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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:489Hits:168,968
The Bronze Dragon
kornerbrandon, orphan_account
Chapter 7
Notes:
Sorry for the delay everyone! I will endeavour to make updates more regular from now on.
Chapter Text
Runestone has always been my father's true home, and any time he gets to visit, he finds it difficult to leave. After all, it was the land he ruled over prior to the war, and where he met his closest compatriots. Among them were Ser Willam and Lady Alyssa, the children of Ser Gerold Royce and Lady Julia Tully, and his faithful dog, Arrow.
However, none of his companions have ever been as close to him as Kermit Tully, who served as Ser Gerold's squire at the time.
Much has been said and written of Kermit Tully. His years of service to my father, his bravery in the war, or his skill with a morningstar. What many don't know is that the Kermit Tully of my father's youth was very different to the one history remembers…
"Ow! Was that really necessary!?"
The two figures sparring in the middle of Runestone's courtyard had been at it for some time now. One of them was swinging around a wooden morningstar with practised ease. The other, a wooden longsword, which he had just used to crack his opponent's hand, making him drop his weapon.
"Evidently so, Kermit. You're still not using the shield properly." Willam replied; he was feeling slightly smug that Kermit's desire not to wear gauntlets in this training session had now come back to bite him. Kermit simply rubbed the pain out of his hand before picking up his morningstar once more, and making another attempt to attack. And after several swings and one successful attempt to graze his opponent's sword, Kermit once again felt the sting of defeat when Willam's sword clashed with his helmet, sending a ring through his head as he fell back on his bottom, and left sprawling on his back. He pulled off his helmet, revealing the red hair and blue eyes of House Tully, and hurled it at the swordsman, who deflected it easily with his shield.
"See? This is how you use it." He replied.
"I've had enough of you for today, Willam." Kermit grumbled, getting up and dusting off his trousers.
"You could always go back to fighting my father. I'm sure he'll go much easier on you than I will." Willam replied, pulling off his own helmet, a smug grin plastered on his face.
"Fuck you." Kermit muttered under his breath, making sure that Willam couldn't hear him. "Is this punishment for last night or something?" He asked, this time more clearly.
"Kermit, you broke into the castle cellar and made off with a flagon of wine!" Willam exclaimed, putting away his sword and shield before turning back to Kermit. "I'd say my father is going rather lightly on you, considering you didn't drink it all."
"That was just a sampling! I was saving the rest for when Daevar–"
"When Daevar what?" Came a voice. The two of them turned to see that the boy in question had ridden through the gates on horseback, still looking every inch the Lord of Runestone with that magnificent, highly-polished bronze cuirass glinting in the sunlight.
"When you came back." Kermit finished, hugging his friend with a grin the second he had dismounted the horse. "It's good to see you again, Daevar. I was beginning to think you'd abandoned us for the capital!"
"Not in a million years, Kermit." Daevar smirked, patting him on the shoulder. Much as the events of the last few weeks were playing on him, he felt relieved to be back home where everything made sense once again, and to see his friends. Especially Kermit. As it was, the boy was sweating madly underneath the training armour that he was wearing. "Why don't you go clean up first, Kermit? We can catch up in the keep."
"Anything happen while you were there?" Kermit asked, throwing an arm around his shoulder. "Did you finally meet the girl you're going to marry one day?"
Daevar looked a bit stunned. This was likely the first time in forever that Kermit's glibness was true. ". . .Yes, actually." He said.
"Wait, you're serious?" Kermit stopped dead in his tracks and looked at him. Willam, too. Daevar's expression, however, remained unchanged. "Seven Hell . . .you ARE serious. Who?"
Daevar sighed. "Princess Helaena Targaryen. My cousin."
Kermit's eyes widened at that. Everyone knew that Queen Alicent had bore the King three sons and two daughters, and the fact that Daevar was marrying one was… well, it wasn't exactly unheard of for a secondary lord to be betrothed to a royal princess, but it was still amazing.
"A Princess of the Blood?" Kermit asked before slapping Daevar's shoulder. "That IS something to celebrate. We must–"
"Must what?" Another voice said. A younger boy, around nine, rode through the gates before dismounting and running up to the trio. "We must what?" He repeated.
"Erm… we must… Daevar, who's this?" Kermit asked, afraid of saying something he might regret around a child so young.
"Oh! Of course. Kermit, Willam, this is Helaena's youngest brother, Daeron Targaryen. I've taken him as a page and cupbearer, with permission from His Grace, King Viserys." Daevar introduced them. Daeron, never one to shy away, gave Kermit and Willam both a surprisingly firm handshake and a smile.
"So not only are you betrothed to a Targaryen Princess, but you have a Targaryen Prince as your cupbearer?" Willam asked rhetorically. He was still trying to process the whole thing himself.
"Every noble house should make you their negotiator now!" Kermit laughed, clapping Daevar's shoulder again. "Just remember, that means I get Aly all to myself now."
"And I'm certain she'll be overjoyed." Daevar replied. "Apparently Lady Arryn and my uncle had been talking about it for some years but never acted on it until recently." He understood the reasoning for that. Viserys had apparently been rather uncomfortable at the prospect of marrying the twelve year old Laena Velaryon after Aemma died, though he had apparently married Queen Alicent without much hesitation despite her being only fifteen at the time. He likely would have been even less enthusiastic of marrying off one of his own children at such a young age.
"Well, either way, a marriage to a Princess is something to be celebrated." Kermit said. "Come on, I have a flagon of wine waiting for us in my chambers."
"A flagon that you stole." Willam reminded him. Daevar sighed at that. It wasn't the first time Kermit had been in trouble for stealing something; there had been an incident not that long ago where he had gotten in trouble for stealing vegetables from a farmer's patch; he did eventually pay the man back after a scolding from Gerold, but the whole thing had been rather humiliating for the future Lord of Riverrun.
"Stole, repossessed, what's the difference?" He said before they were interrupted by a small roar as a dragon began to descend, eventually landing beside Daeron. It wasn't a big one, Kermit noted – not much larger than a horse – but everyone present recoiled slightly at the sight of it. Kermit and Willam especially, as both began judging the distance between themselves and the armoury, ready to make a dash for their weapons."Oh, don't mind her. This is Tessarion." Daeron replied, rather happily. The she-dragon was a beautiful creature to look at, with wings the colour of cobalt and a crest and claws of bright copper. She was still a young dragon as well, barely six years old, but that made her perfect for her rider. Daeron had relished the chance to raise his dragon from a young age. I'll ride her one day. I know I will.
"She's also still young." Daevar said. "Not to worry, everyone. Tessarion will follow every command that Daeron gives her; the two of them are very tightly bonded to say the least." He explained. He had felt a bit nervous about the dragon's arrival itself, but there was still the expectation that he would end up claiming a dragon one day, which probably accounted for the restrained shock on most of the soldiers' faces.
"It's a good thing we kept that cave ready then, isn't it?" A voice said. The four looked over to see Ser Gerold Royce approaching them, sword fasten at his waist. Gerold's face was showing more signs of ageing now; his once black hair and beard had become dotted with grey and he was slightly stooped over form the weight he used to carry on campaign against the Hill Tribes. Still, he was Regent of Runestone for another two years yet, and Daevar had learnt to trust his guidance over the last decade.
"It certainly is, Ser Gerold. Willam, would you be able to show Daeron and Tessarion to the cave that we had hollowed out a few years ago? Seems like the best place to keep her."
"Yes, My Lord." Willam replied, nervously informing Daeron of where it was. Daeron called for Tessarion to follow them, and to the surprise of just about everyone, the dragon did without much hesitation.
"I'm surprised the beast follows his instructions that easily." Gerold said, raising an eyebrow.
"He is her rider, Ser Gerold. That sort of bond is a strong one." Daevar said. He just hoped that Daeron would be able to keep the young dragon in check.
"It is good to see you again, Daevar." Gerold smiled, putting a hand on Daevar's shoulder. Every visit to King's Landing Daevar made these days had him on edge, leaving him wondering if this would be the time the Targaryens would finally sink their claws into him. Thankfully, he seemed to be able to resist them for the most part. Like his mother, he had remained loyal to House Royce.
"You too, Gerold." Daevar replied, closing the distance between them with a hug. Gerold was a bit caught off guard, but eventually chuckled, giving the lad a small pat on the back as he returned the gesture. "Now, what's this about Kermit stealing wine?"
"He stole a flagon from the castle cellar." Gerold sighed. "If that boy wishes to become a knight, he needs to learn proper discipline sooner or later. I'd rather he learnt it from me than Elmo." Elmo Tully was Gerold's nephew by marriage, and a good friend of his besides. He was also, with the death of Julia's older brother, the heir to Riverrun. Kermit seemed to revel in his status as being second in line for House Tully's ancestral home, much to the chagrin of just about everyone around him.
"He will learn one day, Ser Gerold." Daevar said. "I'm sure he will."
Gerold just nodded. "So, I overheard what was said. You are to marry the Princess Helaena when she has her blood."
Daevar nodded. "I am, Gerold. This doesn't trouble you, does it?"
"Quite the contrary, Daevar. This will mean great things for House Royce." Gerold said. Once upon a time, he had hoped that Daevar would marry Alyssa, or failing that, Alysanne Blackwood, but he was aware of the possibility that Daevar would marry a Targaryen one day; the dragonlords always seemed to marry within their family. Still, it was better than marrying a sibling.
"It was apparently at the behest of the King and Lady Jeyne." Daevar explained. "Though I suppose I could do worse than Helaena, at least."
"What do you mean 'at least'?" Kermit asked, running back from the keep and sliding an arm around Daevar's shoulder once again. "You're marrying a princess! We must celebrate!"
"Not with the flagon of wine you stole, Kermit." Gerold said.
Kermit groaned. "Must you always ruin my fun, Ser Gerold?"
"Come on, Ser Gerold," Daevar intervened, "The wine was going to be drank some day anyway, and a marriage to the throne is a momentous occasion. Surely you can let it slide just this once? I just got back." He technically could overrule Ser Gerold if he wanted to, but hopefully the man would simply let it go by this time.
Gerold sighed and nodded. "Fine. Just this once." He said. Kermit quietly cheered and led Daevar back into the keep.
"Do you wish for your new squire to join us, Daevar?" He asked.
"No, absolutely not. Daeron is far too young for what you have in mind, I think."
Kermit let out a laugh at that. "Indeed! Now, let's get drunk, eh?"
The situation on Dragonstone was… volatile in the aftermath of the Driftmark incident to say the least. The death of Laenor and rapid marriage of Rhaenyra to Daemon hadn't exactly endeared her sons to the man, who remained suspicious that he had something to do with their father's disappearance. Jace in particular seemed intent on avoiding the man as much as he could, while Luke mostly followed his brother's lead.
Not all things were as calm as that though. Upon hearing of Daevar's swift refusal to marry her, Baela had flown into a rage. "Why did he refuse to marry me?! Who does he think he is?!" She shouted. By now, word had spread that the reason he had reacted so poorly when asked to marry her by Rhaenys was that it would be incest, and he could never abide an incestuous marriage. Baela had reacted with rage at the whole thing; incestuous marriage was what they did! They had to keep the bloodline pure and uncompromised! It was what separated them from the rest of the country they ruled over!
Rhaena was more circumspect. Did she think Daevar was handsome? Yes, no one could deny that he was a handsome boy and would only grow better-looking with age. While she put on a brave face though, part of her couldn't help but think that maybe if they hadn't been related, he would've married her.
Perhaps that was a bit ludicrous; Baela was the eldest – by nearly two years – and it was expected that he would marry her. The fact that he had ruled it out so emphatically, though, had left her staring out the window of her chamber in the direction of Dragonstone, perhaps hoping that something might change and he would come around eventually. She sighed and returned to her embroidery; perhaps that would end up calming her down a little.
Baela however, had determined to get answers from her father. After all, he had fathered Daevar once, so it stood to reason that he understood the boy better than she did. She found her father looking down at the Painted Table, where Aegon had planned his conquest of Westeros with his sister, Visenya and Rhaenys. He often told them stories about that as they had grown up in Pentos.
"Father, I need to ask you something." She said, in her typical straightforward fashion.
"What is it, Baela?" He asked, as if he was annoyed with her interrupting his daydreaming. Nonetheless, she pressed on.
"Why did Daevar react so poorly when Lady Rhaenys suggested we marry?" She asked. "We are Targaryens after all; we're meant to marry within the family."
"That boy is no Targaryen anymore." He growled lowly. "He has turned his back on this family for good."
"But he's still my brother and your son. Surely-"
"He is no son of mine." Daemon snapped. "But it is typical of these lesser lords to refuse offers from us out of nothing but spite and jealousy. They believe themselves our equals when in reality, they are not. So, they find whatever ways they can to spit in our eyes while still declaring their allegiance. It is their way."
Baela was uncertain on that. Daevar might have worn the bronze armour of the Royces and had their runes worked into the metal, but he still looked like a Targaryen. He had the silver hair and good looks, even if his eyes were brown rather than violet like theirs. "What exactly did happen between the two of you, father? You mislike him for some reason."
"The boy accused me of killing his mother." Daemon replied. He had rehearsed his response to this about a million times and knew it off by heart now. "She died in a hunting accident, but he blames her passing on me. I suspect Gerold Royce found his way into Daevar's head and turned him against me."
Baela was still unsure, even with that answer. She had her own suspicions for how rapidly her father had remarried himself to Rhaenyra after her mother's death, not to mention she was quietly angry that it had been just after the funeral. "I… think I understand, father."
"Good. Now run along and see to Moondancer; I'm sure she's hungry." He said, waving her away. Baela sighed; she had been hoping for a longer conversation about Daevar, but she supposed this would have to do for now. You'll get the chance to see him again, she thought. It would after all be expected for Daevar to make routine visits to the Crownlands as he had done for years now, and Rhaena had often spoken of her desire to see the Vale. Baela did too, even if it was just to see the sites of the battles Robar II Royce had fought.
There was something about the gallant defender of the people that she was really interested in.
Sighing to herself, Baela made her way back to her chambers. She had intended to stop by Rhaena, but after seeing Luke talking with her, decided not to interrupt. Better for the two of them to get used to each other now rather than later. With Daevar now to be married to Helaena, Rhaena and Luke would likely be betrothed, along with her to Jace; the brothers that they barely knew, and it wouldn't be many years before they were betrothed to each other.
How can I marry a man I barely know? She thought to herself.
The friendship between my father and Lord Kermit has endured all manner of war, pestilence and conflict, and is one of the foundations of Westeros today. Their commitment to peace has remained one reason why our country remains a shining light to the rest of the world, while their strength at home has prevented another major war between the houses since the Dance. It will ultimately be up to future generations to see if their legacy sticks.
As for my aunts, I can understand their bafflement at my father's refusal to marry either of them. The Targaryens have practised familial incest for generations, and the marriage of Daemon and Rhaenyra was merely the latest in that line. My father, however, has always been uneasy on some of our family traditions, and I suspect his closeness to his own Westerosi heritage-which he has always felt closer to than his Valyrian ancestors-played a part in it.
Either way, the matter of marriage was settled. My parents were to marry when they were of age. And with that marriage, came new horizons.
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