She didn't make it in time.

The battle was long over by the time she made it to Rook's Rest, a column of smoke higher than the Red Keep and thicker than the Dragonpit still rising from the castle. As she flew over, she realized the scale of the fight.

A great chunk of the castle had collapsed– rather, been broken through. On top, the dead body of Meleys. The massive dragon had caused an explosion, flames still leaping out from her charred form. When she soared as close to the castle as she could, attracting further screams of terror from the Staunton men as Vermithor's massive wings cleared the smoke ever so slightly, she saw a body beside the dragon– one burnt to a crisp. It must have been Rhaenys; who else?

Their men hadn't exactly fared well. Many had been reduced to ash, others were pieces of what they'd been. Flying low, the wind beneath Vermithor caused some of the bodies to burst into clouds, nothing left to keep them together. Pools of thick red blood, darker than she'd ever seen, surrounded many of the corpses. Dragon's blood, likely, so hot that it had melted the men who it rained upon.

She could not even land on the main battlefield, for there were too many wounded she might crush. Instead, Daella flew to find a clearing. The one nearest the site was already occupied, Vhagar's familiar and monstrous form spread out in the largest space she could find. She did not see Sunfyre anywhere, or Aegon. As she passed where Vhagar lay, she came upon more smoke in the trees, a smaller clearing made by force with flame and the weight of a second body.

When she saw the glimmer of gold and all the men that were surrounding a body, she knew she had been too late to save her brother. She landed as close as she could, leaving Vermithor behind and sprinting through the forest until she reached them. Gwayne was there already, his face so green she knew he was sick to his stomach. Beholding what he did was almost set to make her ill as well.

The man who they could hardly figure out how to move was once her little brother, once Aegon their King. But he did not look so now. The men were drawing back each time they tried to touch him, as though his body burned them. Flesh was melted on his face, his armor so tight to his body that it must have settled in from the heat. Only Daella could tolerate it as she ran to him, collapsing and examining the many wounds– broken arms, bones sticking out of his legs, skin melted off and clothes torn. She took the hand that had the least amount of blood on it, squeezing it gently and feeling how he boiled from within.

"Aegon," she said softly, unsure if she could feel a pulse. He might be dead. "Aegon, I'm here, Daella's here." She heard him groan weakly and exhaled in relief– he was still alive. She didn't know how they would get him back to King's Landing– it would take a week if they were careful with their march, but he would not survive it if she flew him back swiftly. Their only choice was to force him to lay in agony.

"Get one of the wagons," commanded Gwayne. "Fill it with every cloak you can, make it comfortable for our King. He cannot remain here."

Daella looked up at him, truly glad he was alive and well. But that meant he would have to relive what he'd just experienced, whatever horrors he'd witnessed in the sky. She knew he'd never been the fondest of the dragons, he was always so timid when it came to those things. He believed in his gods while others believed the dragons were gods, and so he naturally felt afraid of that which he did not connect with and understand.

"What happened?" she asked, dreading the answer. "I must ask, I am sorry. Aeneas told me they intercepted the letter calling me for aid. They shouldn't have been here, neither of them."

Gwayne's hands were shaking as he came to kneel beside her. "It was... it was..." His eyes were wild, tears filled them quickly. "Daella, it was the most horrible thing I had ever seen. Meleys came, she began burning our men. I had never seen anyone die so quickly, so painfully. They screamed and ran as they burned, they tried to call for help and we could not answer them. Then, Aegon came. Sunfyre and Meleys, they were locked in battle, but I could see that Sunfyre could not manage against the Red Queen, she was too large, too experienced... Sunfyre's blood bathed over the men, they burned more and they were more conscious as they died."

She took his hand, hoping it would encourage him to stay strong as he kept on. "Then Vhagar came," he murmured. "And she did not discriminate. Rather..." He gulped, lowering his voice, "Aemond did not. He burned them both. The three of them, they were locked together. I couldn't understand what was happening on the ground anymore, everyone seemed to be collectively watching, waiting, holding their breath. Sunfyre fell at last, right here. There was an explosion, the ground shook and the trees began to burn and collapse. I rode for Aegon then. I did not see the rest, all I felt was more trembling. The men tell me Meleys and Vhagar crashed into the ground, they broke men into pieces with their massive forms. And then, suddenly, it was over. Vhagar killed Meleys."

Daella could hardly celebrate the fact that Rhaenyra had lost her largest dragon and one of her wiser and more experienced counselors. She remembered how Rhaenys had known this was to come... why would that woman have still supported Rhaenyra for so long? Rhaenyra killed her son, Rhaenyra married her daughter's husband the moment said daughter was dead, Rhaenyra gave her bastard grandsons that would take what trueborn granddaughters deserved more. In the end, she had died for nothing.

With the utmost care, they were able to bring Aegon onto the wagon. The bumps along the road were sure to hurt him, but Daella wrapped him so carefully, the same way she used to when he was a babe. The march would be hard on him, but she hoped he would be alright. Daella would have to fly back ahead of them– Aemma was alone patrolling the city, truly unaware of what to do should danger come calling. As for Vhagar... well, Daella had already known she could not trust Aemond to control that dragon. At the very least it might've been useful for Helaena to fly around several hours even if not truly patrolling, but her sister could not be relied upon.

She found Aemond in the other clearing. He was completely alone, seated on the ground and leaning back against Vhagar. The old dragon regarded Daella and rumbled lowly, as if unsure whether she was coming in peace or not. Daella saw the way he stared back at her, so utterly apathetic that she knew without asking that he felt absolutely no remorse for what he'd done to his brother. Needlessly, she would say, though she hadn't seen the situation herself.

"I will ask you this once," said Daella as she stopped in front of him. "And you had better be honest, if you've any decency left in you. Did you hurt Aegon on purpose?"

Aemond slowly slinked up, much like a snake emerging from the brush. He stood taller than her, and it seemed to bring him satisfaction. He wanted to be better than her, that is why he was here. The boy was a fool– he could do a million things she could not. Why did that matter so much to him?

"You already have the answer you want in your head," said Aemond coldly. "Nothing I say will change your mind. You will believe I harmed him on purpose, that is that. I won't deny it."

She scoffed. "You intercepted that letter because you wanted to be seen as some great savior, now did you? And, I can only assume, you either made sure Aegon found out and was jealous enough to follow, or you goaded him into being the one to save the day while you came behind, awaiting his failure."

"It is his fault if his plan did not go as he hoped. He knew Sunfyre had seen no battles, he knew Vhagar had seen hundreds. In the end it matters not."

"You could have killed him. He may yet die before he is returned to King's Landing. Think of the pain you cause Helaena, Jaehaera, your mother."

He rolled his eye. "Don't lecture me about my mother. We both know she will mourn Aegon only because it is what is expected of her. She never loved us. She had us and she did not raise us. In fact, you raised us. Yet I have always known in spite of this that I have been your least favorite."

Daella couldn't believe how ridiculous he sounded in the wake of this. "That is what matters to you? Who was a favorite? I'll have you know, none of you my siblings could possibly be more favorites than my own children, it is a simple natural fact. I love you all and I raised you all like my own, but make no mistake, my own children were always going to be more dear to me because I carried them and birthed them. It is ridiculous of you to think I would care more about any one of you than my own. What you've done to your own brother... that is jealousy that stems beyond favoritism. You've harbored ill for him, but why? Did it not bother you to slay kin again for glory?"

His lips quirked up. "Did it not bother you to kill your best friend's daughter? Why should I care about hurting Aegon when you so easily killed Baela, a mere child? Laena's get, the last piece you had of a girl who was once your friend? Do not pretend to care, Daella, it bores me. You are the most selfish woman I've ever known. I admire it, I do. It is why I wish to be like you. I do not care for the consequences anymore, just as you have shown us."

"Do not throw that in my face," she said angrily. "If I have killed, I have killed to protect all of you. To win this war and show Rhaenyra once and for all that she deserves nothing. Baela and Moondancer would've died at any point later on, by my hand or another's. I have not killed unnecessarily."

"You may believe whatever helps you remain abed in the night. But I know the truth, as do you, deep down. As I know the truth that you always criticized me more than the others. You were warmer than my mother even still, but I knew you were hard on me because you saw potential in me. Aegon and I share knowing that we will never make you proud no matter what we do. He may still care enough about pleasing you to have named Aeneas his Hand, but I no longer care. I am exactly what you wanted me to be, Daella. I am powerful and if they call me a Kinslayer, so be it. Do you know what else I am now? What I have achieved through your teachings, your example of ambition of ruthlessness, your constant pushing for us to be bolder as this war begins? I am now your Regent. And likely... the new King if my brother does not survive his wounds."

She knew then what his aim had been. To surpass Aegon and Aeneas, to ensure that no one thought another more suited to the throne. To become King, to have ultimate power and recognition. To make her so proud she would burst. Instead, she was angry– perhaps she might not have been if she did not want Aeneas to be King, perhaps she might not have been if he wasn't so rash to achieve this. In trying to challenge him, she'd birthed in him the idea that he was the greatest man to ever walk their world.

"Likely," she said softly, thinking of how easy it would be to have them be rid of a player so wild as Aemond– in these games, temporary wins did not ensure a victory. She could so easily withdraw her blade, kill him, ensure that Aeneas hadto be Regent– Daeron was too far away and they would look for the next Prince to guide them. How convenient he was already Hand.

It would be much harder now to push Aeneas as heir, but perhaps not impossible. The men of the council would realize that Aemond was too wild– he was like Daemon in that sense, proving already he could be a second Maegor or worse. All she had to do was tell them she had made it in time to see that Aemond had hurt his brother and they might not want him as Regent. Yes, she had to think it through carefully, but it was doable.

They flew back together, Aemond holding his head high as though nothing could ruin the glorious mood he was in. Daella decided she would not tell the Small Council about what had really happened at Rook's Rest, not yet. She wanted Alicent to see Aegon in this state before she said anything, before she revealed to her that one of her sons had done that to the other. She told them what had happened in bits and pieces– that Meleys had been slain, but not before she dealt such grievous wounds to Sunfyre and Aegon.

But Aeneas was allowed the truth, to prepare him. So he would know what sort of danger they were dealing with at present. Aemond would fight for the right to be Regent, to be sure. But for now, they could only wait for Aegon to return... alive or dead, for a formal decision to be made.

At the very least, moves could be made. The arrival of Tyshara Lannister the day after Daella's arrival came with what she knew was a wedding more swift than either her or Aeneas deserved. But they'd known, and at least were given the day to prepare while Daella arranged for a septon and a small feast. The girl was beautiful, with long golden hair and the brightest green eyes. A soft voice, but not at all shy– she was a calculating lioness in the making, and Tyland told her that Tyshara's mother was much the same.

Aeneas certainly liked her, and the girl was practically swooning over him. They'd been wed, and though the celebration should have been greater, the time of war called for them to end their feasting quickly. Daella had let them be after Aeneas's many friends carried them away for their bedding. Aelora had turned her nose up as she watched them peel away at Tyshara's clothes– she didn't seem to like the girl, but Daella thought it was more jealousy that she was not the one being wed. She hoped, for the sake of her son's claim, that within the next moon they would learn that Tyshara was already with child. That would give him an edge that Aemond did not have.

When at last Aegon arrived, the welcome was the worst. The men had chosen to bring with them the head of Meleys, proclaiming that Aegon had slain her. But they did not see their king with them, and the head of a dragon was an ill omen. They had not been very celebratory in this victory, though it should have been. Daella thought it poorly planned and stupid.

It was even worse to see Aegon again. The days of travel had done little for his condition. He seemed to be deteriorating more and more– Gwayne reported he'd hardly been conscious throughout the entire march. Orwyle and his flock of maesters had swarmed Aegon immediately, watched on by Alicent as they began to peel away the armor and expose more of his flesh. Helaena sobbed when she saw him and would go into his rooms no more. Daella could hardly believe that was her little brother, the same boy she once rocked to sleep in her arms. Alicent must not have believed, either, that this was the same babe she once birthed.

That was when Daella told Alicent what Gwayne had said– and she knew that if Alicent ran to her brother to confirm it, it would be the truth. The horrified look on her face was almost too much for Daella to bear– she both hated it and loved it. How could Alicent feel, knowing how vicious her son had become? Perhaps she should have done a better job of raising him.

But a consensus was reached, for when Daella said she worried about Aemond becoming Regent, Alicent was in agreement. Daella pretended they ought to recall Daeron from Oldton, pretended that was the better option, but Alicent shook her head. "The Hand is often Regent when the King is ill," she muttered. "Your son is here, older, a Prince all the same. Dragon or not, he will devote himself to this war in a way Aemond cannot and will not."

It was true– Aemond would sooner get himself killed trying to achieve further glory than sit through hours of long meetings discussing strategy. He'd grow impatient quickly, Daella knew it. In the end, all she had wanted and needed was Alicent's approval. Now she had it. Gods, if only Otto had been there to see it... she thought to write to him, but knew he was still far from Oldtown. She'd have to wait longer.

"The armor was Valyrian steel," reported Orwyle on the condition of Aegon when the council first met after his return. Now they were joined by Larys, who Aegon had apparently named his Master of Whisperers before his departure to Rook's Rest. Aemond was there, too, which Daella was not happy about. "But... His Grace suffered grievous burns over much of his body. He has many broken bones. I fear there are more injuries within, injuries we cannot see."

Alicent looked so distraught, Daella almost pitied her. "We are grateful for your works, Grand Maester," she said calmly. "Has he woken?"

The man shook his head. "No. I must admit, I'm not sure he will ever wake. I have plied my crafts to their fullest extents. Our king's fate lies with the gods now."

Alicent glanced at Daella, before finally deciding to stand, saying, "A king cannot rule in his sleep. The realm will have noticed his absence. Let them hear of his great deeds at Rook's Rest. But now we must name a Regent to take his place until he recovers... or does not."

"A wise strategy, Your Grace," agreed Larys. "A regency will assure the people of the stability of the Crown."

Tyland knew what question to ask next, for anyone with eyes would know that it was not as simple as it should be, "Did you have a candidate in mind, Your Grace?" He had to assume that Daella wanted Aeneas to be Regent as much as he had to assume Alicent wanted Aemond to be Regent.

But Alicent shocked her with her answer. "I myself served in this role for my husband," she said, as if to not take sides. Daella admired how bold she was. "I am well-prepared to do it again."

Lord Jasper would not have it. "You played your part admirably in a time of peace, Your Grace. But circumstances have changed."

Alicent side-eyed Daella, as if having expected at least one of the men would be opposed. Daella could not claim to dislike the idea of Alicent as Regent, it would give her more time to prepare Aeneas. "And here I had forgotten. Perhaps a bolder temperament is needed. I may remind this Council, then, that Princess Daella has sat it during times of peace and times of war."

That shocked her even more. But Lord Jasper did not like that, either. "The King does not lack for heirs," he said cautiously. "Aegon has brothers. The obvious choice is his immediate successor, Prince Aemond."

"Agreed," said Tyland, glancing sideways at Daella. Speak, his eyes were telling her. But she could not do so immediately, for Alicent immediately said, "Aemond is young. And his lack of restraint has already cost us dearly."

The members of the Council seemed to glance at each other awkwardly, as if not having expected for her not to support her son. "It is experience that offers the surest path to security," said Orwyle, much to Daella's surprise. "Queen Alicent ably shouldered the duties of the realm when her husband's health failed him. And the Princess Daella has participated heavily in a manner the young Prince has not."

"Experience is valuable, yes," said Lord Jasper. "But the Dowager Queen and Princess are women."

"We are no strangers to rule or to sitting at this Council," bit back Alicent. "Aemond is a fearsome dragonrider– his skill is best employed in the field, but our experience is needed here, at this table."

"No offense was meant, Your Grace," said Tyland, "but at a time when we must show strength–"

Alicent interrupted, questioning the only man who had not spoken, "Lord Larys?" But he disappointed her, admitting, "I agree, Your Grace. It must be Prince Aemond. What would it say if, in response to Rhaenyra's crowning, we raised up a woman of our own?"

"Very well," said Daella, getting to her feet. "Then I will remind you all that there are other male contestants who have the experience you seek. My son, Aeneas, is a Prince and your Lord Hand. He was chosen by the King himself to be his voice of wisdom, to guide him. He could have chosen his brother, effectively naming him into a role that would allow him to easily succeed him in such an event, but he did not. Aeneas is older than Aemond, and he will not be distracted riding dragons into battle– he will plan them and command, he will think strategically without making rash decisions."

"Princess," said Lord Jasper– the cunt sounded as though he was laughing at her. "To choose the King's grandson over his son–"

"The King loved his grandson," said Daella sharply. "He is a man now, married and with the wisdom of his own grandfather Ser Otto, who my father trusted to serve him and rule for him when he was in need of it."

"Come off it, Daella." It was Aemond who spoke, glaring between her and Aeneas– he knew now she was not in support of him. "You know how the succession falls after Aegon. It is me, followed by Daeron, and only then do you and your children come."

"He has more honor than you," she snapped. "While you could not forget an old injury and stupidly killed Lucerys Velaryon, Aeneas was here acting in support of his King as he always had. Do not forget how he defended you from consequence when you lost your eye, how he fought fiercely for Aegon. You claimed all was fine because you gained Vhagar, but you never let that anger go. You earned yourself that stab in the eye and you cannot face that, and so you lash out at everyone you think responsible for it. Aeneas is clever, the sort of person we need during this time. You, you may be mighty, but your head is too hot for a role like this."

"Perhaps the Princess may have a point," said Tyland cautiously, though his face reddened when Aemond snapped his gaze at him. "I only meant, my Prince, that young Aeneas is indeed well-studied, he has been dutiful as Hand and has been present at the formation of all strategic moves–"

"Let us put it to a vote, then," demanded Aemond. "Who here believes that Aeneas should be our Regent?" Daella's hand was raised at once. Slowly, Alicent and Tyland joined her. Aeneas kept his eyes downcast, but Daella could see a smirk rising on his lips. "And who here believes that I should be our Regent?" Lord Jasper, Larys, and at last, shakily, Orwyle raised their hands.

Aeneas clicked his tongue, eyes mischievous as he said, "It would appear we find ourselves at a bit of an impasse, uncle.This may be settled in another manner. A larger vote, a game of cyvasse, a duel in the yard–" He almost seemed to want to laugh, as though he knew that all avenues led to his victory. He was far more popular and liked than Aemond. He thought more carefully and fought much better, too.

"Or a race on our dragons," quipped Aemond maliciously, his eye shining. "Though, it may be difficult to do without one beneath you, nephew. I suppose you may ride your lioness as you must have each night since your wedding, though I doubt she is quite so fast."

"And you might've had a second dragon for yourself if you weren't more eager for blood," said Aeneas. Daella knew what he meant– if he hadn't been so rash, if he had behaved better, Daella and him never would've opposed to a marriage between him and Aelora.

Though obviously nervous about interrupting them, Lord Jasper admitted, "We have given the war to the dragons. It is only right a dragonrider should lead us."

Daella knew she could not turn him. But she knew that perhaps there was another who might turn his vote. She looked between Orwyle and Larys, thrice, then settled on Larys for a moment. He met her eyes, he seemed to remember how they had schemed in the past. Let him see that Aeneas had her same cunning, and while he rode no dragon, he would do whatever was necessary for the Realm.

But she saw the shine in his eyes, and she remembered what else came of the night they plotted to kill Harwin and Lord Lyonel to make Larys the Lord of Harrenhal. How he knew who Aeneas's real father was. He would never support a bastard, that was his reason. He might not say so, but he would not change his mind no matter what qualities Aeneas possessed. To support a bastard meant to support what Rhaenyra herself had done. Daella saw it, she hated it, but she understood it.

So she looked to Orwyle instead. I only need one of you to break the tie. She implored with her gaze, reminded him that mere minutes ago he had been in support of Alicent, of herself. He did not care they were women, he cared they were qualified. Let him remember that Aeneas was qualified, too. Please, please, please–

"I have reconsidered," said Orwyle at last, albeit shakily. "It is true that we should desire for a dragonrider to lead us in this time. But it is true that Prince Aeneas has sat this Council even slightly longer. It was his plan that Vermithor be at Rook's Rest, and yet, we were met with a surprise and now our King is severely incapacitated. I cannot claim to understand what led to this, but it is clear to me that if all had gone to plan, our King would still be here and the Lord Hand would be more proudly able to celebrate this... victory. He is young, but he has learned. I still remember the Prince being present when I tended to King Viserys. How he read to him about the histories he so loved. He is well-studied and most devoted to our cause. I believe he should be Regent."

The look on Aemond's face was one of pure betrayal and fury. Daella almost thought he'd take after her and slay Orwyle then and there– but no, he could not. They still needed him. He meant to do something rash, she knew, she knew, she knew. It was only determining what... and she did not like what it meant for Aegon or her son. She would have to keep a close watch on both of them.

"It appears you are the favorite, then," Aemond said coolly to Aeneas. "Very well. I only ask that I be allowed to remain on the Council. The dragon has three heads, after all..." He still considered Daella as one of them, for he would not have said it otherwise. In the end, she knew it was a silent threat to her as well.

Her son stood from his seat, sliding smoothly to where the King normally sat. He beckoned to where he'd been sitting, always the post of the Hand, inviting Aemond to take it. He did so after a moment of pause. "You are right in that, Prince Aemond. The dragon does have three heads."

Aeneas took a seat, leaning back in the chair. He looked so powerful, as though he'd always belonged there. It almost brought tears to Daella's eyes.