She did not hear birds chirping.

This was uncommon. Dangerous, even. Amalia awoke, still tangled in Daemon's bedsheets, and felt the sun warm on her feet. There were distant ocean waves, even the flap of dragon wings– someone was circling the castle. But no birds, none, not even when there should have been birds this early in the morning. She'd heard them the day before, she'd heard them every early morning on Dragonstone since she'd first visited.

The sunbeam was further into Daemon's room than it usually was in her room. Perhaps the way it was oriented. The apartments were grand, stone dragons at the corner of each archway, rough stone covered with tapestries of Old Valyria. There was more of a sitting area than in the room she'd been assigned when she first came, the room that Viserys and Aemma used to stay in when they came to Dragonstone. That, of course, was likely because Viserys's room still accommodated some other models of Valyria, while Daemon's room seemed to focus more on conversation, on life.

She squinted at the window, curtains parted just enough that the sun could caress her skin. They'd been drawn closed, for they certainly hadn't been when she and Daemon fell into the bed that evening. Gods, so many must have heard them, even though Amalia had tried to be quiet. She'd be badgered with questions. Daemon's usual servants were probably aware that they hadn't been allowed into the room for their morning cleaning.

She turned her body at the sound of footsteps. Daemon was clad in his dragonriding armor, brow beaded with sweat. Had he left in the middle of the night for watch? It looked as though he'd been out many hours. "Daemon," she said groggily. "Did you sleep at all?"

"I slept very long," he said, brushing off his helm. "I would've gladly remained in bed with you, had I not told Baela I'd take her watch for the morning."

That was when Amalia sat up sharply, lifting the blankets to cover her chest. "The morning?" Gods, no wonder the birds were not singing. No wonder the sunbeam was so far in. No wonder Daemon looked to have been out so long. It wasn't morning at all. Amalia couldn't remember the last time she had ever slept in. "I've missed most of the day!"

His lips curled. "And I am glad for it, because it seems that's the most you've slept in ages. Even your boys were surprised that you'd not yet risen. Morning prayer, Daeron says, then your rounds for them, then breakfast... I don't think you were ever relaxed even on your visits to Dragonstone, for I remember you'd be awake before any of the rest of us."

Amalia rubbed her eyes sheepishly. "My boys, they must think me so neglectful. They'll surely change their minds about their support for us." She felt the bed move as he sat beside her. She opened her eyes as he removed his riding glove with his teeth, then reached his knuckles out to caress her cheek. "I do hope they are not upset with me."

"Upset?" Daemon started to laugh. "Those boys have never been so entertained. Daeron and Baela are taking a turn on patrol now, and in the morning I had the knights instructing them all in knife throwing. It seems they've all been eager to try it– Jaehaerys is certainly better at that than he is with his swords, I'll tell you. I had them join Rhaenyra's boys and my girls for breakfast, and I asked Rhaena to guide them all through a morning reading to practice their High Valyrian."

When had Viserys ever taken such initiatives with his children? If Amalia did not tend to them, no one would– not unless they were paid to. She'd always kept the same routine, always been there for every bit of the day she could, to remain involved in their interests. Wordlessly, Daemon had kept them busy the way she would've liked them to be, and had done it all without expecting anything in return. Simply because he knew that it was what she wanted.

"What of the Small Council?" she asked tiredly, feeling herself being lulled back to sleep with the way he massaged the back of her neck. "Surely I missed that."

He shrugged, "I asked them to make the meeting take place in the evening, to give time for ravens to bring more messages. We've heard back from only a few allies. Not all are so near. The most important reply came an hour ago from Lord Harwin Strong. Tonight, we may discuss our next steps." He dipped down to kiss her forehead. "Rest, if you still need to. Don't worry, your boys are well taken care of. I am sure Jaehaerys is still out there throwing knives with Rhaena... or perhaps they have gone to play with Joffrey now, perhaps they joined Laenor and Lucerys on a boat that will go monitor the progress of the Velaryon blockade of the Gullet. Really, there are many things for them to do. They'll not be bored."

Through a weary smile, she leaned over to kiss him. "Thank you. For watching my boys." It put her at ease, knowing they'd be well taken care of here even without her constant presence. She'd never been so relaxed, in spite of all that was going on. It was a small comfort.

"Always," he promised. "It is the least I could do. They may not be my sons, but they are still my nephews. I want them to be well, to be boys in spite of all this. They must be reminded of the small pleasures this life has." He kissed her again. "As I am reminded of other pleasures, each moment I spend with you." Her smile became lopsided, shy. Such simple words could truly make butterflies leap away inside her. She would've begged him to have her right then and there all over again, but there was work to be done.

After she bathed, she went to her apartments and sat in her solar until she'd written the letter she hoped to spread throughout the smallfolk– words of her own that would be read and spoken to those who needed to hear them. She told them the truth– how she and her children became captives, how she and her youngest sons were able to escape. How Aemond was beat and Helaena and Aegon forced to marry. How Viserys died without changing his mind about having Rhaenyra as heir. She told them she became their Queen because of Hightower ambition, but that she had never wavered in her support in King Viserys's decision. Rhaenyra was their true Queen, as Laenor was their true King Consort. Jacaerys was the true heir to the Iron Throne. She reminded them of her own words, of her prayers, repeated for years as she'd made it known that she was not Rhaenyra's enemy.

She made her suffering sound as miserable as she could. She wrote of her heartbreak, how she felt the gods had abandoned her, how she struggled to sleep and rise in the mornings because she missed her children so very much and didn't know what was happening to them at any moment. It was all true, but highly exaggerated. She didn't like writing about her feelings so openly, but she had to use their love for her to incite anger, to incite rebellion. May the gods forgive me for it.

She told them that her children, the siblings of Rhaenyra and children of Viserys and their beloved Queen Amalia, were hostages. Trapped in their own home by the grandfather and aunt that were supposed to love and protect them. She said that Rhaenyra was beside herself, too, and was doing all that she could to free them. She was mobilizing her forces to take her throne, but she did not wish to hurt anyone, only to see everything set right. The Greens would bring war, the Greens wanted to hurt and maim, they were already doing so for anyone with eyes to see...

It was a lengthy letter, and not one she was entirely proud of. Still, when finalized, she walked it to Maester Gerardys and asked his help in transcribing several copies. By then, Jaehaerys and Rhaena had made themselves known– they'd been running around with Joffrey until they heard Amalia was awake. Then, the poor things had been roped into transcribing, too. Amalia joined them, much as her hand ached. Jaehaerys's wrist was ever sore from throwing knives, but there was such light in his eyes– she'd never seen him so excited about something, not swords and not dragons. He spoke humbly of himself but still with an air of admiration for his own deeds– he said that his uncle Daemon had been so proud of him, he'd said so. Gods, when had Viserys ever told them that he was proud of them? Sometimes, it was all a child needed to hear.

By the time the afternoon patrol was ending, Amalia had arranged for her family, Daemon's, and Rhaenyra's to dine together preceding the Small Council session. Baela and Daeron arrived freshly bathed for roasted potatoes, soft and caramelized onions, and fish bathed in the sweetest orange juice. She felt she'd accomplished so little, yet her boys and the other children had had full days. They spoke so excitedly, even in the midst of everything. Nothing could take from them their childlike wonder and optimism.

She watched the children sharing conversation and exchanging jokes as though nothing in life was so bad. Amalia wished dearly that Aegon, Aemond, and Helaena could be there to watch Jaehaerys catch cranberries flung by Lucerys in his mouth, to hear Rhaena's giggling as Baela and Jacaerys arm wrestled, to listen to Jacaerys speak with the same cadence as his mother– how he mimicked her, how he admired her. A part of it gave her hope.

"The allies we've expected have shown support," said Maester Gerardys as Jacaerys began to move pieces about the Painted Table, demonstrating where their armies would gather. They had already, through the Small Council members, the sworn allegiance of Houses Celtigar of Claw Isle, Staunton of Rook's Rest, Massey of Stonedance, Bar Emmon of Sharp Point, Darklyn of Duskendale, and Velaryon of Driftmark. "Our Lady Hand's letters were returned today. Elmo Tully has replied on behalf of his grandsire, Lord Grover. He has spread his own word to the other lords of the Trident and the Riverlands and has elected to raise his banners for 'the Dragon Queen.' We've received word that the Freys of the Twins, Blackwoods of Raventree, Mootons of Maidenpool, Pipers of Pinkmaiden Castle, Rootes of Harroway, Darrys of Darry, Mallisters of Seagard, and Vances of Wayfarer's Rest will all ride for Harrenhal at once."

Amalia wrung her hands together, watching Jacaerys move several pieces to Harrenhal. The support of Elmo Tully meant much, though she had expected Lord Grover might not be all there with his old age. Perhaps he didn't understand what was going on, or perhaps he was still of a mindset that did not value women. Regardless of Elmo's reasoning (which Amalia suspected would be more because Riverrun was incredibly vulnerable to any dragonfire and even then the marching of an army from Harrenhal to them), their support meant much.

"Lady Jeyne Arryn of the Vale sends her assurances of an alliance," added Maester Gerardys. "She writes that her own kin have sought to replace her as Lady of the Vale many a time, and she sees the truth of Rhaenyra– she is the rightful queen and her own blood besides. The Vale and its knights are promised to us, though she has added a request. She fears dragons, not armies, for the Eyrie is impregnable and the Bloody Gate has broken many a man. She asks for a dragon to guard the Vale."

At this, Rhaenyra lifted her gaze to the dragonriders gathered around the table. The largest dragons could in no way be spared– Rhaenys and Daemon were needed here, for Meleys and Caraxes alone could defend Dragonstone against whatever threat the Greens tried to launch. The children, however, had their share of beasts. Jacaerys and Lucerys could not be spared, but Amalia suspected this could easily be asked of either Baela or Daeron– and she knew neither of them would like it.

"Joffrey," said Jacaerys at once. Rhaenyra gave him a look of incredulity. He explained, "Neither of my uncles nor Helaena would ever take to dragonback for this cause. She does not need a large dragon, and it would put him away from the fighting. He is one of your heirs, Mother, he should be protected."

Rhaenyra clearly didn't like the idea of this. She turned to Amalia, seeking advice. Amalia didn't feel it was her place to give it, but she said carefully, "Prince Jacaerys is right. Your succession is small, Princess, and with your older boys expected to be on patrols, delivering messages, and even traveling to see our armies... we must leave nothing to chance. Lady Arryn would be most honored to host one of your sons and Tyraxes will still deter anyone who seeks to question herin the same manner. Were Helaena here, I know she would be most happy to take Dreamfyre to the Vale and escape all this, but, alas, I must turn to our next most innocent with a dragon."

"Rhaena will accompany him," offered Daemon, putting a hand on his daughter's shoulder. "She has been in the caves with me, collecting eggs each time Silverwing or Syrax have thrown clutches. We've need to keep them safe, and I believe one of these may yet hatch for her. Rhaena's presence in the Vale would make her more uniquely suited to communications with the North and the Riverlands."

Pursing her lips, Rhaenyra gave a nod. "Then we will send a response to Lady Jeyne." She looked back to Maester Gerardys, prompting him to go on. The maester cleared his throat, "Lord Desmond Manderly of White Harbor wishes to treat further, as he states his own forebears were despoiled of their birthright when their enemies drove them into exile on the cold northern shores. He cites, however, that Princess Viserra's hand was once promised to his great-grandsire, and that this promise was forgotten. A rather queer letter, yet indicative nevertheless."

"A marriage pact, then," spoke Jacaerys bravely. "Lord Desmond has many daughters, does he not? One is near Joffrey's age. I say we betrothe them. I've no doubt this is merely the first of the many betrothals we will have need to make."

He was not wrong. Though the other letters did not imply this so directly, Amalia knew that many of the houses would expect some sort of reward for their support. The great houses in particular. Another offer was extended to Lord Cregan Stark, who had a year-old son named Rickon, to have his boy wed Jacaerys's firstborn daughter when they came of age, though the girl could be fostered at Winterfell from the age of seven.

There was word as well about the moves their enemies were making. Amalia made note that her father had been re-established as Hand of the King, while Tyland Lannister was named Master of Coin to replace Lord Beesbury. To fill the post of Master of Ships, word had been sent to young Dalton Greyjoy, a boy of sixteen. She was relieved to have been ahead of that– one of her letters had gone right to him, in the hopes he could be easily swayed. If her father got the Greyjoys, however, they would be able to match the strength of House Velaryon at sea. Daemon had heard that Dalton Greyjoy loved blood and battle– if he saw the opportunity to watch men burn rather than burn with them, he'd surely side with Rhaenyra.

They ended the meeting with her explanation of her plan to turn the people of King's Landing against the Greens, destabilizing the city from within. She read to them the letter she wished to send, feeling a chill down her spine as she watched all their reactions to her exaggerated misery. That was what she had to expect from the smallfolk– confusion, horror, sympathy. Her father would surely have the smallfolk feeling that with the incoming lack of food, and he would try to pin the blame on Rhaenyra, but not if Amalia made him and Alicent and everyone else on the Green Council out to be villains first.

"The people matter more than anything, if we aim not to burn every inch of the Seven Kingdoms," said Amalia. "They fear dragons, they see them as gods, and they hold the power to remove someone from the throne. It doesn't matter whether we win this war if the people don't want Rhaenyra to be their Queen. Realistically, our allies are not as easily mobilized as what the Hightower army already did in preparation for this. They have that advantage, as we have the advantage in the sky... but to burn misguided individuals alive will not bring us closer to our goal. We will show them that they do not need to fear us. Cruel as it sounds, we will show them that we are their saviors."

They reacted well, precisely as Daemon had thought. Amalia received many hopeful little smiles (though some of the men seemed to be faking their support). She knew they wanted to go with more force, and presumably Daemon wouldn't have minded it, but he knew very well that they were to abide by Rhaenyra's will and that there was no sense in burning the castle they expected to live in. A show of force could be made without fire. He knew how much it meant to them to maintain peace and stability.

She went to find her boys at long last, right as they were readying themselves for bed. They each had a million stories to tell her about that day alone, and made no question or comment about how she'd slept in all morning. Perhaps they were hoping for her to keep doing it. Amalia wondered sometimes if she'd spoiled them by being far too attentive– sometimes, children did need their space. She gave them what she could, but in her own fear, perhaps that had been too little.

"Your betrothed is being sent to the Eyrie," said Jaehaerys, flicking a knife between his fingers and making Amalia's heart skip several beats as it whirled around. "Shouldn't you be going with her?"

Daeron scowled, though his cheeks reddened at the mention of Rhaena as his betrothed. They spoke often, she noticed, but they hardly seemed to want to think about the fact they might one day be married. Rhaena, perhaps more obviously, looked to him with an adorable bit of admiration and intrigue. Daeron was more married to books at the moment than he was willing to be to anyone else. Amalia had at least been told that Daeron had carved a little flower for her out of a wooden block he found in the yard.

"I cannot be spared," said Daeron with a shrug. "I am needed here, or at least Tessarion is. There is naught I can do at the Eyrie unless it is to serve us as a base of communication. Rhaena is perfectly capable of handling the ravens that may fly there, though there won't be many. She's a much more difficult task, to protect those eggs and protect Joff. He's third in line for the throne, and she's practically being made responsible for raising what could become our future king, should Jace and Luke decline it or choose another path."

"I don't think he should become King," said Jaehaerys, unable to help but pursue that thought further. Amalia saw the gleam in his eyes, how he always liked to think of hypotheticals. "If he's to marry a Manderly girl, I don't think we should have a Manderly Queen."

Daeron rolled his eyes. "You just want Helaena to be Queen." Jaehaerys threw his hands up as if that was obvious. "You won't get out of trouble simply because our sister becomes Queen. Mother was Queen and we still got scolded." He winked at Amalia, who was mindlessly rubbing between her fingers a handkerchief that Helaena had embroidered for her.

Jaehaerys scrunched up his nose, narrowing his eyes at his mother. "That is so. But Helaena will be more lenient with us because she'll be busy with her own babes." Daeron gave him a look of incredulity, prompting Jaehaerys to say, "Well, I suppose maybe she might have time to scold us, but I'll be fine. I'm going to go and find adventure anywhere I want like Uncle Daemon did. Oh!" He perked up, looking at Amalia. "He told me to tell you that he has something important to say. You ought to find him after we go to sleep."

Amalia raised an eyebrow at him, wondering what that was about. Daeron didn't seem to know, for he simply made a face and went back to his notes– he was reading something with several maps drawn in, perhaps playing at a bit of strategy. She admired how her boy always wanted to know more. Thinking she ought to find Daemon soon, she went to kiss the boys goodnight. A glance at the page showed her that it was a map of the area surrounding the Eyrie. She pretended not to notice that he'd written down notes about how safe it would be for Rhaena there.

"Mother." Jaehaerys tilted his head up after she pecked his forehead, smiling when she caressed his hair. "Mother, you're a good Hand to Nyra. Father should've made you his Hand."

"I asked your father to make Rhaenyra his Hand," she reminded him. "She needed the experience and I was already his consort; my words were being heard where they mattered most. Your father was not the best at maintaining interest in Small Council meetings. Rhaenyra learned much in her years as Hand, handling his affairs. Besides, if I had been Hand, I'd not have had time to watch you all grow." She ran her thumb gently over his cheek, seeing in his purple eyes that shine she hoped would never go away. "I love you both very dearly, I hope you know that. Nothing has changed and nothing will ever change. I would do anything for both of you."

"We know," said Daeron. "But we want you to do things for yourself, too. Promise me you will, Mother." He gave her that pleading look, the same way he used to look at her as a little boy begging to be allowed back in the library after his bedtime.

Amalia tried for a smile. "I will do my best to see to that, Daeron. Try not to stay up too late with your books, your eyes will ache come morning." She kissed his head again. "I hope it will all be better soon. Much will change with our letter. Soon, I hope to be able to take us home again. After that, I promise... I'll enjoy myself. After all..." She tickled his chin, "I will have the greatest fun planning four weddings for my babes. A fifth, if Jaehaerys meets a pretty girl in his travels."

"I want to meet the Martell princesses," said Jaehaerys sternly. "I swear I can be as fun as Dornish people are. That's the first place I'm going to travel when the war is over." Gods, how Amalia hoped he would achieve all his little dreams and see all the places he thought were interesting. When the war is over. When, when, not if.

Daemon was waiting in her apartments for her, making it far easier than searching about the castle for him. He was dressed, and not at all for bed. It was not armor either, however, which meant he wasn't about to take a night patrol with Caraxes. Something was afoot... he even had a cloak in his hands.

She fell to her knees before him, searching for an explanation. He took her hands at once, cold as if he'd been outside. "There is a boat waiting to take me to King's Landing," he said hurriedly. "I needed to say goodbye to you before I went. A letter arrived from Mysaria just after the Small Council meeting– I know how to get someone into the castle for your children."

Her heart skipped a beat. "Two men who bear a mislike for your father will help us," said Daemon. "I will give them my instructions. One is a ratcatcher– he knows the tunnels in the main castle, but hardly the ones winding around Maegor's Holdfast. I will make it clear to them that Helaena is their top priority. I will see what they've noticed in past days for Aemond and Aegon– they'll be more heavily guarded because they have the ability to fight their way out as your daughter does not. There will be no dragons today– Dreamfyre will have to wait in the Dragonpit. I promise you, at the very least, Helaena gets out tonight."

She sat up to kiss him, holding his knees and pressing her lips hard into his. "Thank you, thank you, thank you." She cupped his face, thinking to herself a prayer to all the Seven– may they protect Daemon and these men that would be helping him, may they be able to enter and leave the castle safely and discreetly, and may her children emerge with them. Gods, it was so close, she could feel it, she could imagine holding them in her arms again.

"For you, anything," said Daemon. He kissed her back, then held the back of her neck. "Pray, sleep, rest. Don't rise early tomorrow morning, either, we won't be back by then anyway. Dream the sweetest dreams and I promise you I will make them come true. With Helaena out, they will need to do something quickly. By then, your letter will be circulating King's Landing. They may try to spin some tale to quickly marry Aegon off again, but the people will be stirred by it and we will stoke well the fire within them. The fruits of your labor are paying off, Amalia, every last thing you did for them will bring you a harvest tenfold. You have earned it."

_

A/N: Not feeling the best mentally so updates will continue to take awhile. I really don't know where I want to go with this story anymore since I did make it so much happier LOL. I am super eager for my next two stories though, what I really need is more time to actually make updates once they are published. Slow and steady progress will be made for this fic, but I *may* (no promises) publish my next fic before this one is finished. We'll see how it goes. Hope everyone is staying safe. Comment for more!