhaenys will continue their patrol of the Gullet. In light of recent events, we are replacing Prince Jacaerys's watch of Dragonstone with Princess Baela and Moondancer. Her turn will be alongside Gemma, whenever I am not available to monitor with Vhagar." She glanced at Rhaenyra, who was rubbing her head. "That is all for today, my lords."

Only when they'd cleared out did Rhaenyra whisper, "Did he command this?"

"He might have," admitted Daenys. "Perhaps he told them to kill Aemond or Aegon, perhaps he said Jaehaerys's name or said that any of the royals would do. I do not know. He will not be like to tell the truth if we inquire. It no longer matters. It is done and there is nothing we can do to sew Jaehaerys's head back on. Whether it was Daemon or not, Otto has chosen to point a finger at you. They will call you 'Rhaenyra the Cruel' in the streets, that won't end. A nickname for a nickname, it seems, our trade was. Aemond the Kinslayer and now Rhaenyra, Maegor the Cruel with Teats. They used this to their advantage and we were the last to know. It no longer matters."

Rhaenyra sighed in frustration. "I should have expected it. I should have known Daemon would..."

"So should I," said Daenys. "I will have Bertram help Maester Gerardys tell the story true. Your allies, those who know you as I do, they know you would not have ordered this. They all know this sort of thing is more Daemon's style. In the end, it is too close associated with you and your name bears the mark it has made. Let them believe what they choose. In the end, you are still rightful heir to the throne. Aegon and Helaena were likely already being pressured to produce another child. Our fight does not stop here."

Rhaenyra had a faraway look in her eye. "Did you know... that someone was brought to us after you left for Highgarden? Someone of great value?"

"If you mean Mysaria," said Daenys, "then I was told of it after I returned. Perhaps she helped Daemon with this plot, perhaps not. I only know that she has a web of little spies running through King's Landing. There is naught that occurs without her hearing word of it. She and I were never close, but I knew of her all the same. I haven't been to visit her. I've no reason to."

"She helped them crown Aegon," said Rhaenyra. "Daemon told me as much before he left for Harrenhal. She claims to regret it, but I am not sure I believe that." She sighed, "I will question her. See what she knows of this."

Daenys let her handle it. She went to her daughters instead, finding Gemma teaching Dyana to shoot in the yard. The girl was good at it, but nowhere near as precise as Gemma had learned to be. At any rate, it would be a tool for Dyana to defend herself. A proper start, if anything.

She held Gemma once more when she broke the news of Jaehaerys. Her daughter cried into her shoulder, horrified and upset. She'd pulled away only to write a letter to Helaena, hoping that there was some way that it could be delivered and express her condolences. Daenys would see to it, somehow. She had old ladies-in-waiting who still worked at the castle and would be loyal to her, not to mention Mysaria probably knew of a way in, if she was willing to help. A kind gesture on Gemma's part, yet still the darkness in her daughter's eyes grew.

How terrible it was to lose someone. Daenys was glad that, at least with Viserys, her last words to her brother had been words expressing love. She was glad that they'd had their time together, that they'd grown to understand one another and honor their father's memory by caring for each other in ways that were always difficult for Daemon.

Yet, she'd reached this sort of indifference towards death only after so many others had come before. Daenys had always handled loss differently, since she was a girl, it was why so many seemed to find solace in her. How could she pass that knowledge onto Gemma, who was suddenly losing people left and right after having had only happiness? After never even knowing a loss so dear until Viserys?

She stood on the beach, watching Alyssa and Gemma swim to refresh themselves after hours in the sky. Her children were all strong swimmers thanks to Rolf, and sometimes found relaxation in the water. Daenys had neglected to tell them what Rhaenyra learned from Mysaria– Blood was one of the men who'd helped Daemon kill Jaehaerys.

Gemma would react poorly to knowing this, after how she'd worried something might happen to Blood for letting her take Dyana to safety. Perhaps Daenys should have expected Blood of all people would help her brother with such a deed. He'd been a friend to her once, but always a greater friend to Daemon.

Ravens were sent out, Bertram exhausted when Daenys found him that evening. More ravens had come soon after, informing them of worse things taking place elsewhere. A battle had occurred in the Riverlands, an inevitable one considering how often Rolf, Aenar, and Cliff had gone out trying to settle Blackwood-Bracken disputes.

It seemed, however, the Battle of the Burning Mill was not to be known as a victory for Aegon despite the strength House Bracken put behind his name when the Blackwoods had started the argument burning Bracken crops and waving Rhaenyra's banners. Both sides had suffered grievous losses, but it seemed that when the Brackens left Stone Hedge vacant to march, two had swooped in to take it in Rhaenyra's name.

Rolf himself wrote to Daenys about how Aenar and Aegarax had followed a plan made by Daemon to seize Stone Hedge. Their son had bravely led out a host of Darrys, Rootes, Pipers, and Freys to take the castle by storm. Lord Humfrey Bracken and his children were captives, forcing the Bracken men– and, by default, Aegon's supporters– to lay down their swords and admit defeat.

Her Aenar, clever Aenar, was being celebrated as a leader and a strategist, having given much input once the battle was underway. Her boy had fortified the defenses of Stone Hedge and had easily gathered the loyalty of the riverlords who fought beneath him while he burned Bracken retreaters with Aegarax. Rolf had written, 'My love, you should see our boy. He inspires all by telling the harsh truth as he motivates his men to do what is right. Not once has he stopped proclaiming that Rhaenyra is the rightful heir to the Iron Throne.'

She wished she were there to celebrate with him, to tell him how proud she was. A letter would have to suffice– a letter she had to duplicate, later, when Bertram presented her with a letter from his cousin Elmo. Cliff was still at Riverrun, admired by the men for his strength. Apparently, Lord Grover had wanted to sit idly by and not listen to Rolf's letter, but to his face, Cliff had called his grandfather a coward and said that his words no longer mattered when he could hardly muster up the air to speak them.

According to Elmo, Lord Grover had managed a wheeze of a laugh and admitted, 'I should have expected as much from a grandchild of mine, born from my own restless son and that feisty Targaryen princess. Very well, boy, you will have the command.'

That was what brought her to tears. Gemma and Alyssa had been glad to hear of the news, but to Daenys, it all spoke to the fact her children were no longer children. Alyssa about to wed, her sons leading men to war, it made her proud and mournful, wishing it did not have to be so.

She knew her sons were likely driving Otto mad with desperation. He'd be doing everything he could to shore up Aegon's defenses and gather the allies he could. Already, Corlys had heard whispers that Otto was treating with the Kingdom of the Three Daughters, the fleets of Tyrosh, Lys and Myr, and even with Dorne. Otto would not have been Otto if he hadn't already thought of this.

"Don't worry, Mother, it will likely not bear much fruit," said Bertram once he showed her the letter with this information. "The Triarchy has never been quick to move– they lack a true king and all important decisions go through the High Council. They'll be talking about this for quite awhile and won't manage to do anything yet– we will deal with them when the time comes. As for Dorne, well, if the Tyrells are not going to participate, of course they want Dorne. But even if Qoren Martell wanted to, he cannot field many men."

"You may be right," said Daenys. She knew he was; her boy was too clever for his own good. Still, it all worried her. "But Qoren supported the Triarchy when I helped Corlys clear the Stepstones. If Otto is treating with both..."

"Perhaps a marriage offer?" said Bertram. "We could offer Cliff or Aenar to wed Qoren's daughter Aliandra. I think Cliff especially would like Dorne. We could bring them into the Realm."

She pursed her lips. "I do not think they would take to it. They don't consider themselves part of the Realm presently; why would they want to participate at all? Perhaps we can think of this when it is time to make peace, but it is unlikely to work now. Dorne is safer not participating. They think themselves mighty because they bested Meraxes, yet really all they did was allow Dorne to burn... as if that truly helped them. They're more like to do the same thing again than side with Otto. The Triarchy... that is the one we will have to worry about." She shook her head. "Any other letters, my boy?"

"One more." Bertram offered it to her. "This one is of the many being routed to Daemon now that the White Wyrm is here. That seal there, that's the one the castle spies use to communicate with her."

Daenys raised her brows, intrigued. She popped open the letter, eyes darting over the page. She suddenly felt elated, a grin breaking out. "Good... very good." She closed it once more, explaining to a curious Bertram, "Aegon has just dismissed Otto as his Hand. It seems he told his grandsire, 'Thrones are won with swords, not quills. Spill blood, not ink.' Aegon believes that Otto is not doing anything, for blow after blow has come to their side. Oh, this is good, this is very good. If he is dismissing Otto, then it means Otto will be on the move. He named Ser Criston instead... good..."

"You once broke his nose," noted Bertram. "Queen Alicent spared his life for what he did."

"He's impulsive and not clever the way Otto is. Yes... let me have Rhaenyra's leave and I will seize Otto myself."

Bertram shot up, excited. "Truly? You think you can manage it?"

"He will be on the move now," said Daenys. "If I can catch him on the Roseroad making his way back to Oldtown, then we have robbed Aegon of a key piece. Otto will not be able to send any further letters. I should have intercepted Otto much earlier, I should have made sure he could never be Hand again. If I have it my way, he won't be. We will have him prisoner here, see what he knows, and if he will not give it up... then we will relieve him of his head. Aegon's already been butchering those loyal to Rhaenyra. Lords Hayford, Merryweather, Harte, Buckler, Caswell, and Lady Fell have all been beheaded already for supporting Rhaenyra... let Otto fall for proclaiming Aegon as rightful heir."

"But..." Bertram hesitated. "Is it safe for you to go now? I believe that if Aegon is to make another move, this attack will happen on land, not in the sky. We need your sword here with Uncle Daemon, Father, Aenar, and Cliff all gone."

Daenys reached out to cup his face. "What worries you so?"

"I... I don't know. It's a feeling. I don't know Aegon as well as Lys or Aenar, but I think if Aegon has dismissed Otto, it's for a reason. A reason we don't know. He's planning something. He wants blood spilt. He will attack us here, I am sure of it. It's like Uncle Daemon said, he is a green boy and he is easily provoked. Who will stop him now? Not Ser Criston, surely."

She hesitated. "You may be right. If that is the case, I cannot afford to go anywhere. Yet... I am not sure who else can manage this task. I will not let Otto slip away from us again. Right now, while he is little defended and leaving King's Landing, it is the prime opportunity to strike."

"Alyssa," replied Bertram. "Send Alyssa. You, stay here."

She bit her lip. Alyssa, yes, she could trust her daughter to see it done. But if Alyssa were to get to speaking to Otto, if he were to attempt to manipulate her the way he did Alicent... Alyssa was unlikely to fall for it, but she was likely to incinerate him for it. It was a risk either way, but Bertram was right. To leave Dragonstone undefended now was too dangerous, especially when her son's words were like to be right.

"Very well," said Daenys at last. "Alyssa goes. I stay."

Bertram grinned. "Otto is about to get the scolding of a lifetime. I think sending Alyssa will torture him more than any blade could."

That, she also believed.