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Rating:
Mature
Archive Warning:
Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Categories:
F/FF/M
Fandoms:
House of the Dragon (TV)Game of Thrones (TV)A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms
Relationships:
OC/Helaena TargaryenDreamfyre | Helaena Targaryen's Dragon & Helaena TargaryenDaemon Targaryen/Rhaenyra TargaryenHelaena Targaryen/Original Male Character(s)
Characters:
Helaena TargaryenDaemon TargaryenRhaenyra TargaryenKermit TullyDaeron Targaryen (Son of Viserys I)Aegon II TargaryenAemond "One-Eye" TargaryenAlicent HightowerOtto HightowerJeyne ArrynOriginal Rhea Royce/Daemon Targaryen Child(ren)
Additional Tags:
The Dance of the Dragons | Aegon II Targaryen v. Rhaenyra Targaryen EraAutistic Helaena TargaryenHelaena Targaryen Deserves BetterDragon Dreamer Helaena TargaryenOriginal Character(s)
Language:
English
Series:
Part 1 of The Bronze Dragon Next Work →
Collections:
Heroes hive👀
Stats:
Published:2022-10-28Completed:2024-10-27Words:301,770Chapters:97/97Comments:984Kudos:2,279Bookmarks:487Hits:168,928
The Bronze Dragon
kornerbrandon, orphan_account
Chapter 3
Chapter Text
What can be said of Viserys I, better known as Viserys the Peaceful? He reigned over Westeros at the height of Targaryen power. More dragons were in existence during his reign that at any other. Yet at the same time, his reign planted the seeds that would grow into the Dance of the Dragons. I have often pondered how things would have turned out if he had been a better father to his children by Queen Alicent. My father's opinion of the man, to this day, remains complicated. Ultimately, it will only be the fullness of time that can judge Viserys I, and we cannot know how kind or unkind it will be.
King's Landing
Viserys sighed as he and Lyonel Strong, his ever loyal Hand, made their way through the Red Keep to his chambers. The scuffle in the training yard had wrecked any hopes he had at the boys forming a bond in the short term. The only one of them who didn't seem to have any grudges was Daeron, and that was likely because he was too young, though he hoped it was because the boy was genuinely kind at heart. He shook his head as he sat down, looking out over King's Landing through the window.
"What do you make of Daevar, Lyonel?" He asked, turning to face the Lord of Harrenhal.
"Your Grace?"
"Daevar. Daemon's son. What do you make of him?" He asked again. Lyonel tried to pick his words carefully but truthfully. He had a great deal of respect for Daevar already, truth be told. The boy was not exactly the spitting image of his father, but did seem to inherit the Rogue Prince's skill with a sword, if the training yard was any indication.
"He is growing into a fine young man, Your Grace. I've no doubt that Runestone will be well served with him as its ruler." Lyonel said.
Viserys smiled and nodded. "Indeed. And Lady Jeyne will be well served having him as one of her bannermen. When the time comes for him to lead men, I've little doubt he will prove himself indispensable." He replied enthusiastically. Much had been said of Daevar; how he had inherited his mother's skill on horseback and his father's skill at arms, though it was usually coupled with the mention of Lady Rhea's untimely death and Daemon effectively abandoning him.
Viserys sighed. The boy was owed better than that. At the very least, Daemon could've had him sent to Driftmark to be raised by Rhaenys or something akin to that instead of leaving him in the Vale. Instead he'd gone off to fight in the Stepstones and waste his life in Essos with Laena Velaryon, leaving Daevar in the care of Ser Gerold Royce, and raising tensions with the entire Vale as a consequence. "I think–" He was cut off by the door opening, revealing Ser Erryk Cargyll.
"Lord Daevar of Houses Targaryen and Royce, Your Grace." He announced as the boy entered the room. Daevar was only of average height, yet carried himself with an air of lordly authority, with his shoulders squared, back straight, and his head high. Lamentation was strapped to his hip, and the bronze cuirass still adorned his chest. Viserys had heard the tales of the bronze armour of House Royce; how the runes made them invulnerable to their enemies. Of course, many Royces had died wearing that armour, so Viserys mostly saw it as a status symbol.
The King smiled as his only nephew approached him. "Ah. Daevar, my boy. Welcome." He said, holding out his one good arm. Over the last decade, Viserys's left arm had rotted with disease, forcing Maester Orwyle to have it removed to stop the infection. To any man, an injury of this magnitude would shake their lives, yet Viserys seemed to be bothered by it very little.
"Your Grace." Daevar greeted, bowing.
Viserys chuckled. "Is that any way to greet your uncle?" He asked, before putting a hand on Daevar's shoulder. "It's good to have you back in King's Landing. Tell me, how are things in Runestone?"
"Fine, uncle. Gerold has been making sure I'm ready to rule the castle and its lands in the next two years."
"Indeed. You wear your office well, Daevar. Your mother would be very proud. So, to what do I owe this audience?"
Daevar took a second to form the right words in his head before saying, "I've come to ask your permission to bring Daeron back to Runestone as a cupbearer and page when I return there. Aemond already has Ser Criston to oversee his training. I wish to oversee Daeron's." He said. The words were slightly awkward, but they seemed to have the intended effect as Viserys inclined his head.
"A fine proposition, Daevar. Yes, Daeron would perhaps do well away from his brothers. But what would be done about his dragon? Tessarion is still a small beast, but she will grow with time."
This time, it was Daevar's turn to nod. "Ser Gerold had a cave dug into the hills near Runestone when i was young; everyone thought I was going to claim a dragon when I was growing up. Alas, I never did." He said, parting his hands. Lack of a dragon was not a dealbreaker to Viserys, they both knew that. If it had been Daevar's father, well…
"Then I see no reason why Daeron cannot go with you to Runestone." Viserys smiled.
Daevar returned the gesture, before bowing once more. "Thank you, uncle. I swear you will not regret this." Viserys saw that his nephew was growing into a young lord already, and though he seemed to have inherited his father's striking good looks, the boy hadn't inherited much of his father's attitudes. There had been no reports of him coupling with whores, for example. Daeron would also likely benefit from his sword instruction; he had seen how skilled a fighter Daevar was in the training yard.
Once Daevar had left the room, Lyonel spoke up. "The Queen had planned on having Prince Daeron squire for her cousin Ormund, Your Grace." He said, causing Viserys to sigh.
"Then I shall inform her that there has been a change of plans. Daeron will go to Runestone and learn the arts of war from the Knights of the Vale; the finest warriors in Westeros. There are no finer people to learn from." And with Daevar overseeing his training, what could go wrong?
Later that evening…
It was a warm night in the capital. Most of the city had already faded off to rest, and honest folk had abandoned the streets. That hadn't occurred up in the Red Keep though; someone was always up and about. Tonight, Helaena had decided that she wanted to look at the stars, which is why she found herself sitting in the godswood, gazing up at the sky. It was clear and beautiful, and the stars shone like specks of white against the night.
The godswood was the one place in the Red Keep that she found oddly calming. She knew her mother found the heart tree especially to be strangely frightening; she had once commented that it felt like the tree was staring into her soul. Yet Helaena felt at ease here; maybe it was something about the trees swaying in the gentle breeze or the stars themselves. Sometimes she had seen Larys Strong, her father's Master of Whisperers, walking through and gently muttering what she though was a prayer before he moved on, but other than that, the godswood was mostly deserted.
She looked up into the sky again before she was interrupted by a visitor, though she smiled when she turned to the heavy footfalls. "Daevar, it's good to see you."
Her cousin was still wearing the bronze cuirass, though she had heard that it was a status symbol for the Lord of Runestone, or so she had been told. "It's good to see you too, cousin." Daevar said. "Would you mind if I joined you?"
Helaena shook her head, and offered a spot beside her. Daevar had always been kind to her whenever he'd visited King's Landing. She'd have liked to have visited him in Runestone at least once, but such travel had been forbidden by her mother. She would have a duty to fulfill to her family in time in the form of a marriage. With Aegon and Nesaena being betrothed, she always figured that she would marry Aemond, but she supposed it was just as likely that she would be married off to secure an alliance with another house. Maybe the Winterfell heir Cregan Stark.
"It's a lovely night." Daevar said, trying to spark a conversation.
Helaena nodded. "I enjoy coming out here." She replied. "It's quiet and peaceful." Not like the inside of the Red Keep, she thought but didn't add.
"No arguments here." Came the reply as Daevar finally untied his sword belt and sat down on the soft grass next to her. "Can still smell the stink from the city though." He added.
Helaena couldn't help but agree with him. "It can be rather pungent at times. What's it like in Runestone? The sky, I mean." She asked.
"It's always clear there." Daevar replied. "Look up, and you're always able to see blue skies. Unless it's raining." He deadpanned.
"Because of the clouds?" She asked. Daevar nodded. It was sometimes easy to forget that Helaena occasionally needed confirmation about what someone was talking about. He followed her gaze upward at the stars after that. He didn't hold the same affinity for stars and the world above as Helaena did, but he was happy to keep her company.
"You should come and visit us in Runestone, cousin." He turned to her. "His Grace agreed to let me take Daeron as a cupbearer. You could come and visit him on Dreamfyre."
Helaean knew she'd have to think about that one. Her mother wouldn't be happy about it, of that she was certain. She would have to convince her father to let her visit. And with Daeron there, it would be a lot easier; she could say that she was simply going to visit her brother and see how he was doing so far from home. Her mother would have to allow that.
"I will speak to mother about it. I cannot see a reason why she would not." She said, Daevar nodded at that. Hopefully Alicent would agree to let her come and visit Runestone at some point; he had little doubt that she'd like it there.
Daevar then raised his hand and held it out towards Helaena, who raised her own hand, pressing the tips of her fingers to his with a slight smile. He liked it when he could get that kind of reaction from the girl; she always seemed so happy when she did. A far cry from her brother Aegon's treatment of her, that was for sure. Daevar had, admittedly, avoided her quite a lot when they were young, mostly down to the fact that he was unsure how to interact with such an odd girl, but it had come with time. Now, seeing her whenever he was in King's landing was one of the joys of his visits there, among other things.
"Actually, speaking of your mother, Her Grace will likely tan my hide if I don't bring you inside soon." He said. It was unfortunate, but perhaps that was necessary, Helaena knew. Her mother was extremely myopic about keeping her safe. She shrugged and stood up, Daevar following her. "I'm sorry Helaena; I just don't think your mother trusts me around girls."
"What, because of you being caught with the servant girls around the Red Keep?" She asked. Daevar looked at her, a little stunned. "I may be odd, Daevar, but I'm not stupid."
He smiled. "You most definitely are not, Helaena." He tied his sword belt on as he stood up with her.
The two of them walked in a comfortable silence, even as they occasionally came across the soldiers patrolling the corridors, as well as the odd Goldcloak. Daevar was a bit more cautious around the City Watchmen now, especially with the confrontation between Ser Criston and Ser Harwin in the training yard.
"Goodnight, cousin." He said as they arrived at her chambers.
"To you as well, Daevar." She said as she left.
He spotted Kyra on his way back to his chambers, and beckoned for her to follow him. Kyra giggled before eagerly taking his hand.
Pentos . . .
Daemon sat on the roof of Prince Reggio's Palace. Much had gone through his mind lately; he knew they couldn't stay here forever, even with the Prince's hospitality. Sooner or later, they would have to move on, either north to Braavos or east to Volantis. He was more likely to get a dagger in the chest if they went to Lys, Myr or Tyrosh. He could try his luck back in King's Landing, and send Laena and the girls to Runestone. Daevar would make sure nothing bad would happen to them, that much he hoped at least. At the very least, the Vale's traditions would forbid him from doing harm.
He heard a door open and saw his wife, Laena Velaryon approaching him. He smiled gently as he approached and he moved a cushion around for her, knowing that rest was vital when a woman was as pregnant as she was. "Laenor has written again." She said. "Rhaenyra has given birth to another son." She smiled. Daemon laughed humourlessly.
"Did your brother mention that this son also has a marked yet entirely coincidental resemblance to the Lord Commander of the City Watch?" He scoffed. Part of him had to admire Rhaenyra's boldness at having such an affair openly, but boldness often skirted close to being outright foolishness. As far as he was concerned, this fell into the latter. Ser Harwin Strong had been his deputy for some time during his own tenure with the Watch, and he was certainly muscled well enough to attract any maiden's attentions, but he was not nearly of high enough station for someone like Rhaenyra, not to mention he was not Valyrian.
"He seems to have left that detail out." Laena chuckled. "I miss my brother, Daemon. As I think do you."
"I miss Westerosi strongwine." Daemon replied. "It could be depended on for a few hours of peaceful oblivion. This amber shit they drink here…" He stood up and made his way over to the wall.
"Do you never long for home?" Laena asked, hands resting on her stomach.
"No."
"I don't believe you."
"Believe what you please."
"You laud the virtues of Pentos, but you have no interest in it." Laena challenged. "If you did, you would go down into the city. Instead you spend all your time in the library, reading accounts and histories of the dead dragonlords whose legacy you claim has no hold over you." She figured now was a good time to air her frustration, much to Daemon's own frustration.
"I was unaware that I was being so minutely observed."
"You do not sleep-"
"How can I, with you haunting my every move?" he asked. Laena sighed. She wasn't getting through to him.
"I know life has disappointed you, Daemon. Perhaps I am not the wife you wished for." He turned to interrupt her but she wasn't finished. "It does not pain me; I have made my peace with it, Daemon. But you are more than this. The man I married was more than this." She sighed, resting a head on his shoulder. "And I want Baela and Rhaena to know their home."
"What home do we have in Westeros?" he asked.
"Runestone." Laena answered, as if the answer was obvious. "Your son rules there. Baela and Rhaena would live comfortably there. They deserve to meet their brother."
Daemon sighed and dropped his head. So, he wasn't the only one that notion had occurred to. His letter to Lady Jeyne asking her to reconsider his banishment had gone unanswered; evidently the woman still held a grudge against him. Fortune pisses on me.
"You may go to Runestone if you wish. I have no doubt the boy will take care of you. But I cannot go there, Laena. I am forbidden from setting foot in the Vale. However, it will be safe for you and Baela and Rhaena. You deserve a place to rest your feet." He had to admit that much. The constant shifting of their home wasn't exactly conducive to raising children.
"We cannot go without you. Send a letter to your son, ask him to speak with Lady Arryn. She will listen to him."
Daemon sighed again and looked out over the city. Where did they belong? Valyria was gone. King's Landing was unfriendly to him. He couldn't go near Runestone. Running all over the Free Cities wasn't a great idea either, especially with the Triarchy beginning to recover its strength. Braavos was uncertain as well, come to think of it. The city had its lifeblood in trade, and had enjoyed quite a significant agreement with the Three Daughters before he had smashed their armies and killed a former Sealord's wastrel of a son in a duel over Laena. He smiled briefly at the memory.
There was nowhere for them to go. Not really. Any journey would be fraught by hazards from angry pirate captains who would chance their luck on them, and there was no way they, their children, and their belongings could all be carried on Caraxes and Vhagar.
He would have to think things over.
Unusual for him, he had to admit.
Laena Velaryon would pass away that evening. Most say that she died from complications in childbirth, but my aunts always insisted that she died a dragonrider's death. That could mean any number of things though, from commanding Vhagar to burn her to simply falling off the old dragon mid-flight.
Word of her death would reach Driftmark first, and King's Landing not long after. My father recalls feeling sorry for the Velaryons, but unable to truly empathise with their feelings; likely a consequence of having never met Laena. Either way it was soon announced that Laena's funeral would be held on Driftmark, with all the royal family in attendance, including my father.
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