Game of thrones: A storm is coming

The sun was high in the sky, its warmth shining down on the stone courtyard of High Tide. The sound of laughter echoed as Daeron found himself at the helm of a rather unusual—and exhilarating—outing. Laenor and Laena Velaryon had been practically bouncing with excitement since Daeron had suggested they take a ride on Acnologia. It was rare for the children to see such a majestic beast, let alone ride on one, and Daeron's offer had been met with squeals of joy.

Acnologia, the massive shadow dragon, lay coiled in the courtyard, his dark scales gleaming under the sun. Daeron stood at the dragon's side, gently stroking the creature's head as Laenor and Laena eagerly gathered beside him.

"You sure you're ready for this?" Daeron asked, a mischievous grin playing at the corners of his lips as he looked down at Laenor.

Laenor nodded enthusiastically, his silver hair whipped about by the wind. "Are you kidding? I've dreamed of riding a dragon my whole life! I've seen how you handle him; I'll be just fine!"

His dragon Seasmoke gave out a weak roar of being betrayed, to which Laenor sheepishly added, " Of course I'll ride only with you Seasmoke, when you are big enough."

Daeron raised an eyebrow. "Well, I didn't say I was going to let you control him, but sure, go ahead and try."

Laenor's eyes sparkled with excitement as Daeron helped him climb onto Acnologia's back. Laena followed quickly behind, her smaller frame easily settling into place. The dragon rumbled, his great wings unfurling slightly as he prepared to lift off.

"Hold on tight!" Daeron called as he mounted his own dragon, the great beast's leathery wings stirring the air.

With a mighty beat of wings, Acnologia launched into the sky, the wind rushing past them as the island of Driftmark shrank below. The siblings gasped in awe, clinging to the dragon's sides as they soared above the clouds. Daeron, laughing heartily, guided Acnologia with ease, letting the children experience the thrill of flight. For a brief moment, Daeron felt like he could conquer the world. The dragon's powerful wings sliced through the sky as the trio flew in wide arcs, the sound of the wind and the dragon's calls filling the air.

Laena, clutching Daeron tightly, shouted over the roar of the wind. "This is the best day of my life!"

"I could get used to this!" Laenor grinned, his face flushed with excitement.

Daeron's laughter filled the air, the pure joy of the moment infectious. "You two make excellent co-pilots, but remember, Acnologia's got the final say."

After some time, they began descending back toward Driftmark, the land below slowly coming into view as Acnologia's wings beat steadily. They landed gracefully in the courtyard, the siblings hopping off the dragon and running toward the castle with glee.

"That was amazing!" Laena exclaimed, her eyes wide with wonder. "Uncle Daeron, when can we go again?"

Daeron, a smirk on his lips, leaned against Acnologia's massive frame. "Next time, you'll have to bring your own dragon. But I'm glad you enjoyed it."

'Cough..'

The three of them turned around to find out an unamused Rhaenys staring at them with her arms crossed. So they did the best thing to do. 

They ran.

As Daeron left the courtyard to return to the castle, he was greeted by a familiar face—a woman with dark, raven-like hair and piercing eyes. Nessa stood by the entrance to the solar, her demeanor flirty and smiling amusedly, as always.

"Ah, Nessa," Daeron said with a smile. "How goes the work? How's the network progressing?"

Nessa's lips curled into a faint smile, though there was a note of quiet satisfaction in her voice. "As you requested, my little dragon, the network is expanding. I've secured some key informants in King's Landing and a few scattered across the Vale. There are whispers in every hall and alley, even if no one knows who's listening." She paused for a moment, assessing Daeron's reaction. "It will take time to build more trust, but I believe we'll have the information you need soon."

Daeron's expression grew more serious, his mind already turning. "Good. The more information we have, the better. Keep your ear to the ground. I want to know what the key players in Westeros are thinking. Otto Hightower, the King's Small Council, anyone with power in the shadows."

Nessa gave him a bow. "Of course, my prince. I will make sure you're informed."

That evening, Daeron sat with Corlys and Rhaenys in Driftmark's solar. A map of Westeros lay between them, marked with tiny figurines representing key houses and alliances.

"So, Daeron," Corlys began, leaning back in his chair, "what are your plans now that you're back in Westeros? Surely you don't intend to stay idle."

Daeron traced a finger along the map, his gaze steady. "For the next four years, I plan to stay in Westeros and lay down connections. There's no better way to understand the mindset of these people than to get close to them. I want to understand the key players—the lords, the ladies, and the royal court. Their ambitions. Their weaknesses. And how they think.

Westeros isn't like Essos. Here, every alliance is a chess piece, and I need to know the board before making my move."

Rhaenys raised an eyebrow. "And what of the royal court? Surely you can't avoid being drawn into its politics, especially with Daemon and Otto stirring trouble."

"I won't meddle in royal politics," Daeron said firmly. "Not yet. Otto Hightower is too entrenched, and any move we make now will be met with strong opposition. Otto Hightower will make sure I'm painted as a bastard craving the throne with fire and blood, no matter how I spin it. He's already got the king's ear, and if I draw too much attention to myself, he'll use it against me. I'll bide my time. Make allies, gather power, and wait until the time is right. Let him play his games. For now, I'll keep a low profile and focus on building alliances outside the capital."

Corlys nodded slowly. "Clever. But you'll need more than alliances to make an impact."

Daeron smiled faintly. "Essos taught me patience and that there are ways to rise that don't involve bloodshed. For now, I'll leave the politics to those who thrive on it. But once I've built up enough support and influence in Essos, I'll return."

Rhaenys looked at him intently. "So you've already got plans set up in Essos? You've already built something?"

Daeron nodded, his eyes narrowing with purpose. "Yes. My network, my alliances, my army. It's all there, waiting. Once I've established myself here in Westeros, once I've created a few more connections, I'll return with enough power to move things. Not just to challenge the throne, but to secure a future that I can control."

Corlys's lips curled into a rare smile. "I've always believed in your ability to make something from nothing, Daeron. Perhaps this will be your moment to truly shine."

Daeron's gaze softened as he looked out toward the darkening sea. "I hope so. The storm's been brewing for years. It's only a matter of time before it breaks. I'll be ready when it does."

Rhaenys regarded him with a mixture of pride and concern. "You've thought this through."

"I have," Daeron replied. "And I'll continue to play the long game. Let others rush into battle and burn themselves out. I'll be ready when the time comes."

Corlys leaned forward, his eyes gleaming. "And when you're ready, Driftmark will stand with you."

Daeron met his gaze, gratitude flickering in his eyes. "Thank you, Lord Corlys. And thank you, Rhaenys. Your support means more than I can say."

Rhaenys smiled faintly. "Just don't get yourself killed, little brother. We've only just gotten you back."

"As long as I have Acnologia and a bit of luck, I'll manage," Daeron said, his tone light but his resolve unshakable.

The evening in the solar had been tense, with maps and plans dominating the discussion, but now the air had lightened. Corlys leaned back in his chair, a mischievous glint in his eye. " "So, Daeron," he began, swirling his wine, "since you've got a dragon, an army, and half of Essos looking to you for leadership, I suppose the next logical step is marriage. You're fourteen name days old, after all. There will be many lords lining up to marry their daughters to you. You have anyone in mind?"

Daeron blinked, nearly choking on his wine. "Marriage? I'm not even old enough to grow a proper beard yet, and you're talking about marriage?"

Rhaenys chuckled softly, her expression that of a cat toying with a cornered mouse. "He does have a point, little brother. If you want to solidify your power in Westeros, a strong marriage alliance would be... beneficial. Have you given it any thought?"

Daeron groaned, leaning back in his chair. "No, I haven't. And I don't plan to—not for the next four years at least."

"But surely," Rhaenys pressed, a teasing smile on her lips, "there must be someone who's caught your eye. You spent years in Essos. The Lyseni girl, perhaps? What was her name again—Nessa?"

Daeron spluttered, holding up his hands. "What? No! Nessa's... Nessa. She's part of my inner circle, not someone I'd—she's not even—no!"

Rhaenys raised an eyebrow, her grin widening. "Oh, you're blushing. How intriguing."

Corlys laughed heartily, clearly enjoying Daeron's discomfort. "Well, if not Nessa, then perhaps you'd consider someone closer to home. Laena, for instance. She'll come of age soon, and there's no denying the strength of a Velaryon alliance."

"Laena?" Daeron glanced toward Rhaenys, who seemed more amused than offended by the suggestion. "She's my niece! Isn't that... strange?"

"We are targaryens," Rhaenys said with a shrug. "Targaryens have always kept the bloodline strong. It wouldn't be unheard of. You'd be the best husband she could ask for, compared to the nobles here."

Daeron shocked, weakly said, " But won't that be weird for her? She treats me like a cool uncle, even an older brother."

Rhaenys replied calmly, " I understand , but we women are prepared to fulfill our duties ever since we are born. Your feelings will gradually grow, like mine and Corlys."

Daeron sighed, " She will make whoever marries her happy, she is as beautiful as you, sister. She has valyrian blood and But I don't know how to see the little girl who admires me as her uncle as my wife in future."

Before Daeron could further protest, Corlys added another option, as if to save Daeron, "If Laena doesn't suit your taste, there's always Crown Princess Rhaenyra. Marrying her would tie you directly to the Iron Throne."

Daeron's eyes widened, and he shook his head. "Princess Rhaenyra? I barely know her, and marrying the heir to the throne would put me squarely in Otto Hightower's crosshairs. No, thank you. Not that they would let a bastard marry the crown princess. You did see how Daemon treated me?"

Rhaenys nodded but countered," But like you said, that's Daemon. Viserys is much better than Daemon, and Rhaenyra is a lovely child. Maybe meet her first and then decide?"

Daeron stiffly nodded. ' Not like I can tell you that lovely child will bring ruin to the Targaryens along with her bestie and her dad, not to mention triple ntr your son !'

"Then perhaps Jeyne Arryn," Corlys suggested thoughtfully. "She's young, unmarried, and the Vale would make for a powerful ally."

Daeron sighed, rubbing his temples. "I appreciate the... enthusiasm, but I'm not looking to get married. Not now."

Rhaenys wasn't ready to let the subject drop. "So there's no one, then? No woman in all of Westeros or Essos who's caught your eye?"

"No one," Daeron replied firmly, folding his arms.

Rhaenys smirked, leaning forward with a conspiratorial glint in her eye. "You're a terrible liar, Daeron. Your face gives you away."

"It does not!" Daeron snapped, then quickly looked down at the map, as if studying it intently. But his mind wandered, unbidden, to the memory of Daena before the night he left Pentos. A fierce princess, stubborn, and unrelentingly determined. Yet kind, gentle and honorable, with a strong sense of responsibility.

He'd met her by chance, and earned her support after awakening her magic and her dragon. But in the last few days, their interactions were more then just political allies, it could be called friends or even young lovers. But he doesn't know how to adress this issue yet, so he just focused on plans for now.

Rhaenys, ever perceptive, noticed his sudden distraction. "Ah, there it is," she said, her voice triumphant. "You're thinking of someone. Who is she?"

Daeron stiffened, his gaze flicking up to meet hers. "No one. I just... remembered something."

"Oh, it's someone," Rhaenys teased, leaning closer. "You might as well tell me now, little brother. Otherwise, I'll pester you until you crack."

Daeron groaned, his resistance wavering under her relentless prodding. "Fine," he muttered. "There might be someone, but it doesn't matter. I'm not planning to marry anytime soon."

Rhaenys's eyes sparkled with victory. "Who is she? Someone from Essos?"

Daeron hesitated before replying. "Kind of. She's... she's from Yi Ti. Daena Baelaerys, the last living Baelaerys and also a princess of Yi Ti, although she had to escape her kingdom due to a civil war."

"Daena Baelaerys?" Rhaenys's eyebrows shot up. "Like the one of three main overlords of Valyria, that Baelaerys?"

"Yes," Daeron admitted, shifting uncomfortably." Her ancestors were out of Valyria when the doom happened, and they decided to settle down in Yi Ti. Their dragon perished a few years ago, but Daena has managed to hatch her dragon egg with my help. She's currently staying with me till we manage to reclaim her country."

Rhaenys tilted her head, studying him carefully. "It seems she is memorable enough for you to still think about her, even when offered two other valyrian brides. Interesting. And you said you saved her and hatched her dragon? Does that mean you plan to make a move on her in future ?" She raised her eyebrows suggestively. 

"It doesn't mean anything," Daeron said quickly. "I've got bigger priorities than mooning over a girl."

Rhaenys laughed softly, her tone affectionate. "Oh, little brother. You're too young to realize that love has a way of rearranging priorities."

Corlys, sensing Daeron's discomfort, decided to ease the tension. "Well, whether it's Daena or someone else, you've got time to figure it out. She does sound like a good match if she's also a dragon rider, and her noble house is more prestigious than Targaryens. But don't wait too long, lad. The right marriage can change the course of history."

Daeron nodded, grateful for the change in tone. "I'll think about it. But not now. There's too much to do."

Rhaenys smiled, satisfied for now. "Very well, little brother. But don't think I'll forget about this conversation."

As the meeting ended, Daeron gazed out the window at the moonlit sea. His path was fraught with danger, but he had survived worse. The game of thrones was just beginning, and Daeron was ready to play.