Daenerys Targaryen

Winterfell, 400 years after the Doom

She awoke to a strong arm around her waist. Something Daenerys had only experienced a handful of times before her betrothed had travelled for Winterfell to live with his mothers family as per their custom. It wasn't something that occurred frequently in the families considering often the mother was of the same house as the father, yet it had proven fruitful. The system was put in place by Lady Freeholder Alysanne who believed that it would help to further tie the eleven together as one, especially considering how often the forty had fought in the Freehold itself.

At one point, every member of the ruling families lived within the Volcanic Face. A monstrously sized pyramid nearing eight hundred feet in height if the few tomes which survived that depicted it were indeed true. Situated at the base of the Fourteen Flames where most of their fortunes lay. Fortunes their ancestors had grown obsessed with to the point that their many slaves would perish simply by entering the mines by how far they were ordered to dig. The more they dug, the closer to the molten rock they got. And the more they dug, the less stable the ground was to keep the molten rock at bay.

No one could say for certain what had caused the Doom. There were theories, of course. Yet without being able to visit the area as even now the Doom resided, they could not study the damage to figure out the root. Perhaps they had lost control of their magic just once. Perhaps it was just natural. Perhaps they had caused it themselves by becoming people not to be looked up to and the gods had breathed their fiery wrath on them all. Stretching her body out and feeling a satisfactory pop at the base of her spine as she rolled over to face her betrothed.

It had been two years. Two whole years without waking up beside him, without running around Dragonstone with him, without flying through the skies with him over the Narrow Sea. Fingers reaching up to trail over his cheek which seemed to wake him from his own slumber as he yawned loudly.

"Rytsas, ñuhus jorrāeliarzus." (Hello, my dear.)

Daenerys felt her cheeks redden at the words somewhat before rolling over to get out of the very comfortable bed. Three days now she had been in Winterfell and even now she was enamoured by it. The sheer size of the Keep making the manse at Dragonstone look like a small house.

"Tubī sōvīli, Aemos." (We will fly today, Aemon.)

A large smile broke out on his face at her words. He'd wanted to do so not long after she had arrived yet she wished to get to know the place her betrothed was now living first. Pulling on some northern clothes which the Queen had offered her. It was a little large, especially around the breast area, but nothing unmanageable and was easily fixed by one of the royal seamstresses. The furs immediately warming her as she buried her face into it which caused Aemon to laugh at her expense. She'd heard many a time from sister Lyanna how cold the North could get but experiencing it for herself was something else. Even more so when the eldest Prince had stated that it was still summer in the North currently.

Many people were already seated in the Great Hall and a few eyes turned to face them, noticing at least a couple quirking an eyebrow their way. In the North, it wasn't customary for two people who were not yet wed to share a bed, yet it wasn't shameful in the Freehold. According to the Godly Flames, Aelaryx- the god of fertility- encouraged such a thing. However, it was considered a sin for a babe to be born to two people not yet wed, they would be considered a seed. A Dragonseed was one where both parents were of the eleven, whereas a Derseed was where one parent was not of the eleven. Despite them having the blood, they were either considered not of the blood or the more common- their blood was tainted.

They broke their fasts that morning on honeyed oats with an array of fruits local to the North. One in particular which was called a bush apricot which was extremely sweet and another which was known as aronia which was a little more sour yet not as sour as a raspberry.

"What are you two planning on doing today?"

Jonathor asked, Aemon's younger cousin through his uncle Brandon.

"We're planning on going flying together. We haven't done so since before Aemon came to Winterfell- "

"Can I come?"

Cregan, Arya, and Bran yelled at the same time only to be given a look that could silence anyone from the Queen for speaking out of turn.

"Would it be safe for them to get close?"

Robb asked curiously, looking to them both and awaiting an answer.

"So long as they remain behind us then yes, it will be safe. I swear so on the Old Gods of the North and the Fourteen of the Freehold."

Aemon continued and touched his left shoulder with his right hand as per their own custom when it came to swearing by their gods. It was clear both the King and Queen were hesitant despite them clearly trusting their words, instead changing the subject around to discuss the journey they would be embarking on the following day. Daenerys could fly, of course, Rhaelithox was large enough to travel much longer distances than Guēsin could, yet she could see the opportunity that came from travelling with the Stark's and Ryswell's.

By the end of the meal, it was decided that Cregan, Bran, and Arya could come but they would be escorted by a dozen men as a precaution. The journey to the clearing where her betrothed's dragon had made his nest took a little longer than it did a couple days prior when they had travelled to Winterfell together atop Aemon's horse, but that was to be expected given their numbers. Arriving at the treeline where they both ordered the others to remain until they could calm their mounts enough for them to get closer. Upon spotting her, Rhaelithox let out a loud screech of both annoyance at not vising him for a couple of days and excitement. Guēsin on the other hand chirped aloud a few times and beat his wings for a moment.

"Lykīri!" (Be calm!)

Daenerys shouted, reaching a hand out and walking closer slowly given the temperament of her mount. He was nowhere near as moody as Shadow, yet he was close. Rhaelithox letting out a small huff as she paused.

"Dohaerās!" (Serve!)

For a minute she stared into her mounts dark red eyes just as Rhaelithox stared into her own violet eyes. Finally, after what felt like hours had passed, her mount lowered his head confirming he was happy for her to get close as she reached over to pet his snout.

"Took long enough."

Aemon remarked having already gotten his own mount to lay flat so he could climb up his wing with ease into the saddle.

"Be quiet."

A loud laugh bellowed from him as he spoke to the others that they could get closer now. Arya and Cregan running initially before Jory yelled back to be careful. Whilst they were being reprimanded, Bran had come up to just beside her and looking to her with wide eyes asking permission silently.

"Let him smell your hand first."

Hesitantly, the ten-year-old done just that and was remaining remarkably calm given what he was stood in front of currently. Rhaelithox was a young dragon for sure, but for his age he was very large. Her mount snorting a little and raising his head to look at Bran quizzically for a moment with his dark red eyes. A small trail of smoke leaving his nostrils before he slowly sniffed at his palm. Only once Daenerys was confident did she give him a signal that he could pet his snout but only his snout.

"He's so warm."

"Dragons are fire made flesh, little wolf."

She looked over towards her betrothed who was similarly instructing his other two cousins and Guēsin was happily beating his tail and letting out a trail of chirps and purrs at the attention. Only a moment later her mount let out a louder snort but this time it was a warning one as she threw an arm out to push Bran away.

"Careful."

"Can you not order him not to?"

He asked, a small smile forming on her face at the words but answering for him anyway.

"I can, but he likely won't listen. How much of our tongue do you know, little one?"

"I can have conversations- "

That was enough for her as she snapped her fingers towards her mount to bring his attention back to her as she knew he would never harm her intentionally.

"Zaldrīzes dohaeriros iksos daor iā zaldrīzes buzdari iskos daor. Lo Ghīski Valyri iksā." (A dragon is not a slave or a dragon is not a slave. If you are Ghiscari Valyrian.)

Bran's eyebrows creased at her words as he tried to work out what she was saying but Aemon had heard her as he grumbled back.

"Valyri sosy daor." (They are not Valyrian.)

"Daor, yn Ezīmillio issi." (No, but they are of the Freehold.)

He didn't like her words. It wasn't a secret how much her betrothed detested the Ghiscari Valyrian's, on that he took the words of the North always remembering to heart. Five times the Ghiscari Empire had taken up arms with Valyria and five times they had been put down. A further attempt was made a little more than one hundred years ago to revolt but that had been swiftly put to rest by the Vaelaleas' and the Dallaeron's due to their close proximity to the Ghiscari cities.

"Pōnta sytilīptos daor." (They shouldn't be.)

A few curious eyes were looking at them now but she paid them not mind. Instead stating that they should remain behind the treeline so as not to accidentally be clipped by a wing when they took to the skies.

"Pōntāla buqā." (You hate them.)

"Issa." (Yes.)

The answer was immediate. It was rare Aemon held a grudge but he definitely did with those who resided east of Slaver's Bay. They had visited when they were younger to discuss trade deals and she remembered the walk of punishment well. Even now, the thought of the children being crucified was horrifying. It wasn't just the act itself that was, it was that this treatment was common in the Freehold of Old when a slave acted out against their master. A reminder of what they once were for, what they stood for, what they were known for. It disgusted her.

"Zaldrīzesdōrot māzisi? Skoro syt māzedia?" (Are they coming to Dragonstone? Why are you interested?)

Aemon asked more in a questioning tone. Both having climbed up the wings of their dragons and taken their seat in the saddles. Clipping the buckles and chains in place as a precaution, wondering if she should speak up on what was on her mind currently. Clearly her face was all the confirmation needed as he tilted his head to the side waiting on her continuing.

"Ñuha lēkia barduks..." (My older brother has written...)

"Ñuha kepa?" (My father?)

"Ziry ryptan." (I heard him.)

He went quiet at her words, yet Daenerys could see from the way his lips tightened as did his grip on the saddle increase that he wasn't pleased by them. Deciding then not to say anything else on the matter and enjoy their last day in Winterfell before they made the journey to Dragonstone the following day. Leaning over to grip the horns of the saddle once every buckle was tight on her legs and lower back and giving her betrothed a challenging grin.

"Sōvēs, Rhaelithoks!" (Fly, Rhaelithox!)

Sansa Stark

On route to Dragonstone, 400 years after the Doom

The ride to White Harbour took eight days. For the five days she had opted to ride alongside the others on a horse but soon her legs began to ache badly and had instead decided to join her mother in the wheelhouse. It wasn't a bad journey, especially with the dragon roads that now spread across the entirety of the North. Sansa had never known what it was like to not have them, yet Lord Freeholder Rhaegar had gifted them to her homeland. A part of Valyrian custom Maester Luwin said, similar to how when a Valyrian's mother came from another house they would live with their mothers family. When a babe was born and the mother was not from the same family, her family were gifted generously for bringing another into the flames of the Fourteen.

It didn't make much sense to Sansa, having not grown up with Valyrian custom. Her sister was fascinated by it, continually pouring over as many books as she could find on their ways given the eleven were so secretive to those outside of the Freehold. She knew more now though thanks to Aemon coming to live with them two years prior. Now, it was the end of his fostering in Winterfell and when he would next be in the North was hard to say.

She was excited to say the least. House Stark were lucky to have the familial link through her aunt Lyanna because it meant they did not need to seek permission to visit anywhere of importance within the Freehold. Anyone could visit the cities, but anywhere considered sacred not just any person could walk towards. Having spoken to her sister on what to expect alongside her sole older cousin considering he was of the eleven.

Lord Manderly greeted them outside the gates of White Harbour eagerly, spotting his granddaughters nearby and remembering then one was to become betrothed to Aeranor Rhaeleris soon. A match that likely wasn't being taken very well with many members of the eleven but according to Aemon, they were fond of one another. The only city in the North was large, with a population just shy of one hundred thousand. Rhaella letting out a loud sigh of relief as did Arya when the wheelhouse finally came to a stop and they stepped onto the ground.

"A ship is already awaiting in the harbour, my King. It is ready to set sail at your command."

The Lord of White Harbour spoke then, her father nodding his head in acceptance.

"We shall sail in the morning, my Lord. I believe my family would wish for comfortable beds before we sail for Dragonstone."

Wynafryd laughed a little at his words, being easy to tell apart from her sister due to her not having dyed her hair green like Wylla had done. They were given rooms that were incredibly ornate, watching Jeyne look around in wonder. In Winterfell, they didn't have riches like such on show, they didn't see the need for such a thing. Yet the Manderly's originally came from the Reach in the southern Kingdom's and had never fully let go of their roots. Sansa had spoken up for Jeyne to come with them, wishing for her friend to see more. Especially since her father was coming as part of their guard so it made sense to not separate them from one another. Aemon was hesitant considering she herself was never strictly invited but his betrothed confirmed she would speak up for her to her brother if required.

"What do you think Valyrian weddings are like?"

Jeyne asked excitedly when they had joined in Wynafryd's room to sew together that night. Neither Arya nor Rhaella had opted to do so which was expected. They both hated anything that was seen as ladylike, instead choosing to run after the boys in the courtyard. Sansa was fond of Rhaella- it was hard not to be fond of her- yet they didn't get along. The same went for her sister. She was more a boy than a girl which confused her and worried her mother massively who much like the Manderly's had never fully let go of her roots. It wasn't acceptable for a girl to not conform to what was expected of a Lady.

"Grand. I cannot say much on the matter other than it is an entire day event. Usually followed by a week of tourneys and festivals and markets throughout the city the wedding is held."

Jeyne was excited at the words that came from Wynafryd and it was clear she wished to ask more but a soft knock on the door broke them from their talks to alert them that evening meal was due to be served. The meal consisted of roasted swan, lamprey pie, and fresh crab caught off the shores only hours beforehand. The morning came quicker than she would've liked. The conversation not being picked up again and knowing that she would not get her answers until the wedding itself arrived. It was an odd thought, a thought that disgusted her despite knowing matches of such calibre were common in the Freehold. The sheer thought of marrying Robb or Bran had her stomach flipping. She'd gotten somewhat used to Aemon being betrothed to his aunt, even more so now she had gotten to know her somewhat from her short stay in Winterfell. Rhaenys and Aegon were brother and sister though, it was not normal. However, the Freehold was not the North and therefore she could not show disgust for their customs.

The ship awaiting them in the harbour had a large red sail but no sigil on it. Momentarily being confused before recalling the eleven did not have sigils like the House's of Westeros. Instead, they had a specific colour. Targaryen was dark red, Celtigar was white, Rhaeleris was a green so vibrant it was borderline painful to look at. Rhaentheon was navy, Caeniar a muted yellow, Velaryon a pale blue, Mellarys brown, Dallaeron had pink, Vaelaleas was lime, Velraenos was orange, and finally there was Tarennis purple. Many people had asked over the years why they did not take a sigil and every time they replied they were not Westerosi, and therefore they would not follow Westerosi custom.

A further fifteen days of travel followed before the lookout confirmed land was sighted ahead. Sansa being glad by such a thing as she never liked the swaying and rocking that came from travelling by ship. Speaking with Jeyne and Wynafryd and looking at everyone else around them. Robb and Wylla were stood side by side at the prowl, noticing her brother had his arm looped loosely around his betrothed's waist which had flutters rippling through her body. A roar breaking them from their conversation and barely reacting as she'd gotten used to Guēsin with her cousin living with them. After a few seconds though, she realised the roar was different. Barely, but different. Excusing herself as she walked out of the cabin to look only to see a pale orange dragon flying in circles overheard and getting closer and closer to the ship. Eyes widening due to the speed because surely it was going to crash through the wood. Instead, the dragon moved until it was flying alongside the ship and seeing two people seated on its back.

Both untying themselves of the buckles before climbing over the wing to jump over the railing onto the ship itself. A man and a woman. The man clearly being older with silver-white hair and pale lilac eyes. Not recognising him herself but the answer came soon after as Rhaella yelled.

"Maelus!" (Maela!)

The woman with pale golden hair and icy blue eyes turned around just in time as Rhaella jumped at her, catching her cousin and spinning her on the spot so fast her legs were kicking everywhere as she fought to steady herself. Understanding dawning on her as there only was one Valyrian by the name of Maela. Maela Velaryon, youngest child and only daughter of Lord Freeholder Monford of Driftmark and Salaera Galaelor. Her mother had died during a war when Maela hadn't even reached her first name-day yet. Instead being taken under her aunt Daera Rhaentheon's wing and raised as a sister to her cousin Aeressa Velaryon who was wed to Maela's older brother Monterys. The man could only be her husband, Daenerys' brother and Aemon's uncle Viserys. Now that Sansa was looking at him more closely, she could see the resemblance between the siblings. Viserys' face was a little more narrow and long than his younger sisters was, but their eye shapes and noses were identical.

"Skorkydoso glaesā, bykus zoklus ñuhus?" (How are you, my little wolf?)

Rhaella took offense at the words clearly as she argued back.

"Tolvie zokle ikson daor! Ezīmos zaldrīzī iksan!" (I'm not all wolf! I'm part dragon!)

To add more to her annoyance, her younger cousin proceeded to stomp on the ground which caused Viserys to snort in amusement before clapping Aemon on the back and glaring to his sister and mutter something only they could hear. Likely berating Daenerys for coming to Winterfell with no notice. Her father had a smile on his face at her words and also likely wondering whether it was Arya and Bran who were the bad influence on Rhaella, or if it was Rhaella who was a worst influence on Arya and Bran. The island they had passed turned out to be Claw Isle, which many considered to be the first city of the New Freehold. It was difficult to say with certainty given Braavos had gone however long in the shadows before being discovered and taken over by the Rhaeleris' though. A further six days and soon Dragonstone was up ahead. From where they were, it simply looked like a small volcanic island. Yet the closer they got Sansa found her mouth slowly opening in awe at the sheer size of the city.

Expanding to almost all corners and leaving little greenery, buildings up the side of the Dragonmont, the manse situated on the highest hill and the castle of Dragonstone at the base of the Dragonmont. The massive tower of the temple towering over everything. According to Aemon, Dragonstone had not always been such a large island. At first there were a handful of villages, which expanded into a handful of towns. Then the Dragonmont had breathed its fires which had rolled down into the sea surrounding the island and spreading out. For nearing a decade no one had dared to build on it- fearing it was too unstable. Yet soon there wasn't enough room for the way the population was growing rapidly in the city. The Dragonmont had breathed fires a further three times since and every time it did, the larger the island got meaning more buildings were built and more people moved to the city. Reaching the Northern Harbour not long after and seeing three more dragons flying overhead which landed just off the edge of the Harbour and the riders got off their backs.

"It's so large."

Sansa spoke, not being able to keep her words in any longer.

"If you think Dragonstone is large, wait until you see Volantis one day. In comparison, Dragonstone is a small town."

Viserys answered her silent question. Eyes widening a little more at the words but finally calming her face as they began to step off the ship.

"Kirimvē Rhaenys Aegōn urnegon iōrā, Rhaellus?" (Are you happy to see Rhaenys and Aegon, Rhaella?)

Viserys asked again, her younger cousin answering just as sharply as she had earlier.

"Ñuha lēkia mandiā hakēnna, kepus." (I'll annoy my older brother and older sister, uncle.)

At the words, her father, Viserys, Aemon, and Robb threw their heads back and laughed at her words. All ignoring the raised eyebrows from the many others that were already off the ship and getting on the ship. This did not last for long though as Arrax huffed aloud and flew towards them screeching loudly and snapping at their faces.

"Dohaerās, Arraks! Lykirī!" (Obey, Arrax! Be calm!)

The tiny dragon hissed a little and snapped one more time at Robb's face before snorting and flying away.

"Remind me not to anger Arrax when she's grown, Aemon."

"I will, cousin. Come."

They were led up to where the others had gotten off their dragons as she took in the colourings. Shadow the large grey and black mount of Rhaegar, Aerithor the pale cream and gold mount of Aegon, and then there was Rhaenys purple and pink dragon with hold highlights. Both Guēsin and Rhaelithox letting out a series of chirps before the others flew off after them elsewhere in the city. Likely towards the Dragonmont as that was where they nested like Aemon had told them when he'd first come to the North. Her aunt Lyanna was there as was Princess Elia of Dorne, stood by either side of their husband and Aemon's father Lord Freeholder Rhaegar. Out of the three siblings, Rhaegar looked far more like Viserys than he did Daenerys. Yet his eyes were such a deep shade of purple they almost appeared black.

"Welcome to Dragonstone, goodbrother and goodsister. I trust my son and daughter have not caused too much trouble with their time in the North?"

Rhaegar asked with a slight laugh towards the end, already knowing the answer was anything but that. Aemon and Rhaella both catching on too as they shot their father a glare before being pulled into a tight hug by her aunt Lyanna. Greetings were shared before an ornate wheelhouse was drawn up with six Valyrian horses with their gleaming pale golden coats sparkling in the sun. The wheelhouse was considerably larger than the ones in the North, easily fitting all of them whereas their guards were following in the next two wheelhouses which had also appeared not far behind. The whole time taking in everyone she was with and spotting the obvious resemblance. Despite both Rhaenys and Aemon not stereotypically looking like Valyrian's, it was clear they shared Valyrian traits which they'd gotten from their father. Aegon and Aemon had faces that were almost identical to one another, the only difference being the colour of their eyes and their hair colour, alongside Aemon's face being long like the Stark's. Rhaella undeniably looked the most like a True Valyrian. Small talk was made as they rode towards the manse and seeing numerous stalls of street vendors and people going about their daily activities. Mouth watering as they passed a large bakery and knowing she would visit it some day during their visit for the wedding that would be occurring at weeks end.

It was clear when they did arrive. A large hedge separating the manse from the rest of the city alongside doors of black stone intricately carved with various glyphs which were hard to make out from where she was seated. The gates being opened as the wheelhouse entered and eyes widening as she took in the manse. Sansa recalled the time where she had visited Riverrun with her mother when she was younger and being in awe at how grand the Keep's of the south were. Yet in comparison they were merely grey bricks.

The manse was two levels high and seemed to curve like a circle but never enclosing, dozens of pillars along the front for people to walk within. The building itself appearing to be made of sandstone but had a lot of gold and red inlays in various patterns along each pillar which were also intricately carved. In the centre a large domed portion with arches at least thirty feet in height, a marble roof, more of that gold inlay and even more carvings. The closer they got to the domed portion noticing each pillar were carved to each depict one of the fourteen gods and all were painted to show such. Myrish glass and stained glass windows surrounded, hedges shaped to look like dragons, statues littering the expansive grounds. What really caught her attention however was the large pond directly in front of the manse. She'd heard from Rhaella that they often swam in it when it got really warm, yet seeing it still shocked her over the sheer beauty.

Inside the manse was even more beautiful than outside the manse which Sansa did not believe was possible. The inner walls being covered in tapestries, carved marble, or sandstone chipped into highly ornate patterns. Statues of creatures that had existed in the Freehold of Old and may still exist in what was left. Rhaenys was walking alongside her now and offered to show both herself and Jeyne to their rooms which they happily accepted as they broke away from the group and headed up to the second level. Passing by a wall that had a carving on it considerably different to the ones she had seen on the floor below. Aemon's older sister realising what had caught her attention and pausing so she could take it in.

"We add to it with every generation. This carving shows every member of our House there has been that we know of."

Sansa's hand reached out to run her fingers over the names. She'd read about them all in her many lessons growing up yet only now did it sink in that she was in a building that the people these names belonged to had once walked through. The manse was built by Lord Freeholder Jaehaerys for his sister-wife Lady Freeholder Alysanne, and the family had officially moved from the castle of Dragonstone to the manse after the death of their eldest daughter Daenerys. Noticing some were carved over so there was simply just a dent of where they had once been.

"Why are these names blocked out? If it is a depiction of your entire family?"

She asked, curiosity getting the better of her in this moment. The older girl with them giving her a slight look but answering.

"It is custom that whenever someone does something that goes against the gods, their names are to be wiped as if they never existed"

"That's horrible. I won't say House Stark hasn't had it's fair share of unworthy people but pretending they never existed..."

It was only once she had spoken the words did she realise they could be interpreted as treasonous. Bowing her head in repentance but the half Rhoynar-half Valyrian smiled warmly her way confirming she was not offended by the words.

"The Freehold is not the North, sweet one."

It was Jeyne who asked the question that was now bothering her.

"Why were they blocked out? I'm assuming the family knows?"

Her hand was hovering over one of many children of Jaehaerys and Alysanne, trying to recall from her lessons which one it was and wondering if their names were also removed from existence outside of the Freehold too.

"Many reasons. The one you're pointing towards now was Saera Targaryen. She took the blood renouncement of her vow to wed her brother Vaegon as an insult. She stole a clutch of eggs from underneath her fathers nose in anger and fled for Volantis to garner favour with the Caeniar's. Granted, this was only ten years after the Caeniar Uprising where they lost all their dragons so it was obvious why she had taken dragon eggs to Volantis. She married their Archon, gave him five sons but the fifth didn't look like her or her husband. Instead of passing the babe off she confirmed she had lain with a seed of House Caeniar. Not only that, but she had taken him as a second husband."

Jeyne's face slowly morphed into one of disgust and it was hard to keep her own face straight at the words. Instead repeating one of a handful of Valyrian laws which she did know to be true.

"A man can have as many wives as he wishes, but a woman can only ever have one husband"

"Yes. She was banished from the black walls and sent to live in west Volantis where she purchased her own manse to turn it into a large pleasure house."

"She chose to be a whore?"

Her surprise clearly caught the older off guard as she gave her an odd look. Rhaenys sighing a little and walking further down the line as they got closer to their rooms.

"She was never known as a Targaryen again."

There was only one other prior to Saera that was also carved out and not being able to hold her curiosity again.

"And this one?"

"Lord Freeholder Baelon Targaryen. He held the title for a meagre fifty-two days."

Fifty-two days? That may just be the shortest reign of the title of Lord Freeholder she'd ever heard about.

"What happened to him?"

Rhaenys' nose upturned a little confirming whatever the reasoning for such a thing was not something she agreed with.

"He killed his brother Aelyx who held the title for nearing five years. Aelyx was indecisive and wasn't considered strong enough to be recognised as a Freeholder, Baelon believed he was better suited."

Horror rippled through both Sansa and Jeyne at the words. It had happened in many families, it had even happened in House Stark multiple times, yet it was never something nice to know.

"Is it not a sin to kill one of your own blood? It is in the North and from what I've read it is in the Freehold too."

"It is, there is one way it is permitted and for the person who does the slaying to not be seen as cursed by the fourteen. If the person who is to die has done something not accepted by the gods solely to elevate their own power and position, they are no longer considered of the blood. Which is where Lord Freeholder Daemion comes in."

Their youngest brother. Understanding sinking in and speaking the answer before having it confirmed.

"So Baelon killed Aelyx for power, which is not accepted under the fourteen, and by honour Daemion killed Baelon in repentance which is accepted under the fourteen."

"I wouldn't say repentance, more security. Daemion already had a son of his own, and if Baelon was so open in killing Aelyx he rightfully assumed he may kill his son to secure his position further. A belief shared by Baelon's wife Laena Tarennis who got the information to Daemion's wife Aerea Rhaentheon- "

"What happened to Laena? I assume Daemion wed her in Valyrian custom by taking her as a second wife to preserve her honour?"

By now, they had stopped outside of an ornate door which Sansa assumed to lead to their rooms for their stay.

"He did, she died a year later in childbed with twins. Neither twin survived the birth and they were burned in the fires of His Almighty. Now, I shall leave you both to get settled. A maid will be arriving within the hour with clothing for evening meal."

For reference here are a couple notes:

Valyrian horses = Akhal Tekes. Specifically the golden coloured ones.

The manse of Dragonstone is loosely based off of the Palace of Fine Arts in San Francisco if you prefer visual to imagine buildings.