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The Rogue Prince
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IN FOUR YEARS, THE LIFE OF AELINA WATERS CHANGED DRASTICALLY. She had grown close to Princess Rhaenyra, particularly after the marriage between King Viserys and Lady Alicent Hightower—a union that created a subtle rift between the Princess and the Queen. Throughout those years, Aelina remained by Rhaenyra's side. Though she initially found life in King's Landing difficult, she gradually came to tolerate, and even enjoy, her time there when tensions between the Princess and her family were not running high. The years passed more quickly than expected, and the celebrations for Prince Aegon's second name day marked a turning point, especially when discussions of Rhaenyra's future resulted in a Royal Progress—or, as Aelina understood it, a way for the King to parade his daughter before the realm's potential suitors.

He had hoped that in making Aelina accompany the Princess, her close relationship with Rhaenyra would help offer insight in finding a suitable husband.

King Viserys was wrong.

Aelina stood beside Princess Rhaenyra, who sat before a long line of lords and knights, all vying for her hand. She could hardly remember where they were in the Seven Kingdoms anymore, having travelled extensively from place to place.

Aelina suppressed a sigh as a lord, who looked older than the King himself, continued to drone on in front of Rhaenyra. Behind him, other men stood patiently, awaiting their turn to present their case for her hand.

"...the walls of Blackhaven are unscalable vassalstone, and the castle is surrounded by a deep, dry moat. It is fortified against any future Dornish incursions." He chuckled slightly, and Aelina frowned, unable to understand why a dry moat was amusing.

As the Lord she didn't bother to remember the name of rambled on, Aelina stole a glance at Rhaenyra. The Princess was fiddling with the Valyrian steel necklace that Aelina remembered her saying had been a gift from her uncle, Prince Daemon, before her mother's passing.

Rhaenyra looked just as bored as Aelina, if not more so, struggling to maintain the appearance of interest. The task grew more difficult when the man cleared his throat, approached a nearby table, and poured himself a large glass of wine. Aelina sighed audibly, and Rhaenyra caught her eye as the man downed the wine in one go before returning to his place in the centre of the room.

"The view across the Marches is inspiring," he continued, "as Queen Alysanne herself remarked when she honoured my father and me—"

Rhaenyra suddenly interrupted. "Tell me, Lord Dondarrion, did you think my great-grandmother was as beautiful as they say?"

Aelina's lips twitched into a small smile as Lord Dondarrion, in front of them blinked in confusion, his eyes squinting as though he could hardly see her. Aelina thought it quite possible, given how ancient he appeared. "That was half a century ago, Princess," he replied, bewildered.

"Yes, it was," Rhaenyra agreed, nodding.

The crowd of turned down Lords and Knight all chuckled, and even Aelina laughed. Boremund Baratheon, sat beside Aelina, glanced at Rhaenyra, disapproving and suddenly Aelina remembered where they were as the man spoke up. "That was unseemly, Princess."

Rhaenyra responded quietly. "That man is older than my father." She glanced at Aelina, smiling. "And Aelina found it amusing." Her eyes flickered back to the lord still standing before her and her smile fell slightly. "What is truly unseemly is that he considers himself a contender for my hand."

Boremund said no more but cast a sharp look at Aelina before loudly announcing: "Next!"

As the old lord stepped aside, Aelina's gaze shifted to Rhaenyra, noticing that a boy, barely of age, was stepping forward. He was scrawny, with brown hair, and a sword that seemed far too large for his hip.

Rhaenyra looked almost shocked at the sight of him as he bowed low before her. "And now, a child," she muttered.

"The Blackwoods are an ancient house with a formidable army," Boremund informed her. "In the Riverlands, they once ruled as kings. The blood of the First Men still flows in their veins."

Neither Aelina nor Rhaenyra looked particularly convinced by Boremund's words, but Aelina wouldn't dare interrupt, and Rhaenyra remained silent. "Go on," Boremund prompted the boy.

"My Princess, ours is a bond that has long endured, since Lucus Blackwood and the grandsire of my grandsire aided the dragon in his conquest—"

"Aye," Jerrel Bracken interrupted from the side, having already been dismissed by the Princess earlier, "the Blackwoods truly turned the tide on that one." The crowd laughed, but the boy pressed on.

"Coursed with the blood of the First Men, our history in this land, which your house has made its home, is long. If chosen as your match, Princess, your days will be easy, and your nights safe under my protection."

"Protection?" Jerrel cut in with a laugh. "The Princess has a dragon, you dumb cunt."

The crowd erupted into laughter again. Aelina merely looked at Rhaenyra, who laughed along with the others, while Boremund shot Jerrel a warning glance. The boy, however, was far less amused.

"I could learn to like that one," Rhaenyra remarked to Aelina, who gave her a disapproving look.

"Perhaps you should invite him to rejoin the line," Aelina joked.

Rhaenyra smiled before turning back to Boremund. "Let us have the next one, so we may go to supper."

Boremund nodded, and the boy began to step away, only to halt when Jerrel muttered something under his breath: "Craven."

Aelina sighed, exasperated, as the boy turned sharply, unsheathing his sword while Jerrel brought out his dagger. "Why does it always have to end with men drawing swords?" she groaned.

Rhaenyra nodded, standing up as the two began to encircle each other. "We're leaving."

Aelina followed her, with Ser Criston Cole on Rhaenyra's other side, as Boremund stood up. "Sheathe that steel, you twats!" he demanded.

"Send word to the harbour and have Captain Oswin prepare the ship," Rhaenyra instructed, paying the two no mind as they narrowed their eyes at each other.

"Princess, we're due in Bitterbridge in three days," Criston reminded her.

"I'm sure Aelina would happily row us both back to King's Landing if it meant an end to this ridiculous pageant," she retorted. Rhaenyra raised an eyebrow at Aelina, who nodded in quiet agreement. Both turned at the sound of a cry of pain followed by a heavy thud. Aelina's eyes widened as she saw Jerrel Bracken coughing and spluttering, blood pouring from his mouth.

Criston quickly stepped in front of Rhaenyra, shielding her, while Aelina caught a glimpse of Jerrels father rushing to cradle his son who continued to cough up blood.

"Don't look, Princess," Criston commanded.

Aelina couldn't take her eyes off it though and Criston wasn't blocking her. It was only when Rhaenyra grabbed her hand that Aelina was pulled out of her spell.

Gods, how she hated this damned tour.

The journey back to the ship was long and quiet. Aelina couldn't shake the image of the boy dying on the ground, even as they sailed away. It clung to her mind for days.

She stood at the edge of the ship, gazing out over the waves. The familiar crash of the sea was a welcome sound. She had grown used to it again during the tour and missed it deeply when she was landlocked. The waves reminded her of Driftmark and her father—how they would sit upon the cliffs, watching the sunset with the endless sea below them. His presence had always been a shield, protecting her from the world's cruel whispers.

That was before. Before his death four years ago. Now, without his presence, those whispers had only grown louder. Silver stain, they called her. Tideborn bastard. She heard the taunts more often after he died, thickening her skin, turning her blood turbulent, like the sea in a storm. Yet here, with the waves and wind, she could pretend they didn't exist. For a moment, she felt at home.

Her feet didn't ache, even though she had stood watching the sea for hours. This was where she belonged, no matter how many claimed she didn't. Her father always reminded her she was a Velaryon in spirit, if not in name. A shame he couldn't repeat that promise anymore.

Aelina's gaze lifted as Kings Landing grew nearer, the sight of the Red Keep pulling her from her reverie. Despite the whispers, despite the stares, she had come to think of this place as home too. Rhaenyra's friendship had been her shield, much like her father once was. Whenever they were seen together, the whispers seemed to stop, as if even gossipers dared not insult someone under the protection of the Princess.

She hadn't noticed Rhaenyra joining her at the ship's edge until Criston's voice interrupted them. "We should make landfall inside the hour, Princess."

Rhaenyra frowned slightly. "How do you think he will take it?" she asked, not meeting Aelina's eyes, her focus on Criston.

"Do you speak of how you rejected every suitor his Grace put before you, or how you abruptly ended the tour with two months remaining?"

Aelina chuckled softly, catching Rhaenyra's eye. "I'm sure if you explain how we had to witness boys killing each other in your presence, the King may understand."

Rhaenyra sighed, unconvinced. The sound of a dragon's roar suddenly echoed overhead, causing both girls to look up. Aelina stepped back from the edge of the ship as a red dragon with a long neck swept low, its wings kicking up wind and rocking the boat. Rhaenyra stumbled, hitting her head against the side of the ship.

"Nyra!" Aelina rushed to her friend's side.

Princess!" Criston shouted in alarm, quickly moving between them. Aelina narrowed her eyes slightly, stumbling back as Criston helped Rhaenyra to her feet, cradling her head gently. "Are you hurt?" he asked, his voice filled with concern.

Rhaenyra winced but shook her head. "I'm fine."

Aelina's frown deepened as her gaze followed the dragon, now flying toward Kings Landing. "Aelina, it's time you meet my Uncle," Rhaenyra muttered.

Aelina's eyes widened. She had heard the stories—Prince Daemon, the Rogue Prince. She had never met him. First he was Exiled and then in the Stepstones alongside her great-uncle. Now, he was back, and she couldn't help but wonder if the tales of chaos and charm were true.

When they finally disembarked, Aelina followed Rhaenyra through Kings Landing and into the Red Keep. They made their way through the bustling corridors toward the throne room.

As soon as they entered, King Viserys' gaze found them. Aelina swallowed hard, feeling exposed under his eyes, but his attention soon returned to his daughter.

"He knows we're here," she whispered, nerves tight in her chest.

Rhaenyra barely glanced at her. "That doesn't matter."

Aelina's eyes flicked around the room, settling on the Iron Throne. No matter how many times she saw it, its intimidating grandeur never failed to amaze her. Thousands of swords, twisted and sharp, making the seat of power seem more like a threat than a reward.

She tore her gaze from the throne, focusing instead on where she and Rhaenyra stood toward the edge of the room. The crowd had split into two halves, leaving a clear path between them leading to King Viserys, who stood before his throne. The whispers around them abruptly ceased as loud footsteps echoed from the entrance.

The door opened, and Aelina's breath caught in her throat. Daemon.

His hair, shorter than expected, gleamed in the light, almost highlighting the striking lines of his face. Dark Sister, the legendary blade Aelina remembered Rhaenyra speaking of, rested easily at his side, while a crown made of bone sat atop his head. In his other hand, an old hammer swung lightly as he moved. He strode through the room with the ease and confidence of a king, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips. Aelina's gaze followed him, captivated by the sheer sharpness of his presence. He wasn't just chaotic as the rumors claimed—he was magnetic, pulling everyone's attention with every step.

She barely noticed when Rhaenyra pulled her closer toward the throne, following Daemon as he walked towards the King. They came to a halt as Ser Harrold unsheathed his sword, holding it towards Daemon, but the Prince only leaned into the blade, pressing the point against his armour with a small smile.

Aelina's eyes widened at the sight, her pulse quickening.

Daemon held up the hammer toward Viserys and paused while the King looked at him in slight wonder. "Add it to the chair," he suddenly declared, letting the weapon drop to the ground with a clatter.

Viserys' gaze remained fixed on his brother, the tension in the room strong. As Ser Harrold retrieved the hammer, Aelina glanced at Rhaenyra, who almost seemed to be smirking at her uncle.

"You wear a crown," Viserys finally spoke, his voice stern. "Do you also call yourself 'King'?"

"Once we smashed the Triarchy, they named me 'King of the Narrow Sea'," Daemon replied, his tone unbothered by the murmurs now filling the room. He paused before adding, "But I know that there is only one true King, Your Grace." With that, he knelt before the king and removed the bone crown from his head, his silver hair falling out of place. "My crown and the Stepstones are yours."

Aelina continued watching in awe as Daemon knelt, holding the crown out for his brother.

Viserys moved toward him, his steps deliberate as the sound of his sword tapped against the stone with each stride. Without a word, he took the bone crown from Daemon's hands, studying it briefly before he handed it to a knight behind him and his gaze shifted back to his brother. Finally, his voice echoed through the hall. "Rise."

Daemon stood immediately, his expression unreadable as his brother placed a hand on his shoulder. Then Viserys pulled him into an embrace. The tension broke as applause filled the room, though Aelina's attention remained fixed on Daemon, her mind swirling with thoughts of the stories she had heard of him, and the man standing in the same room as her.

"The realm owes you a great debt, brother," Viserys said, his voice filled with the warmth of reconciliation.

It didn't take long for the throne room to thin out. Rhaenyra guided Aelina through the crowd, slipping past the lingering nobles as they made their way to Rhaenyra's chambers.

"What do you think of my uncle, Lina?" Rhaenyra asked with a sly smirk, her eyes glinting with curiosity.

Aelina let out a small chuckle, shaking her head. "He's... something," she said, voice unsure, eyes still wide from what she had witnessed.

"Something?" Rhaenyra raised an eyebrow, clearly amused as they entered her chambers. "Care to elaborate?"

Aelina paused, leaning against the table. "I don't know, Rhaenyra. He seems..." she trailed off, fingers idly brushing the table's edge. "Dangerous. Like there's a lot going on behind his eyes. He barely said anything, but it was enough."

Rhaenyra grinned wider. "That's Daemon, alright." She settled into her chair, clearly enjoying this. "He likes to make an impression."

"He certainly did," Aelina admitted, still trying to process the Rogue Prince she'd heard so much about. "But he didn't seem as reckless as the rumors make him out to be. There was something more... controlled."

Rhaenyra hummed thoughtfully. "He's been at war for years, maybe it's tempered him... a little." She leaned forward slightly, teasing, "You've barely seen him, and you're already intrigued."

Aelina felt her cheeks warm slightly, waving it off. "Curious, maybe. But I don't even know him."

Rhaenyra smirked. "You will, soon enough. Just be careful, Lina. Daemon's charm isn't always what it seems."

Aelina nodded lightly. "I'll keep that in mind."

Later after she had went to her chambers to change Aelina found herself looking around the party in the Godwood. She stood uncomfortably, standing with her back to the wall. She had attended many small parties over the years, but it never got easier. No matter how much she tried, she'd never fit in—people always stared and whispered. Some had even glared. But it was either this or sulk in her chambers, and the last time she had done that, Rhaenyra had dragged her out.

Aelina glanced down, smoothing the silvery-blue fabric of her gown. The delicate silk shimmered in the candlelight, flowing in soft layers around her. Silver embroidery traced the bodice and sleeves, mimicking gentle waves, a nod to her Velaryon heritage. Her dark silver hair had been loosely braided, pinned with small pearls, and strands framed her face. She reached for the sea serpent pendant hanging at her neck—a gift from her father, its weight a constant comfort. She wasn't sure if it was the pendant or her form-hugging gown making people stare, but she couldn't help feeling out of place.

Her fingers brushed the cool metal of the pendant, reminding her of her father, and she took a deep breath before moving toward Rhaenyra.

Rhaenyra noticed her approach, wiping a crumb from her mouth. "Hiding again?" she teased, an eyebrow raised, a playful smile tugging at her lips.

Aelina sighed, her eyes flicking around. "It's not hiding; it's avoiding."

"They're fools," Rhaenyra whispered. "You're here as my friend. They can whisper all they like, Lina, but you belong here." Aelina gave a weak smile in return but remained unconvinced. Rhaenyra squeezed her arm. "Come on, my Father and Uncle are waiting to see us."

"You mean, you," Aelina corrected.

Rhaenyra shook her head. "I'm sure Daemon wants to meet my closest friend."

Aelina rolled her eyes as they made their way toward King Viserys, Queen Alicent, and Prince Daemon.

Viserys chuckled, wiggling a finger at Daemon. "I will not revisit this debate. You were always mother's favourite."

Daemon shook his head. "No great mystery, you were," Viserys continued, glancing at Alicent. "Our mother had no regard for custom or tradition, and sadly, I was no great warrior."

"Congratulations on your victory," Rhaenyra said as she and Aelina joined them. Aelina glanced at Daemon, noticing the faintest trace of a smirk before his expression shifted upon seeing Viserys' face.

"Thank you, Princess." Daemon nodded at Rhaenyra, then turned his gaze to Aelina.

"Uncle, meet my friend, and Lord Corlys' great-niece, Aelina Waters."

Daemon's gaze lingered on Aelina, curiosity flickering in his eyes. "Aelina Waters," he repeated, his tone low.

Aelina offered a polite nod, her heart quickening under his intense stare.

"Perhaps Prince Daemon would care for a tour of the gallery?" Alicent suggested, sensing the awkwardness. "He hasn't seen the new tapestries gifted to you by Norvos and Qohor."

Viserys chuckled. "Would you like to see the tapestries?" Daemon smirked, his eyes gleaming with amusement. "He has no interest in such things," Viserys laughed along with his brother.

"I'd like to see them," Rhaenyra replied in a sharp tone.

Aelina glanced between father and daughter nervously as Viserys responded just as sharply, "Well, then you should not deprive yourself."

"I shall enjoy them alone," Rhaenyra shot back, walking away.

Aelina winced as Rhaenyra took a seat on a nearby bench. Before Aelina could follow her, Viserys turned to her.

"Tell me, Aelina," Viserys asked, his voice filled with concern. "Was there no Lord out there that Rhaenyra thought was suited?"

Aelina met his gaze, her expression softening at the king's concern. "I tried to be as supportive as possible for the Princess, Your Grace," she said carefully, sensing the weight of his question.

Viserys sighed, his tired eyes drifting back to Rhaenyra. "It is not your fault, perhaps it is mine," he muttered.

Aelina frowned softly. The king's burden as both ruler and father was apparent, but before she could respond, Alicent moved to sit with Rhaenyra, and the moment passed.

It was Daemon who caught her attention next, his gaze intense, softened by a strange, unreadable sadness. "Your father was Ser Varyn, was he not?" Daemon asked, his voice low and more personal than before.

Aelina nodded. "Yes, my Prince."

Daemon tilted his head slightly, his eyes never leaving hers. "He was a man who didn't bend easily," Daemon remarked, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. "A rare quality in these halls. I know your brother, Vaelor, has kept some of that spirit alive."

Aelina blinked at the mention of Vaelor, her elder half-brother. He had always been distant, spending much of his time with his wife, Elys Arryn, in the Vale. "Yes, Vaelor... he's more like our father than he thinks," she replied softly, her voice tinged with a mix of pride and sorrow.

Daemon's smirk faded into something closer to disdain, though not directed at her. "Loyalty," he mused, his gaze flicking briefly to the floor. "A dangerous thing, depending on where it's placed."

Aelina's jaw tightened, wondering what he was possibly suggesting, it was no secret that the relationship Aelina had with her half brother was never the best. "I miss him," she admitted, her voice quiet, not entirely sure if she was regarding her father or her brother in that comment. Perhaps it was about both?

Daemon's eyes softened briefly, but the moment passed quickly, replaced by his usual smirk. "The realm has a habit of losing its best too soon." Before Aelina could respond, Daemon's gaze sharpened. "You'll need to be as strong as he was. The court is unkind to those without shields."

Aelina bit her tongue. She had survived without her father's shield for four years, and while Rhaenyra had protected her from whispers, she could handle more than he assumed.

Viserys, unaware of the tension between them, muttered his apologies and moved toward a group of lords.

Aelina turned back to Daemon, whose smirk only widened in their silence.

"My Prince?" she asked, frowning. She could tell there was something brewing in his mind.

"Did you enjoy the spectacle earlier?" Daemon asked smoothly, his eyes gleaming with amusement.

"I'm sorry, my prince?" Aelina blinked.

His smirk deepened. "I saw you watching. Did it entertain you?"

Aelina hesitated. "It was... something."

"Something," Daemon echoed, his eyes glittering with curiosity. "You stand out more than you think, little Lina."

"How did you see me?" she asked. "I watched you the whole time. It's hard to miss someone walking like they're already king."

Daemon chuckled. "It's hard to miss the girl with dark silver hair." He reached out, twirling a strand of her hair between his fingers. He hummed softly, eyeing her hair. "There's something about you."

"I'm not sure what you mean," Aelina admitted.

Daemon dropped her hair, his smirk widening. "Do not worry, little dragon."

"I'm not—"

"You are of Valyrian blood, aren't you?" Daemon's eyes gleamed, leaning closer. "Velaryon or not, that blood ties you to dragons."

"A Velaryon... bastard," she corrected softly.

"Blood is blood," Daemon murmured, his gaze unwavering. "And Valyrians—whether born of fire or sea—are all touched by dragons."

"If only the majority saw it the way you do," Aelina muttered.

Daemon chuckled, the sound low and dark. "I've never cared much for the majority, little Lina."

"I'm not little," she grumbled. "I'm twenty."

His smirk deepened as he raised an eyebrow. "Maybe not little in years, but you're still looking up at me, aren't you?"

Aelina huffed. He was right; he stood around six foot while she barely reached five-four. Looking around, she noticed that Rhaenyra and Alicent had disappeared, much like the majority of the people around them. Daemon's smile turned slightly softer. "You cling to her like a babe to its mother."

"She is my friend," Aelina retorted. "We understand each other's loss."

Daemon nodded slowly in understanding. "She may not care about your status, but the world does."

Aelina's gaze dropped to the ground, the truth of his words weighing heavily.

Before Aelina could respond, Rhaenyra reappeared from behind a tree. "I see you two are getting along," she said, her eyes flicking between them.

Daemon merely shrugged. "We were just discussing Valyrian blood."

Rhaenyra gave him a knowing look. "I'm sure you were, Uncle."

"Do you not trust me Rhaenyra?" He questioned.

Rhaenyra tilted her head as Daemon gently tilted his head back and basked under the sun. "You seemed so content on Dragonstone. Why did you come back?" She spoke in High Valyrian. Aelina frowned. While she had often heard the language spoken around the Red Keep when Rhaenyra or King Viserys conversed, she didn't understand much of it herself—only a few words and phrases her father had taught her and her brother in their youth. "There is surely more to your return than simply taunting my father."

Daemon smirked slightly as he straightened and his fingers brushed the necklace around Rhaenyra's neck.

"So," she switched back to Common, "what do you want?"

"Only the comforts of home," Daemon answered, moving toward the small banquet. He picked up a goblet, filling it generously with wine before settling himself onto a nearby bench, his feet propped up on the table without a care.

Aelina watched, noticing Rhaenyra's eyes lingering on him. Unable to resist, Rhaenyra followed after him. Aelina's fingers absently toyed with the sea serpent pendant around her neck, her eyes never leaving the pair.

She sighed softly, shaking her head as Daemon lounged so effortlessly, as though he belonged everywhere and nowhere all at once. She wished she could have that freedom.

She watched their conversation continue for a few moments before she quietly retreated inside, leaving the prince and princess to their private world. She had grown used to this—being nearby but never truly part of anyones orbit. The cool breeze faded as she moved toward the corridors of the Red Keep, her thoughts swirling.

Their voices still faintly echoed behind her, but she couldn't make out the words. Their familiarity lingered, reminding her of how she was both close and distant. A bastard, yes—but also someone who longed for that connection, the easy closeness they shared. She hadn't truly had anyone since her father's death, certainly not in her brother who still had not made any contact since the funeral.

Her fingers brushed against the pendant at her throat again, and a small smile flickered across her lips despite herself. Daemon's words had lingered too: "You are a dragon." She wondered if he meant it, or if he was simply playing with her. Either way, part of her wanted to believe it.

She paused in the shadows, glancing back toward the Godswood, her mind torn between retreating entirely or staying within the safety of her quiet corner, watching them from afar. Aelina sighed softly and continued to move, strolling through the halls of the Red Keep. As she walked, she frowned slightly, hearing a baby's crying, and followed the sound until she reached Prince Aegon's chambers. Aelina knocked lightly and heard a slightly stressed "Enter."

When she stepped inside, Aelina noticed Queen Alicent trying to soothe Aegon, his cries echoing through the chamber. Despite the young queen's best efforts, she looked weary, bouncing the baby on her hip, though her face remained slightly composed.

"Can I assist, Your Grace?" Aelina offered softly.

Alicent's eyes flickered with relief, though her expression remained formal. "That would be most appreciated," she replied, her voice gentle but controlled. Aelina moved closer, taking Aegon into her arms.

"You've been busy without us here," Aelina remarked.

Alicent smiled, though the weariness was still visible. "It has been... demanding," she admitted. "How did you find the tour?"

"It was dull," Aelina replied with a sigh. "I'm only glad I'm not the one being shown around like a trophy. I only went because I felt bad for Nyra."

Alicent frowned. "I thought the King ordered you to go?"

Aelina shrugged. "It worked in our favour. I think Rhaenyra would have left sooner had I not been there."

Alicent chuckled softly. "In four years, you two have grown close."

The silver-haired girl's smile faded slightly. "Nyra was hurt after your marriage. Imagine if your father had been announced to wed Rhaenyra, and you weren't told anything beforehand—you'd be a little annoyed too, wouldn't you?"

Alicent nodded. "I suppose so." She then frowned. "I only left to tend to Aegon; why did you leave the party, Aelina?"

"Rhaenyra was talking to Daemon, and they slipped into High Valyrian. I don't really know it," Aelina shrugged. "I think I'll find something to occupy my time with after the Prince here has settled." Aelina glanced down at Prince Aegon, his little fingers gripping her gown. His cries had softened. As she swayed gently with him, she couldn't help but feel the weight of her in-between status. Close enough to Rhaenyra to be considered family, but still, there were walls. High Valyrian—a language she could never master—was just another reminder of the gap between her and the true-born Targaryens and Velaryons, like her brother.

Alicent smiled softly. "Thank you, Aelina. I wanted to try settling him myself without the wet nurses."

"It's alright, Your Grace," Aelina nodded, continuing to sway with Aegon. His crying eventually faded into silence.

Alicent glanced down at her son. "Perhaps I should leave the Prince with you more often, Aelina."

Aelina chuckled. "I fear Princess Rhaenyra would not take kindly to you using me as a wet nurse."

Alicent smiled, though there was a flicker of sadness in her eyes. "Perhaps I envy the bond you have with her. Rhaenyra and I... we were once close."

Aelina nodded, sensing the change in tone. "She still cares for you, Your Grace. You both just..."

"Changed," Alicent finished quietly. She glanced at Aegon who had not quietened completely before continuing, "Things are not as simple anymore."

"Nothing ever is at court," Aelina replied softly, shifting Aegon in her arms before handing him back to Alicent. "I learned that from my father, but bonds like yours aren't easily broken."

Alicent nodded. "One can only hope, Aelina."

Aelina excused herself from Alicent's chambers. Her mind was swirling from everything she had already endured today—from meeting Prince Daemon to the tension she felt between her loyalty to Rhaenyra and the empathy she couldn't help but feel for Alicent. It weighed on her as she strolled through the quiet halls of the Red Keep.

She had learned the path to the library early on during her stay at the castle, it was like muscle memory now. Her feet moved absently through the halls toward her usual retreat. She was rarely required to attend court unless requested by Princess Rhaenyra. Today wasn't one of those days.

Aelina found herself walking toward the grand doors of the library, and as soon as she stepped inside, the scent of old parchment and leather greeted her like a warm blanket. The shelves towered around her, packed with ancient tomes and scrolls—some recounting the histories of Valyria and the Targaryens, others filled with strategies of war and diplomatic records.

The silence was welcoming, a stark contrast to the noise of the throne room and bustling corridors outside.

Aelina made her way to the far end of the room, where fewer courtiers and scholars roamed, and ran her fingers along the spines of the books. Her hand paused when she came across one that detailed the history of the Velaryon bloodline. She pulled it from the shelf and settled into one of the alcove chairs.

She traced the front of the book and frowned slightly, Daemon's words from earlier still haunting her: "You are a dragon." She still didn't know what he had meant by that. Even though people didn't think she belonged here, Aelina felt more herself at sea—it was her home, her childhood. Shaking her head softly, she flipped open the book. While her formal studies on Velaryon history were minimal, no one could tell her she couldn't read and study in her own time, bastard or not.

But as the hours stretched on and the light outside dimmed, her thoughts remained restless. Night fell over the Red Keep, casting long shadows across the stone walls. Aelina closed the book with a sigh and moved from the library to her chambers, but the unease lingered. Instead of finding clarity in the histories, the words had only deepened her sense of disquiet.

She had settled into her bed and the time passed painfully slowly. Her consciousness drifting in and out of a fitful sleep. That is, until a sound stirred her awake.

Her hand instinctively shot to the dagger by her bedside—her father's gift from a year before his death. Her fingers curled around the hilt, eyes wide, scanning the darkness.

A figure moved silently, and the familiar glint of short silver hair caught the faint moonlight filtering through the window.

"Prince Daemon?" Aelina's whisper echoed too loudly in the thick silence.

From the shadows, a smirk appeared before the man. "Aelina," he greeted, voice smooth as ever.

She sighed, placing the dagger back on her bed, though her heartbeat hadn't quite slowed. His presence always carried a strange, unpredictable energy, like a storm barely contained. Her gaze narrowed as she took in his attire—common clothes, simple, yet somehow making him more dangerous.

"Where have you been?" she asked, voice steady but her brow furrowed.

"Where haven't I been?" he replied, his smirk deepening, as though the question itself amused him.

Aelina fought the urge to roll her eyes. Rising from her bed, she crossed the room toward him, her bare feet barely making a sound. She barely knew him but something about felt... off. She circled him, taking in his appearance and he watched her with an amused look in his eye. Suddenly caught a whiff of something unpleasant.

She wrinkled her nose. "What is that smell?"

Daemon gave a casual shrug. "Probably wine and sex."

Aelina blinked, heat rising to her face at the blunt response. "Where did you go?" she asked, her curiosity breaking through.

Daemon's eyes gleamed in the dim light, his smirk playful and devilish. "Out enjoying the night," he said vaguely. But there was something in the way he watched her, as if waiting for her to challenge him, to push him further.

"And you weren't alone, I take it?" Aelina's voice was softer now, though her heart beat faster.

His gaze lingered on her, sharper now, his smirk never faltering. "I took Rhaenyra with me. Showed her the city... as she's never seen it before."

Aelina's stomach twisted at the admission, unease prickling at her skin. "Where?"

"A brothel."

"You took her to a pleasure house?"

Daemon didn't respond immediately, instead stepping closer, his presence overwhelming, his words a murmur that seemed to wrap around her. "Does that bother you, little Lina?"

Her breath hitched slightly. She crossed her arms, refusing to give him the satisfaction of flustering her. "I disapprove of reckless behaviour that could destroy her reputation, along with yours."

He chuckled, circling her as though she were the one being cornered. His proximity made her hyperaware of every movement, every breath. "She is stronger than you think. She enjoyed it."

Aelina's brow creased with worry for her friend, "How could she possibly enjoy that?"

Daemon's smirk widened as he stepped closer, his voice dripping with smug amusement. "Rhaenyra has the blood of the dragon—she enjoyed the thrill." His eyes glinted with a teasing arrogance, knowing how much his words bothered her.

Aelina's frown deepened, her concern for Rhaenyra growing stronger. "Taking her there was reckless, Daemon. Do you care at all what happens if this gets out?"

Daemon's smile faltered for a moment before he replied coolly, "Let them talk. They always do."

"Let them talk?" She almost scoffed at the thought. "I know what it's like for whispers to follow you around Daemon, it isn't enjoyable. Why would you even put her through that?" Silence fell between them and she shook her head. "And what exactly happened with Rhaenyra?" she demanded, voice low but resolute. "Did you... do anything?"

Daemon's smirk returned, but there was something different in his eyes. "You really think I would ruin her like that?"

Aelina crossed her arms, waiting for a real answer.

"She tried to kiss me," Daemon said, his voice low. "But I stopped her. Rhaenyra remains untouched. I walked away."

Aelina's eyes narrowed. "Rhaenyra's spoken of you many times over the years. The way she talks about you... you wouldn't just walk away. Why did you?"

Daemon tilted his head, smirking again, but this time there was something deeper in his gaze. "Perhaps I had someone else in mind." His words lingered, but he didn't elaborate and Aelina sighed and pushed it aside.

"And what happens when your brother, her father, the King finds out?"

"He won't but if he does he'll do what he always does. Nothing," Daemon said, his voice low and dangerous, a challenge in his tone.

Aelina took a step back, suddenly feeling the intensity of his gaze in the small space between them. "You play with fire, Daemon."

He moved in closer, but instead of touching her, his presence loomed—close enough that she could feel the heat from his skin, close enough that her pulse quickened. His gaze flicked downward, lingering on her lips for the briefest of moments, but he made no move beyond that.

"I'm a dragon. It's in my nature," he murmured.

Aelina's pulse raced despite her attempts to remain composed. His closeness was suffocating, yet a part of her didn't want to step away. She was drawn to him, despite knowing better.

"You should leave," she managed, though her voice came out quieter than intended.

Daemon's smirk softened, his eyes darker now, his intent still unclear. "Perhaps I should. But I don't want to."

She stood frozen, the air between them crackling with an unspoken tension. His eyes searched hers, as though looking for something—what, she wasn't sure. His hand hovered just near hers, close enough to feel the heat, but never quite touching, the closeness leaving her breathless. Is that why he left Rhaenyra at the brothel? Because he wanted her instead? Her heart pounded, torn between fear and desire. She barely knew him, and if anyone found out he had come to her chambers after taking the Princess to a brothel... her fragile reputation would shatter in an instant. Without Rhaenyra's protection, there would be no coming back—she was still a bastard after all.

She wondered if she'd be on the wrong side of the door of the Red Keep if that happened.

"You intrigue me, Aelina," Daemon said, his voice softer now, his usual arrogance tempered.

Her breath caught at the unexpected words. She had no retort, no sharp comeback.

"I'm no princess," she whispered, the words feeling hollow against the weight of his gaze.

"Exactly," he replied, his voice low. His hand brushed the air near her arm, a fleeting moment of near-contact before he finally took a step back.

The moment stretched, both of them aware of the line they hadn't crossed, the tension between them like a taut thread that might snap at any second.

"I should go," he murmured, though it seemed as if he didn't truly want to.

"Go where?" Aelina asked, her voice barely steady.

Daemon's smirk returned as he glanced at her one last time, eyes lingering. "I'll see you again, little dragon."

Aelina frowned as his gaze lingered on hers before he slipped into the shadows, she heard something shift before a small light filled part of the room and Daemon disappeared.

Aelina quickly followed, moving the painting like he had before and her eyes widened seeing a whole secret corridor. "Daemon!" She hissed.

The Prince paused his moments and looked back up at her but he didn't say a word. "You didn't answer me, where will you go?"

Daemon only smirked in response before he disappeared down the hall.

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House of the Dragon the perfect distraction you are <3
I hope I wrote the hotd characters well enough here... I haven't wrote any hotd fanfiction before so please tell me if anything feels ooc.