Author's Note: Vaeraxes won.
Back to the story.
------
Aenys met more people in the week of celebrations for Matarys' birth than he had his whole life.
He did not remember them all to be honest.
There were some faces that stood out to the young boy thanks to the lessons of Maester Erwyn. The bigger houses were the easiest for him.
The Lannisters approached him first. Lord Damon Lannister of Casterly Rock, the so-called Gray Lion, offered Aenys many gifts and even promised him more should he decide to visit the Westerlands one day, as a way to "honor" King Daeron.
Aenys didn't really get it. The celebrations were not for him, but gifts were gifts. He did not want to be rude and not accept them, especially since he wanted them. Among the many gifts was an impressive sword, for "his future" as Lord Damon put it. Aenys wasn't strong enough to hold it properly despite his eagerness to do so. It was not Valyrian steel unfortunately. That he would have to get a different day.
Lord Damon Lannister also introduced Aenys to his son and heir, Tybolt Lannister. The boy was around a year younger than Aenys, so the two hit it off pretty well. They talked many times throughout the week, although it was sometimes difficult because Aenys felt that his vocabulary was better than the young lion's.
Then there was Lord Leo Tyrell of Highgarden, the Longthorn of the Reach. His sons and daughters were all older than Aenys, but it did not stop the lord from having every single one of them introduce themselves to him. He felt uncomfortable whenever one of the daughters got too close to him. Thankfully Shiera was there to support him whenever he needed it. Apart from his mother, Shiera was the one who constantly remained at his side, which he was grateful for. He did not enjoy having his cheeks caressed by strangers.
Lord Edmund Tully of Riverrun paid his respects alongside his heir, Medgar Tully. They were the most distant of the greater houses with their manners, but their respect was genuine.
Aenys finally met Alys' family, the Lord Donnel Arryn of the Eyrie. He also brought his two sons with him, both of whom were much older than Aenys. The Lord of the Eyrie was respectful but not as eager some others.
Another standout for Aenys was the wolf of the North, Lord Brandon Stark of Winterfell. He was the youngest son of the infamous Cregan Stark, the man who took charge of King's Landing following the Dance of the Dragons. How the last son came to be the one to inherit Winterfell was something that interested Aenys. From what the maester told him, it was the firstborn that mattered. What had happened to Brandon's brothers?
Aenys remembered his manners and did not ask despite his curiosity almost killing him.
Brandon was curt and direct. He was also the only lord to ask Aenys about his dragon.
"Vaeraxes is fine," Aenys said. He was always happy to talk about his dragon. "Taller than me already!"
"I see." Brandon's lips twitched, almost forming a half-smile. Despite his age, the man seemed younger at that moment. "I'm pleased to hear that…Vaeraxes is fine. It has been too long since a dragon has been seen in the realm."
"Maybe I'll fly to Winterfell one day."
"The North is ready to welcome you at any time, Prince Aenys," Brandon said as he bowed his head.
Aenys just nodded enthusiastically. First the Westerlands and now the North. Wait, no. Why not the whole realm? He could see it all!
Lord Symeon Baratheon of Storm's End was calm but also eager to greet Aenys throughout the festivities. His son, Lyonel, was a couple years older than Aenys, and he was a loud one. Apart from Lord Stark, Lyonel was one of the few who asked direct questions about Vaeraxes.
"Is it going to get big?"
"Vaeraxes will be the biggest dragon ever! I swear!" Aenys didn't know how he would make the promise come true. He just knew it would happen.
Lyonel seemed enthralled by the prospect. Needless to say, apart from Tybolt, Lyonel became one of his newest friends.
There were other small changes during this week. For one, a knight from his mother's house joined him as his personal guard.
Ser Jon Penrose was his name, and he was young. But he looked strong to Aenys. The knight had short brown hair and light brown eyes.
"Prince Aenys, it is an honor to serve you," the knight greeted him in his chambers one morning. His mother and father watched from the doorway. "You are the pride and joy of house Penrose, and I will protect you with my life."
He was? Aenys hadn't accomplished anything yet, though. Not anything that he could remember.
'Oh, it's because of Vaeraxes.'
Aenys trained hard to say his own dragon's name properly. It would be embarrassing if he couldn't after he named it.
There were times when Aenys forgot that he was the first Targaryen whose egg hatched since the Dance. A healthy dragon, one that would one day take to the skies. It set him apart from everyone else in his family. Because of that, he had to be careful. His mother was always reminding him of this.
Regardless of his initial confusion, Aenys welcomed this distant cousin of his. He would have preferred a Kingsguard, but he wasn't going to complain too much. Ser Jon looked formidable. Perhaps he could teach Aenys some techniques in secret? He knew how much his mother liked to worry, so he couldn't practice in public until he was much older.
He saw Auntie Elaena too. She was very nice, even if she hugged him a lot. Aenys put up with it. It was thanks to her that he had gotten a dragon egg in the first place, and he was conscious enough to forever be grateful to her for it. Plus, she was good friends with his mother. And his mom was the best.
Auntie Daenerys and Uncle Maron also talked to him a lot. Uncle Maron welcomed him to visit Sunspear in the future while Auntie Daenerys said that he should visit the new Water Gardens in Dorne. That too sounded interesting.
What sounded less interesting was how much Uncle Maron tried to get Aenys to spend time with Arianne. The girl was 4-years-old like him, but she was very haughty. It was a word Aenys picked up from his lessons with his father. Now, he finally had a person to use it on. He did not appreciate how smug the girl was about everything. She reminded Aenys of Valarr sometimes. No, she was worse. At least Valarr didn't constantly bring up the fact that he was a prince. He only did it when it came to trying to steal his dragon.
Then there were the host of all the other smaller houses that were hard for Aenys to remember. The Reynes, the Masseys, and the Plumms stood out from the rest. The Reynes was due to the presence of Ser Robb Reyne, who was said to be one of the most formidable knights in the realm. It was another stepping stone for Aenys to aspire to.
Lord Triston Massey had married one of the former bastards of King Aegon IV. Gwenys Rivers. It was a betrothal set up by the Blackwoods. Lord Triston's daughter, Lady Genna Massey, shared the silver-blond hair of her Targaryen mother. It was interesting for Aenys to note this and to contrast it with Valarr and Matarys, who did not look like Targaryens.
Then there was Lord Viserys Plumm. He was a son of Auntie Elaena. Viserys looked just like a Targaryen prince, with his silver locks and purple eyes.
This distant cousin of Aenys paid his respects as did all the other lords, and yet Aenys did not believe him. He didn't know why. He just thought that Viserys was a liar when he said that he was happy to see Aenys.
The ones who made the biggest impact on Aenys were the Blackfyres.
During the first night of feasting, Aenys ended up seated by the Blackfyres.
It was then that Aenys met Daemon Blackfyre for the first time, along with his daughter, Calla Blackfyre.
Daemon Blackfyre was different from all the others Aenys had met. He had a different presence compared to everyone else, to the point that even someone as young as Aenys could pick up on it.
Rather than trying to speak to him for the whole evening, Daemon allowed his daughter to do the talking for him.
"You look just like my father." It was the first thing the girl said to him.
Aenys shook his head. "My mother and grandmother say I look like the Dragonknight."
Aenys practiced hard to say "Dragonknight" correctly for many moons too. It was a good word.
Calla huffed. "Then they're wrong."
"How would you know?"
"Because father is here, and you look like him."
Aenys didn't know how to argue with that.
Maybe he looked like both?
Despite the small disagreement, the two would go on to share many different conversations over the course of the week. She was the first girl his age that Aenys got to know well. She was not like Arianne who got annoying to Aenys very quickly. Calla was more pleasant in comparison.
When the tourney began, Calla bragged about her father as he unhorsed many of the most famous knights in the realm, which included Prince Baelor.
"My father cannot be defeated."
"One day, I will be better."
Calla smiled. "How do you know?"
"I will train."
"But then father will be older. That's not fair."
Aenys did not back down. "That makes you scared."
Calla started to pout. "Why scared?"
"Because I will win."
"If you win, then I'll do something nice for you."
It was vague, but for the four-year-old Aenys it was all the incentive that he needed, which wasn't saying much since he was already determined to become the best fighter in the realm.
Aenys also got to know Calla's brother Haegon. Aegon and Aemon were too old for Aenys to engage them in conversation with, but Haegon was near their age that he joined them many times. Haegon had the silver-blond hair of Old Valyria, but his eyes were his mother's eyes.
Haegon shared not only Aenys' fascination with knighthood but also honor.
"My father says you have to have both," Haegon told Aenys. "That is what makes a true knight. I will try to be like him."
Aenys listened.
'Honor.'
A knight was supposed to live up to that ideal.
His father never talked about it. Aerys wasn't much of a knight, or a fighter in general. His mother was more interested in religion, which didn't wholly appeal to Aenys. He appreciated her lessons about being kind, but that didn't paint the whole picture for him.
Where would he end up?
It was a question that Aenys would ponder for a long time, made only the more difficult for him by the end of the week.
---
"I fear you are not taking this very seriously, sister."
Myriah Martell was annoyed.
As the tourney raged outside in the field in the outskirts of the city, Myriah had remained behind in the Red Keep in order to entertain her brother who had asked for a private meeting with her.
"I know what it is that you want, brother," she snapped back. She might not be the ruler of Dorne, but she was still the older sister. More than that, she was the queen of the Iron Throne. "You have been salivating at the possibility of a betrothal between Aenys and Arianne for four years now."
Her brother had tried being coy when he first brought his children to Dragonstone all those years ago, but his intentions were plain for all to see. Aerys had not denied her brother, but he had not accepted his offer either.
"You must understand the delicate balance we are in right now," Maron continued to rant as he paced before her. "King Daeron has been generous, and our presence in court is strong. But how long will that last when the succession occurs?"
Myriah nearly glowered at her brother.
"What are you trying to imply?"
"Don't be stupid, Myriah. The niceties of court have not dulled your senses. Many in the realm hate us because they could not conquer us. We might have achieved victory, but that victory will be short-lived once Daeron passes if we remain stagnant. The realm stands united in their division with the king, and rather than doing something about it you are happy to stand back and let Aenys become the Blackfyre's pawn."
"You speak too freely, Maron," Myriah said with a glare. "Daemon Blackfyre has always been a threat to my husband's rule. Now, the man returns to court with a friendly face, speaking about a better future. Do you think that Daeron would not accept such an offer?"
"Do you not see the danger in that?"
"Do you not see the danger in your plans?" Myriah retorted. "Do you want Aenys to have the full support of Dorne while Baelor flounders?"
"Both Aenys and Baelor carry our blood." Maron was dismissive. "It's our victory regardless."
Myriah's patience was running thin. "I ask again, brother. What are you trying to imply?"
"That you and Daeron are trying to run away from the truth," Maron answered as he stopped his pacing to glance out the window. In the distance, past the ever active city streets, stood the tourney grounds.
"Do you know what I have witnessed these past few days? All the lords trying to curry favor with Aenys while only acknowledging Baelor when necessary. Baelor has noticed this as well. The lords were divided when Daemon Blackfyre was their symbol. Aenys is different. He's united them all. From the Reach, to the Stormlands, all the way to the North. They're taking notice."
"My sons will not fight one another." Myriah did not believe that it would come to that. That Aerys would try to steal the throne from Baelor, it was unthinkable.
"There are many ways to go about it, sister," Maron said, softer this time. "If not on the battlefield, then through counsel. Once, the Old King called for a Great Council, did he not? To decide upon the next king."
"That was different. The succession was not clear. Baelor lives. He is Daeron's firstborn." Myriah would not entertain the notion.
"He lives without a dragon." Maron looked at her with pity. "And he lives with our image. The realm does not accept us. We're still foreigners, and Baelor represents that hatred for them. Daemon Blackfyre threatened to usurp the status quo, but Aenys is different. Many will say that he is the true heir."
Myriah didn't know what to say. Her thoughts were racing. She wanted to throw many words at her brother right now, to deny all of this, but the words did not come out.
"Daeron must understand this, so why is he so eager to pair the boy with Daemon Blackfyre's brood?"
"For peace," Myriah answered, sighing. "You are letting your ambitions cloud your judgment, Maron. No betrothal has been mentioned. No request to have Aenys study under Daemon. Just children talking with one another." Her glare then returned. "And if you truly believe what you say, why try to pair Arianne with Aenys? Why align yourself with one side? You would just make the situation worse. You have already spat on Baelor's honor once. I won't let you do it a second time."
"Because I'm the Prince of Dorne," Maron answered without hesitation. "I cannot allow the dragon's fire to be turned and aimed at us. Our influence in court must remain."
"Aenys would not hurt his family."
"He's young and still malleable. He can be dyed in any color."
"He's my grandson." Myriah stood up as her glare intensified. "Good luck trying to convince Aerys and Aelinor to go along with your wishes. I will not be your pawn in your ambitions."
Myriah spat the words at her brother before storming out.
One of the Kingsguard was waiting for her outside in the hall, but she did not wait for him as she hurried away from the room.
Her mind continued to race. Myriah never imagined that she would ever be put into a position where she was forced to choose between one of her children and a beloved grandson. She did not see Aenys as much as she would like, but every time she did she was reminded of the kind boy that he was.
But another side of her whispered in her mind, of the future where that was no longer the case. Of a future where Aenys did turn on Baelor and Valarr and took the throne for himself. She doubted anyone would try to stop him, for she had seen the truth for herself these past few days.
'How could they. How could they think about trying to usurp Baelor?'
The Lannisters, the Baratheons, the Tyrells. The Starks with their honeyed words. Their words of loyalty meant nothing. She had seen their treachery firsthand.
But what could Myriah do? She was the queen, but she was forced to realize that in this she was powerless. She could struggle all she wanted, but then what?
The machinations of the realm would continue to spin, with or without her.
---
Every time Shiera joined these big festive events, there was always a race to see who could spend the most amount of time with her.
This week was no different.
Many had tried to catch her attention. She only gave them enough of her time to keep them on edge. It was more fun this way.
Despite the cause of celebrations being the birth of Baelor's son, the young Matarys Targaryen was largely forgotten by the realm. Shiera got to see for herself just how much this gnawed at Jena, especially when Lord Baratheon was more enthusiastic about speaking to Aenys than he was about trading greetings with Valarr.
'It's all a dance.'
Such an exciting time in court. It was almost as if everyone knew what the other was thinking, but rather than saying anything about it they all danced around the issue. It did not stop everyone from making moves in view of the others. No one missed how each mayor house introduced themselves to Aenys over the course of the week. Without even trying, Aenys scored himself two very powerful friendships with the heirs of Storm's End and Casterly Rock.
If only the Ironborn had shown their face, then the set would be complete.
"You don't have to look so smug, you know."
During the jousting tournament, Shiera was confronted by Princess Daenerys. The two of them sat together in the royal box alongside the other members of the royal family.
King Daeron had also allowed for Daemon and his family to join them, a gesture that was not missed by any. The queen's absence was also noted, as was Maron Martell's.
Aenys was talking enthusiastically with Calla Blackfyre and Daeron about something while little Aerion tried to catch Aenys' attention every so often.
It was an amusing sight. All of them were children, wholly unaware of the machinations around them.
That would not last for long.
Shiera glanced at Daenerys. "I do not know what you mean."
"Don't try to be coy, Shiera. You've always enjoyed the chaos of court. The attention. Today is no different."
"Hm." Shiera gave a noncommittal hum in response.
Daenerys did not let that stop her as she asked, "So tell me. What is your fascination with my great-nephew?"
She was trying to use familial ties to try and justify her interest? How devious.
"I'm surprised you're talking to me at all," Shiera replied, not answering her question. "After your marriage, you essentially distanced yourself from the rest of us."
There was a time, before Daenerys' marriage, that Shiera was close to the princess. But after a while, they sort of just drifted apart. It was not on bad terms, at least not from Shiera's perspective. The fact remained that they were no longer close, and Shiera had no incentive to tell Daenerys anything.
Daenerys looked away just as a Valeman knight unhorsed a knight from the Reach to the applause of the crowd.
"I have new responsibilities."
"Such as trying to get your daughter to become the next queen."
Shiera's blunt words had the desired effect of making Daenerys turn sharply toward her, her eyes wide in disbelief. A second later, Daenerys glanced toward Daeron who was in the middle of a conversation with Aerys and Dyanna while Aelinor just sat in silence. Jena was also sitting in silence in an attempt to hide her displeasure as she held the young Matarys in her arms.
"I will not dignify such a statement with a response," Daenerys said at last.
Shiera almost laughed, but she had enough self-control to merely smile.
Daenerys looked annoyed by this. It was a shame really. She was beautiful. She should smile more.
"You did not answer my question. What are you plotting?"
Shiera did not give her answer.
It aggravated Daenerys more.
The winner of the jousting tournament would go on to be Daemon, who would unhorse Ser Gwayne Corbray in the final bout. Aegor had sadly been beaten by the Kingsguard knight in the previous round.
No one was surprised by Daemon's victory, but it was still celebrated as most of the realm watched.
Daemon would go on to crown Shiera as his Queen of Love and Beauty with a crown wreath of red roses as his lady wife was not present for the tourney.
Shiera accepted it with grace, knowing that she was not truly the one her brother wanted to crown. She did enjoy the brief look of displeasure that passed over Daenerys' face when Shiera accepted the crown.
It was petty but so much fun.
The final days of feasting would follow after the completion of the tourney, where a royal ball was held inside the Great Hall of the Red Keep as its conclusion.
Shiera made sure to wear one of her usual dresses: a silver dress that exposed a tantalizing amount of skin. Just enough to arouse curiosity but not enough to expose anything.
As always, the eyes of the lords and other men, whether married or not, were drawn to her when she joined the ball.
Her Aenys was talking with his friends, but she kept him in her line of sight even as men began to ask her to dance with them. There was Lord Bertram Reyne, Lord of Castamere, who asked her first. Along with him, Lords Buckler, Farman, and Bracken were some of her most persistent admirers. These men were either twice her age or older, but it did not stop them from wanting to approach her and more.
Shiera could see her brother Brynden scowling in one of the corners of the Great Hall as his eyes followed her every movement. Every time one of the men dancing with her placed a hand on her body, Brynden would become more agitated. It was a wonder he had not attacked anyone yet.
Was it wrong for her to take so much pleasure in his jealousy?
Oddly enough, Brynden had not approached her over the past week. She wondered if he was planning something, or if he just did not know how to approach her now that she had practically abandoned the Red Keep for the time being.
Shiera got to enjoy a dance with Daemon too, and it was more pleasant than she would have thought.
"You're playing a dangerous game, sister," Daemon warned her with a knowing smile.
Shiera merely smiled in return, not responding.
One of Shiera's final dance partners was none other than Aegor who practically shoved some of the other men aside to get to her.
Shiera could have rejected him, but she decided to humor her brother one last time.
"You're trying to make me jealous, aren't you?" he nearly growled in her ear as the two danced close.
"I don't know what you mean."
"Allowing these men to touch you. Even now, they stare at you."
Shiera smiled. "I must be the life of the party."
Aegor did not look amused. "You're no longer staying in the Red Keep."
He changed topics.
Shiera did not answer as the music continued to play.
"Did you finally tire of the charade?"
Shiera raised a delicate eyebrow. "What charade?"
"Daeron. Brynden. Their false claim."
Shiera fought back a smile. "Unfortunately, brother, Daeron shall remain king. Your wish for rebellion has been squashed, hasn't it?"
Aegor scowled as he held her close. "For now. Daemon will see the truth of things eventually. Aenys is nothing more than a distraction."
His words caused Shiera's good mood to disappear.
Aegor did not notice as he carried on. "If you understand the lies and the weakness of Daeron's reign, then come with me. Join Daemon. Join me. We'll build something more. Once the dragon is ours, everything will fall into place."
Shiera pulled back from Aegor, not bothering to finish the dance.
The swiftness of her actions surprised Aegor, but he was not able to say anything before Shiera spoke.
"Take heed, Aegor. If you try anything to harm Aenys, I will not hesitate to burn you and sweep you away. The moment you move against him shall be the last mistake you ever make. Do you understand me?"
Shiera would be surprised if she heard her voice right now, but she did not focus on that. No, her mind was preoccupied thinking of the best ways to kill her brother should he become a nuisance. And she had many ways to get that done.
Shiera did not wait for a response from Aegor who was too stunned by her words to speak. She just walked away from him.
Many noticed Shiera's swift departure, and there were just as many whispers about what might have happened.
---
Aenys' final night in the Red Keep had the young prince exhausted.
He had had a lot of fun throughout the feast. He got to talk to everyone that mattered to him one more time before they left. It was a shame that he wouldn't be seeing Calla, Haegon, Lyonel, and Tybolt again for some time, but he was also eager to see Vaeraxes again. As the week progressed, Aenys became increasingly aware of his bond with the dragon as a feeling in the back of his head manifestied. Somehow, he just knew that Vaeraxes was lonely.
Aenys did not tell this to anyone, not even his parents.
That night, his mother saw him to bed safely before she retired to her own chambers. As he was now four, Aenys requested that he sleep by himself. He did not want to be coddled forever. It made his mother sad, but he felt it was something that he needed to do.
Aenys wasn't sure if he had fallen asleep or not, or what time it was. He just knew that, at some point, he felt a warm sensation overtake him as he was wrapped in a soft and nice scent.
Aenys tried to open his eyes to see what was happening, but then a familiar and welcoming tune reached his ears. It was softly sung as his head was stroked.
Was it his mother?
No. She didn't sing.
Who could it be then? Was this just a nice dream?
Aenys was too tired to make sense of it. He just allowed the soft and nice smell to overtake him and drift off to sleep.
---
Daeron sat atop his throne, his mind full of contemplation.
It was a new day. The celebrations had concluded the night before. The Great Hall hadn't been fully cleaned yet from the previous night's activities. There were many servants scurrying about, carrying out their cleaning duties as Daeron continued to sit on the throne in silence.
Daeron had observed as best he could everything that had occurred over the past week. All the greetings, smiles, and words. All the plots.
His court was becoming one of schemes and liars. What he had been trying to avoid ever since he had ascended to the throne had happened in the end.
Stability had never been Daeron's ally. From battling the accusations that he was a bastard, to his marriage and Daemon's very existence, Daeron had had to contend with many obstacles throughout his reign.
Daemon was no longer the looming threat that Daeron might have once feared. Rather, his half-brother had returned to the Red Keep with smiles and talks of old ties.
They were lies. Daeron saw Daemon's words for what they truly were. He saw his brother making moves right in front of him. He could see Daemon's ambitions forming as he pushed his daughter and son onto Aenys over the past week.
'He's not alone.'
Daeron could not disparage Daemon for his actions. If he did, then he would have to call out every other lord that had come to the celebrations. Even the Starks had presented Aenys with an invitation to the North, an offer which was not extended to Baelor and Valarr.
Another slight. Another insult.
Baelor tried to hide it well, but Daeron could tell that the entire situation was weighing down on his son.
'And now Maron is trying to pressure me too.'
Daeron had made many concessions to his brother-in-law. He had tried to be fair, to atone for the mistakes of the Young Dragon as he saw fit. Many saw it as weakness, but to Daeron it was strength.
And yet, despite all the compromises, Maron was not yet satisfied. He had tried to get Myriah to talk to him about Aenys, but when that didn't work he asked him directly to put pressure on Aerys to have Aenys come down to Dorne.
Daeron was not blind. If he let that happen, the fragile peace that still held would evaporate. It would weaken his own position as many would feel justified in calling him a Dornish puppet, and it would force many lords to act.
It was humbling. Daeron was king, but he was not the most important piece on the board. He had to play it safe.
Daeron had to preserve what he could.
It was for that reason that Daeron summoned Aenys and his parents to the throne room this morning.
They stepped into the Great Hall a few minutes later after the servants had been ushered out. They were led by one of his Kingsguard while two others were standing guard at the bottom of the throne.
"Your Grace." Aerys and Aelinor bowed first, followed by Aenys.
"You may rise, Aerys. There is little reason to stand on ceremony."
With Daeron's permission granted, Aerys stood back up as his posture loosened, slouching once more.
Aelinor remained cautious while Aenys just gazed at the throne with wonder.
"Aenys. Come join me."
While Aelinor looked alarmed and Aerys indifferent, Aenys seemed thrilled as he quickly skipped his way to the throne, climbing the steps with ease.
For a young child, he had great balance.
For Daeron, it was a small test. And Aenys passed easily as the boy stood before him.
"Come, sit." Daeron made space for his grandson on the throne.
Aenys sat down as instructed.
"Wow." Aenys seemed to take to the throne as he sat upon it, gazing down at his parents.
Aelinor looked like she wanted to say something but wisely kept her mouth shut.
Daeron focused on Aenys. "Do you know what the throne represents?"
Aenys titled his head, his face filled with contemplation.
After a few moments, Aenys settled on an answer.
"Power."
Hmm. It was not the answer Daeron would have expected from his grandson, but then again he wasn't sure what he had been expecting.
"Do you know how the throne was forged?"
Aenys nodded. "Dragons."
"Yes. And you have one. Do you understand what that means?"
Aenys just tilted his head again.
"It means that you could become king, if you wanted it."
Daeron heard Aelinor gasp from down below, but he did not look away from Aenys. He wanted to see what his grandson was thinking.
"King?" Aenys hummed. "I'm not Valarr. And he's saying that he's going to be king and take my dragon."
Family drama. Exactly what Daeron needed right now.
"Kings can be made in many different ways, Aenys," Daeron explained gently. "Tell me. Do you want to be king?"
Aenys hesitated. "I don't know."
Fair enough. He was still young.
"For you to be king, you would have to hurt many in your family. Do you want that?"
Aenys frowned. "No."
Daeron nodded. "Then you must understand, Aenys. Even if others push you in a certain direction, you must understand that the only way for us to survive is for us to stick together. Baelor and Valarr are both of the dragon blood, just as much as you are. They matter."
Except they didn't hatch a dragon egg. Daeron tried to silence that thought.
Aenys nodded, slower this time. It was obvious that he didn't fully understand what they were talking about, that he did not understand the implications of what Daeron was trying to get across.
It was underhanded, for him to try and manipulate his grandson in such a way. To try and use Aenys' bonds against him. But Daeron was willing to use such methods for the stability of the realm. For Baelor.
Daeron placed a hand on Aenys' head even as the boy looked uncertain.
"Family matters. You must keep your family safe, including Valarr. Family is everything."
It was almost like a silent prayer for Daeron.
For Aenys? He only frowned as he looked away from his grandfather.