Her brother doted on both of their children, though Rhaenyra in particular was his favourite. The little girl was no doubt the most spoiled child in all of Westeros, with dresses, jewels and toys heaped upon her by her father. In turn, Rhaenyra adored Viserys. Though no amount of jewels in the world would keep from her flying with her mother on Caraxes, her own smaller young dragon Syrax fighting to keep up.

Then came the fateful day.

"I want to ride her," Her seven-year-old daughter said, knowing better than to pout and whine with Daena, where such techniques would have worked on Viserys. "Please, Mother, she's more than big enough, and I'm more ready than I've ever been for anything, ever,"

Daena considered the creature. Syrax was certainly strong enough. Dragons grew incredibly fast in those first few years, and Syrax would be able to bear a child's weight with ease. No, it was Rhaenyra who was the limiting factor. Daena had claimed Caraxes at eleven, which was young to risk riding an already grown dragon. Syrax had been with her daughter since the cradle, and had never had any previous rider. Still, though... Daena was not accustomed to feelings such as nerves, but the idea of her daughter taking to the skies gave her a twinge of anxiety. 

That was what made up her mind. Daena would not wrap her children in silk and coddle them like a mother hen, like Queen Alysanne had done to Gael. Rhaenyra was a dragon. Daena had been teaching her to ride since birth.

"Yes, I believe you are," She said, and called for a saddle.

Her daughter was as good as buzzing with excitement as the dragonkeepers saddled her yellow dragon.

"Are you sure, Your Grace?" One asked Daena. "The Princess is very young,"

"Then she will be the youngest dragonrider our house has ever seen," Daena shrugged.

No doubt one of them would have gone to tell Viserys, however - who would keep his precious daughter firmly on the ground - so Daena hastened to check the chains on the saddle, and question Rhaenyra on the specifics of flying, the Valyrian commands. The girl already knew them, had known for years, but better safe than sorry. She would be there herself, of course, ready with Caraxes. That first leap, however, was Rhaenyra's to make alone.

"Sōvēs, Syrax,"

She needn't have feared. If Daena had realised she would kill for her daughter when Syrax hatched in her cradle, she realised she would die for Rhaenyra the first time she saw her take to the skies on the back of her own dragon.

The little girl let out a joyous whoop of glee, which Daena could hear from all the way on Caraxes. Her own smile was wider than she could ever remember it being since her mother died, and she was so proud she thought her heart might burst out of her chest. They flew over Blackwater Bay in the morning sunlight, swooping high to catch the upper winds. If Daena had her way, her daughter would be as free and unburdened as this moment for her whole life. 

Not for the first time, she considered taking her and Baelon from the Red Keep. Not forever, of course - Baelon was the heir, and must be known at court - but for some months, perhaps a year. They could tour the Free Cities, something Daena had wanted to do for years, though marriage, motherhood and expectations had prevented her. They could even visit the various keeps of Westeros, to placate Viserys and the council. She and her children could see the world. Baelon would no doubt become a better king from such experience. And they would be hers, at least for a time, not Viserys', not the court's, not the kingdom's. Hers.

The weather was glorious, that morning. Daena could even see the shadow of Dragonstone far on the horizon. Part of her wished to go all the way there and keep her daughter's achievement to herself, though that flight was hours long, and she did not want Rhaenyra or Syrax too tired.

They had scarcely landed before Daena was leaping from her saddle, sprinting to her daughter who had also dismounted, and wrapping her in the tightest hug, spinning her around in glee.

"Oh, my beautiful, perfect girl, you did it!" She laughed, kissing the top of her head. "The youngest dragonrider in the history of House Targaryen!"

"It was wonderful," Her daughter beamed, then saw something over Daena's shoulder. "Oh, and Father has come, let's tell him!"

Ah. Daena set Rhaenyra down, a hand on her shoulder, knowing this would not be pleasant. The girl was blind to her mother's hesistance, however, for she ran over to the King eagerly.

"Father, Father! I rode Syrax! By myself!"

"I saw you," Viserys smiled at her, clutching her tight to him. "You almost gave your Father a heart attack," His smile faded as he looked to Daena, in her riding leathers. "Really, Daena, she is extremely young. What if she had fallen, or if she had - had grown scared?"

"She's a Targaryen," She said, unapologetic. "She has been riding with me since the week she was born. She was never going to fall, and no daughter of mine would fear the skies,"

"Of course I wasn't scared, Father," The girl giggled. "Flying is the most wonderful thing in the world,"

Despite Viserys' fears and his irritation with Daena, he was proud of his daughter, and declared a feast to celebrate, making a toast in front of the entire court to the newest - and youngest - dragonrider of House Targaryen. Daena lounged in her chair at the head table, grinning widely, though did not fail to notice her son Baelon - who usually ate like he was a starved urchin - was picking at his food and did not look as pleased as everyone else.

"What is wrong, little dragon?" She got up from her chair.

"Nothing," The boy said, sullen, though the set of his mouth told her otherwise.

Daena paused for a moment. "Come on," She said, taking him by the hand. "They won't miss us for a few minutes,"

She led Baelon through the mostly-empty hallways of the castle, until they came to a private balcony overlooking the sea, close to her own chambers. Few ventured into this part of the keep, except the servants who had to by necessity. Her own chambers had once belonged to Maegor the Cruel, and cast a long shadow.

"My cradle egg didn't hatch either," She told her son, sitting down on a stone bench as he scrambled to sit next to her.

She knew she had guessed right when the boy stopped pretending to be stoic, face falling.

"But you have Caraxes - "

"I didn't have Caraxes until I was eleven," She said. "He was my Uncle Aemon's dragon first. I claimed him later, like Rhaenys claimed Meleys and your father claimed Balerion and your grandfather claimed Vhagar. Lots of cradle eggs do not hatch. Rhaenyra and Laenor were lucky. No doubt Laena will claim her own dragon soon enough,"

"But I'll be the King," Her son said. "I need a dragon, everyone says so,"

"And a dragon you shall have," Daena replied. "When you are older than five. There are many to choose from. Silverwing, Vermithor, Vhagar, Dreamfyre. More still on Dragonstone, all of them bigger and stronger than a hatchling,"

"The Cannibal?"

She was both comforted and amused by a hint of that impish smile. "Yes, though even I would prefer you stay away from that one. Fried princes do no one any good,"

Baelon laughed. "Fire cannot kill a dragon,"

"Perhaps not, but it can certainly kill foolish boys with more daring than sense," Daena got to her feet with a wry smile. "Look at that - I sound very old and wise. Come on, little dragon, back to the feast. I would like a drink, so I can tell myself I am not turning into my grandmother,"

Seren, her faithful handmaid, fell in step beside her as she left, clearly having overheard. "You'll hate me for saying so, Your Grace, but you can be so very sweet sometimes,"

Daena scoffed. "Come to see me deal with the criminals in the city, and you would say otherwise,"

"That was why I said 'sometimes', Your Grace,"

She laughed loudly. "You're lucky I like you,"

Seren smiled, bowing her head. "I was told by the steward to inform you of the preparations for the Vale's visit - "

"Consider me informed," It was Daena's role as Queen to oversee such preparations, though she was more than happy to delegate.

"Of course, Your Grace," Her handmaid looked amused. "Though you will have to host the ladies of the delegation, at least a few times. The King insists,"

"Jeyne Arryn, Lady of the Eyrie, is all of ten," She said. "She and Rhaenyra will love talking of pretty dresses and jewels," If she remembered correctly, the girl's father and brothers had been killed by mountain clansmen. No doubt the Otto Hightowers of the Vale had wet themselves at the opportunity to influence the child.

"The wives of her lords are not ten," Seren said, always matter-of-fact, never confrontational. "Lady Redfort, Lady Belmore, Lady Royce, Lady Waynwood, and the rest," A small smile. "Though Lady Royce rules in her own right and is reported to spend her days hunting in the mountains and fighting like a man, so perhaps you will get on,"

"I will happily host the ladies if I can do it in the training yard," Daena said with a smirk. "Don't fret, I'll tell Viserys I'll behave myself. It will be nice to see cousin Aemma, at least,"

After avoiding the match with Viserys, her cousin had married Lord Waynwood when she was seventeen years old. Daena had not met the man, though from her few letters, Aemma seemed happy. She had two boys, last she had heard, and was doing much better than she would have done if she were Viserys' queen from the age of eleven. A quiet life in the Vale suited Aemma. Daena was unsure if she herself suited life in King's Landing. She felt equally at home and out of place as Queen.

Her husband was tipsy when she returned, and welcomed her back to the feast with an uncharacteristically friendly kiss on the lips - rather than the cheek, as was custom for them in public - and an arm around the waist. 

"Where have you been, Daena?" He asked, swaying slightly. "A feast is always more fun with you here. For better or worse,"

She laughed. "How much have you had to drink, Brother?" It was always amusing, seeing Viserys in his cups, given how rarely it happened.

"It's a celebration," He said. "Come and dance,"

In a good mood given her daughter's triumph that day, Daena allowed herself to be tugged towards the dance floor. Viserys was a poor swordsman but a good dancer, with surprising grace. She was only an inch or two shorter than he was, and it was a constant battle of wills between the two of them as to who would lead the dance.

Eyes followed them wherever they went. It was not often the King and Queen shared a dance, and there were always those vying for Viserys' attention. Daena found herself over-exaggerating the movements in dramatic fashion, imitating the girls who tried to catch the King's eye, making her brother snort with laughter.

"You look beautiful tonight,"

The compliment caught her off guard. "Thank you?"

"Am I not allowed to compliment my wife?"

"You normally have nothing nice to say about how I look. The opposite, in fact,"

"You normally stomp around in flying leathers, carrying a sword and smelling of dragon, or blood,"

"I've had plenty of compliments on my flying leathers," She leered a little. 

To her surprise, Viserys blushed.

"Why do you think I mislike them? I see how other men gawp at you,"

"How much have you drunk?" Daena said, baffled. "Since when do you care? You kindly told me once I have the figure of a skinny boy wearing them - what is there to gawp at?"

"You were fifteen then," Her brother replied. "Surely you know - " He broke off.

She raised an eyebrow. "Know what?" Daena would have laughed at him, at this whole conversation not been so... strange.

"Never mind," Viserys shook his head. "Once the party from the Vale have come and gone, I would speak with you,"

"We're speaking now," She said as the dance concluded, and they stepped apart, returning towards the high table. 

Her brother could be stubborn when he wanted to be. "After,"

They were interrupted as Ser Harwin Strong approached them. 

"Forgive me, Your Grace," He said with a smile. "I would dance with the Queen, if you allow it,"

"Yes, yes, of course," Viserys seemed eager to be rid of her. 

Daena narrowed her eyes. "You're acting very strangely tonight," She took Harwin's outstretched arm, looking up at him. "You know, Ser, you may be one of the few men that makes me feel small. You seem to have grown since I faced you in the yard this morning,"

Viserys made an odd noise behind them as they stepped back onto the floor. 

"And you almost look a charming, gracious Queen," Her old friend said under his breath. 

Daena laughed loudly. "Watch your mouth,"

*

Lady Rhea Royce was not overly eager to be visiting King's Landing. She had joined Lady Jeyne at the Eyrie before setting off for Gulltown and the ship that would carry them south, and most of the other lords and ladies were excited to set off. Lady Aemma was one of the few who had spent much time at court, and even she had largely been raised in the Vale.

"You must tell us of the Queen, Aemma," Lady Redfort, an unapologetic gossip, said with a grin. "Is it true she slaughters men herself with Dark Sister and bathes in the blood of young maidens to keep her beauty?"

Aemma laughed. "I would believe the former of Daena, though where on earth did you hear the latter?"

"Here and there," The woman waved a hand. "She sounds both fearsome and fascinating,"

"She sounds like Rhea," Lady Belmore snorted. "Dressing up in men's clothes, taking on men's responsibilities and larking about with a sword - do you think she has short hair too?"

Rhea swallowed the familiar twinge of annoyance at comments like that, and laughed. "If only I had a dragon and a Valyrian steel sword, Miranda," 

At Runestone, the people were used to her, had seen her grow and learn at her father's side. She forgot, sometimes, that she was an oddity outside of her own lands. Rhea had packed several rarely-used gowns to wear at court, not because she was ashamed but because she did not want to waste the effort explaining herself. 

Lady Aemma, bless her, stepped in. "The amount of women I have heard said to have bathed in blood is truly impressive. I suppose one has to be true, by virtue of sheer numbers alone, though I promise you Daena is not nearly so vain as that,"

"I suppose her mother, Princess Alyssa, fought with a sword," Lady Redfort considered. "And Queen Visenya. It's not so unusual, in their house. Though who's going to tell her not to, with the Blood Wyrm at her back?"

"Is it true Her Grace has a terrible temper?" Little Lady Jeyne asked, nervous. 

"I cannot deny that," Aemma laughed. "Though she will not turn it on you, my lady," She raised an eyebrow at Lady Redfort. "Though if she hears those rumours of yours concerning her and half the City Watch, Alys, I can make no such promises,"

Personally, Rhea believed that the more outlandish rumours about the Queen came from insecure little men, none of whom wanted to admit that the security of the royal house was propped up by the only member with a grown dragon, who happened to be a woman. That tended to be the way of things. 

As intriguing as Daena Targaryen may be, however, Rhea felt no eagerness as their ship pulled into the docks at King's Landing. The ride through the city was pleasant enough, she supposed -their party had been directed through the cleanest, widest streets - but the whole place stank of shit, far from the clean air of the Vale. 

They were welcomed at the gates of the Red Keep and shown to the throne room, where the King would receive them. It was a cavernous room, made even more imposing by the huge dragon skulls displayed on the walls. The Iron Throne was a hulking, ugly mass of swords melted together by dragonfire, towering above them all. The man sat on top of it, however, was bright, warm and friendly-faced.

"Welcome!" King Viserys Targaryen got to his feet. "We are glad to see you in King's Landing, after such an arduous journey..."

He was all smiles, a gracious host, though already Rhea could see how some would perceive him to be too generous, too accommodating, for a king. That was no problem, however, for his wife was the exact opposite. At the foot of the throne, on a smaller chair of her own, sat the Queen. Despite the fact that Daena Targaryen lounged in her seat, disinterested, even bored, she somehow managed to look more imposing than her husband, who sat on the legacy of Aegon the Conqueror. 

The woman wore her house colours, of course, and suited them well. She was not the delicate, elfin beauty most women in her house embodied; even through the magnificent gown, Rhea noticed she had the biceps of one used to swinging a sword, and her features were striking and distinct rather than dainty. Nonetheless, her piercing lilac stare and curtain of silver hair left no doubt as to what she was; a Targaryen queen.

The young Prince and Princess stood at their mother's side; the girl was a true beauty, whilst the boy favoured his mother strongly. Princess Rhaenyra was remarkably confident, greeting the Arryn's without hesitation with excellent manners, if a little imperiously. Prince Baelon did not have his sister's outgoing nature, though greeted them without faltering, standing up as straight and tall as he could. Their mother smiled at them both after; even that did not make her seem any more soft, for her smile cut like a knife, a warning to the newcomers. Any harm or insult to her children, and Dark Sister would cleave them in two.

Rhea was enchanted.

There was a feast to welcome them that evening, and she was glad to see Lady Jeyne giggling with Princess Rhaenyra. Rhea, for her part, felt out of sorts in the gown she had donned for their time in court. At home, Runestone, she wore mens clothes and armour, spending her days riding, hunting, hawking, fighting, always outdoors whenever she could and seeing to lord's duties when she could not. King's Landing was suffocating, with all these people, that terrible smell from the city, and no open space until the other side of the gates. But Jeyne wanted her here, and she would not leave the ten-year-old girl alone in a strange place. She trusted Rhea like she had not trusted anyone since Rhea's father, her former lord regent, had died.

"Hello, my lady," 

Rhea startled as a small woman with silver Valyrian hair and disarmingly purple eyes appeared at her side. A Targaryen, for sure, but which one? She was not well versed in court affairs; did Daena and Viserys have a sister? 

As she fought for a name and a polite greeting, the woman put her out of her misery.

"I am Princess Gael," She said, with a smile. "The Queen's aunt. Most people don't remember me. I prefer it when everyone looks at Daena,"

Gael, that was it. The last daughter of Jaehaerys and Alysanne, the one who never married. There were whispers that she was lackwitted, though the woman before her did not seem slow, even if she didn't blink often and held an awful lot of eye contact.

"Forgive me, Princess," Rhea smiled ruefully at her own mistake. "Does that not make you the King's aunt too?" Valyrian customs never ceased to be strange to her. 

"Oh, yes," Gael said, cheerily unconcerned. "But Daena is my favourite,"

Rhea laughed at her directness. "Really? Why is that?"

"She talks to me like she talks to everyone else," The woman said. "She would like you, I think. I found out all about the Vale, before everyone arrived. You fight with a sword and dress as a man sometimes, just like she does,"

Before Rhea could reply to that, Princess Rhaenyra appeared at Gael's side.

"Auntie, you have to come and dance," She said, beaming. "They're playing your favourite song,"

"Yes, I will," Gael shooed her off, but the girl was unabashed. "I'm making a friend for Daena," She turned to Rhea conspiratorially. "She does need more friends, I'm always saying. If only she would be nicer to people,"

"Mother has friends," The Princess shrugged. "Lady Mysaria is with her now,"

Rhea's gaze followed her pointed finger to where the Queen was laughing loudly at something a stunningly beautiful woman with milk-white skin and hair was saying. The woman was no Targaryen, not dressed in that plain gown as she was, but must have come from the Free Cities to have that colouring. Their heads were bent close together, the Queen's hand on her knee, and the King was watching, a frown on his face for the first time that evening.

I wonder...

"Does Her Grace spar in the training yard?" She asked Gael, whose sleeve was being tugged by the insistent little Princess.

"Most mornings," The woman beamed, allowing herself to be dragged into the dancing crowd.

Rhea was pulled back into the circle of Vale nobles, though her eyes often drifted to the Queen, who had also been swept into the dancing. The woman danced with both of her children, with Gael, with Lady Aemma, with the King and with several knights who wore the gold cloak of the City Watch. 

"Some say Her Grace has an illicit arrangement with that one," Lady Redfort grinned as she murmured in Rhea's ear, nodding at her current partner. "They've been friends since they were children, and he enacts her will in the Watch. Ser Harwin Strong, of Harrenhal," A pause. "I wouldn't blame her if she did, look at the size of his arms!"

Rhea did not see the appeal, herself, though men had never held much interest for her. Besides, her short hair and rugged demeanour were enough to put most men off, even before they realised how mannish her interests were. "Hm. She looks at him like she looks at her brother,"

"She is a Targaryen," Lady Redfort shrugged. "Her brother is her husband,"

*

Court had become suddenly crowded. The Red Keep was hosting what seemed to be half the population of the Vale, and even here in the practice yard, knights of various Vale houses were here to spar, taking up space and eyeing her like she wasn't supposed to be there. Daena ignored them all, sparring with both Harwin and Willem at once; Harwin could probably beat her himself, in half of their matches, but he was holding back to allow her to practice against two.

Even as Daena's leg lashed out in a vicious kick, making the huge man stagger, Willem's blow caught her sword hand; she almost dropped it, but managed to twist away, whirling back for a vicious counterattack.

Several of the Vale knights had exclaimed in alarm at the direct blow to the Queen. She ignored the irritating interruption, until one voice in particular stood out.

"Oh, stop gasping like a bunch of old women," A hearty female voice said. "You see me fight every day,"

Apparently, Daena had missed the fact that one in the Vale group was a woman.

"Stop," 

Harwin and Willem stepped back at once at her command, as she made her way over to the newcomers. True enough, a lady stood amongst them; Daena vaguely recognised her from yesterday from her short hair, though now she wore light armour instead of a gown, and looked far more at home. 

"What is your name, my lady?"

"Rhea Royce of Runestone, Your Grace," The woman did not seem scared of her in the slightest. She was pretty, despite the short hair and broad frame... or perhaps because of it.

Daena grinned. "Care for a spar? I don't believe I have ever fought another woman before,"

"I would be delighted, Your Grace," 

Impervious to the muttering of the men around her, Lady Rhea stepped forward. Daena met her drawn sword with her own in a fierce clash. Rhea did not hesitate or pull her blows, as most men did when they first faced the Queen. She's stronger than I am, Daena realised, with relish rather than apprehension. All her opponents were physically stronger than her, which mattered little; she beat them with speed and agility. Though Rhea was agile and fast too. In fact, they were very evenly matched.

The match lasted long enough that both of them began to tire. Though as time wore in, it became clear that Rhea's stamina, to Daena's disgust, was better than her own. If she kept trying for much longer, the other woman would win. 

Daena acted on impulse, catching Rhea off guard by unbalancing her with a low-aimed blow. She rushed her, knocking the lady to the floor and falling with her, sword pressed to her throat, thighs straddling either side of her body. They stared at each other a moment, breathing heavily from exertion - how many times had she been in this position with Mysaria? - then Daena grinned, rolling off of her and offering a hand.

"You are excellent, my lady," She said, pulling Rhea to her feet. 

The whole yard was watching them, either with wide eyes of surprise, frowns of disapproval or (disgustingly) badly hidden lust. 

The woman laughed, unbothered by the loss. "I'd have had you, Your Grace, if we kept on as we were. Though I have to admire the dirty trick," 

She had a no-nonsense, direct way of speaking that Daena could not help but appreciate.

Out of surprise more than anything, she laughed too. "Few have the nerve to call me a cheat to my face. Come, walk with me," 

This lady from the Vale intrigued her. Before, she had believed that they were all rural sheep-fuckers, or uptight followers of the Seven, in that backwater (except Aemma, of course). Rhea, at least, was proving her wrong. 

"Who taught you to fight?" She asked, once they were away from the yard. "I'd love to hear where you learned to handle a sword so well," 

The other woman grinned. "I am perhaps the worst person to ask about handling a sword, Your Grace,"

It took a moment for Daena to realise the joke, though when she did she burst out laughing.

"You catch my meaning, then?" Rhea said, amused. "I did wonder about you,"

"Lady Rhea, you are a breath of fresh air in this place," She said. "How did you - ?" She broke off. "There aren't even many such rumours in court about me, for once - few take something so outlandish seriously - never mind the Vale,"

"I hadn't heard any rumours," Rhea said. "Not about that, at least. Though apparently you do like to bathe in the blood of maidens,"

"I like that one," Daena considered. "It's more imaginative than the others, at least. There are only so many tales to be told of my supposed affairs with every man in the City Watch before even the court grows tired of them," 

"Well, they all seem so dreadfully dull," Rhea said. "Can you blame them, using you for any small excitement?"

Daena's lips curled into a smile. "I like you," She said; even with the obvious flattery, Rhea seemed refreshingly honest. "Come into King's Landing with me, this evening. I have business with the Watch, but after I'll show you the best and the worst places in King's Landing to drink,"

* 

For the month that the nobles of the Vale stayed in King's Landing, Rhea Royce became an undoubted favourite of the Queen. They sparred together, hunted together - on horseback, as the lady refused to get on Caraxes - and even ventured into the city together some evenings. Daena enjoyed her company, for Rhea was so refreshingly direct and uncomplicated compared to most at court, and as a highborn woman was deemed a suitable companion for the Queen. Unlike Mysaria, or her friends in the Watch, no one could say a word against it.

Of course, they did not know what went on behind closed doors, but that was besides the point.

"It pleases me to see you get on so well with the ladies from the Vale, Daena," Viserys seemed relieved she had not caused any offence. "Lady Rhea is an odd woman, that's for sure, though she is well-liked by her fellow Valefolk, and your interests are remarkably similar. I am glad you have found a friend in her,"

Even after Mysaria, he had no idea. Gods, her brother could be blind. 

The Lyseni was not Daena's constant companion at court, and often ventured back into the city to conduct her own private business, and collect information that would be useful for the Watch. Mysaria was not the jealous type, and merely laughed at the mention of Daena's new friend. The two were incredibly different. Where Mysaria was undoubtedly feminine, lithe with soft curves and long flowing white hair, Rhea was both taller and stronger than Daena herself, with tanned skin from hours outside and the dark brown hair typical of those with the blood of the First Men.

"Do you feel no desire for a man at all?" She asked Rhea one evening, over dinner.

The lady shook her head. "None at all. Do you? I suppose those two children had to come from somewhere,"

"They came from duty, not desire, and my grandfather's interfering," Daena snorted, thinking for a moment. "I do wonder, sometimes. I like the idea of men, I suppose. Just not the reality. Not least because I would be branded an adulterous whore for letting another man touch me. I won't make Saera's mistakes," 

Men like Otto Hightower already whispered such filth about her; no need to add fuel to the fire.

It was not only Rhea who the Vale's visit brought to King's Landing, however, but also cousin Aemma. Whilst still slight and delicate in build, there was a definite aura of health and happiness about the young woman that had not been there during the frail years of her childhood.

"You look surprisingly well," Daena informed her, as they walked together through the gardens of the Red Keep. 

Aemma laughed. "That was backhanded praise, if ever I heard it. Did you expect me to wither away since getting married? My husband is a kind man, and the air of the Vale is good for me,"

"All the more reason to be glad you weren't sentenced to a life in King's Landing," She said. "For then it would have been me sent to the Vale, to waste away in some lord's keep surrounded by mud and sheep, and that would not have gone well for anyone,"

"Thank the Gods our grandfather saw wisdom," The lady said dryly. "Or else we never would have seen you again. You'd be halfway across Essos with Caraxes by now,"

She could not deny that. "Sometimes the idea still tempts me,"

Aemma knew she was not joking. "What of your children?"

"They'd come too, of course. It would do them good, to get away from the vipers in this city. Otto Hightower and his ilk," 

"I don't envy you," Her cousin made a face. "That man makes my skin crawl. His daughter is sweet, however, downtrodden though she might be," 

Daena had barely paid attention to Hightower's daughter, vaguely conjuring an image of a skinny, brown-haired young girl, quiet and pious. What was her name again? Helicent? 

"Why don't you visit Ironoaks, some time?" Aemma suggested at her silence. "You, Baelon and Rhaenyra. It would get you out of King's Landing for a time. Without such drastic measures," She smiled rather slyly. "Perhaps you could even go to Runestone to see Lady Rhea?"

Daena did laugh at that. "I thought you knew not to listen to rumours, Aemma,"

"It's not rumours, but mine own eyes," Her cousin said, amused. "Do consider it though, Daena. The fresh mountain air might be good for you,"

"I'll consider it,"

*

Viserys wanted another child. It had been over five years since Baelon's birth, after all, and their house would be made stronger by another heir. He had planned to ask Daena at the feast to celebrate Rhaenyra's claiming of Syrax, though had gotten too into his cups and bottled the opportunity. Now, however, he was determined. He strode to her chambers, bracing himself to be laughed at, or for the unthinkable; that she would agree.

"Queen Daena is, ah, indisposed, Your Grace," The Kingsguard at the door said. For some reason, the man looked a little strained.

"Is she well?" Viserys said, concerned. 

"Quite well," The man winced. "She is... having dinner with Lady Rhea Royce, of the Vale,"

"Yes, Lady Rhea is a charming woman, I'm glad they have found friendship together," It was a relief, that his wife was not with that awful Mysaria. "Though I need only a few minutes of her time," He was the King, after all. He should already be through that door.

"Your Grace, I - " The knight broke off. Gods, was he flushing? "The Queen - I - I do not think you wish to disturb her,"

"Nonsense," Viserys waved him off, opening the door and stepping inside. 

The sight that met his eyes was one that would be burned into his memory for a long time to come.

His sister, on the bed, naked as the day she was born, entwined in a passionate embrace with - was that a man? His heart almost stopped, but no, it was certainly a lady, he realised with a flush of embarrassment - Lady Rhea did have short hair and muscled arms, but was quite clearly a woman. Daena's head was thrown back in unmistakable, genuine pleasure, her chest heaving a sight that made the breath stop in Viserys' throat, for he had never seen a lady look quite like that before, let alone his wife.

"Daena - "

The two women were so caught up they had not noticed him right away, and though both jumped at the sound of his voice, they did not move apart as fast as he would have wanted. It was a... complex mix of emotions running through Viserys, in that moment. Anger, for sure, and embarrassment, along with something else he did not care to examine. 

Lady Rhea had the grace to cover herself, pulling a long shirt over her head, though did not seem especially uncomfortable to be found in such a position. 

"I should go," She said, redressing herself, with a regretful smile at his wife.

Daena had the nerve to glower at him for the interruption, turning to her... friend. "I'll see you later," The brazen woman pulled Rhea in for a lingering kiss that would have made a septa faint. 

"Your Grace," The Royce woman nodded at him, and left looking frustratingly calm and put-together, leaving the two of them alone.

"Viserys," Daena had not even reached for her clothes, and he valiantly fought to keep his eyes on her face. "You look like you've seen a ghost," 

Her tone was dry, but her eyes still held that heavy-lidded, satisfied look and it was doing all sorts of things to him. Viserys had hoped the evening would end seeing her undressed - however unlikely it had seemed - though not like this.

"I did not mean - " He broke off; why should he apologise? "You should not - "

Daena's raised eyebrow was not at all encouraging.

"Can you not put some clothes on?" He snapped at last, to cover his want for her. 

His sister grinned lazily. "Why would I, when it's making you so hot and bothered? Have you only just realised, Viserys, that I am a woman who people may in fact want to sleep with?"

"You fool," He said, on impulse. "I've wanted you for years,"

That, finally, seemed to unsettle her. "Don't make me laugh," She said, a bite to her tone, getting to her feet to face him. "You have shared your bed with whores for years, and couldn't even look me in the eye when our children were conceived,"

"You were seven-and-ten when Baelon was conceived. My little sister, still half a girl, only in my bed at all because of Grandfather's meddling," 

"And am I no longer your sister?" Daena sneered. 

"You are no longer a girl," 

Silence.

His sister stepped closer. She was not much shorter than he was, a couple of inches at most. A surprisingly gentle hand moved to cup his face, and she tilted her head curiously. 

"Our marriage bed was at best uncomfortable, at worst painful," Daena said, with frank honesty that made his face flush red. "I know you men like to believe that only whores enjoy fucking, that your lady wives should bear the duty with more dignity, but that is horseshit. Viserys, you have no idea how to please a woman,"

Her words would have struck the pride of any man. Viserys bristled with indignation, but he remembered the look on his wife's face in the arms of Rhea Royce. A wave of stubborn determination overtook him, and with a recklessness that usually only belonged to Daena, he replied, 

"Then teach me,"

Her eyes widened in surprise, though the expression was fast overtaken by a wicked smirk. 

"Was that an order, Your Grace?"

To that, he had no reply, but there was no need. Daena closed the gap between them in the first true kiss they had ever shared, the first time she had ever initiated such a thing, her touch as fierce and consuming as she was in every part of her life. Viserys may have been a king, but he surrendered in her hands, and gave his sister what she had always wanted; power.

*

Rhea Royce left with the party from the Vale, over a month since they had arrived. Daena would miss her company, both in and out of her bed, though the lady could not be persuaded to stay away from her miserable lands in the Vale any longer. She had Mysaria, however, and, somehow, she had Viserys. 

*

A much longer chapter here, with several key developments I didn't want to split up. I thought it would be hilarious to make Daena get on well with the wife Daemon loathed; you can see why he would hate this version of Rhea, who is so independent and unbothered by men in general, and would have been fiercely unimpressed by him. The two of them are actually rather similar, which is why Rhea finds a kinship with Daena as they have faced similar challenges in a way.  

I will say, this is not the be-all-and-end-all of Daena and Viserys' relationship. By no means are their troubles over.