Aemond acted.

It had taken time for it to reach that point. He'd started by being more vocal at the Council, seemingly encouraging Aeneas to listen to his points about blocking the gates to prevent the smallfolk from fleeing. She didn't like it, but the men seemed to, and she knew Aeneas was still too new to the post to oppose them in their entirety.

Her boy was making great progress. He was far more approachable with the smallfolk who came to plead with him, far kinder to the remaining lords and ladies whose loyalties he needed. From their own stores he'd tried to distribute food to appease the people, and with his own hand he'd written that Princess Jaehaera could be a bride for the young Tyrell boy if they agreed to send food. They'd receive a hefty reward for it beyond the marriage if they relieved the suffering of their people and heeded the rightful King's regent.

Aeneas only called himself the Prince Regent and Protector of the Realm, but Daella herself heard the whispers that Aegon the Conqueror's iron-and-ruby crown looked better on her son than it had on her brother. She agreed— Aeneas had many of her Valyrian features, including the finer features of her face. Though silver-haired, Aegon's face was that of the Hightowers— not quite so pretty or breathtaking. It was no wonder Aeneas had always had a flock of girls behind him.

He'd taken down the ratcatchers at once and returned their bodies to their families. Those who went unclaimed were burned by the Crown in the same honor given to members of House Targaryen— though she knew he did it because they had no place to bury these nameless souls and the stench had worsened over the weeks they had been strung up.

He was preparing for their next moves, as they heard that men were gathering in the North and the Vale— the Starks and Arryns sworn to Rhaenyra. Their intention was to regroup at Harrenhal with this purported army Daemon was building. Should that happen, they would need to use dragonfire to slay these people, for swords to match them they did not have.

Ormund Hightower had issues from Oldtown with a thousand knights, a thousand archers, three thousand men-at-arms, and uncounted thousands of camp followers, sellswords, freeriders, and rabble. But his progress was being stalled— Ser Alan Beesbury and Lord Alan Tarly were apparently staunch supporters of Rhaenyra now.

They commanded fewer men, but had been strategic in harassing them day and night, raiding camps and murdering scouts and setting fires in the Hightower line of march. From the south, Lord Costayne had issued from Three Towers to fall upon the Hightower baggage train. Supposedly, a host equal in size was descending on the Mander, led by Thaddeus Rowan, Lord of Goldengrove. Daeron and Tessarion would be able to do little against this army.

Aeneas had every intention of answering Ormund's ask— We need a dragon. She knew he would be sending her soon enough. She was preparing for it, studying maps and ready to descent upon the Costayne, Rowan, Tarly, and Beesbury men with Vermithor's fire.

The decision had not been made, however— Aeneas was waiting until the last possible moment in the event they needed to divide their strength. If they needed to defend the city from Daemon and Caraxes, well, it would need to be Daella and Vermithor here to meet them. Vhagar had taken wounds from Meleys and was perhaps too slow for such a battle-hardened pair.

She knew as well that it was a matter of choosing whether he would cleave to Aemond's thirst for battle and glory or punish him for his rash actions by leaving him to defend the city. He was sowing seeds elsewhere as well, encouraging Aemma to fly more often on Āeksion and even asking Aelora to encourage Helaena to fly again. Whether Aelora would even bother trying, she didn't know. Presumably, the same task had been given to Tyshara as well, now a gentle new companion helping Helaena through her grief.

Daella hoped he would make the right decision. She didn't trust Aemond in the slightest— she kept waiting for him to try something. Whether it was killing Aegon or Aeneas, she knew he had thoughts brewing in his mind, he wouldn't have so easily been fine with this change in leadership. Aeneas was respectful in the Small Council chambers of course, praising Aemond and valuing his expertise. But Aemond would not forget the words exchanged when that choice was made, and he would not forget that each day, it was Aeneas who had won and not him.

She had guards keeping a close eye on him. Mischievous Aemma was glad to track his movements and sweetly report back to her mother if she noticed anything odd. Alistair was to keep his eyes peeled, too. The only one she could no longer trust was Aelora— that girl was ever in a sour mood. Perhaps it would've all been resolved if she felt she had a dragon of her own to escape on. She would've gladly patrolled for some hours away from all those who annoyed her. Normally, Aelora did not find difficulty in pretending to be gentle and kind, but lately it was as though she could not keep up appearances with anyone. Daella had never felt so powerless against her own daughter.

"We've heard reports that Rhaenyra has sent her children away," said Tyland, side-eyeing Daella as if he knew she would start to smile. "Her sons by Daemon and Joffrey have been sent alongside the Lady Rhaena to the Vale. Presumably, the dragons Tyraxes and Stormcloud are meant to guard the Vale."

"Whelps protecting the impregnable Eyrie," said Daella mirthlessly. Of course she shipped Rhaena off, too, she was useless where Baela had been an asset. "Aemond or I could fly there as Visenya did and make quick work of those pups. I would not be surprised if this is a decoy or even a first stop prior to shipping the younger boys to Pentos with Daemon's old friends. The sooner we have ships in the Narrow Sea, the better. Those two boys are the truest born sons that Rhaenyra has. If we can apprehend them, we would be the better for it."

Aeneas pressed his fingertips together. "Indeed. My Lord Hand, is there not something you thought of for this purpose?"

Aemond's one eye shined with mischief. "Our letters to the Triarchy have been answered, indicating they are most intrigued by our proposal of an alliance. They are slow to move, however, and treating in-person may encourage their haste. To that end, I propose we send our old Master of Ships to them. Ser Tyland."

Daella was not entirely surprised, but caught slightly off-guard. Tyland must have been briefed about this, for his face remained neutral. They'd seen one another last night and he'd not mentioned it. Good, she thought, I suppose that means he's adhered to my terms of no feelings. But the point of bedding him was also to have more information— when did he stop wanting to give that to me?

"I agree, my Prince," he said calmly. "Lannister and Hightower ships are still months away. Until we know whether House Tyrell will aid us, we must break this blockade and soon. I will see it done."

"The Red Kraken has presumably chosen his side," said Aeneas. "For he never answered our letters agreeing to marry my sister. He may like something Rhaenyra might've offered more."

Daella snorted, "What has she to offer that we do not?"

Aeneas shrugged, "He is a boy, he wants blood. If she found a way to promise him that in a better way than we did, then it is all that needed to be done."

Lord Jasper cleared his throat, "Perhaps honey will draw him to us. Our marriage offer was a noble one, but the boy may aim higher. Perhaps an offer of marriage anew... but to the Dowager Queen."

Alicent let out a scoff. "Out of the question." She looked around, bewildered when it seemed Aemond wasn't in disagreement. Maybe he wants his mother gone so he can hurt Aegon.

"I agree," began Aeneas, making Alicent pale, "that it is out of the question." The relief on her face was instant. "He has not earned so great an elevation in status. If he will not fight for us, then he will burn with the rest of them. But, I would like him to be treated with in-person all the same. When I make my decision on which dragon will be sent— and when— to the Reach in support of the Hightower army, I intend for this rider to speak with Lord Dalton and reach a conclusion. I do not care for this ambiguity."

Daella and Aemond shared a look, knowing one or the other was responsible for this. She almost believed Aeneas would want someone like Aemond to go and appeal to the Red Kraken's bloodlust— perhaps Dalton would not respect her the same way. Alas, she had to wait. Her boy had to consider every possible circumstance that could arise before he knew which dragon to spare and which to keep. He was clever that way, he'd always been.

"Once the Hightower army is free to march, they will make great haste to us," continued Aeneas. "Lord Jason will find himself supported as he nears Harrenhal. For now, our men who marched to Rook's Rest must make their return. My Lord Hand and I have decided it is the best way to take Harrenhal before Daemon can finish raising this army. One of our dragons will join them when the time comes."

That makes his decision harder, thought Daella, he needs to know who can kill scores of men and get a final word out of Dalton Greyjoy and who can defend other scores and get a final breath out of Daemon Targaryen. It wasn't an easy choice to make, not when both of them had such large dragons and now equal capacity to kill. If it were up to her, she'd send Aemond to the Reach and Pyke and herself to Harrenhal— she was going to kill Daemon more easily, that was certain.

But it was a matter of honor and glory, too. Aeneas had to choose one victory to give Aemond as reward to appease him. Would he rather be known as the man who defended the Hightower army, crushed Rhaenyra's loyalists, and possibly brought them the Red Kraken, or would he rather be known as the man who killed Daemon Targaryen? She suspected that for Aemond, it was more important to do the latter. She wouldn't mind it, though she'd spent decades imagining Daemon dead at her hand. She should've done it when she had the chance, especially knowing what he'd seen when Otto had stopped her.

Their meeting was concluded there. Tyland was to leave at once— he said the simplest of goodbyes to Daella when she came to see him, offering her a peck on the lips and thanking her for her warmth. She told him only to be careful. She cared for him as a friend alone, and did not wish him dead.

He'd only just departed when the first true blow came, dealt by Rhaenyra. As they awaited the Tyrell answer of food, Rhaenyra had planned her own little gift— one that arrived in Blackwater Bay and caused madness to unfold. Everyone wanted some of the provisions Rhaenyra had sent, scrambling through the city like rats to achieve a piece.

Daella thought it ridiculous that although Rhaenyra had been the cause of the blockade, a simple gift of food was enough to turn the tides in her favor. Suddenly, everyone seemed to forget that their beloved queen was the reason they were starving in the first place.

Alicent and Helaena had been at the sept when it all unfolded. Aeneas had not been able to recall them in time when he realized what was about to happen. It was said that a fish had struck Alicent in the face and something had severely wounded her arm— Daella wasn't sure exactly what had happened, but Helaena had been terrified upon returning, her clothes rumpled, her veil torn, and bruises on her porcelain skin.

She had already seldom left her rooms since Jaehaerys's murder, and now it was almost certain to her that Helaena would never leave the castle again, much less ever see or fly Dreamfyre. A waste of a dragon, unfortunately, but they still had the advantage.

Or so they had thought. Larys himself had brought her whispers told to Lord Jasper Wylde by someone or another— Daella didn't really understand who had started the rumor or how Lord Wylde had found out about it, but in the end, Latys didn't believe there was any truth to it. Daella was set to believe otherwise. Seasmoke had been seen with a rider.

She almost wondered if Rhaena being sent away was meant as a decoy, that the girl had perhaps finally achieved a dragon for herself. Daella had scoffed at the mere thought of it— she would make even quicker work of Rhaena and Seasmoke than she had of Baela and Moondancer if that was the case. Though Seasmoke was larger than Moondancer had been, Daella knew that Rhaena understood nothing of dragons and had no hope to control him in a fight like that. Oh, how she'd relish the opportunity to rob Daemon of another child— now, would that she could have convinced someone to snatch Aegon and Viserys away. Perhaps Tyland and their Triarchy friends could achieve that...

For a moment they had a bit of calm, and even reason to celebrate. Aeneas's little wife was proving useful. At the first turn of the moon, she was already stated by Grand Maester Orwyle to be with child. Aeneas was ever pleased. He doted on the girl heavily, and despite Aelora's many huffs and glares, always had her present at dinners. With his decision to ration out some of their stores for the sake of the smallfolk, he gave more of his portions to Tyshara to nurture their unborn child. Daella was thrilled with the prospect of becoming a grandmother.

She noticed how unhappily Aemond took the news as well, but perhaps Aeneas had not. Her son was elated, of course, he'd never been so pleased and proud of himself. She could see it already— a beautiful golden-haired boy with purple eyes would be born, and Aeneas would hold him as he sat the Iron Throne.

Everyone else would come around to the idea eventually. Otto would be so proud. She wanted to write to him, but letters were going unanswered— Alicent had asked how he was and it seemed he might not have reached Oldtown yet. Aeneas had already sent riders out to find him and bring him back to the Small Council whilst Tyland remained absent.

At last, the good news brought Aeneas the confidence to act. Their Small Council had been meeting late one day when he told them he'd reached a decision. Aemond and Vhagar would go to the Reach to be an example for Daeron and Tessarion as they defended the Hightower army. He was also responsible for securing Princess Jaehaera's betrothal to the babe Lord Tyrell. Then, he was expected to fly to Pyke and use Vhagar's size and reputation to convince Dalton Greyjoy to join them, offering him anew Aelora's hand in marriage and a post as Master of Ships. Finally, Aemond was to fly from these destinations right to Storm's End to marry Floris Baratheon and cease all the questions Lord Borros kept sending through ravens about weddings and whatnot.

It meant Daella and Vermithor would be going to Harrenhal with the men. She liked it, for it meant returning to guard Gwayne and a chance to kill Daemon once and for all. She knew why Aeneas had made such a strategic choice. While Aemond might've bested Aemond on the ground with a sword, they would find themselves in the sky. Daella had far more experience as a dragonrider, and rode one with a temperament and sufficient youth to match Caraxes in the sky. Not to mention she felt no remorse, and if close enough, could lodge a blade into Daemon without need to even engage his dragon for too long. It was the right course of action.

But Daella suspected that this was what finally turned Aemond to impulsivity, in the end. She thought— when Aeneas came angrily to tell her the news he'd been brought— that she would hear Aegon was dead. With Helaena considered useless and her brother growing ever more fragile, she thought Aemond had finally done it, finally snapped for the sake of revisiting the discussion of who should be regent. In a real contest for the crown, would her son still win after only weeks of demonstrating his gifts?

It was worse than that.

"What were you thinking?" Daella had demanded Aeneas seize Aelora while she went to find Aemond. Her brother was alone in his rooms, perhaps waiting for her. "You married my daughter? My daughter, Aemond?!"

He turned to her slowly, lips curled sardonically. "Mayhaps my sister is unhappy because she was not allowed to see her daughter wed, and that is all. I promise you this was ever Aelora's wish."

She snarled in his face, "And what of our wishes for Dalton Greyjoy and Floris Baratheon? You have thrown our alliances into the fire. Lord Borros will take it as a slight! How is it that you continue ruining everything for us? Yet you thought yourself fit to be Regent."

His eye was dark. "Perhaps if you'd not intimidated Orwyle and Lannister into cleaving to your will, I'd have had my regency and I'd ensure all was as it should be."

"Nothing is as it should be, idiot boy! You have cost us time and again, for your impulsivity in killing Lucerys and chasing glory, in harming Aegon and now marrying Aelora. You are both petulant and believing yourselves cunning— I will call it what it is, it is banal and feckless. You are not doing your duty to your family or your rightful king, you are jeopardizing it all. This marriage will be annulled."

"That would be difficult to accomplish, sister," said Aemond, eye aflame and more wild than she had ever seen it. "I've bedsheets that state Aelora and I are well wed."

Her face felt like it was on fire— she wanted to kill him, eat him as Vermithor had eaten Baela and Moondancer. She wanted to see him choking in smoke and being torn apart by claws while his skin burned off. "You craven cunt. My daughter, you defiled my daughter?!" She smacked him across the face.

His head whipped to the side, but he did not retaliate. "I defiled no one. Do you know the rumors I've heard about youaround this castle, Daella? Rumors that concern me greatly about how you've incurred favor with those who have helped this cause. Do not claim righteousness. If anything, your daughter takes after you. She may not be a dragonrider, but the way she rode me last night suggests otherwise. She carries my child already."

Her eyes began to twitch. He said it so surely, a boy thinking he was man enough to impregnate a woman from a single night. But then, she knew Aemond and his taunts. Was he implying this was not the first time he and Aelora had bedded one another? She was trying to think about how he could not be located anywhere the night Jaehaerys was killed. All this time, could it have been that they'd carried out that affair? Could it be the marriage hardly had anything to do with Aeneas's decision and rather the fact Aelora was already with child?

"I can understand what drew you both together," she admitted, for it had to be said. Aelora was just like her, and Daella had always seen herself in Aemond— both desperate for more, hungry to be the best at everything, seeking rightfully deserved recognition for their talents. Being of age, both adventurous and good-looking, she knew they had found something special in one another. But to do it this way? To have kept it a secret? She would have blessed it years ago, before everything changed.

He raised his brows as she continued, "But what neither of you understand is the implications of what you've done. You may wish to provoke me with your accusations, but my actions have not affected this war and the alliances we wished—"

"Oh, come off it!" he spat, no longer thinking she was somehow going to find a way to support it. "We are following your example, dear sister, as you've shown us how easy it is to bypass consequences. Killing men left and right then turning around to levy your judgment at me. At me! It is I who should be sneering at you for all you've done, yet all I've ever done is follow your lead and admire you!"

He was being ridiculous, the only one of them that ever escaped consequences was Rhaenyra. Daella had been punished for the things she'd done— her killing of Lord Lyman had caused this trouble in the Reach. She at least remained valuable to their operation— Aemond had been a wild card for too long, and so his actions did not hold the value they should. He was a fool if he thought he was following her example, if he thought this showed admiration.

But he would never see it— he was a boy, just a boy in the end. "We will find a way to undo this marriage," she said sternly. "This cannot stand, it will make it all worse and you will have ruined it all. Your bluff on Aelora's pregnancy will be called and if not, drinking moon tea will—"

He shoved her so hard, she staggered back and collided violently with the bedposts. She cried out in pain, crumpling back and feeling the ache in her tailbone. Aemond advanced on her and lifted her by the throat, shaking her so hard her teeth chattered.

"You'll be lucky to ever be able to drink anything again," he threatened, hand clamped hard over her windpipe. She struggled to claw her way out of his grasp, eyes watering as he lifted her body off the ground. "You will not threaten my wife, you will not threaten me, you will not—" He stopped when he heard her gasping for breath, letting her fall. She coughed and spluttered, clasping at her chest as she sucked air back in. The burn in her throat was sharp, and she curled up with a whimper.

"Daella." He sounded remorseful, but she would not look up at him. "Daella, I apologize, I didn't mean to do it. Gods, I never mean to do anything to harm anyone. I never meant to kill Luke, you have to believe me. I didn't mean to hurt Aegon. But you come with all these snarls, always, you make me angry, you make me feel I've disappointed you. I only wanted to make you proud, I promise. Aelora and I, we will make this worthwhile, we will make you proud. I am looking to get her a dragon, she will be a fighter like the both of us. Daella... Daella, please get up, please, I didn't mean to hurt you."

But he had meant it, she knew. Everyone was always wanting to hurt her, it had been happening for years. She knew it had to end— this could not be allowed, Aemond was dangerous. If he would do this to her, knowing he erred, what wouldn't he do to Aegon or Aeneas if he thought it would secure him the throne?

She knew what she had to do– that which she had somewhat been preparing herself for. It wasn't what she wanted, but how else could she protect her children and Aegon? Things would be better this way, she told herself, it was one less person separating Aeneas from the Iron Throne, his main competitor gone. If Aegon succumbed, her son would undeniably be chosen as King, it had to be this way, it had to...

She needed him close, always bringing to play her advantages. She looked down and sniffled, extending her arm as if asking for his help to get up. He came to her and lifted her without question. As she rose, a blade slipped out from beneath her sleeve, tucked suddenly over where Aemond's throat pulsated. He froze, feeling the cold and, presumably, the end about to arrive.

"You would kill me?" he whispered, looking down at her. She wasn't sure what mixture of emotions he was feeling– anger, insult, betrayal, perhaps some admiration. "Me, your own brother?"

"I would kill anyone to protect my children," she whispered back. "I am sorry it had to come to this, Aemond." She could not give him an opportunity to repent– he would not forget she'd been willing to kill him. At any rate, this was the perfect time to do it if she would do it at all– the bruises forming on her throat would give her just cause to have reacted. The consequences would be less. "May the Stranger take you gent–"

She heard the whoosh of a blade right before she felt the pain in her side. She did not release Aemond, looking down to see the hilt sticking out between her ribs, her raised arm having left a passage to her heart exposed. She hadn't yet lifted her head when the second strike came, this time on her back.

She staggered away from Aemond, searing pain rushing through her body as she lowered her arm. Her strength left, but she managed to turn around to face her attacker, who delivered a third blade right into her chest when she looked upon her.

"I am sorry it had to come to this, Mother," said Aelora so calmly. "But you taught me that all things were possible, that I must always be ambitious." She strode to her as Daella's body burned, her knees giving out. "You always preferred Aeneas... enough so that you'd deny me a chance to be Queen. As for a dragon, I know which one I want, which one I deserve. Vermithor has called to me, and I shall have him at last. I thank you for your sacrifice."

The burn rose in her throat, and she struggled for breath. Aemond moved smoothly to stand beside Aelora, whose face showed no remorse. Daella began to smile, truly smile, for she knew they would not win. "Vermithor will not want you," she said, voice hoarse. "I have declared it... as I declare that my son..." She coughed, "Your brother..." She looked from Aelora to Aemond, "Your nephew..." Her body felt heavy, she sank down, "Will avenge me."

_

A note from Archmaester Gyldayn on this chapter of Fire & Blood

Much can be written about the more gruesome elements of the Dance, which followed the death of Princess Daella Targaryen. This would require another chapter in its entirety, however, to describe the accounts held on how Daella's children and siblings warred with each other. Many believe this may have been what ultimately opened a path for Rhaenyra to take the Iron Throne.

But which of these elements would we focus on? Shall we discuss how the first thing Prince Aeneas did, upon learning of his mother's death, is claim Vermithor as his mount? Shall we discuss how Princess Aelora is said to have attempted to force Queen Helaena to ride to battle in support of Aemond, and when she refused, slit her throat and claimed Dreamfyre for herself? Shall we discuss how, immediately after learning of these events, Prince Daemon told the entire Realm that Daella's children had been fathered by Ser Otto Hightower? The choice cannot be made without a severe deviation from the primary course of events in the Dance of Dragons.

In the end, what is known is that there was a great battle in the sky between Aeneas and Aemond on Vermithor and Vhagar, wherein both princes and their dragons lost their lives. It is known that Princess Aelora was killed at some point, for there is no mention of her surrendering to Rhaenyra once she took the city. We know that young Prince Alistair became a Maester and died young in the Citadel, having contracted an incurable disease, while his sister Princess Aemma died on the childbed many years later, her dragon Āeksion killed at some point while Rhaenyra held the city.

Princess Daella is remembered in the histories as a vicious and vindictive woman, one of the greater 'villains' in the Green Council. No confirmation was ever given on her rumored affairs with Ser Otto Hightower, Ser Tyland Lannister, or Lord Larys Strong. She is one of the prime examples in the saying, 'Every time a new Targaryen is born, the gods toss the coin in the air and the world holds its breath to see how it will land.' It is believed Rhaenyra was greatness in this era, while her sister was pure madness. Over time, the nickname 'Maegor the Cruel with Teats' was lost when used on Rhaenyra; for generations later Daella would come to be known not as 'Daella the Darling' as she hoped, but as 'Daella the Cruel, The Green Reaper.'

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A/N: Keep reading for the Final Author's Note!