The cold of the highlands which made up the surrounding region surprised Dunk more than he cared to admit. It was the first time that he had traveled so far south, and he expected to be greeted by the unforgiving heat and sun that Dorne was so famous for after he descended upon the Red Mountains.
It was another thing that he had to experience for himself he supposed. Despite being called the "Dornish Marches," certain parts of the region were colder than anywhere else he had ever visited, and he had been to many places already. Perhaps it was his fault for being slow. Mountains were said to be cold, right? Something about the height. Or something like that. He remembered some of the other knights saying something along those lines during their march, but he couldn't recall their words all that well. Dunk wondered if the North was as cold as these highlands, but he did not think too deeply about it. It was doubtful that he would ever go there in this lifetime.
Rather, Dunk spent his evening enjoying the festivities that greeted him and Ser Arlan at Blackhaven, the heavily fortified seat of House Dondarrion. The castle did not seem massive to Dunk, but it did appear very defensible. Supposedly the castle was modest and small compared to some others, and Dunk could believe that claim. He had grown up in the shadow of the Red Keep, and he had even seen Highgarden with his own eyes.
Blackhaven was miniature in comparison, but perhaps memory was clouding his judgement. It was not as if he had ever seen the Red Keep from up close.
These doubts did not stop him from drinking and eating and enjoying himself. Dunk was hungry a lot. He blamed his size. He wondered again if his father was a giant of a man, and if so how much he had to eat every day. If Dunk was already as thick as a castle wall, then his old man was probably as thick as two castle walls. If he still lived.
The festivities came after their quick but victorious campaign in the Red Mountains against the so-called Vulture King. Dunk learned from Ser Arlan that it was not the first time in history that a Vulture King rose up against the Iron Throne. From what little they were able to learn from the few prisoners they brought back, the man who proclaimed himself a king thought that the Dornish were fools to bend to the Targaryens and that the house of the dragon was weak and did not deserve Dornish loyalty.
It was a fool's errand, truly. For Dunk had lived many years in the streets of the Flea Bottom, and he had caught a glimpse of the power of the Targaryens.
A dragon.
It was never up close, thank the gods. But Dunk had manage to catch one sighting of the dragon flying over the city before he began squiring under Ser Arlan and left the capital behind. The other children with him had been in awe at the sight of the beast in the air. It was like something out of a fairy tale. It was hard to believe that such a beast could exist, but the proof was right in front of them. It was probably the same for the others who lived in the city, who admired and respected the dragon from a distance just as much as they feared it.
"The dragons are the reasons why the Targaryens are the masters of Westeros," many said.
Dunk could believe it. He could not imagine ever facing off against such a beast and living to tell the tale. Although, if Dunk's dream could be realized, then maybe he would never have to.
But that was a story for a different time.
Dunk and Ser Arlan, along with the other hedge knights that had signed up for the campaign, were not invited to feast inside the walls of the castle. It was no insult, as Lord Dondarrion prepared the festivities for them outside and even joined them. Lord Caron did the same, and their combined force feasted together. There was a lot of food, a lot of drink, and even more singers and fools to praise the occasion. There was a clear separation, however, as the two lords feasted with their own bannermen rather than any hedge knight.
Not that Dunk picked up on this, too busy enjoying the food. Even from afar, he could tell that Lord Dondarrion seemed happy, though.
"The lord probably expects to be rewarded by the king after this," one of the knights standing nearby was saying. From the way he was swaying and the cup he was holding, he was probably already drunk.
"His cousin is going to be the next queen, isn't she?" another wondered. "No doubt he'll get favors from all the fucking she's doing with the crown prince."
"So they say, but I hear there may be a war coming."
"War?"
"Aye. It's Prince Aenys that rides a dragon, not Prince Baelor nor his sons. That tells you enough, doesn't it?"
"Fucking mad. I bet the prince will claim the throne after King Daeron passes."
"That's what everyone was saying in Highgarden and in Nightsong. It'll be another Dance, they claim."
"There's only one dragon, ain't there? So how can it be a dance of dragons when there's only one of them?"
"I don't get it either."
"It's a stupid name I'm telling you."
"I know who I'm joining when war breaks out. No way I'm getting burned by a dragon."
"What do you think will happen to the lord's prize then? Bet you he'll come back sulking to his castle when it's all over. The poor fool."
"More like his cousin is the fool, fucking that Dornish who claims to be a prince."
"So many of her family fought the Dornish only for her to end up in bed with one of them. Ain't that a joke?"
Many laughed. Dunk only listened, unsure of what to think about the conversation.
He had been hearing similar things everywhere he went. From the Riverlands to the Reach and now the Stormlands. Everyone whispered that there was a civil war coming once King Daeron passed, only it seemed that most had already chosen their side.
"Fools." Dunk was startled when he heard Ser Arlan's voice from next to him. He had not heard the knight approach. "Talking of such things without remembering where they are. They could very well be hanged for treason."
Dunk turned to his mentor. The man was still as small as ever, but he stood straight as always. He had forgone his armor and wore loose trousers with a similarly loose tunic.
"Is what they speak true?"
"Bah!" Arlan spat on the ground. "There were similar whispers about the Blackfyres, but look at them now. You can never believe gossip, Dunk. Everyone is always eager to make a bigger fuss out of every little thing. Bored is what they are. It's better to wait and see than make an ass out of yourself."
Dunk thought about it for a moment. He supposed the old knight was correct. It was not like he knew what a prince would be thinking about, much less one that rode a dragon. Prince Aenys was the only dragonrider in the realm, so that made him different from everyone else. Dunk might only be four and ten….or maybe three and ten, but he already knew that he could never get into a prince's mind, least of all someone as important as Aenys Targaryen. They led two completely different lives, after all.
'Just enjoy what you can when you can,' he reassured himself.
A war might come, but for tonight he could relax and dine to his heart's content. That was enough for Dunk.
The feast lasted well into the night and some were still drinking and laughing as the sun began to rise. Dunk ate as much as he could, knowing that such luxuries did not come often. Ser Arlan on the other hand drank himself into unconsciousness, to the point that Dunk had to carry his mentor over his shoulder to where their horses and camp were.
'If only poor Roger had lived, then maybe he would be the one carrying you right now,' Dunk thought as he set the sleeping man down by their campsite.
It was a depressing thought really, one that came often. It was not a fair way to die to a mere chill as Arlan's nephew had, young as he had been. But then, not everyone always met a ceremonious end, did they? The songs never spoke of the nameless squires and knights who perished in battle. Even during the battle against the Vulture King, Dunk had seen many knights die.
Who would remember them after this?
Roger was no different in that sense, except he was probably worse off, for he had not fought in any battle.
Dunk tried not to dwell on these thoughts as he fell asleep that night. Thankfully sleep came quick with his belly satisfied.
By the morning, many servants were out and about, trying to clean up after the festivities of the night before. Dunk expected a more quiet mood to settle over the knights who remained, but that was not the case.
They all seemed excited about something.
It was only after Ser Arlan awoke and they had cleaned themselves at a nearby stream that Dunk learned what had put so many in such a good mood.
"Did you hear? A raven arrived from the king last night. The steward announced it."
"What did it say?"
"There's going to be a tourney at King's Landing, to celebrate our victory and the prince's."
"What victory?"
"They say Prince Aenys led a successful campaign against the mountain clans in the Vale without losing a single soul. Burned thousands of them with his dragon's fire."
"Seven hells. Thousands of them? So that's the power of the dragons."
"We might get to see the dragon if Prince Aenys is there."
"I ain't going nowhere near that beast, you fool, and neither should you!"
Many similar conversations spread from knight to knight, all with glory in their minds.
Dunk could hardly believe it as he and Ser Arlan began to ride away from Blackhaven with their three horses.
"Is it true, ser?"
"About the tourney? It seems so." Arlan seemed thoughtful for a moment. "We might as well ride to King's Landing. They're hosting the tourney in our honor, after all."
Dunk missed the knight's sarcasm, his mind too preoccupied with the news of what was to come.
It had been years since Dunk had last seen the city which he had called his home. He did not imagine that when he returned it would be for a tourney of all things. It would be his first since he became a squire to Ser Arlan, while the old knight had participated in some during his time.
Dunk wondered what would happen during the tourney. Most of all, he wondered if he would have a chance to see the famous dragon up close, for his curiosity was bigger than his fear.
---
Maekar and the rest arrived at King's Landing from the Eyrie after weeks of travel, safe and healthy. The sea made it quicker, but based on their appearance it was no less pleasant.
Daeron withheld from making any judgement as he sat upon the Iron Throne wearing his father's crown, knowing that he was not all that fond of the sea himself, especially at his age.
The court in the Red Keep welcomed his sons and the rest of his family with applause and cheers after news of the great victory over the mountain clans spread. Most thought of them as mere savages, so the court was happy to learn that they had been utterly destroyed in battle. In addition to the victorious campaign in the Red Mountains, Daeron knew that he had won much good will in the realm. He had displayed his authority as king well, or so he liked to convince himself. Deep down, he knew that it was the campaign in the Vale that captured the people's imagination more. Or rather, it was the subject of the strength that Aenys had displayed with Vaeraxes.
Daeron tried to not let his thoughts show as he expressed his congratulations to Maekar and his two grandsons for their participation in the campaign, making no mention of Brynden and his contributions. However, he did not miss Aenys' absence in their group. He also did not miss the fact that Shiera was not present either.
He was not alone in this. His small council were all curious when they noted that his infamous grandson was not with the rest.
When asked, Maekar did not hesitate to answer.
"Prince Aenys and Lady Shiera declared that they had some business to take care of before taking off on Vaeraxes, your Grace. They assured me that they would return, however."
Something told Daeron that his son was not telling the full story, but it was probably better that way. He did not want any controversy shaking his court right now, especially since Daemon and his family were still in the Red Keep. No doubt awaiting Aenys' return for reasons that were clear to Daeron. Reasons that he did not support. It was all the more alarming when he spotted the solemn look on Aelinor's face, something which she was unable to hide even in the presence of the court.
That was concerning.
After declaring that there would be a small celebration to welcome his sons home, Daeron dismissed the court. Afterwards, he urged his sons, more specifically Maekar, to follow him to his private solar in Maegor's Holdfast. He did not get a chance to ask the same of Brynden as his half-brother vanished with the rest of the court.
Damn him.
Daeron felt slightly guilty over not allowing Maekar to spend more time with his wife and the rest of his children, but that would have to wait until later. He needed to know what other news Maekar brought with him that could not be easily shared with the court.
Before leaving, he overheard the excited Aegon asking the younger Daeron and Aerion questions about the Eyrie alongside Aemon. While he had a meeting with his sons, his grandchildren seemed as if they were going to have their own gathering.
How touching.
Despite his age, Daeron moved quickly through the halls of the Red Keep and had no issue reaching the solar with Baelor, Maekar and Rhaegel in tow. Aerys still remained on Dragonstone and had no intention of returning to the Red Keep at the moment, not until he had to show his face for the upcoming tourney.
It was expected but also grating.
"Speak." Daeron wasted no time as he sat down, gesturing for Maekar to explain the situation to him.
After closing the door behind him, Maekar crossed his arms and sighed.
"Father, before I start, you must promise to not get angry."
"What is this, brother?" Baelor looked curious. "You're not the type to hesitate to speak your mind. Has something occurred?"
"There have been developments." Maekar spoke slowly, choosing his words carefully.
Daeron was becoming more and more concerned now. "Speak, Maekar. You are making my imagination run wild."
And that was never good, for Daeron imagined the worst more often than not.
"Has something happened to Aenys?" The concern was clear in Baelor's voice. It also showed on the man's face. "Is that why he is not with you?"
"No." Maekar put that fear to rest. "As far as I'm aware, he is fine. As I wrote, he performed admirable during battle and suffered no injuries. What I speak is more….personal in nature."
Personal?
Maekar sighed once more before finally sharing what he knew.
"It appears as if Aenys has chosen to take Shiera as his lover."
Daeron felt his mind go blank for a moment when he heard this. What he had feared for some time finally came to pass. It also explained Aelinor's mood. If there was one person in this world that his faithful good-daughter did not care for, then it was Shiera.
And now his half-sister was sharing the bed of her only son.
"You cannot mean-"
"It happened after our victory," Maekar explained further, crushing whatever hope Daeron might have had that he was misunderstanding the situation. "I'm sure the entirety of the castle heard the two of them. I'm inclined to believe that that was Shiera's intent, to let Lord Arryn know of what happened. I'm sure she's aware of what you were hoping for, father."
Yes. For Aenys and Aelora to one day wed, and for their daughter to wed Valarr's heir down the line. If that happened, then Aenys' blood would sit the Iron Throne and with the union of the two lines the dragons would once again be tied to the crown. Daeron was no gambling man, but knowing his luck he was more than ready to believe that Aenys' blood was the key to reawakening the dragon eggs. The odds that Aenys was the sole anomaly, that his future children would not be able to also hatch eggs, were close to zero.
And if Shiera was not a whim, not only would the two create their own branch of the royal family, but then Aenys' blood would become tied to dark magic.
'Not that it isn't already.' But the realm did not know that, and perception mattered more than truth at times.
Daeron still remembered the "prank" his sister played on Aerys. At the time, he thought of her actions as the mere whims of a child. And yet, those whims changed everything, and for reasons he could not understand Shiera refused his request to see if she could do it again, only this time with Baelor and Jena.
Daeron knew better than to press his sister. While normally apathetic to the affairs of their family, he did not want to see what she would do if he angered her. It was the one warning he took to heart from Brynden who shared that Shiera had her own magical abilities. They might differ from Brynden's, but they were no less dangerous. One might think him mad to keep someone like her around, but Daeron knew Shiera. She would not act out against his family unless she was provoked. It was more beneficial to see if she might use her abilities for their family's prosperity.
Except that wasn't working either.
Just like Aenys, she was proving herself too wilful for Daeron to command in any meaningful way, and it stung him.
'What is to become of this family once I'm gone?' Daeron bemoaned once again as he sunk into his chair. The weight of his father's crown felt heavier than ever.
"Where are they now?" Baelor composed himself and asked Maekar what he wanted to know. Daeron could see that his eldest was also taken aback by what Maekar had just shared. He probably still saw Aenys as a boy, not a man who would decide to lay with his great-aunt of all people.
Maekar shook his head. "As I've said, I do not know. Aenys did not say. Brynden might have an idea, but he refuses to share."
Of course. Brynden was also acting up now too? Just what Daeron needed.
"This is unacceptable," Daeron murmured. "Just what are those two thinking?"
Was Shiera intentionally trying to sabotage his plans?
"They seem happy," Rhaegel said softly. "I do not think it wise to try and separate them, father."
Daeron glanced at his son. Rhaegel had a good heart and thought of family first. They were not necessarily bad traits in a ruler, but unfortunately he was unable to grasp the nuance of their situation. It made his kindness both his good and worst quality.
Worst of all, Daeron could imagine his father laughing at him from the beyond. If he were still here, he would probably be cheering.
"We must wait to speak to Aenys," Baelor said, coming to a decision. "We do not know where his thoughts are. Maybe it is but a fleeting affair."
Somehow Daeron doubted that very much, but he knew Baelor was right. He would have Aenys explain himself first.
"He also threatened Lord Arryn before he left," Maekar added, adding more weight to the already heavy pile that was Daeron's concerns. "The man was not happy to know this granddaughter was passed over for Shiera. Aenys did not take that well and threatened him to mind his own affairs."
How joyful.
"I'll write to Lord Arryn later." Daeron nursed his forehead. He was already dreading sharing all of this to Myriah later.
"If there is one positive to all of this, then it is that Daemon will not be able to make use of Aenys." Maekar tried to be positive.
Daeron did not feel comforted. He knew Daemon. He doubted very much that Shiera's involvement would stop him. No, more than likely, he would just adapt. But adapt how?
'No, perhaps I'm the one who's not thinking hard enough,' Daeron thought.
There was no betrothal. As the situation stood, Aenys was still unbound. Even if his affair with Shiera were serious, Daeron was still the head of the family.
Could he do it, though? Could he order Aenys to take Aelora as a wife, knowing that it might anger both him and Shiera?
"Brother, I hope you are not too depressed over this," Baelor said as he looked at Rhaegel, causing Daeron to snap out of his thoughts.
Rhaegel smiled. "It's alright, Baelor. I know Aenys means no harm. Aelora is not happy, but I hope she will one day understand."
"You speak as if Aenys will wed Shiera," Baelor said in return, his face contemplative.
Rhaegel shrugged. "I saw his face, brother. Aenys does not think of this as a mere affair. I'm certain that their feelings are real."
How bothersome.
If what Rhaegel was saying was true, then Daeron knew that he had to step in. But how to do it, especially knowing that Aerys would be unlikely to cooperate with him?
'Perhaps Aelinor might…..'
Aenys loved the woman above all else. If she talked to him, could his mind be changed?
A different voice echoed in his mind, telling him to leave the situation be. That even if Aenys and Shiera were to wed, that it would not matter. That perhaps it would make Aenys' claim all the weaker in the eyes of many. And even if it didn't, that he could still have their daughter marry Valarr's son. They were dragons, after all. What did it matter that Shiera was considered to be a practitioner of the dark arts?
Then another voice chimed in, reminding him that Aenys had disregarded his authority as king. If he could not control his grandson, what hope would Baelor have? What about Valarr? What would become of his family if Aenys felt that he could do as he wished just because he rode a dragon?
Daeron hardened both his mind and his heart. The coming weeks could very well decide the future of the realm, and he was keen to see events flow in his favor.
---
Unbeknownst to the king, Daeron the younger's head was also marred with a headache as he was asked question after question by Aegon and Aemon about his time in the Vale. He loved his younger brothers, but the boys were more enraptured by Aenys and Vaeraxes than anyone else in their family, except for maybe Aerion. At least it was for different reasons than Aerion's claims that they were dragons or whatever else he liked to sprout when he thought it amusing.
Daeron didn't like admitting to himself that he harbored similar sentiments at times. If he did, then knew Aerion would gloat for the rest of their days.
After his grandfather took his father and uncles away, Daeron's mother and the other ladies of the court brought them to the godswood of the Red Keep. There, they were having tea and some other foods as they gossiped. Meanwhile, Daeron and his cousins caught up as they walked through the godswood. Matarys even joined them, although there was no sign of Valarr.
The young Matarys told them that his older brother was practicing in the training yard. Apparently word of Aenys' knighting had Valarr motivated to reach his spurs soon too.
'Always a competition.' Daeron didn't get it, but then again he was not in line for the throne. He could afford to be more easygoing. Valarr was under a lot of pressure as he was often compared to Aenys, and many thought that he did not match up.
Of course, little Aegon did not miss the way Aelora sulked as they walked through the godswood.
"What's wrong with her?" he asked bluntly. His little brother had a way of cutting right through the heart of the matter with little regard to other's feelings. Daeron hoped he would grow out of it.
Aelora glared at Aegon. "It does not matter to you, Egg."
"Hey! Only Aemon calls me that!"
"So?"
The little Aegon pouted at Aelora's curtness.
Laughing, Aerion stepped into the conversation as he patted Aegon on the head.
"Don't be too hard on her, little brother. Our dear Aelora is going through a rough time after being rejected so thoroughly."
Daeron sighed as he held his head. "Do we have to do this now?"
He was, of course, ignored as Aelora's glare settled on the smirking Aerion next.
"I was not rejected! Aenys was merely….distracted for a night."
"Right." Aerion's smirk grew. "That is why he is with her right now instead of being here with you."
Aelora glowered but did not give an answer.
"What are they talking about?" The youngest among them, Rhae, leaned in closer to try and whisper to Daella, but her question was heard by all.
Daella hummed as she tilted her head. "I'm not sure. There were some weird noises one night when we were at the Eyrie, and then everyone started acting weird. Aenys also threatened Lord Arryn over something, but father would not speak of it to me."
"Woah." Rhae looked curious. "Father did not say? Then it must be huge!"
"Right?"
"I-I think so too," Daenora said softly. "Mother would not say a word about it to me when I asked, so there must be something going on, especially since Aelora is in a bad mood."
"It's like a mystery!" Rhae gushed. "We must learn more!"
"But how?" Daella wondered.
"Can't we just ask Aelora?" Rhae questioned.
Daella pouted. "I tried, but she would not tell me anything."
"There must be a way!"
Aelora's eyebrow was seen twitching as they all heard the three young princesses "conspiring" to learn more about what had happened.
"Not you as well," Daeron muttered, unhappy that Daella and Rhae wanted to get involved too.
"I think we just need to focus on other things!" Aelor said, trying to switch topics. "Like the tourney!"
Aerion snorted. "It's not as if we can participate yet. We are but squires."
"You could join in disguise," Aegon suggested with excitement. "Didn't Baelon the Brave do something like that? He participated as a mystery knight. I'll even be your secret squire!"
Aerion looked amused. "Already want to be a knight, do you?"
"Yeah! Like Daemon or Aenys! They were both knighted so young!"
"Aenys still has to prove himself, though," Daeron said, remembering how his father had knighted Aenys without his cousin proving his skills with a sword in actual combat. Not that it was too different from many other lords, but Daeron knew how much Aenys loved to fight if given the opportunity.
'He might just love burning his enemies more,' Daeron thought, still remembering the aftermath of Vaeraxes' flames. It was a sight that he doubted he would ever forget, and not one that he wanted to see again.
Daeron wondered for a moment if that made him craven, to not seek conflict. While he admired the prowess of his father, war and death were not concepts that Daeron wanted to be familiar with. He would not run, but he did not want it. He was only glad that his dreams did not involve any fire or blood. What he saw instead were visions of a great green and red dragon, with wings so massive that they could cover the whole of the realm.
The colors of the dragon confused Daeron the most. He had never heard of any dragon with such coloring, and Vaeraxes was silver and gold. Why must dragon dreams always be so annoying to decipher?
'Perhaps with a glass candle it would be different….'
Maybe one day.
The conversation stopped before Aerion had a chance to respond as three new figures joined them in their walk through the godswood. Not out of a chance, as Daeron did not miss the way the three had emerged from a different path with clear intent in their eyes.
'It has to be you, Calla.'
Another one of their cousins, although more distantly related.
Calla Blackfyre. She was beautiful, as were her sisters. Daeron would not lie and say that he would not be happy with someone like her at his side, but he knew better. Much like Shiera, the young lady only had eyes for Aenys. She had been like that since they were young. Daeron was not keen to make a fool of himself and pursue someone like her only to be rejected, especially when it was rumored that her father was letting her choose her own husband.
Although the situation had changed, Daeron would not be the one to tell Calla that her beloved prince was with someone else.
"Daeron. Aerion. You have returned." Calla greeted them with a small smile which had enticed many men already.
"And without a dragon." Her younger sister Daena looked unhappy as she scowled.
"I guess we don't matter when Aenys is not around," Aerion said, the opposite of Daena with only mirth in his features.
Daenerys giggled. "Don't take it to heart, cousin. Daena merely wants to go on another flight around the city. It has been too long."
"Yeah, we're not always in the city, unlike the rest of you," Daena said.
Aelora's eyes narrowed. "I would not get too comfortable if I were you. Such occurrences might seem too unbecoming one day."
Daeron wanted to groan, but he held himself back. Why was Aelora picking a fight with Daena now?
Daena did not seem bothered by Aelora's words as she waved her off. "I don't care for the barking of a small dog like you, Aelora. Try to be more clever with your words next time, why don't you?"
Aelora glowered. "I'm a dragon, unlike you."
Daena's eyes narrowed as she took a step forward. "What?"
"Woah." Aegon looked excited for whatever reason as his eyes shifted from Aelora to Daena. "Are they going to fight?"
"Idiot, why do you look happy about that?" Daella scolded her brother.
"It might prove for an interesting sight." Aelor looked interested in the idea too as he cupped his chin in thought, trying to seem like a wise maester reading over an important text as he looked at the annoyed Aelora and Daena. "Who do you think will win?"
Daenora was shocked. "Brother, are you really hoping that our sister fights here?"
"Ssshh, sister. Not right now. This could prove important."
Daeron wanted to knock some sense into the boy. He blamed Aerion for corrupting the poor boy.
Daenerys reached for the sleeve of Daena's dress, her face shifting to worry. "Sister, we are not here to pick a fight. Remember?"
"Daenerys is correct." Calla cast a warning glance at Daena who huffed. "We were curious to know more about your battles against the mountain men."
"Is that all?" With a grin, Aerion sauntered his way to the three sisters and draped an arm around the irritated Daena. "I believe I can spin a tale that might pass the time. At least until night comes."
"I think the truth might be preferred," Calla said, seemingly amused by Aerion's antics as Daena shook off his arm. "The court is filled with much gossip but rarely do they tell the truth."
Daeron knew that for himself. The gossips never spoke of the death of the battlefield, just on the victory.
'Perhaps I could become a singer.'
Now there was a thought.
As the three Blackfyre sisters joined their group, it did not take long for Haegon and the younger Daemon to join them as well. The enthusiasm of Daemon whenever it came to Aenys always made Daeron uncomfortable, but he tried not to think too much of it.
Soon after, the young Aenys Blackfyre arrived last before he began to play with Aegon and Aemon. Supposedly the three had become friends during the Blackfyres' stay at the Red Keep, with the older Aenys acting as the group leader funnily enough. It was a friendship that Daeron had not expected to see, but he did not comment on it. He did not try to stop it either, seeing no harm in it.
The black and red dragons were mingling once more, in peace.
---
Danelle was a curious person by nature, and she could not fathom what the two Targaryens could possibly be doing on the Isle of Faces. By her estimation, the two were on the island for weeks. But for what purpose?
The curiosity almost drove her mad.
During that time, her brother Lucas wondered if he should send a raven to King's Landing to inform the king of the prince's whereabouts.
Manfryd argued otherwise. "Surely the king knows where the prince is."
They had not received any raven from the capital to be on the lookout for the prince either, so Lucas was inclined to agree with Manfryd. He did not want to trouble the king with something that could possibly be insignificant, especially when they were readying themselves for the upcoming tourney.
Danelle had little interest in tourneys and the like. She saw enough men hitting one another in the practice yard for her liking. Hells, her brothers were obsessed enough with knighthood that they made up for her disinterest.
Instead of worrying about the tourney, Danelle spent her time tending to her bats which she kept in the Tower of Ghosts. The tower was the most ruinous of the five towers of Harrenhal. Much of it could not be accessed anymore, yet it still stood. Because it was mostly forgotten by not only her brothers but also the rest of their household, it provided Danelle with the privacy that she needed to practice her magic.
The irony of the ruined sept in front of the tower was not lost on her.
Danelle did not know if any other had ever made use of the tower as she had. There were signs that someone had once made use of the lower levels much like she was, but the official records stated that the tower had been largely ignored since Aegon the Conqueror killed Harren and his sons.
History forgot many things, and Danelle often wondered if someone else like her had found the privacy of the tower useful.
While their family was not wealthy by any means, Danelle still had the means to secure several texts which provided her with useful insight on improving her skills. One of her most important skills were her skinchanging abilities. A warg as they were known in the North.
The only warg in their family, and her brothers were none the wiser.
Her bats proved very useful in this regard. Another irony perhaps, that she chose the symbol of her family as her servants.
Of course, Danelle was not satisfied with what she knew. There were other sources of magic out there, sources that she could exploit for her own ends. The Valyrians were once said to be masters of different arts of blood magic, and Danelle was interested to know more about it. The process was slow, as coming into possession of any such magic in Westeros was almost impossible.
The east was her best bet.
'Or perhaps I might have found another way,' she thought, remembering Shiera and the many rumors which surrounded her.
Could Shiera share what she knew with Danelle? What a fortuitous meeting that would be then, if that came to pass.
Was she being too impatient perhaps? Or was she merely eager to get to know someone else who could possibly understand her abilities?
Then there was also the prince that was with her. While Danelle cared little for conventional titles, she was not blind to the current political storm that had been brewing in the realm for so long. More importantly to her, Aenys Targaryen seemed to possess magic of his own, albeit weaker than hers and Shiera's. What did that mean for the future?
'A sorcerer king.'
Now wasn't that an interesting thought.
Danelle was aware of the history between her family and the house of the dragon. The scandals of her forebears were a scar which her brothers had to endure to this day. There was a reason why her brothers remained unmarried. Choosing a suitable match for the two of them was proving difficult, especially since Lucas had asinine ideas about rebuilding Harrenhal and bringing it back to its former glory.
Even if such a thing were possible, where would he find the gold to finance such a venture? They were not the Lannisters. They were not sitting on a literal mountain of gold.
Unfortunately, her brother's head was typically in the clouds, and he rarely if ever listened to her advice when she offered it.
A pity really, but not one that she cared too much to fix. Her brother's ambitions were not her concerns, and if he brought ruin to himself then it was of his own making.
Danelle's thoughts were interrupted by the sounds of roars coming from outside, which were becoming increasingly louder over time.
She knew what it meant.
'The Targaryens are back.'
Somewhat excited, Danelle commanded her bats to return to their cages before she left the tower, taking care to make sure that she was not seen by anyone. Thankfully few paid her any special attention, finding her too peculiar to approach her.
It suited her just fine.
As she suspected, Danelle spotted the dragon flying over Harrenhal. The dragon performed a few laps around the castle, drawing the attention of everyone in the castle.
She still remembered what the dragon looked like, with its pair of enormous horns which carved backwards over its eyes, almost framing the dragon's head like a crown. This was not mentioning the rows of shorter protrusions all over its cheeks.
It was beautiful in a way which Danelle had never envisioned until she saw the dragon for the first time.
She tried to put that out of her mind as she joined her brothers in the same courtyard where the prince had landed when he first flew this way.
She forgot that she was wearing form-fitting breeches rather than one of her dresses as she preferred their level of comfort when practicing with her bats. Thankfully Lucas was not able to reprimand her for her appearance as the dragon was soon descending over their heads.
The dragon landed roughly in the middle of the courtyard with dust being kicked off the ground as a result, causing many to shriek and point. The beast let out one final roar which made several of the servants shake in fear at the powerful sound.
Somehow, Danelle felt as if the dragon was trying to put on a show, but she had no way of confirming it.
Danelle merely gazed at the dragon in wonder before she fell to one knee like her brothers. However, she was unable to keep her composure when Aenys and Shiera dismounted from the dragon.
Why?
Because she could sense it. The difference in the Targaryen prince. There was something resonating within him which had not been there before. Danelle was not sure if she was more sensitive to magic than the average practitioner, or if anyone who used magic was able to sense others who possessed it. Her ignorance was unfortunate, but something she had to work through.
All of that was to say that Danelle was able to immediately sense the new source of magic which now emanated from the young prince. And it was….new and unique, unlike anything which she had felt before. It was both warm and full of life. As if his fire was being amplified by a nurturing wind if that made any sense. Like his fire was a sun rather than a mere storm. As if the fire within him did not seek to destroy but rather preserve. Or restore.
None of that made any sense, but Danelle still understood.
'This feeling.'
Danelle raised her head before any permission was given, but that did not seem to bother Aenys who greeted her brothers with a smile.
It was a new feeling, but it was a feeling that Danelle knew she wanted more of.