𝓑𝓪𝓮𝓵𝓪 𝓣𝓪𝓻𝓰𝓪𝓻𝔂𝓮𝓷
The weeks molded together, the nights an endless array of wishing on stars that never answered, and the silence a taunting song, being only acutely aware of the horrors unleashed around me.

I often dreamt of my wolf's worried expression. Aegon's threat taunted me in my nightmares, and though I knew Cregan was fierce, I knew he and his steel were still no match against a grown dragon.

If what Aegon said was the truth, then I'd lost many a loved one at his hand and he'd soon learn he'd made a mistake leaving me alive.

I'm startled awake by footsteps and someone struggling physically with the guards.

Pressing my face against the bars I hold my breath, listening closely to the voice of a young man I know, and my insides twist.

"Don't touch me!" He spits, digging his heels into the dirt only dragging out the inevitable but I bite my tongue, knowing better than to draw attention.

"You'll regret this! Dragonstone belongs to my moth-"

The boy's voice is cut short with a knee to the stomach and as I watch helplessly my stomach sinks when my fears are realized in the dark corridor.

My nephew Aelyx stumbles but doesn't fall, rearing his head to drive his skull against the turn cloak's chin, the only place not guarded by his steel mask.

Howling in pain the plump guard throws his head back, cradling his jaw with his palms but the other stands unaffected, yanking Aelyx's chains tighter behind his back.

"That's enough. Seven hells, becoming more trouble to them than you're worth," he mutters, shifting through keys until he decides on one.

Hesitating, the guard turns to glance down the hallway and I flee from his gaze like a rat from sunlight.

"I suppose it'll be my father who will deem how much trouble I'm worth," the prince replies and even I feel the eerie shift in the air at the mention of a rageful Aemond Targaryen.

If either of them replies, I can't hear it over their nearing footsteps. Scurrying away from the bars, I find the darkest corner of my cell and sit as still as death, praying the gods still hold favor for us.

"This cell here. Best to keep them secluded from the others," He commands, growing bored with the grumbled complaints of his dazed partner.

My nephew is slung to the dirt of the cell across from me with a hard shove, and I wince, resisting the urge to reach through the bars. Rather, knowing now that my sister's doom must be true, I watch helplessly from the opposite side of the tight hallway.

"What of my cousin? What have you done with him?" He asks desperately, but the guard chuckles to himself.

"Safe and sound, I assure you." The man in charge offers just enough to answer Aelyx's question but the other hangs back only to deepen the cut.

"He's the King's son. As you know, a prince is given their very own... luxurious apartments," He smirks, drumming his fingers against the bars, "Best you become acquainted with your new quarters, boy."

When my nephew doesn't grant the fool a reaction he follows his partner back down the hallway and the chamber grows dark once more.

I open my mouth to speak but a loud crash startles me in the dark, "Aelyx?!" I call out, stepping into the torch's light but I can only make out his shape.

"Whose-? Aunt Baela? Is that-?"

The young man steps forward with a deep-set frown, similar to one of defeat when he realizes he's not the only prisoner they've obtained.

"If you're here then... who will come to my father's aid now?"

"Your grandmother is a diplomat. Rhaenyra will call forth her banners once they come to realize we've been taken hostage-"

My nephew pinches the bridge of his nose between his eyes, unable to look at me as he interrupts. "There's no banners left, no Queen left."

I stare at his dirtied face counting backward from twenty but every second that passes only brings the rage within me to a bubbled and boiling heat.

Surely he couldn't mean both Elaena and Rhaenyra had fallen?

Was Rhaena left?

Or Luke?

If that sick cunt had it his way we we would all be dead.

I want to scream and my voice claws its way up my throat, burning even as I mutter the words, "Both of them?"

Aelyx's intense violet eyes meet mine, shimmering in the darkness with unshed tears, "He's killed them and means to take what's left,"

Without thinking I reply, "I won't allow it. We won't allow it,"

"Our dragons are gone," Aelyx scoffs.

"You forget yourself, nephew. We are more than our dragons, our Targaryen blood and name are of Old Valyria and only death can take that from us, certainly not your cunt Uncle."

My knuckles clung tightly to the bars but it was Aegon's throat I imagined, itching at the anticipation of his imminent karma for all the lives lost at his hand, a damned cockroach that refused to be killed.

Perhaps Aemond will finally exterminate him once and for all for killing my sister.

"I want to drive my sword through his throat for what he's done," Aelyx has never looked more like his mother at this moment and I imagined she'd want to be avenged but not at the cost of her son's youth and innocence.

"You may yet have the chance unless I get to him first," I smirk to lighten the mood but it's short-lived.

I gestured for him to escape the light as footsteps silenced us both. They grow nearer until they stop just before our cells, the light from their torch illuminating the length of the hallway.

And it's no guard, it's a servant, one I recognize from our prior visits but I'd been convinced those who hadn't pleaded fealty were killed.

"You. I recognize your face, you were a maiden for the children years ago,"

Aegon and Viserys were only boys and would remain forever young as would Jacaerys who flew to avenge and save them.

"Lady Baela my apologies for the circumstances but we've little time to plan if we can manage to get you to your dragon," She whispers, coming close to the bars.

My heart summersaults in my chest and I nearly jump up and down at the mention of Moondancer.

"What are you waiting for?! Let us out now as the knights settle for the night!" Aelyx commands in a hushed tone drawing the older woman's immediate attention.

"The Young Prince, is it?" She frowns, taking a step closer to examine his features.

For a moment my nephew has forgotten himself but he straightens his back and addresses her properly, as my sister raised him.

"Yes ma'am,"

"I rocked you in my arms when you were just a babe, though, of course, I don't expect you to recall,"

Aelyx was just born months prior when we took the capital. War was only a thing of stories and history to him, his sister, and his cousins, but to the rest of us, it had shaped most of our lives, hardening us for the years to come.

"He will come for you both in due time, but my Lord is restrained in his own ways,"

Tilting my head, I ask, "And who do you speak for?"

The maid looks from side to side, checking for guards before shaking her head, "I've been sworn to secrecy, my lady. But he promises all will come to light in due time,"

She offers me a sad smile and opens her mouth to continue but is interrupted by footsteps approaching the other side of the corridor.

"For now, I must go, but please take what I can offer for now," she whispers hurriedly, reaching into her apron pockets to unload handfuls of small fruit and bread cuttings into our palms, her fingers trembling in fear.

"When will you be back?" Aelyx asks her, and my heart breaks for the son my sister left behind.

"As soon as I can, my prince." She assures him with a sad smile, squeezing my nephew's hand.

With a sudden bang, the footsteps entered the hallway, slamming shut a cell door behind him. In a panic, we rush to hide the food gifted to us but the maid offers us her farewell, "Do not yet waste your strength on fear." She smiles, "For the Valyrian blood that binds you runs thick,"

Her goodbye strikes a fragile chord, the notes that make up its melody holding dust, but I can't place where I'd heard something similar before.

Aelyx does not speak up again until the commotion down the corridor subsides.

"Do you trust her?" He asks, concerned. My nephew's right to doubt her allegiances; in fact, I was doing so right now, filling in the blanks with potential candidates for whom she took such dangerous risks.

"We've no choice," I confess.

For the Valyrian blood that binds you runs thick.

𝓐𝓮𝓰𝓸𝓷 𝓣𝓪𝓻𝓰𝓪𝓻𝔂𝓮𝓷

Upon the pressure of my council, we don't waste another moment in our attempt at arming Jaehaeryn with a dragon. Still, that dragon would only be another number for our enemy if I didn't play this correctly.

At first, I wondered if he might refuse me, but I knew that just as well as any other Targaryen, the will to ride a dragon was in our blood, even if some rider's Valyrian features were more muddied than ours.

In our first days of attempts on the wild dragons on the island, Jaehaeryn is easily discouraged as am I, wondering if our likeness only went as far as our appearance.

After a late night in the dark caves and tunnels, I convince my son to call it quits early, intent on starting fresh when the sun rises, "Perhaps they're out for a flight... or maybe sound asleep, as we should be. You've worked hard all evening, hm?"

"Or perhaps they feel not to trust you, or they're in mourning of their kind," He quips over his shoulder, and I feel the tension between us has come to a defining head.

"Being that you're the reason they're all dead,"

Jaehaeryn had been careful in the words he chose in our daily meetings, truly, he'd been careful not to lose his chance at a dragon in hopes he'd become some hero for his dead stepmother's cause.

"You speak of the dragon's mistrust or your own?" I ask him, leaning my aching weight against the cane and I feel the knights with us take a step forward.

Jaehaeryn refuses to look at me, his fists clenched at his side and I bite back the instinct to laugh.

"We're making up for those years without a father, are we? Will you stomp off to your chambers next?" I call out to him, but he refuses to react and I grow bored.

I turn to leave but am face to face with Tessa, the disappointment etched on her face and I frown, grumbling under my breath.

"He's still angry. He doesn't understand why, Aegon."

Peering into her faded brown eyes I'm relieved Jaehaeryn doesn't carry the likeness of his mother, for I'm much too weak to be reminded.

"Leave us,"

The guards hesitate, uneager to trust my son but I nod, urging them away.

It isn't until they're a reasonable distance away that I continue, watching my son closely.

"I shouldn't be surprised that you've blocked out such an experience, it was fucking dreadful."

I wish that even I could forget the awful night but to forget the tragedy would be to forget Tessa and how could I tarnish such a memory?

"You were just an infant. Your grandmother had... tucked you away for safe keeping but your mother feared for your wellbeing as any mother would."

Tessa stands close to my son's side, resting her delicate fingers on his shoulder as he listens skeptically.

"Safekeeping? I faintly remember many a night in the black cells, alone, until-" Jaehaeryn stops himself, balling up his fists at his side.

"Until you were given rooms of your own. The very same chamber in which your mother was murdered, the very same chamber you reside in all these years later." I smirk, repulsed that they'd let him sleep mere feet from his true mother's blood stain.

What I say has the wheels turning in my son's head and the faint memories flash in his eyes.

"You're a liar," he tells me, his voice brittle through gritted teeth but it's my brother's words.

With a scoff, I lean more weight onto the cane, taking each step closer to my bewildered son and I notice recognition in his eyes, my eyes.

"You remember, don't you? Those screams at your bedside? The blood?"

"That's enough-" He demands, rubbing his eyes to smudge away the visions but I continue my barrage.

"It haunts my every waking moment. Your mother tried to protect you and they murdered her for it!"

"I SAID STOP!"

Jaehaeryn's booming voice echoes through the many twists and caverns within the dragon mount and something, somewhere deep within stirs.

We both look at one another, hesitant to make another sound but more movement follows.

His dragon was here somewhere, but it would not be easy.

"I never intended on leaving you, it was my only choice," I tell him, desperate to come to some understanding.

Jaehaeryn instead rolls his eyes, turning his back to me intent on following those sounds deeper into the cavern.

"Were you not satisfied with the life I'd left for you?" I call out to him, "Or would you have had me raise you on the streets in Essos instead? Starving and fleeing your bloodthirsty Uncle at every turn,"

I would've never towed around a child in my escape from the capital, it was frankly ridiculous when I knew my brother was far more honorable than I, eager to raise my fallen son.

Jaehaeryn's steps falter and I know I've conflicted him.

"You were raised alongside pretend Prince and Princesses. Eating at the same table with the enemy-"

"At the table where they fed me, in the castle where they clothed me and taught me right from wrong before you killed them all! THE ONLY FAMILY I HAD!" He shouts, the veins protruding from his forehead.

"Are you a fool?!" I yell back at him, taking steps closer, "They kept you close for they had no choice! My brother has sought the crown and glory all of our lives. You've forgotten I've known of his true motives since birth, just as you know his sons?"

Jaehaeryn hesitates, unneager to trust me but he knows what I say holds truth but how much he can't be sure.

The air thickens with the stretching silence, his mind spiraling in his pair of violet eyes similar to mine but his frown mimics that of his mothers when she thought most deeply.

"My King! There is urgent word from our scouts. The Lord Hand requests your ear,"

I nearly jump from my skin when we're interrupted, my annoyed groan not stifled.

"Now? Of course..." I mumble under my breath, glancing back toward my son who watches me carefully.

"Escort my son to his chambers, I will meet Ser Criston myself,"

"Can't you leave me here? I'll find my dragon myself-"

Throwing my head back in laughter I deny him, "You'll do no such thing. It's not safe. We'll continue in the morning if you insist,"

Jaehaeryn narrows his gaze at me in annoyance but I ignore him as fathers must I imagine, and climb the steps up the dragonmont.

"We start at dawn!" He calls out with no room for argument and a smirk rises to my lips.

"We start when I send for you."

***

The rickety chair I reside in does no good for my aching bones. I'd done more walking than had been advised by the maesters but if I were to be King of the Seven Kingdoms once more I would have to regain my strength.

"What was so urgent that couldn't wait until morning? It's past time for a glass of wine and a steam bath-"

"Stark and his army are days away at most. I fear there's no time for wine and steamed baths this morning, your Grace." Criston interjects.

He stands at the head of the painted table, guiding his pointed finger along the long roads that lie between us and Winterfell.

"They've moved rather quickly haven't they..." I mumble, avoiding the worried looks from the lords around me.

"They'll be tired. Their soldiers and their horses won't be able to sustain such a pace and serve their late Queen efficiently on the battlefield." Lord Larys interjects, quick to point out what advantage this may bring us, "Cregan Stark comes for his wife. It seems even his best judgment has become clouded,"

"This may be true but we've not the numbers to battle both their army and the Velaryon fleet, let alone their dragons," Maester Orwlye adds and he's right.

"And the Triarchy? What of their movements?" I ask hopefully, eyeing their sigil on the map.

"If the Gods will it, they'll arrive before Stark." Larys replies.

"We've not much time. We need another dragon rider if we hope to fend them off." Cole eyes me from the opposite end of the table and I know he means to rush Jaehaeryn and me.

"It would be foolish to arm the enemy with another dragon if we can't be sure of his allegiance." Maester Orwlye interjects and though he was speaking the truth I still feel the sting of his words.

The stares from the men around the table fell on me and the impending certainty of the events that were to come were weighing heavy on my shoulders.

"We will have another dragon rider. He will trust me soon enough," I assure them, even if I wasn't so sure myself but there were two fates I was sure of.

I would die or I would become King, reigning victorious for decades to come, there was no in-between.

𝓐𝓮𝓶𝓸𝓷𝓭 𝓣𝓪𝓻𝓰𝓪𝓻𝔂𝓮𝓷
The halls of where I wander are familiar but I can't place them, my sight hazy. The voices that guide me warm my insides and I follow the laughter, my wife's voice among them, and the corners of my lips lift into a smile.

Could it be?

Was she truly awake?

"Elaena?" I call out to her, opening every door within reach but I can't find her.

"We're here Uncle Aemond! We're here!" Jaehaeryn's childish voice beckons me closer and finally, I find the correct door, shoving it open to reveal my wife cradling my nephew and son in her arms on my nephew's small bed.

My stomach was queasy, the uncertainty banging at the walls of my mind but all seemed at peace when I saw my songs smile.

"Look at you," I whisper, relieved to see her skin flushed and full of life.

"They've been asking for you. I thought you might've gotten yourself lost,"  she giggles, brushing Jaehaeryn's stray hairs out of his eyes.

Tears well in my eye and I chuckle to myself, "I believe I did,"

I go to take my place beside my wife, reaching for her youthful face to trace my fingertips down the sharp lines of her jaw but there's no warmth to the touch of her skin.

My smile slowly fades, and the voice is lost from my throat.

The darkness yanks at the corner of my mind and a familiar figure emerges from the shadows that climbed to the ceiling.

"He's my son," The pale woman's voice is void of emotion, cold and distant. My cold heart stops beating as she moves closer to us.

I reach for my sword but I'm frozen where I kneel, the shock of Tessa's ghost one I hadn't seen in my nightmares for years.

Jaehaeryn's mother wields the catspaw dagger, its Valyrian steel glistening with fresh blood.

Tessa goes to take a step closer to Elaena and my broken voice claws its way up my throat, "Please! Not her, kill me!" I beg her, my plea cracked with panic.

Jaehaeryn's screams bounce off the walls of the chamber, joining our son's wailing tears.

Tessa doesn't even look at me, stepping over Elaena's trembling body to raise the blade high and I make one more desperate attempt at movement toward my family but my body refuses.

I'm helpless.

I hear Elaena gasp, a soft and broken sound as she turns her head to look at me.

"Aemond, please,"

I sit up with a jolt, the sweat soaking the roots of my hair at the base of my neck and I shiver from the sudden cold breeze.

My limbs tremble from the aftermath of the nightmare that still clung to me like a disease. The echoes of my failures replayed over and over.

Rubbing my eyes I'm desperate to rid myself of the haunting images that clawed at my mind but what was laid out in front of me wasn't much of a different scene.

For a long moment I simply stare at the ceiling, petrified I may somehow still be trapped in the nightmare but when I finally avert my gaze, I see her.

There, in the dim light of the early morning was Elaena. Her face was soft, and peaceful, too much so in fact. She was still asleep, her fragile form lying unmoving on the bed, a stark contrast to the chaos of my dream, and yet, she was alive.

That knowledge should've brought me relief...

Elaena was alive and safe but instead, it made the fear creep deeper into my chest.

We were more exposed than ever before and there was no way to predict how long it would take for her to wake up.

Clenching my fists tightly I stare at my song from across the room, the weight of everyone's safety nearly crushing me. I could no longer ignore the threat looming over our family, the very ones I'd vowed to protect all those years ago.

I knew I needed to go.

I needed to save our children. 

I've wasted enough time as it stands.

Standing up, the room spins for a moment and my gaze flickers back to my wife, peaceful but so fragile in her unconscious state.

Kneeling beside her, I brush a stray strand of hair away from her face. The gentleness of our touch is the only thing that calms the raging storm inside of me, if only for a moment.

I can't be sure how long I've stood there, staring at my wife's form until a knock at the door breaks me from her spell.

"Uncle?" Luke calls out from behind the door but I don't make a move to open it.

"Hello? Aemond?"

My nephew lets himself in, shutting the door quickly behind him when he lays eyes on my disheveled appearance.

"Seven hells, you look fucking dreadful," 

I muster up an irritated huff in response, my gaze never wavering from my wife.

I looked how I felt.

"Lord Corlys awaits us in the small council chambers. The Winter Wolves grow nearer to Dragonstone by the day." Luke begins, "Cregan marches them often through the night,"

I scoff at this news.

It was foolish to tire his men in such a way but I couldn't say I blamed the Warden of the North for his eagerness to save his wife from the clutches of my heartless brother. We could only hope that it wasn't in vain.

"Then I'm afraid there's no time to waste,"

***

Reluctantly I ready myself for a council meeting of only the private sorts, sending for only those that Elaena and I trusted wholeheartedly.

Out of habit, I leave the seat beside me empty, even nearly pulling it out.

"What's left of the Velaryon fleet is angry, vengeful for their kin and shipmates. If we wait much longer they will wonder where their King's anger lies for his Queen,"

My drumming fingers come to a sudden halt and I turn my head slightly to bring both Luke and Corlys into my line of vision.

"It's my anger they wish to see?" I scoff. The dormant anger was a fire that burned bright but kept tame, for the time being.

She wasn't gone.

Her life was held delicately in the balance and if I moved too far one way or the other, I was afraid she would fall.

One moment I'm counseled to keep a steady head, the next they call for rage.

What would Elaena want? It was her counsel I wished for most.

Surely she would want me to protect our family and loved ones over her, but who could I trust to watch over her in my stead?

I simply couldn't be everywhere at once but it was true that we'd built a steadfast following in a select loyal few.

And there was a particular someone in mind who would be an appropriate match.

In the fog of unease, I knew one thing for certain.

My wife would want Aegon's head for threatening our children, for all of the death and heartache he'd caused.

"My King, we run out of time-"

Standing from my seat I reach for Dark Sister, placing it back at my side. "Send your fleet. Lucerys will cover your numbers at sea and I will fly to meet Cregan on the road."

Luke and Lord Corlys share a look of confusion.

Flustered, Luke stands in my way as if I meant to depart right this minute.

"A-and what of Elaena? Will we leave only her knights to watch over her? W-what of my wife and the girls?!"

Hearing him say her name aloud reminds me she wasn't just a figment of my imagination.

Taking a moment to think, I clasp my song's hand in mine and give hers a small squeeze, praying she squeezes back, but still... nothing.

"Elaena's knights will be joined by another I've entrusted her safety with before. As for them, they should be safe on Driftmark, away from the battle that means to ensue." I decided. What little I'd eaten was swirling in my stomach at the thought of leaving her and having our children so vulnerable, out of my reach.

"And if they're not safe? If all is lost?" Corlys questions me as though donning the crown somehow bestowed onto me a supreme sense of wisdom.

Mulling over my reply thoughtfully I turn my back to them, gazing down at Elaena's thinning face to trace my fingers down the curve of her jaw that our daughter now shared, but her skin is cold, lifeless.

Could it be true that the gods had brought us all this way for nothing?

Had I done something wrong to bestow such a fate upon us all?

"If all is lost they flee. They flee with what's left aback Jaehaera's dragon and never turn back."

***

The dawning of the sun is shaded by the heavy curtains the next morning when I step through our door for the final time before my departure.

"Elaena," I whisper, my voice thick with emotion I couldn't quite pinpoint.

Fear. Guilt. Desperation.

"I've done my very best to fulfill your wishes... and yet your light drifts further still," I murmur to myself, hoping wherever my song was, she could hear me.

With one last lingering touch to her cold hand, I stand, my mind screaming at me to go and take action, to protect our children. I didn't have the luxury of hesitation. I couldn't fail them.

But as my gaze sweeps over Elaena's pale lifeless face, my heart thunders in my chest, and the fear claws at the corners of my mind once more.

What if I left and she never woke up? Or worse, if she woke and someone came for her in my absence, I would never forgive myself.

Glancing toward the door I swallow hard past the lump in my throat.

Duty.

Our children needed me.

Forcing myself to move my steps are heavy, burdened with dread. I reached for the handle but my hand trembles. Was this truly what I must do? Could I leave her like this?

The nightmare from less than twenty-four hours before looms over my head but I can't stay. Not when our children needed me, not when danger was so close.

With a final glance toward my love, I force myself to open the door, stepping out into the unknown, my heart torn into inexplicable pieces.

***