Daeron had not yet ruled for even a decade, but despite that he still felt as though he had donned the crown for far longer than seven years.
His father had left the realm in such a miserable state that Daeron was forced to put out the fires before they consumed him and the throne entirely. Daeron had made a lot of enemies during his tenure as king because of it. Many lords had come to despise him because he took away their power and privileges in the capital. They were men who were just as corrupt as his father had been. Men who did not need to be in any positions of power, for all they did was poison everything that they touched.
Daeron did not need such opportunistic lords in his court.
It took a few years, but Daeron was finally able to breathe a little easier while inside the Red Keep. Not that it was still unchallenged. Far from it. His father had done a lot to erode the image of the throne, wielding his authority as king like a toy in order to sate his own base desires.
Sometimes Daeron wondered if any other king had had to put up with as much nonsense as he had during his father's reign.
Well, for all of his father's faults, he never caused a civil war during his reign. Nor did he cause any major uprisings. There was that one positive that Daeron could grant the man, for what it was worth.
Sadly, there was little else that Daeron could say that was kind about his father.
There were treacherous moments when Daeron wondered if Aemon had truly been his father. As much as he hated thinking about it, a part of Daeron might actually be glad if that were the case. He might actually take comfort in the fact that his real father had been an honorable man, one of the best knights to ever be produced in their family. His mother always told him that it was not true, but years of mockery and doubt had caused Daeron to have false thoughts in times of weakness.
Why was he thinking of this right now?
Because of his newly born grandson, Aenys Targaryen. His birth had caused some commotion in Daeron's court and in some parts of the realm.
The child was the very picture of a Targaryen prince. He was only a few months old, and yet his features were plain for all to see: silver-blond hair and lilac colored eyes. It was a heavy contrast to his two other grandsons, Valarr and the younger Daeron. After Aenys' safe birth was announced and his features were known, the whispers in King's Landing and the Crownlands that Aenys was more fit a prince than either of his two other grandsons on appearance alone were quick to spring up. Daeron knew why this was the case. His marriage with Myriah was still scorned by many. While the Marcher lords held the most animosity toward him and Baelor, they were not the only ones who felt discomfort at the fact that their future king was more Dornish than Targaryen. This was despite the fact that his heir was a respectable man and a formidable knight in his own right. No, his features were enough for many of the lords to mock him and consider him an outsider. Now, many were uttering similar words about Valarr and Aenys. The same troubles that had been plaguing him seemed to be trickling down to the next generation.
It was still early in the morning, and he already had a headache. Every time his mind went down this path it ended this way.
It did not help that it wasn't just his son and grandsons that he had to worry about. His father's final act in legitimizing all of his half-siblings had left Daeron with quite the cleanup act to deal with. He had tried to compromise as best he could, honoring past promises and maintaining a cordial relationship with his half-siblings. He even allowed for Blackfyre to remain out of his hands.
Why did it feel like it was all for naught?
His half-brother Daemon had become considerably more distant and standoffish toward him. A part of the reason was because of Daeron's sister, Daenerys, and her marriage to the Prince of Dorne. In their earlier years, it was true that Daemon and Daenerys had harbored certain feelings for one another. No one in court could have missed it. Unfortunately, the political reality demanded that they were never meant to be. For all of Daemon's might, he had still been but a bastard. If their father had harbored any intent on ever marrying them together, then Daeron was unaware of it. He doubted it, given Daemon's own betrothal, and the reality was that no man could have more than one wife.
Daenerys herself had written to him that she was happy in Dorne, so whatever feelings might have existed between the two surely could no longer be as powerful as before, right? Or perhaps he was trying to console himself of the reality of things, to not accept that he might have angered his half-brother with his decision to wed Daenerys to the Martells.
Daeron and Daemon had never been close. They were respectful, to a degree, but beyond that they held no deep bond as brothers. And yet, it appeared that they were still growing distant as time went on.
Sometimes Daeron felt like he was older than he really was. Trying to rule a whole continent while your own family did not love you was a heavy burden to bear.
Despite all these thoughts plaguing his mind, Daeron tried to remain optimistic as he shared breakfast with his family that morning. His wife was in good spirits after seeing her grandsons the day before. All three were growing healthy and strong. For all the negativity which surrounded his family, Daeron was at least thankful for that.
'Hmm, perhaps they should start sleeping in the same room together.'
Despite being the Prince of Dragonstone, Baelor spent much of his time in the capital, which included his family. So the three children were already in the Red Keep more often than not. It might help the three bond. At least, it couldn't hurt. Politics aside, they were his grandsons. And Daeron wanted nothing but the best for them.
Well, Valarr was already two, so perhaps it would be more difficult for him to adjust in comparison.
Daeron had also decided to grant Summerhall to Maekar, so eventually his youngest son would have to return to the palace to attend to his duties. Still, there was no reason for the young Daeron to not spend time with his new cousin.
He would speak of it later, but Daeron doubted either Baelor or Maekar would disagree with the idea. Aerys….well, he probably would not care. After seeing Aenys the night he was born, he had not visited his son even once.
Daeron pitied Aelinor. Aerys was the opposite of Aegon IV in his base desires, but perhaps such neglect was just as painful.
The king tried to not let these thoughts continue to fester as he enjoyed his breakfast.
Baelor and Maekar were in the middle of a discussion while their wives shared their own talk between themselves. Rhaegel was answering a question from Myriah with his usual soft tone.
For a moment, everything was peaceful inside the mind of King Daeron. He knew he would have to face the small council after breakfast, so he wanted this momentary peace to last.
And yet, as the doors were shoved open and one of the servants came running into the room, frantic and panting, Daeron realized that he might have been asking for too much.
---
Aelinor's chamber was filled with noise. By the time Daeron reached the room, many servants were standing around outside in the hall, trying to get a look inside. Aelinor's guards were keeping them from entering the room, but they parted ways when Daeron and his family arrived with the Kingsguard.
'It cannot be.'
Daeron's mind was muddled with many thoughts along the way. The panicked servant had uttered one word that sent him and his sons, along with their wives, into a frenzy.
Dragon.
Daeron did not know what to think at first. Why would one of the servants be talking about dragons of all things? To even interrupt his family's breakfast as well. Thankfully Baelor was calm enough to ask the servant what he was talking about.
The young man had fumbled many of his words, still panicked, but he was coherent enough for Daeron and his family to understand one thing: a dragon egg had hatched. Specifically, Aenys' dragon egg.
Needless to say, Daeron was baffled.
Just....how? Princess Elaena had been kind enough to gift her egg to Aenys rather than to pass it down to either of her sons, but her egg had long since turned to stone. It was true for all the other eggs. They were priceless artifacts of a bygone era, but beyond that they were functionally worthless.
So how? How had an egg hatched? More than that, why had Aenys' egg hatched? Why not Valarr's? The thought came to him involuntarily, but he was already thinking of the repercussions for the future if this turned out to be true.
A part of Daeron wanted to believe that it wasn't. The dragons had been powerful, but they had also driven his family to almost destroy itself. What would the future hold if they returned? What would it mean for his family? For the realm?
For Aenys?
These thoughts and many more swarmed his head like ants that would not stop. But as he stepped into Aelinor's chamber, Daeron, along with his family, saw the truth of the situation.
Aelinor was seated by the bed, still wearing her nighttime gown an rocking a sleeping Aenys in her arms. This would normally be a heartwarming scene between mother and son, yet it was nothing like that. For Aelinor was trembling, her eyes darting up every so often to the creature that was resting on top of her head.
The creature was small, no bigger than a small cat. It was white or silver, or perhaps a blend of the two in color. There were streaks of gold in its body, and when its eyes turned to Daeron he saw that they were a splendid gold color.
Despite its small size, it was a beautiful and majestic creature, so much so that Daeron froze in his tracks.
There was no mistaking it. The creature in front of him was without a doubt a baby dragon.
Daeron heard the gasps from his wife and his sons' wives. Baelor and Maekar looked stunned while Rhaegel looked at the dragon with great curiosity.
"Impossible," Baelor muttered, eyes wide. His whole body trembled at the revelation before them.
"Is this a dream?" Maekar shared his brother's reaction. It was the first that his youngest looked so unnerved, and Daeron could not blame him.
Myriah looked like she was on the verge of passing out, her skin turning pale at what she was seeing.
And Daeron? He was rooted in place. It felt as though a thousand years passed before he was finally able to move.
When he was finally able to come to his senses, Daeron realized that he was now facing the biggest hurdle of his reign thus far.
The gods must love testing him so.
---
Aerys enjoyed the peace and quiet of the library.
He did not know when he started to read so much. For as long as he could remember, he always had a book in his hands. To be frank, the world didn't interest him all that much. The Iron Throne did not interest him. It was just so utterly dull. All of it. And yet, the world demanded much from him. He was a prince, after all.
Aerys knew he shouldn't complain as much. The smallfolk had to struggle all their lives just to exist. Compared to them, Aerys knew he was blessed. All of his needs were met, and he had a family that understood him enough to love him.
Perhaps it would have been better if he had been born the second son of some minor lord in the Reach or the Westerlands. Then there would be less expectations for him. At least then he might be able to read more without being bothered.
Then again, if that were the case, Aerys wouldn't have the honor of being blood of the dragon and the power that came with it.
Aerys tried to read as much as he could about his family's history, but after a certain point things become murky.
The Doom for instance. It was filled with so much mystery and dread that Aerys couldn't help but be fascinated by it.
There were other topics that interested him beyond his family's history. Westeros had a rich history of heroes and magic that long predated the Targaryen's arrival. It made Aerys curious about the past. Just what legends were true? And if any of them were true, what did that mean for the realm that his family ruled?
Recently Aerys thought that he got hold of an interesting prophecy, but he had yet to find its origin. It was a text that was written before the Dance. One of his uncles, Brynden, had been helping him with his studies to try and decipher its true meaning. The man was interested in the texts that documented their histories as well. That wasn't all either. Aerys was one of the few people who knew of Brynden's true abilities. Fascinating ones at that. They proved that something like magic still existed in the world even without the dragons.
Unfortunately, Aerys did not have any magical abilities of his own. Even though he had the blood of the Rhoynar in him too.
Magic seemed to be so fickle these days.
With the kind of person that he was, Aerys had little interest in marriage or any other such basic desires. He had only married because he had been forced to do so by his father, because he was a prince. It was expected of him. Honestly, Aerys felt that he had made the best out of a bad situation. If he had to marry, then Aelinor was a good choice. The woman left him alone and didn't expect anything from him. They were husband and wife, but they lived separate lives, which suited Aerys just fine. He'd heard how troublesome women could be, but Aelinor wasn't like that.
Small miracle.
And yet, a terrible "prank" had been pulled on him, all because the troublesome brat known as Shiera found him boring.
What did that even mean?! Was he supposed to entertain her or something? Was that his purpose in life?
Kids. They made no sense to Aerys. He had no desire to ever become a parent. It would just be another distraction that he did not care for. Thankfully there was no urgent need for him to do so. Not when he had brothers to do it for him.
And yet, that awful prank had more dreaded consequences than Aerys could have imagined, for now he was the father of a son that he did not want. He named him out of courtesy, to repay Aelinor for her useful attitude in their so-called marriage.
It was not a hassle that Aerys wanted. It was why he had not bothered to see the child again. Aelinor could take care of him. From what little Aerys bothered to hear, his wife had always wanted to be a mother. At least now she had a child to pour her attention into, so there was little reason for her to ever bother him about it.
Honestly, in some ways, the awful prank had saved Aerys. He couldn't remember much of that night. He didn't know what compelled him to visit Aelinor in the first place. A random maid could have done the job with the way that he had been feeling. Perhaps his mind had subconsciously accepted her as the only one acceptable. Regardless of the reason, Aerys now had a proper son. He was not a bastard but a proper prince. His father had no reason to lecture him anymore. Aerys had done his duty. The Stormlander lords would surely be pleased that another prince shared their blood.
And all it cost him was a few hours of distorted memories.
It was not a bad deal.
Yes, this past year had been more than a little blissful for Aerys as the attention shifted from him to his pregnant wife and then to his son. He spent more time in the library, as this was his sanctuary.
Today was no different. He woke up under another pile of books, having read through the night. He had his breakfast brought to him at the library so that he could continue where he left off rather than be forced to make small talk with his family.
'Oh yes, I forget. I need to bathe.'
Another waste of time. Like having to constantly change clothes. It was not as though he sweated in them. There was no need to wear a new outfit every day. Such a hassle.
Aerys was in the middle of finishing his breakfast when one of the Kingsguard walked into the library, his face more serious than Aerys had ever seen. But perhaps this was just him misremembering. It was not as though he could even remember the knight's name, so he wouldn't know how the man typically looked. Aerys vaguely remembered that the Lord Commander was really old. It probably wouldn't be long before he was replaced.
"Prince Aerys. His Grace requests your presence in his solar immediately."
Hm? The tone of voice from the knight gave Aerys pause.
It sounded urgent.
Had Aerys done something wrong?
Just when he thought that he was free too.
Still, he could not ignore the king's summon.
So, with a long winded sigh, Aerys got to his feet while casting his books one last glance.
"Very well, Ser. Lead the way."
Hopefully this did not take long.
---
Maekar did not understand what was happening.
He knew much of his house's history. He was a prince, and as such he was duty bound to be informed of the realm's history, which included his family's. More than that, Maekar was honored to belong to a historic house. A house that had transformed Westeros forever.
He loved his family.
Unfortunately, Maekar had been born well after the glory days of the house of the dragon. A brutal civil war had seen the death of most of the dragons, and with it much of their prestige was forever lost.
All the remained of the dragons were their eggs, forever turned to stone. They were no longer hot to the touch as they had once been reported to be. They were lifeless. Relics. A reminder of what the Targaryens once were.
It was embarrassing to admit, but when he was younger Maekar dreamed of finding a dragon for himself. One that would bond to him as they had once done with the Targaryens of old. Unfortunately, that dream never came true. His egg had never hatched, nor had any of his brothers'. He had been blessed to receive an egg for his infant son, Daeron. But that egg remained lifeless like all the rest.
It was a sign. Maekar could not be a dreamer forever. He had live in reality.
When Princess Elaena came to King's Landing some moons ago to gift her dragon egg to Aelinor, he did not think much of it. The egg was beautiful. They all were. Even after their fire diminished, the eggs still retained a certain allure that not even Maekar could deny. And yet, the dragon egg was no different from the others. Beautiful but ultimately useless.
Now, as he stood in the solar with his father and the rest of his family, Maekar felt like a fool.
The same question had been flashing inside his head that would not stop: why? Why Aerys? What made him different? His older brother who was more interested in books than people. His brother who never once showed any interest in Aelinor and yet somehow birthed a son. His brother who was now father to the first dragonrider in their family since Rhaena Targaryen tragically died along with her dragon Morning.
Aenys was now awake and despite the otherwise suffocating atmosphere in the solar the baby was all giggles and smiles as he made faces at the hatchling. The baby dragon for its part was completely focused on Aenys as it chirped in what Maekar could only deduce was happiness. This was despite the fact that poor Aelinor looked like she would faint any moment as the dragon played with her child right in front of her.
They had tried separating the two when they were moving from Aelinor's chamber, but the dragon had not reacted well to that, hissing and biting at any who came near it. Other than Aenys, it only seemed to tolerate Aelinor's presence. Was it because the dragon recognized the woman as Aenys' mother? If so, that was a sign of high intelligence from a dragon so young.
Aelinor had explained to them how she had mustered the courage to remove Aenys from his cradle and away from the dragon, but the hatchling had simply followed her along, always making sure it stayed close to Aenys.
From all of this, one thing was clear: the dragon had bonded to Aenys.
It was just like the stories said. If an egg hatched in the cradle with a Targaryen, then a bond was almost always instantly formed.
Aenys was going to be a dragonrider.
Why? Why him?
Everyone in the solar was still watching Aenys and the baby dragon with open fascination. His mother had recovered from her shock well enough to share some words with Aelinor, but beyond that she looked lost.
Lady Jena Dondarrion held the young Valarr in her lap who was staring at the dragon with amazement. Despite his young age, the boy understood the beauty of what stood before him.
His own wife, Dyanna Dayne, was fascinated by the dragon as she rocked the sleeping Daeron in her arms. Her purple eyes were filled with questions but also elation. No doubt she thought that if Aenys' egg had hatched, then Daeron's might too.
Something told Maekar that it wouldn't be so simple, which just made his stomach flutter with an emotion that he was struggling to place. Or perhaps he did not want to place it, because if he did then he might start to resent his older brother.
For what reason? Maekar did not know, and that annoyed him. It was unreasonable, but he could not deny his feelings either. He did not know what made Aerys different from him, and it frustrated him.
Baelor was keeping his composure, but surely his brother was feeling something deep inside too, right? It could not just be Maekar who was possibly jealous of Aerys for what was currently happening.
Rhaegel....well, his other brother just looked happy to see the dragon. But he was always like that, always simple and direct, and Maekar loved his brother for it.
As these thoughts raced through Maekar's mind, Aerys finally made his presence known as he was led into the solar by Ser Alyn Connington, one of the Kingsguard.
Daeron was quick to dismiss the knight who took a second to once again admire the dragon before taking his leave.
It was Aerys' reaction that Maekar was more interested in.
When Aerys first walked in, he had the same detached expression as always. Like nothing mattered. It was clear that he did not initially see his son with the dragon.
It did not last.
Even someone like Aerys who was always stuck inside his head looked shocked when his eyes finally landed on the dragon in the middle of the room. It was almost comical. Maekar had never before seen his brother's eyes widened to such a large degree.
The shocked Aerys uttered but one word.
"How?"
The sentiment filled the room.