It was still early in the morning, but Maekar found himself in an increasingly bad mood.
Why? Because of the mess he was forced to look after.
Maekar spent the days following Aenys' abrupt departure stuck in the Eyrie, which was more time than he would have liked. He had been planning on heading back to King's Landing straight away after the feast, but he decided to stick around to play nice with Lord Arryn despite his desire to do otherwise. He knew what a scandal it could become if he left with the powerful lord feeling slighted. He also knew what his father would say once he heard how Aenys and Aerion had behaved toward Lord Arryn. Maekar didn't want to deal with that headache on top of everything else, especially if he left so quickly without doing his duty as a prince of the crown, so he had to play nice to try and placate the man's anger. It was not a task that he was particularly suited for, but there was no else to do it.
Already the servants were talking about the incident, making a spectacle out of it. As if Aenys had declared war upon the Eyrie if Lord Arryn disrespected him again. They were not wholly wrong, but it was not the type of gossip that Maekar wanted going around. Not that he could do anything about it by this point. It was so well known that the other lords who were still resting in the castle had heard of it. Now, those same lords were leaving the Eyrie and returning to their lands. As a result, it would not take long for word to spread about Aenys and Shiera's relationship.
Maekar knew what would come out of it. It would cause another storm in the realm.
'Bloody hells, Baelor should be here for this.'
His brother was the diplomatic one. Baelor was the one who could pretend to care about the petty feelings of the lords. Maekar didn't have enough patience to play nice with all of these antics.
On second thought, maybe that wouldn't be such a good idea. While the Arryns weren't as direct with their disapproval of his brother as some other houses, Maekar was not so blind to not see where the Arryns' mindset was. While not firmly set in one of the two political camps that seemed to be forming right underneath the crown's gaze, they were certainly leaning in one direction.
There was a reason why Donnel Arryn was so upset to see his granddaughter being ignored by Aenys in favor of Shiera.
That was another headache that Maekar knew he was going to have to deal with once he reported this development to his father.
Aelinor was beside herself with grief over this. She had spent much of her time in the castle's sept, asking for guidance. It seemed as if she was not happy that her son had fallen for someone who many in the realm regarded as an evil witch. Maekar was only thankful that there was no septon here. He didn't want to have to deal with such Andal beliefs right now if Aelinor was able to voice her grief out loud. He had enough on his plate trying to keep Aerion in line.
"You're getting worked over nothing, father," Aerion had said after Maekar had pulled him aside once Aenys and Shiera had left. "Are we not dragons? Why should we care about the opinions of petty lords like the Arryns? The only reason they claim the Vale is because the Conqueror allowed them to."
Maekar was no religious man. But at that moment, he had been tempted to pray for more patience.
Despite Aerion's thoughts on the matter, Maekar had made his son apologize for speaking out of turn. It was clear from the look on Donnel Arryn's face that he did not believe for a second that Aerion was sincere, especially with the monotonous tone in which Aerion delivered his words, but he accepted the apology nonetheless.
The only reassurance that Maekar could find during these trying times was his eldest Daeron who promised to keep an eye out for Aerion to make sure that he did speak out of turn anymore.
A small miracle there.
What made all of this worse was that Daella was curious to know why her cousin Aelora was so upset. His eldest daughter still retained her innocence, so she did not understand what Aenys and Shiera had done. Maekar was planning on keeping it that way, but it was hard to deflect her consistent questions. If only Dyanna were here. She would know what to say.
And now, Aenys and Shiera were gallivanting somewhere in the realm without anyone knowing of their location. Brynden wouldn't speak of what he knew, further aggravating Maekar. No amount of threats was enough to persuade Brynden to change his mind.
It was just exactly what Maekar needed. A rogue prince with a dragon. The only dragon, might he add.
'Sometimes I wonder if he's not one of my own with how much grief he brings me,' Maekar thought with something that might resemble a mix of fondness and annoyance. Aenys had a way of testing him that mirrored Aerion's antics sometimes.
Perhaps it was Aerion who was following in Aenys' footsteps instead?
Something to think about.
The prince found himself overseeing the last of the preparations inside his chambers as he and his family readied themselves to head back down the Giant's Lance. While he was happy to finally be rid of this place, he was not looking forward to the trek down. It was not that he was fearful of the basket contraption. It was just uncomfortable.
"Brother!" Maekar was greeted by Rhaegel's excited face as he strolled into his chambers. His older brother was dressed in his black and red doublet which he often favored. "I've been looking for you. I was just speaking to my good-father."
Maekar was fond of his older brother, but the mention of the Arryns soured his mood again. Donnel Arryn was well-aware of Rhaegel's….simple nature. He might even be tempted to use it to his advantage.
"Is that so?" He tried to keep his tone neutral. "What did Lord Arryn want?"
"He just wanted to express his disappointment in Aenys' sudden departure. Apparently he wanted to personally invite our nephew to a tourney in his honor that he plans to host next year if possible."
Maekar didn't know how genuine Donnel was with the prospect of a tourney, but he didn't question his brother about it.
"I see. I knighted Aenys in the aftermath of the battle, but the realm has not seen his skills. Perhaps a tourney would do him good."
Maekar tried to keep his response neutral, but perhaps he had been too positive with his words as Rhaegel's face lit up.
"Right!" Rhaegel nodded enthusiastically. "He's always going about wanting to test his skills, so I was happy to see my good-father come up with the idea. He hasn't been to a tourney yet, right? But a year might take too long, don't you think? Perhaps father would be open to the idea of hosting a tourney in King's Landing to celebrate your actions against the mountain clans! I'm sure the whole realm would come, and it could be done quicker."
Maekar wasn't so sure. While the mountain clans had been a noticeable threat, they weren't the only ones testing the authority of the Iron Throne at this time. Maekar didn't know all the specifics, but before he left King's Landing he'd heard that there was someone calling themselves the Vulture King who had risen up against the crown somewhere in the Red Mountains. His father had personally tasked Lord Dondarrion with rooting out this so-called king. Depending on how the situation played out, the campaign could very well be finished by now.
Something else to look forward to he supposed.
"We'll speak to father about it when we return," Maekar said as he turned back to the papers that he had been going through. It was the list of supplies that they would be taking with them on their journey to Gulltown along with a retinue of knights that would be accompanying them.
Lord Arryn was being most considerate with what he was supplying them with at least.
"Alys is worried, you know." Rhaegel's more somber tone caused Maekar to look at his brother again.
"She thinks Aenys meant to hurt Aelora with his actions before he left."
Did she now? Maekar wanted to scoff. Either the woman was ignorant and didn't know Aenys well enough, or she was letting whatever anger she felt at the situation blind her.
"What do you think, brother?" Maekar asked instead, wanting to hear his brother's thoughts on the matter.
"Aenys is a good boy," Rhaegel said with a firm nod. "I don't think he would hurt Aelora on purpose. He loves his family."
"Just not in the way that she wants him to love her." Maekar could see that Aelora had developed an infatuation with Aenys. And curse the gods, she was not alone. Despite being much younger than both, his beloved Daella was showing similar signs. He had been blind to it until his wife spoke to him about it.
It made Maekar uncomfortable. He didn't want to think about what would happen if Aenys suddenly started acting upon the interests of any lady who came his way. He did not want his nephew to let his desires get the better of him like they had with the Unworthy.
Rhaegel seemed remorseful as he looked down. "I thought there might have been a chance between the two of them, but I do not wish to scorn Aenys for his choice. When I think about how happy Alys makes me, I want the same for him."
Maekar placed a hand on his brother's shoulder.
"Then you should keep thinking that way, brother. Father will try to argue against it, and Aenys will need support."
Rhaegel grimaced as he raised his head. "Yes. Father…..that will be something else to look forward to, no?"
If Maekar didn't know any better, he would start thinking his older brother was becoming a jester.
"Let's just ensure that the Red Keep doesn't burn down by the end of this, alright?"
Rhaegel merely nodded enthusiastically again.
The sight caused Maekar to smile a little as he felt some of his tension leave him.
Sometimes it was nice to be reminded of the more simple things, such as his brother's love.
---
The training yard of the Red Keep was filled with noise and movement as Valarr parried the multiple sword swings that came his way. The one he faced was none other than the famous Ser Quentyn Ball, the master-at-arms of the Red Keep. The knight had a rather famous reputation for training Daemon Blackfyre and Aegor "Bittersteel" Rivers along with Prince Baelor and Prince Maekar. The four men were now regarded as some of the best knights in the realm, with Daemon being heralded as the Warrior in human flesh.
For Valarr, it was a great honor to be taught by the knight even if he was now an older man. He certainly didn't act like it with how swift and precise his movements were. If Valarr didn't keep all his focus on the practice duel, then he was certain that he would lose.
Valarr wore his practice armor for the occasion to try and simulate the weight of his full armor. His father reassured him that it would not be long before he was knighted, something which he was looking forward to.
If only Aenys hadn't beaten him yet again and been knighted before him. Sometimes Valarr wondered if he was cursed to live at the same time as someone like Aenys who seemed to be favored by the gods.
It certainly did not feel fair.
Ah, but he was letting his thoughts get away from him. He had to keep his attention on the duel, did he not?
If only it were so simple.
Despite knowing that he had to maintain his focus on his practice, Valarr found his eyes betraying him as they strayed toward one of the archways overlooking the training yard where several figures were standing.
Calla Blackfyre and her sisters.
The Blackfyres had rode into the city the day prior. Something about Ser Aegor returning from the east and wanting to meet with him. Valarr didn't know the full extent of the bastard's activities in Essos, but it sounded like a flimsy excuse for the Blackfyres to come strolling into the city, especially since Daemon brought his entire family with him.
Valarr was not going to complain, though. Not when he was able to see Calla and her sisters again. Daena and Daenerys Blackfyre were their names, and they too had inherited the Valyrian beauty of their family. The features that Valarr mostly lacked much to his private annoyance.
As luck would have it, the three sisters remained unwed with no betrothals in sight. Their elder brothers, Aegon and Aemon Blackfyre, were already betrothed to the daughters of powerful magisters from Lys if the rumors were to be believed. It was a surprising match for the mostly isolated house of the black dragon. Many thought that Daemon Blackfyre would use his children to build powerful alliances in Westeros to strengthen support for his political ambitions, not seek connections in the east that would be mostly useless for him given his own marriage.
Valarr did not care much for the political intricacies of the two sons' marriages. No, what interested Valarr was the possibility of marrying one of the sisters himself.
It would make sense, right? To tie the black and the red dragon together. It would further solidify his father's claim to the throne and bind the Blackfyres to them through marriage. Valarr did not know if the idea had been discussed between his father and grandfather, and he didn't have the courage to speak up about it. Not when his grandfather was the king. Valarr didn't have the authority to question either of them.
But the desire was there. The three of them were beautiful with their long silver-blond Valyrian locks, purple eyes, and fair skin. Certainly he would prefer Calla as she was the closest to him in age, but he would not be angry if it was Daena or Daenerys either.
"You're distracted, Prince Valarr."
Ser Quentyn's voice was the only warning Valarr received before his tourney sword was swatted from his hands by a well-timed strike from the knight.
Valarr looked embarrassed as the wooden tip of the knight's sword found its way to his neck, marking his defeat. His embarrassment only grew when he heard the three sisters giggling from where they were watching. There were also Daemon the Younger and Haegon who were also practicing nearby and were now chuckling when they saw how easily he was disarmed.
"I know a pretty face can cause a man to lose focus, but in the face of a duel, even a practice one, such distractions can cause one's life to end," Ser Quentyn scolded him. "You would suffer tremendously if this were real and someone from the stands caught your fancy. Be thankful that I was not more unapologetic with my strikes."
So the knight noticed then.
"Yes, I noticed." Ser Quentyn retracted his sword as Valarr gawked at him. "And no, I am not reading your mind, Prince Valarr. You may find it hard to believe now, but I was a young man once too. I know how easily one can lose focus at your age when shown a pretty face."
At least the knight wasn't going to scold him too much over it.
"My apologies, ser." Valarr was sincere with his words. "It will not happen again. I swear it."
Ser Quentyn raised one of his red eyebrows. "You should not make promises that you cannot keep, my prince. But no matter. We have been practicing for some time now. Perhaps a break might do you some good."
Valarr wanted to keep going, to try and redeem himself, but he accepted the knight's suggestion all the same.
He briefly glanced toward the archway again where the Blackfyre sisters stood as he made his way to get some water from one of the servants. They were whispering among themselves, but he was too far to hear any of it.
"Would you look at that, brother? I daresay our sisters have an admirer."
Valarr paused when he found Daemon and Haegon approaching him, the former of the two being the one who spoke. The two young Blackfyres wore practice armor of their own. The two had the classical Valyrian look, with Daemon's purple eyes being more dark, but regardless it was said that Daemon was the most handsome of all the brothers. Out of the two, Valarr found Haegon to be more honorable and approachable. It was not saying much, though. He had not met the two often.
"The dear prince would not be the first, but I fear his efforts will be in vain," Daemon added as he placed his practice sword in front of him and leaned on it, his face taunting. "Their hearts are already spoken for. It has caused many lords and knights to cry in anguish over the years once they discovered this truth for themselves."
Haegon shot Daemon an exasperated look. "You love hearing your own voice too much, brother."
"I merely enjoy the finer things in life." Daemon's lips curled into a smile. "Such as our distant cousin Aenys. A fine prince that one. What I would not give to stand beside him."
Valarr looked uncomfortable at the wistful tone in Daemon's voice as he said this.
Haegon's eyes narrowed. "Careful with your words, brother. This is not our keep."
"Don't worry about it, Haegon." Daemon smirked as he looked at Valarr. "I'm sure our dear cousin here will not tell a soul about our jests. We're a happy family, are we not?"
"Family." The word left Valarr's lips before he could stop it. He shifted uncomfortably. "Of course. That is true."
His voice betrayed his uncertainty.
"Oh?" Daemon cocked his head, bemused. "Do you not think so, Prince Valarr?"
Valarr tried to maintain his composure. "Your father and my grandfather are brothers, so of course I wish to maintain that bond."
"You wish to marry one of our sisters, you mean." Daemon said with obvious amusement.
Valarr had to stop himself from frowning. He knew that Daemon was taunting him, but he was becoming frustrated by his attitude.
"It would be a good match, would it not? One of your sisters would become queen. And it would show the realm that there is peace between our houses."
"Sure, that's one way to look at it." Daemon leaned in closer to him. "But between you and me, as family, let me give you some advice, cousin. Try to find your happiness elsewhere. And you should be quick about it. Otherwise, you might find yourself lamenting all the mistakes that you've made when it's already too late."
"What-"
"Enough from you." Despite being the younger one, Haegon shoved Daemon back, which just caused him to laugh. "Don't take anything he says to heart, Prince Valarr. My brother has a nasty habit of trying to pretend that he can see more than he is able to."
Valarr didn't understand. "See more? What-"
"I was trying to be helpful!" Daemon said with a round of chuckles as he started walking back to where he had been practicing. "I'm a nicer guy than you give me credit for, brother!"
Haegon sighed as he shook his head. "Forgive him. I'll try to make sure that he doesn't play other pranks while we're here." Before walking to join his brother, Haegon paused for a moment and said, "One word of advice: our sisters are very headstrong. I would not approach them without a plan if I were you."
With those parting words, Haegon walked off.
Valarr frowned as he watched the two brothers begin another round of practice between themselves.
He still didn't know why they had approached him in the first place.
---
Calla had not come out to the practice yard to watch Valarr Targaryen train. She held no interest in the so-called prince. However, her time in the godswood had been rather boring, even if her mother was having the time of her life as she socialized with the ladies of the court. Her mother often complained that she had no one to talk to in their keep, so she relished the opportunities when she was able to mingle with other ladies.
Her other brothers, Aegon, Aemon, and Aenys, were all gallivanting about in the Red Keep to entertain themselves. Her two eldest brothers in particular did not want to be around Daemon and so avoided coming to the training yard. The youngest in their family, Aegor and Maelys, remained at their mother's side, too young to go out on their own.
They were all disappointed when they learned that Prince Aenys was currently not in the castle or in the city. Aegon, Aemon, and Daemon had become particularly jealous when they discovered that their distant cousin had gone to the Vale in order to subjugate the mountain clans that were acting up again. That jealousy turned to wonder when they later learned that the prince had managed to end the battle all by himself. He and his dragon had burned thousands of those savages, or so the king had reported to the small council.
It still made Calla's heart beat with anticipation the more she thought about it. A part of her wished that she could have seen Aenys riding his dragon into battle with her own eyes, but she was not foolish enough to believe that she could survive such an ordeal.
Out of all her brothers, it was said that Daemon resembled their father the most. A wonderful coincidence then that he shared their father's name.
Calla knew the truth, though. While Daemon possessed some skill with the sword, and she was being generous, he was not the great warrior that their father was. Aegon and Aemon were more skilled than he, which they often taunted him about when they were younger, but even they lacked the same raw talent that their father possessed.
What Calla wanted to see was whether Aenys could measure up to the talents of her father. It was a question that was also on her sisters' mind.
"Prince Valarr does not seem all that impressive." Daena's tone was dismissive as she took one last glance at said prince before they started walking back inside the halls of the castle.
Her sister had seemed to inherit more than just the name of their grandmother, for she had a similar wild spirit that Daena the Defiant was said to have had. Much like Calla's hair, Daena possessed thick but also curly silver-gold hair. Many said that her purple eyes sparkled more than Calla's, especially when she went out horse riding with their father and brothers.
"I think you're being too harsh on the prince," Daenerys said softly. The youngest of the three, she was the most slender but that might just be because she was still young. She had yet to reach her first decade, after all. She possessed deep violet eyes and kept her silver-gold hair braided and pulled back as opposed to how Calla and Daena maintained theirs.
The three of them wore black dresses in honor of the black dragon that they represented.
"Not many can compare to father," Daenerys added as they walked the halls of the Red Keep.
They did not have a destination in mind. They had already seen most of the castle, and so there was little to spark their curiosity. Along the way, they attracted the attention of the guards and the servants who they walked past. Calla was used to receiving such looks. Looks filled with interest and desire. She knew that Daenerys hated them, but her sister had become tougher lately, especially when their father told her what he expected of them.
Daena looked disgruntled. "He looks too much like his father."
'Too Dornish,' is what she meant, but it went unsaid. As wild as Daena could be, she knew that the Red Keep was full of Dornish sympathizers. You could never know who was listening when you spoke in these halls.
"And to think mother was open to the idea of one of us marrying him," Daena complained.
Calla let out a sigh. "You know mother meant nothing by it. She thought it would make one of us the queen one day."
Daena scoffed. "What's a throne to a dragon?"
Calla glanced at her, making sure to keep her voice soft. "You're still too young to be speaking like that."
Calla knew that she had been more outspoken when she was younger, but Daena was even more blunt than she had ever been.
Daena made her desires known very early on, that she only desired another Valyrian for a husband. And to her, there was one in their family who fit that description the best. The only one who rode a dragon.
It was so bad that Daena had once made a jest that she "was born to ride that dragon."
Daenerys had been aghast at Daena's crassness while Calla had been more resigned by her younger sister's attitude.
It was a terrible thing to know that your sister desired the same man as you. Calla liked to tell herself that she was not a jealous person, especially since there was nothing but friendship between her and Aenys. Well, not yet. Regardless, she had no reason to get angry at her sister when nothing had happened between her and Aenys.
The main reason for their visit was to change that, especially now that both she and Aenys were growing older and thus had more freedom, but his absence was ill-timed. Aenys went on frequent flights with his dragon, so sometimes it was difficult to know when he was leaving the city rather than just going for a quick flight around the Blackwater Bay.
The news of Aenys' victory in the Vale had given his father another idea, however, and so their time in the Red Keep was extended.
Hopefully Aenys returned soon. They had not seen each other in some moons. It would be nice to hug him again.
And perhaps more.
---
Aegor did not very much like the feel of King's Landing. Every time he returned to the city, to the Red Keep, he was reminded of the fact that Daeron sat the throne, a throne which did not belong to him. It was why he preferred to leave the city every time he sailed back to Westeros, only this time Daemon had written to him to stay.
Aegor did not question it.
Despite the truth that so many in the realm were eager to forget about, that Daeron was a bastard who did not deserve to sit the Iron Throne, Aegor was forced to swallow his frustrations as he rode into the Red Keep from the harbor.
He had just returned from one of his many trips to Essos. Sometimes it was under the orders of Daemon, such as when he traveled to Lys to secure matches for the twins. Other times it was for Aegor to establish his own contacts in the courts of the Free Cities. For years he had been working to secure his own sellsword company in the war-torn lands of the east where war was the currency of the day.
Westeros was too quiet for his comfort. Aegor understood conflict well enough. He did not feel comfortable in the monotony that was the false reign of Daeron. Even if Daemon was happy to sit idly and twiddle his thumbs, Aegor had ways of advancing their desires through his own means.
There was no one to greet him at the courtyard of the Red Keep, but Aegor was not expecting an audience. He had not given word of his arrival, preferring to not show his face to Daeron until he was better rested. Sailing from Tyrosh to the capital was always tiresome no matter how many times he did it. Thankfully, knowing Daemon, he had already taken care of his accommodations.
Sure enough, the guards had been informed of his arrival and let him through.
As he dismounted from his horse and made his way inside the halls of the Red Keep, Aegor was met with the whispers of the servant. Not about him, but about a name which he had come to detest more and more. Perhaps more than he loathed Brynden and that whore who birthed him.
Aenys Targaryen.
The damned boy who stole Shiera's attention away from him for reasons he still could not understand. When they were younger, Aegor feared that it was Brynden who would try to get in the way of their love. Imagine his surprise when the freak was rejected too, and all because of a mere boy.
The shame still followed him to this day.
The servants were fervent with their gossip as they talked about a battle that had taken place in the Vale, a battle which Aenys put an end to by his lonesome with the aid of his dragon.
Aegor wanted to scoff. Winning battles with dragons were easy. It required no skill. Deep down, he knew the truth, though.
He was jealous, and he was bitter.
Much like Daemon, Aegor never got the chance to have a dragon's egg. There were many which still resided in the Red Keep from the days when the Dragonpit was still active. There were more still on Dragonstone. All of them remained petrified. Relics. Symbols. Useless.
Or were they?
'If we could have one of those eggs, then perhaps….'
Aegor silently cursed as the thought entered his mind. It was not the first time that he suggested to Daemon that they should steal some of the dragon eggs for themselves, to see if any of his children would be able to hatch one of them like Aenys had been able to. Aegor had shared many ideas with his brother over the years.
Daemon had not listened to any of them.
It irked Aegor to see Daemon not take action. It irked him more to know that he hoped to tie one or all of his daughters to Aenys, to unite the two lines. Why Daemon thought he had to play second place to a mere boy was beyond Aegor's imagination.
"You let your jealousy blind you, brother," Daemon had said to him once. "I would rather not incur the wrath of our sister if I can help it. In this matter, she will not remain idle."
Daemon was wary of Shiera. That much was certain.
Aegor was not wholly ignorant like so many other lords. He knew the stories that surrounded his beautiful sister. He did not know how accurate all of them were. She kept her secrets close to her, but he was vaguely aware that she possessed abilities that could not be explained with rational thinking. It was why he had frozen when she first threatened him all those years ago, because a part of him knew that she could carry out her threat.
Another shameful moment he would admit.
Still, even with Shiera protecting Aenys, there was certainly something more that they could do, right?
Aegor felt tired, both from excessively thinking about the status quo they were in and from his voyage.
'I need rest.'
Perhaps a fresh perspective would do him well. He had been working hard in Essos. It had been a while since he allowed himself to truly rest.
And yet, before he could reach his destination, his path was blocked by none other than Daemon who smiled when he saw him.
"Brother! I knew you would be arriving soon."
Daemon happily embraced him, which Aegor returned albeit a bit more stiffly.
"Brother. I see you're doing well."
"And you look tired. Come. Daeron was gracious enough to prepare a room for you in the royal apartments."
How kind of him.
Aegor followed Daemon to his chambers.
"You were waiting for me."
"Your letter said you would be arriving today if the weather proved favorable. It seems it has."
Yes. Aegor could not complain about that.
He tossed his cloak to the side and removed his sword. He took the time to study Daemon's demeanor. His brother seemed to be in a good mood as he made himself comfortable in one of the chairs.
"What have I missed since my departure?"
"Not much, I admit." Daemon poured himself a drink of the wine. "The first few moons were terribly dull. There have been no exciting tourneys in a while, but that will soon change I suspect."
"Oh?" Despite himself, Aegor was interested. It had been a while since he last jousted. It would be good to test his skills against the new knights of the realm.
"Yes. There were two conflicts of note that sprang up right after you left. One of them was in Dorne. Another fool who thought to proclaim himself the Vulture King."
Aegor wanted to laugh, not out of amusement per se. More like satisfaction. "How many so-called Vulture Kings have there been now?"
Daemon chuckled as he began to pour wine in a second cup. "I admit, I have lost track."
"So much for the good word of the Dornish," Aegor sneered, not all surprised that a Dornishman would rise in rebellion once more. You could not trust them.
"Yes, I must admit that I had a similar reaction," Daemon said. "Our brother acted swiftly, however. He got in touch with Lord Dondarrion who put a quick end to the so-called king. He and Lord Caron performed well and burned the traitors from their hideout in the mountains."
Aegor grunted as he joined Daemon who handed him one of the cups of wine.
"I wish I could have joined them."
Killing Dornishmen sounded like a missed opportunity. Aegor did not hold a particular distaste for the southern kingdom as some others in the realm, but neither did he like them all that much either. He especially did not like the Martells or the Wyls. He might have been born a bastard, but he still carried the blood of the Targaryens in his veins. His eyes were proof enough. The treason they committed against the Young Dragon was an unforgivable act that had gone unpunished.
If only King Daeron I had realized the fool that his younger brother had grown up to be, then perhaps he might have removed him from the line of succession. Then the traitors might have been punished for their crimes rather than rewarded.
Daemon took a sip from the wine before speaking. "Perhaps, but perhaps not. For the more interesting battle took place in the Vale of all places."
Aegor's mood soured again. "So I've heard."
"I'm not surprised. The Red Keep has been talking nonstop about it. Maekar painted a vivid description of the events. Lord Arryn expressed his thanks in a subsequent letter and corroborated what Maekar reported." Daemon's eyes seemed to burn with excitement. "A dragon burned thousands all by its lonesome. Aenys was able to single-handedly win the war. That is the power that the realm had started to forget. Now they will know that it has returned, and they will fear our blood once again."
Aegor could see where Daemon's imagination was taking him.
"And you will tie yourself to Aenys through your daughters."
Daemon looked at him. "We are Valyrians, brother. And Aenys is too valuable to be shackled by the conventions of the Andals. I will not allow it. My father once promised me a second bride. I will guarantee the same for Aenys." Daemon then chuckled. "Not that I will have to meddle much. My daughters have expressed their approval of the match."
"Will they allow themselves to be second place?" Aegor wondered. It caused his heart great pain to imagine Shiera at Aenys' side, but his sister had made her choice. Aegor did not want to give up, but he knew that Shiera was probably first in the boy's heart.
"I have made them understand the necessity of the situation," Daemon replied, his voice shifting. It became more resolute. "Aenys will be king, brother. The realm is clamoring for it. Daeron and Baelor can try to delude themselves, but I will ensure that my blood has a place in that future. The upcoming tourney will prove it."
"Tourney?" Aegor echoed.
"Ah, yes. I have convinced our brother to host a tourney in King's Landing. To celebrate the two victories."
Aegor's mind changed. "So Aenys-"
"He has been knighted by Maekar following his victory," Daemon informed him with a smile, no doubt knowing what he was already thinking. "I have seen him perform in the yard before, but I do not know how much he has progressed yet. This will prove to the realm that he has both the fire and the skill-at-arms that is required for a true Targaryen king."
Or it could be a chance for Aegor to embarrass the boy. Daemon would not approve, but his brother was not stopping him either. Did Daemon think that he could not best a boy of five and ten?
Aegor internally bristled but on the outside he maintained his composure.
Whatever. He had the perfect stage to finally achieve one of his desires. He would prove that he was the better warrior to both the realm and Shiera.
The two brothers raised their cups.
"To our yearnings."
They drank.