The Red Keep, King's Landing, 116 AC

The 13th year of King Viserys the Peaceful's rule

_

The castle was quiet.

It was not oft this way. In fact, she couldn't remember it being quiet in the years before she married, for Daemon had always been coming and going, filling it with turmoil. Now, she wasn't sure when she would see her brother again. As expected, a single raven had come from who-knew-where to congratulate her on the birth of little Gemma.

Yet, that had been a year ago. The castle had not been filled with the familiar snickers of Daemon, nor had the Dragonpit been graced with Caraxes's incessant trilling. In fact, the castle hadn't even received the squalling of a new babe. Daenys had yet to become pregnant a fourth time (though Rolf insisted to anyone who asked that they were trying 'very hard') and, to her great pleasure, neither had Alicent. It seemed that Viserys was heeding her advice about not siring any further children. He had his two spares, should anything happen to Rhaenyra. He needn't bed poor Alicent anymore. It was painfully obvious that the girl did not enjoy it; why would she?

"Gods, how they've grown," said Alicent, the two seated together under a garden pavilion. Aegon and Helaena's wetnurse sat over a blanket with the children, who spread themselves around the pavilion with guards on either side. The castle had been quiet without Rhaenyra, who'd been sent by Viserys for a tour of the realm, wherein she was expected to find a husband that suited her.

Words had been had– Daenys had heard them thundering through the walls. Viserys had told Rhaenyra about Laenor, but she'd not preferred to indulge in it. Even so, she'd gone kicking and screaming with Ser Criston and her assigned guard to carry out said tour to find a husband. She'd not been allowed to take Syrax, a great crime in her poor niece's eyes. At any rate, it put distance between Viserys and Rhaenyra, so the tension might die down. Daenys hoped that Rhaenyra might find someone to her liking, should a suitable boy be lingering around out there.

She glanced down at her twins, three-year-olds who could never stop talking. They were deep in conversation with Aegon regarding a spider that Helaena refused to stop playing with– ever so often, the slightly younger Aegon would slip into an incoherent word, but Alyssa and Aenar had no trouble understanding him. The wetnurse was beside herself with worry, but Cliff seemed to share Helaena's fascination and kept digging around beneath the plants attempting to locate another for her.

Gemma was the only one not partaking, nestled against Daenys's breast deep in sleep. She had only ever used wetnurses within the first week of giving birth, while she gave her body time to recover. In all other instances, she'd given her children milk of her own breasts. She wondered if this was why they were always so comfortable around her. Alicent's own did not often seem to want to be held by her.

"They do grow fast," agreed Daenys. It was becoming rare for her to see Alicent so relaxed. She saw her face scrunch up with anguish each time she was handed a fussy Helaena or meant to reprimand Aegon. Daenys didn't much think Alicent enjoying motherhood. She didn't entirely expect her to, but worried that it would not bode well for any involved if the children continued to have a mother who resented them. Helaena might've been Alicent's favorite, but she was the one who drove her most mad.

Alicent cleared her throat. "It is nice outside. I am glad the children can play together this way. Surely it is much better than being cooped up indoors. Perhaps Rhaenyra will wish to engage with them out here."

Daenys did not say that Rhaenyra spent much of her time playing with Daenys's own children, her dear cousins. Rhaenyra did not despise her half-siblings, but preferred to be seen with them when Alicent was not present– which happened to be most of the day. "Perhaps," she agreed quietly. "I keep mine inside more oft than not, because, well, you can see Cliff up to all sorts of mischief. The twins, Rolf has to chase around constantly. It is easier to do so with walls around than with bushes and weeds. I imagine Aenar and Alyssa would vanish into a thicket faster than Rolf could see."

The Queen smiled, seeing how Alyssa had pulled Aegon to his feet and dragged him to where Cliff had unearthed a worm. By force, the girl put the worm in Aegon's hands, telling him not to be afraid as it writhed between his fingers. Daenys wondered if Alicent had ever suspected that Aenar and Alyssa were her half-siblings. If so, she'd never said anything about it.

"I have a proposal to make," said Alicent, clasping her hands together. "There is much talk of marriage around, and I hoped to bring our family closer together. The King and I discussed two matches that may be suitable. I would like to betrothe Alyssa to Aegon and Cliff to Helaena."

She was taken aback. That idea did not seem to be Alicent's own. She was no Targaryen by birth, why would she want to marry her children to their immediate cousins? It didn't smell like a scheme of Viserys, either. This had Otto written all over it.

"No," said Daenys immediately. She was not accustomed to denying Alicent anything. Even with the tension that had persisted between her and Rhaenyra in the past years, Daenys had not stopped treating her as a daughter. Before she'd married Viserys, Daenys had never denied Rhaenyra or Alicent anything they asked for.

This, however, she could not grant. Not only had she sworn a vow, but she had no desire to see it done. Her own inclinations towards keeping the family close were not the same as Alicent's. She worried about what the realm would think if Aegon and Helaena both wed their cousins. Aegon's claim would seem stronger with a Targaryen-Tully wife. If Rhaenyra was already so against Laenor... no, Daenys worried it would not help her cause.

The girl blinked, once then three times, and said, "Oh." She'd never sounded so disappointed with something Daenys had told her.

"I promised Rolf I'd not wed our children to each other," explained Daenys. "He mostly meant to each other, of course... our family's history would dictate that Aenar and Alyssa should be betrothed... however, I cannot imagine him being too happy with the idea of them wedding their cousins, either. You and I both had marriages we did not choose– the first of mine, I mean. Even Rhaenyra may be saddled with someone she does not want. I don't think we should do the same to our children. Our little ones deserve better than that."

And none seated here will ever wear the crown. They will never sit the Iron Throne. Let them marry into other houses and spread the blood of the dragon. Do not let their betrothals trick the lords of Westeros into further 'proof' of Rhaenyra's ineptitude.

"I see." Alicent's tone was unchanged. As of late, even with Rhaenyra's absence, the distance between them grew. Daenys had four children to attend to, had Council meetings to sit in on, devoted at least two hours a day to train in the yard with Rolf, then somehow squeezed in enough time to make sure Rhaenyra was alright. She'd always fit Alicent into her routine, but as of late, Alicent had her own routine– she'd grown into herself as Queen.

She wasn't sure if Rhaenyra's continued anger contributed to it, or perhaps Otto was beginning to turn Alicent against her. Viserys had not dismissed him, but it seemed somehow Otto had an inkling that he'd considered it, for he'd been even colder with Daenys than usual at each Council meeting. Thankfully, he did not dare bother Rolf or the children. At any rate, Rolf would easily cut Otto to ribbons for any disturbance.

It was one of the things she loved most about her husband. She'd always been quick to anger, as had Daemon, but Rolf's blood was not dragon blood. He always tried to smile, he never once raised his voice at their children or Daenys. He preferred to diffuse situations or find solutions to problems in the moment, rather than adding fuel to a fire. Rhaenyra liked him very much for it, too. She liked talking to Rolf about the things that troubled her. Sometimes, Daenys teased that Rolf was Rhaenyra's favorite handmaiden.

He always laughed and said he was. He'd be offended if she had another preferred maiden to accompany her and gossip with her. He'd never been the sort of man Daemon or Otto was, clinging to masculinity as if it were a crown placed on his head. He let Alyssa smear paints on his face, to make him 'pretty.' He sang to Gemma to put her to sleep, not caring who heard him. He peppered Aenar and Cliff's face with kisses to make him laugh even if other men were around. Not once had he tried to hide his pride in being a father.

But Otto was a different man when it came to fatherhood. Men like Otto were always trying to slither through every crevice they could find, to plot and scheme until they opened a chasm of darkness and chaos. Otto could be playing his game now, whispering to Alicent, subtly influencing lords around the castle... he'd already proven he might use his daughter for his own means.

She felt Alicent's attitude linger even after the topic of conversation changed. Eventually, it was she that decided to bring Aegon and Helaena back inside. Rolf took her place half an hour later, face beaded with sweat. After a quizzical look from Daenys, he'd explained that he'd been helping the old master-at-arms train the young squires. Apparently, he wished to hand his role over to Rolf.

"That is wonderful," said Daenys with a smile, kissing his cheek. "You would perfect for it. Do you hear that, little ones?"

"Yes," said Aenar, toddling over to them now that Aegon was not keeping him company. "Papa will teach the boys to be knights."

"Aye, I will." Rolf lifted him onto his knee. "One day, you will be a knight, too. I reckon you'll be as good as your uncle Daemon."

"What's he like?" asked Alyssa. A puff of dirt fell behind her, and at the sight of her dirty hand, Daenys assumed she'd been about to drop the dirt onto Cliff's head, if not for their attention turning her way.

"Oh, you should have seen him as a boy," said Daenys, beckoning her closer. "Daemon was more mischievous than you, Aenar, and Cliff put together."

Cliff gave her a look of disbelief from where he was still digging for worms and spiders. "It is true," said Daenys. "Princess Rhaenys and the King had to keep us out of trouble. Daemon liked to climb everywhere– he once climbed to the top of this very pavilion. My uncle Aemon, Rhaenys's father, had to pull him down. He never listened to his master-at-arms, either. He used to chase the other boys with his sparring sword."

Alyssa giggled. "And you, Mama?"

"Well, when I was your age and a little older– before I flowered– I used to spend much of my time with Princess Gael and Lady Aemma, Nyra's mother. But if he could, Daemon would pull me away from them and we'd run around the castle together. He used to pretend we were in battle, and I had to try to fight him. We'd play monsters, and he would pretend to be a dragon burning everything down. My father was very concerned for him."

"Careful," warned Rolf as Cliff stopped, tilting his ear to listen. "You may be giving him an idea." Cliff smiled, pretending not to have heard him. He placed a mound of four worms on his lap, beginning to pluck them up individually.

"What was your father like?" asked Alyssa. She leaned onto Daenys's knee, gently patting Gemma's head as she slept. "Prince Baelon."

"He was much like your father. Very doting. Very kind. He was loving and still fierce. The happiest moments in our family were before I was born, unfortunately. My uncle Aemon, aunt Jocelyn, aunt Daella, and my parents would fly out to have picnics."

"How?" asked Aenar. He held up his fingers, counting aloud, "Caraxes, Vhagar, Meleys. Three dragons, but... lots of people."

"Daemon always liked Caraxes, even as a babe. My uncle Aemon would take him, his wife, and little Daemon on Caraxes first. Then, my mother would follow with Rhaenys on Meleys– she always knew Meleys would be her dragon. My father had the largest dragon, and so he'd take my aunt Daella and the King. There is a grassy field on the nearby cliffs, where we have our funerals. That was where they'd go, in those days."

"What happened?" asked Aenar. "Why not anymore?"

Daenys smiled sadly. "When my aunt Daella died... well, her absence weighed on them heavily. Then, even after I was born... my mother was barely strong enough to ride her dragon. Then, she and my brother Aegon died. I never got to go on a picnic with them. Or, at least, the picnics weren't really picnics. My aunt Saera ran away, then there was a quarrel with my grandparents. Rhaenys's parents and my father would take us there to play, but it was never the same."

Rolf reached out to squeeze her hand. Alyssa pouted, like she might cry. Then, a shadow passed overhead. The garden darkened for a few seconds, the guards tensed as the figure swept away.

Aenar gave a gasp, pointing up at a dragon that swooped over the towers of the Red Keep, scales glistening red in the sun. As the children scrambled to get a better look, Daenys shot to her feet, Gemma fussing as she awoke. Holding her breath, Daenys watched the dragon turn over the castle, making for the Dragonpit. Her heart fluttered, he was home.

She ushered Rolf away to bathe and dress himself, bringing the children with her as she went to find the King. Viserys had already been informed by the time she reached him in his chambers, preparing himself to sit the throne– whatever Daemon was coming back for, they needed to be ready.

"Today of all days," said Viserys quietly, half-smiling as Aenar and Alyssa ogled at his model of the city, whispering to each other not to touch it while Cliff gave it a few tentative taps at the base.

"Today of all days," agreed Daenys. "I wonder what he's come to say. Last I heard from Rhaenys, he'd gone to Driftmark and helped Corlys with cleaning up the rest of the Stepstones. It's been long, hard work, and I have not returned since the twins were born."

"I want to meet him," said Alyssa. "Uncle, may I see Caraxes?"

Viserys smiled, "You may see any dragon you want, little one. Your mother might take you tomorrow..." He gave Daenys a look, nodding in the direction of her apartments. She understood– the throne room would be no place for the children, not when they weren't sure what Daemon was coming to say so suddenly.

"Tomorrow, indeed," said Daenys. "It's high time you went to your lessons. Come now, follow me."

She left them with their septa, Rolf following tight at her heels once he'd freshened himself up. They matched each other's strides, swords bobbing against their legs. Daenys held tight to the hilt of Bloodrain. Sometimes, when she missed Daemon, she'd look down at this sword he'd given her, she'd remember better times between them. Gods, she hoped he'd be kind to Rolf, or she'd have to use this sword against him.

She was surprised to find Ser Criston Cole among the Kingsguard lined up at the foot of Viserys's throne. "Ser Criston," she said as she took her place, "What are you doing here?"

"The Princess Rhaenyra has returned from her tour," he said, failing to meet her gaze. He seemed embarrassed having to admit it, though Daenys knew Rhaenyra had surely been the one to insist they return home. "The Princess is in the throne room."

She looked around, not seeing her, the gallery and floor filled as all the court itched to get a look at the Rogue Prince. She remembered the last time he came so suddenly, he'd come and sat upon the throne. That would not happen today, Viserys already standing over his seat.

The Kingsguard glared ahead at the door, Otto pacing before them. Daenys avoided meeting his eyes as he glanced at her; what could he possibly want? She was more certain that he'd started poisoning Alicent against her, for she'd never been so eager to leave her presence before.

Finally, the doors opened. Daemon strode in without his usual armor– the steel he wore was a dull grey, the sort of armor she saw men wearing more often in Driftmark. His hair, which he boasted had always been longer than Daenys's, had been cut. Her father had always worn his hair that way, and she couldn't help but smile when she saw it.

He had a sword at his hip and another in his hand, not a single person speaking as he made for the throne. As he reached the foot, the Kingsguard drew their blades, pointing them in his direction. Though he'd left Dragonstone at Daenys's insistence, no one had forgotten the comments he made when the Realm lost Aemma and young Baelon.

Unfazed, Daemon walked right into the tip of Ser Harrold's blade, looking down at it as if it were a young child pointing a sword, rather than the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard. With a smirk tugging at his lips, he held the blade of the free sword, offering its hilt to Viserys. "Add it to the chair," he said simply, letting it clatter to the floor.

Ser Harrold sheathed his sword, picking up the one Daemon dropped. The Rogue Prince kept his gaze fixed on Viserys, bending his knee and bowing his head. "I've finished the work my sister began," said Daemon. "The Stepstones... are yours."

Viserys started to smile– none of them had ever been able to stay mad at Daemon forever– but tried to keep himself serious, "Where is Lord Corlys?"

"He sailed home to Driftmark," said Daemon. "While I came to my own home."

Slowly, Viserys descended the throne, Blackfyre tapping on the ground as he moved. He stopped in front of Daemon, who turned his gaze up. Not once, since they were children, had Daenys seen Daemon give Viserys that look he did now– the look of complete submission, an apologetic look that begged him to let bygones be.

"Rise," said Viserys. As Daemon stood, Viserys put a hand on his arm, tapping it in thanks. The court clapped once Daemon rested his forehead on Viserys's shoulder, embracing him.

As he drew away, he turned to Daenys. He started to smile. "Little sister. I take it this is the husband I've heard so much about?"

"I'm surprised you've heard anything," said Daenys. "With that close of a shear, I'm astonished you still have ears." She grinned, rushing up to hug him. "You've been away too long, you idiot. I was thinking you'd never return."

"For you, always." He put his arms around Viserys and Daenys. "Well, I am famished, and I wish to meet my nephews and nieces." She knew he only meant her own children, not Viserys's. "Come, brother." He looked directly at Rolf. "Join us."

With a good-natured smile, Rolf followed along. "It is a pleasure to meet you formally, my Prince. Daenys never ceases to tell me stories about you."

"And somehow, you've still found the time to sire four children on her," said Daemon. "That is a true miracle."

"Be quiet," said Daenys, her smile dropping. Rolf had been civil, and Daemon did not respond in kind. "I'll not tolerate you bothering my husband."

"Not a bother at all, my love," said Rolf, though she felt his tone more defensive than she'd ever heard it. "Don't worry, Prince Daemon, I've never lacked for time alone with her. I surmise that our fifth child will still manage to be conceived even with your person here. Perhaps we'll name it after you."

She felt her heart stop. Rolf knew exactly how little Daemon would like that. Rubbing in how Daenys had always given Rolf time alone for sex when she'd denied all of Daemon's advances– if she'd ever given Daemon a true moment alone, they'd be married and all four of her children would be his. Challenging him with the notion that he'd still bed her while Daemon was here, perhaps able to listen in– for they were never quiet. Naming it after him would be the cherry on top. Daemon had always wanted a child with Daenys, yet the most he'd get was a child named after him.

It appeared this amused Daemon more than it irritated him. He started to laugh, really laugh, until he finally said, "Daemon Tully. That would curdle your old father's blood."

Viserys and Rolf both joined him in laughter, apparently taking this for an assurance that he had seen it as a joke. But Daenys knew better. She felt Daemon's grip tighten along her hip. He might have liked Rolf for daring to speak to him that way, but he'd not liked what Rolf actually said.

And when Daemon didn't like something, he acted.