Robert’s Second Chance: Dance of Dragons Rewritten

And now everything has changed, Robert thought the next morning as he joined the procession to see Aemond off, on his way to Riverrun to potentially meet with his bride.

Hopefully, this Tully lass is a beauty, he mused.

The rage in Aemond's eye last night had unnerved Robert, and he spent the evening absentmindedly polishing his Warhammer long after it was clean and gleaming. Sleep had eluded him. Not merely because of the exhilaration of claiming a life with his own bare hands (an exhilaration he had not felt since the days of the Rebellion), but because he was remembering all the stories he read about Aemond One-Eye. The Terror of the Trident. Maesters were unable to calculate the number of smallfolk that died in Vhagar's flames, but estimates ranged from under nine hundred to over nine thousand.

Something else I hope to prevent, if I can. It was possible he already had.

In the original timeline, Aemond had surely gone half-mad. Losing Prince Jaehaerys and watching his beloved sister suffer had been a blow. Falling for Daemon's trick and leaving King's Landing unguarded, vulnerable to the Blacks, had been another blow. Undoubtedly, he had heard the rumor of the Brothel Queens, yet another devastating blow (who wouldn't be driven half to madness at the thought of his mother and sister being raped for days on end?). And then, when he was already in that vulnerable state, he had met Alys Rivers, a woman fabled to be a sorceress. Gods only know what magic she might have cast on him.

And because Aemond succumbed to his madness and became a monster, Daemon was able to kill him and take Vhagar out of the war.

But Robert could prevent it. He knew he could. Just like he prevented Blood and Cheese.

Keeping Prince Jaehaerys alive might have stopped him from taking that first dark step. Now, I must keep Aemond and Vhagar away from Harrenhal, just as I must ensure Aegon and Sunfyre are not critically wounded at Rook's Rest. If I can keep Aemond from wandering down that dark path, I might be able to save thousands of innocent lives while ensuring the Green's victory…

"I fear for my brother's well-being too," a soft voice said behind him, snapping him out of his musings.

He turned to see Queen Helaena standing behind him. A small group of guards waited at her back, and she carried the young Princess Jaehaera in her arms. The sight of the two of them together, relaxed and even happy, sent an unpleasant pang through Robert's heart.

Two gentle, kindhearted queens, Robert thought sadly. All Dance historians agreed they were pure, innocent, and undeserving of their cruel fates. Both mother and daughter had shared the exact same death: slow and painful exsanguination impaled on the blades at Maegor's Holdfast. Helaena by suicide, Jaehaera by murder.

Not if I have anything to say about it.

"Aemond has always had a bit of a temper," Helaena continued. "And I fear that temper may lead him astray should this war take a dark turn."

It still may, he thought grimly.

"And for a time, I believed it would," she said. "Until you arrived."

Robert nodded respectfully. "Your family are the rightful monarchs, your grace," he continued. "Anything I can do to be of service. To ensure the true King remains on the throne."

She cocked her head ever so slightly, her blue-purple eyes unreadable. "But it's more than that, isn't it, Lord Borros?" she asked.

Yes, it was, but he would have to play dumb. "I'm not sure I understand what you mean, your grace."

She stared at him quietly, blinking slowly. "Before you arrived, the Dreams were darker," she said. "Dreams of death and destruction. Of Fire and Blood that would leave our family burned to ashes."

Dreams? He tensed, realizing immediately that Helaena wasn't talking about her sleep. There had been a few odd rumors that the Queen had Dragon Dreams, glimpses of events not yet come to pass. Robert had always dismissed them as nonsense…but that was before he woke up in his ancestor's body.

Could it be…

"When you arrived, Lord Borros, they began to change," she added. "The dark Dreams still linger, but now there are bright ones as well. Beautiful Dreams. Dreams of dragon wings painting the skies for centuries to come…" She bit her lip. "And I no longer know which ones will come to fruition."

Dragon wings painting the skies for centuries to come, Robert thought a bit dreamily. Nearly all the dragons died during the Dance. If Robert saved the Greens, would he also save the dragons? It could be a nightmare…or it could prevent many future wars that the Targaryens did not have the power to stop without them.

"There is something special about you, Lord Borros," Helaena declared. "Something that I cannot put to words…something that my Dreams cannot even help me to see. But there is something special about you."

She smiled, kissing Jaehaera on the forehead. "And not only do my children owe you their lives, but possibly the rest of my family as well. A debt I can never repay."

Robert could not bring himself to deny that her words were true. Not when she was looking at him with those wide, innocent eyes. Nearly as innocent as her daughter's.

"The only repayment I need, my Queen," he said, "is for you to raise your children to be half as wonderful as yourself. And to teach them to do the same with their own children."

Through your bloodline, Rhaegar will never be born. Nor will his father, the Mad King. Not only will my beloved Lyanna live a long and happy life, but Westeros will be a more beautiful place for it.

Helaena smiled, nodding, but just as she was about to turn away and rejoin the procession walking back to the castle, a knowing twinkle shone in her eyes.

"His grace will need to fly Sunfyre into battle," she said confidently. "He will need to lead his army on dragonback to raise their spirits. Otherwise, Rook's Rest will become a dangerous stronghold for Rhaenyra."

A Dream? Robert wondered, going stiff. Fuck…

If Aegon and Sunfyre joined Aemond and Vhagar at Rook's Rest, he was going to be horrifically burned and out of commission for most of the war. Sunfyre would never be the same, and eventually he would die in battle with Moondancer. The Greens already had fewer dragons than the Blacks; they couldn't afford to lose Sunfyre.

"But…" Helaena said, smiling far too serenely for a woman who certainly had a Dream of her husband being burned half to death. "Just because he needs to fly, that doesn't mean he needs to fight."

He frowned. But if he holds back and lets Aemond fight alone, Meleys may well be able to kill Vhagar, and that loss would be devastating.

"You're a smart man, Lord Borros," Helaena said. "Surely you can see the obvious solution."

He tried not to snort, remembering it would be rude to do so in front of a Queen. The obvious solution would be to kill Meleys before she can get there, but…but…

She must have seen the realization dawn in his eyes, because Helaena smiled brightly, nodded her head respectfully, and turned to head back to the castle with her daughter in her arms.

Robert's mind whirled, flipping through the history book in his mind.

Meleys…he thought. Rook's Rest was not a battle taking place over a single day. It was under siege for some time before Lord Darklyn sent his raven to Rhaenyra to ask for help. Jace and Joffrey wanted to go, but Rhaenyra held them back, and Rhaenys went instead on the lethal Meleys. She arrived, falling into the trap Aegon and Aemond laid for her, ultimately wounding Aegon and damn near killing Sunfyre. But where was Meleys before that?

He growled, closing his eyes and rubbing his temples. The Gullet…Yes! She was patrolling the Gullet, guarding Corlys's ships!

But fuck, that answered nothing! How the hell was he supposed to kill Meleys while she was patrolling the Gullet? How the fuck was he supposed to kill a dragon at all?

More than that, there was the kinslaying element. Robert had no idea how he managed to end up in the past at all, but surely it was by work of the gods. Kinslaying was despised by the gods more than any other act, and Rhaenys had Baratheon blood. Was there a way to kill Meleys without killing her rider?

I best figure it out quickly, Robert thought darkly. Because Corlys's blockade on the Gullet was making Aegon angry and soon, Criston Cole would be leading the march to Duskendale.

Though fortunately, he will not be doing so as Hand of the King. Robert would do everything in his power to ensure that Otto wore that pin until the bitter end of the Dance.

Aemond

Three Days Later

"This is amazing!" Abby cried, expanding her arms as they soared through the sky, wind whipping through her auburn hair. Fortunately, Aemond had ensured she was securely fastened to Vhagar's saddle with both chains and a harness; otherwise she would have fallen off before they made it out of the Riverlands.

"I never want to ride another horse again!"

Aemond chuckled, remembering the first time he rode Vhagar himself. The thrill of horseback riding was a thing of the past for him.

Abby gently rubbed her hand between Aemond's shoulder blades. "Will our children really get their own dragons one day?" she asked excitedly.

"Indeed," he promised. "My sister is the rider of Dreamfyre. She regularly produces fresh clutches. Helaena declared all of my children would be given cradle eggs."

Helaena had made that promise to him years ago, shortly after she claimed Dreamfyre. All the eggs Dreamfyre produced while she was still unclaimed were Viserys's property, but all eggs produced afterwards were Helaena's. She had promised him an egg from Dreamfyre's next clutch, but he claimed Vhagar before Dreamfyre could produce one. So instead, his sweet sister had promised that Aemond's children would never endure the same childhood that he had. No matter how many children he sired, they would all be given eggs.

He had used that promise as a bargaining chip with House Tully. A bargaining chip that put them over the edge in granting Aegon their support.

As Lord Borros predicted, Elmo Tully's reception had been frosty, despite a sickly Grover being pleased to receive him. And so, heeding Borros's advice, it was Elmo that Aemond devoted most of his time to impressing during his three-day stay at Riverrun. Aemond sparred with the Tully soldiers in their training yard, learned how to fish from their docks, and hunted with Elmo and his brothers in the woods. During the hunt, he finally managed to get Elmo to relax enough to tell him why he was reluctant to bend the knee to Aegon.

"I'm ashamed to say it's fear, my prince," Elmo confessed as they rode side by side on the trail. "Not fear of your uncle, the Rogue Prince, but fear of what might be said about my family. Our words are 'Family, Duty, Honor'. My father bent the knee to Rhaenyra more than twenty years ago and swore an oath. I will make a hypocrite out of my House if I betray that oath and ask other Riverlands Houses to do the same."

Aemond swallowed his anger, remembering his lessons from his mother and grandfather. Charm and logic in perfect balance. Breathing fire at a future Lord Paramount could cost them the war.

"My Lord," he challenged gently. "Surely you remember that oath was made before King Aegon was born."

Elmo hesitated. "Well…yes…"

"The entire reason my father asked the Lords of Westeros to swear that oath was because he had no male heir and he knew it was unprecedented to name a female heir," Aemond explained. "If Rhaenyra were a man, such an oath never would have been necessary. It would be understood that a firstborn son would be heir without question." He looked at Elmo, quirking an eyebrow. "Surely it did not escape your notice that my father did not ask any of the Lords to renew their oaths after my brother's birth?"

Elmo's frown deepened, but he said nothing.

It's not enough. I need more.

"Furthermore, my Lord, honor is a thing exchanged between honorable men," he continued. "My uncle is no man of honor."

Elmo raised his eyebrows a bit, a universal gesture of 'Well, you're not wrong…'

"And Princess Rhaenyra, I'm ashamed to say, has disgraced our family three times over," he continued. "Birthing three bastard sons of Harwin Strong was an act of treason."

Now, Elmo stiffened, and Aemond saw a flicker of doubt in his eyes. "I heard the rumors," he mumbled. "They…truly are bastards?"

Aemond nodded. "You need only look at them to see it, my Lord. Jacaerys, Lucerys, and Joffrey all have brown hair, brown eyes, and features that are clearly that of the First Men. Rhaenyra and Laenor both have silver hair, purple eyes, and Valyrian features. I've met Harwin Strong; they all look like younger versions of him."

Another flicker of doubt, stronger this time.

And now I go in for the kill.

"The honor of House Tully is beyond reproach, my Lord," Aemond assured him. "But there is no honor in pledging loyalty to a traitor and an adulteress. Not for the sake of an oath that was made BEFORE there was a firstborn son available to serve as heir.

Elmo set his jaw, remaining silent as they walked nearly a quarter mile further before softly asking, "Is it true that you offered peace terms to her, but she offered no such terms back to you?"

"It is," Aemond confirmed. "We have no desire to go to war with our half-sister. We offered to allow her to keep Dragonstone to pass on to her son, bastard or no. We offered places of honor in our court to her other children. We offered to allow her to keep her titles, her wealth, her dragons, and all the privileges due a princess. She didn't even deign to reply. She certainly made no counteroffer to us. She immediately started calling her banners to war." Snorting, Aemond gently touched his eyepatch. "I suppose they never were ones to take the civilized approach. But we have no desire to kill our own kin…"

Except Lucerys, but that was an accident! And Borros covered it up, so no one knows it was my fault.  

"Even after she sent assassins to murder my sister and her children, we will still allow her to sue for peace." 

His jaw gaped. "Sent assassins to murder the Queen? And her children?"

That prompted a full discussion of the assassination attempt, Aemond's words sending Elmo's eyes blazing as he ground his teeth. Kinslaying is the greatest taboo in all of Westeros, and to attempt to do it to children who were scarcely more than babes… 

"The Septon will bless your betrothal to my sister, Abby," Elmo declared as they headed back to Riverrun. "And you will wed her after this conflict is settled. I have your word that any children she bears for you will be given a dragon egg upon their birth?"

Aemond nodded. "They shall all share their cradles with eggs," he vowed.

And in exchange, Elmo bowed his head. "Then I shall honor my father's wishes. I shall start calling our banners and command them to ignore Daemon's attempts to summon them to Harrenhal. They will follow my command, not his. The Riverlands are yours, my Prince. And your brother's. The King."

Abby Tully was now accompanying him back to King's Landing for safekeeping during the war, and to spend some time getting to know her future husband's family.

He would not deny that Abby was a beautiful woman. Skin pure and white as ivory, save for an adorable dusting of freckles along her cheekbones. Stunning auburn hair that hung to her waist in gentle ringlets. Eyes green as emeralds. As beautiful as any non-Valyrian woman could possibly be…

And Aemond felt not one lick of attraction for her.

Marriage is not about love or desire, it is about duty, he reminded himself as the Crownlands came into view. I know I can perform my duty with her when it comes time for her to bear my children. And I know I can develop a respectful relationship with her. She has a likeable enough personality. It will be fine.

Better still, because Abby was not an heiress in her own right, she and Aemond would live out their lives at the Red Keep, with him serving as a dragon rider to his King.

It will be fine. My life won't change much now that I am betrothed. Everything will be fine…

Aegon

Jaehaerys looked over at Aegon excitedly as the dragon keepers quadruple checked the saddle. "I truly get to fly?" he asked, forgetting his princely dignity and hopping on the spot. "I truly get to fly, father? Just like you and Sunfyre?"

He knew it wasn't kingly, but he laughed at his son's exuberance. "Not exactly like Sunfyre and I. Not yet," he corrected. "Remember what we discussed? No more than a few feet off the ground, and not outside the eighth of a mile loop that the guards have marked for you. You need to build up your strength in the saddle before you can go further, and Shrykos needs to build up the strength in her wings before she can carry you."

But nonetheless, today would be a historic moment: the day the future Seventh King of the Seven Kingdoms flew on his dragon the first time. The day Jaehaerys and Jaehaera became the youngest dragon riders in their family's history at only six years old.

His mother and grandfather tried to talk him out of it, urging him to wait until the twins were older, and until three days ago, he was prepared to listen. But that was before the would-be assassins styling themselves Blood and Cheese slipped into the castle.

I nearly lost all three of them that night, he thought, his chest constricting painfully as he looked at his son's exuberance. And I still may. The war has yet to truly begin, and I don't know how ugly it might get.

As badly as he wished he could say that he guaranteed his children would survive, he couldn't. He would fight to his death to protect them, but he couldn't guarantee anyone's safety. But he could do this. He could ensure that his children got to savor these remaining days of safety.

And so he personally helped to lift both Jaehaera and Jaehaerys into the saddles of the waiting young dragons Shrykos and Morghul, fastened their safety chains, reviewed the commands with his twins one last time, and then gave his permission for them to start their low, short flights.

They're doing it! He cheered once the children were airborne. They're doing it! They're truly doing it!

Admittedly, it was a clumsy first flight. The twins were nervous giving the commands, and Shrykos and Morghul were anxious about ensuring the safety of their young passengers. But it was a flight! And after he gave permission for them to do a second lap, he saw that they were already starting to improve as they got the hang of it.

"They were born to fly," Helaena said, smiling as she stepped next to him with Maelor in her arms. Their youngest did not have a dragon yet, but Aegon was hopeful about his egg. It was warm, and every so often, Aegon could swear he saw it twitching.

"They were," he agreed, smiling back at her.

"It makes me feel a bit better," she said, gaze dropping. "About her going to Highgarden."

Aegon reached over to rub her shoulder as reassurance, but he stopped himself, remembering that touch was not the best way to do it.

"She'll love it there," he offered instead. "From what I hear, it's beautiful. Roses everywhere. Plenty of young girls her age to be her playmates…" He nodded towards Morghul. "And now a dragon to look over her on her journey."

Lord Borros's advice had proved fruitful once again. The Tyrells accepted their proposal, and Jaehaera was betrothed to the babe Lord Lyonel Tyrell. She would one day be the Lady of Highgarden, and the Tyrells had sworn fealty to Aegon, vowing to fight for him in the war. Jaehaera would soon be sent to her new home for the duration of the conflict to ensure her safety.

"I know she will be safe," Helaena agreed a bit tearfully. "Much safer than she would be if she remained in King's Landing. And as a benefit, we will be seeing Daeron very soon."

The thought of his youngest sibling made Aegon smile. I haven't seen Daeron in years.

"A relief for me," Helaena continued. "Until very recently, I…knew that I would never see our youngest brother again."

Aegon tensed. One of her Dreams?

"But now, I am certain he will. With the Tyrells supporting us, other Houses in the Reach will support us as well. I believe there will be a brief conflict, but Daeron's host from Oldtown will arrive to King's Landing quickly."

But before that, you feared we would never see Daeron again? He wasn't certain how to respond to that. He was still uncertain he believed Helaena was a Dreamer, but the fact that she harbored this fear for quite some time and never shared it with him was saddening.

"Another excellent benefit of the betrothal," Aegon encouraged. "Our daughter will be safe and happy in Highgarden. I know it."

Helaena nodded. "I know it as well. But I will miss her."

"You can visit her, Helaena," he promised. "Highgarden is not a far flight; you can fly Dreamfyre out for a visit any time you wish."

She nodded slowly. "I can…But I am hoping I will need to reduce the amount of time I spent flying."

Aegon frowned. But you love flying.

She waited until the twins landed their dragons and were safely unchained by the dragon keepers before finishing. "I would like another child."

He stiffened. I know you want five…and I know it is my duty as your husband and your King to give you as many as you wish…

Even so, the thought made his belly twist with dread.

In his twenty-two years of life, Aegon had bedded well over a hundred women and a handful of men (though admittedly, not after he started regularly bedding Aemond). He loved sex, of all varieties, with all sorts of partners…except with Helaena.

Helaena was beautiful, and Aegon did care for her, but she hated joining him in their marriage bed. She hated being caressed or kissed, and she'd flinch away from his touch if he held her for too long. The entire time he was 'doing his duty', she was stiff and tense, obviously forcing herself to lie still for the sake of bearing his children. And he hated it. Sex for him was about pleasure and the ego-boosting thrill he got from satisfying his partner. About feeling welcomed. Feeling desired. Feeling wanted. And with Aemond, it was an act of love and affection as well. With Helaena…well, Aegon had to get drunk to force himself to do it.

I suppose I can endure it. She got pregnant with Maelor quickly. We only needed to try…three times? No, it was four.

"As you wish," he agreed, smiling as the twins smiled and waved at them before their nursemaids escorted them back to the castle. "Perhaps a little sister for Jaehaera? We do already have two boys."

"Perhaps…" She looked over her shoulder to ensure the dragon keepers were out of earshot, gestured for one of the nursemaids to take Maelor, and then continued speaking in High Valyrian.

"I know it is your wish for me to…" She blushed. "To…enjoy the conception. And it is difficult for you when I don't."

He bristled and almost, almost rebuked her for implying he could not do his duty and sire more children, but he stopped himself.

She's reaching out to me, he reminded himself. This was what I wanted. More normal conversations with her. I have to do my part. And I do want her to be happy.

"Indeed," he agreed. "The entire reason that 'conception' feels the way it does is to drive us to procreate, after all. It's supposed to be…enjoyable. And if it's not…"

Then I'm not doing it right, and I feel like a monster for touching you when I know you don't like it.  

She smiled at him sweetly, more perceptive then he thought she was, and she reached over to gently stroke his arm.

"It wasn't all bad, Aegon," she assured him. "The problem is not with you. You may not remember because you were deep in your cups, but the last time we were together before Maelor's birth…well, it did feel quite nice towards the end."

I don't know if that's much of a compliment.

"I think…perhaps…" She blushed darker now, her face nearly magenta. "Perhaps…it would…help the process…if…um…"

He raised an eyebrow, meeting her gaze directly. "If there's something you wish for me to do to make the conception more enjoyable for you, Helaena, I will gladly do it."

And you don't need to be ashamed to ask. Gods know I have no shame. 

It took her a moment (and a few false starts) to work up the nerve to say it, and even then, she couldn't look him in the eye, but eventually she managed to half whisper:

"Perhaps…it would help the process if…if you were…to, um…'start' the act with…with someone else, and then…um…'complete' the act with me."

It was not at all what he was expecting, and he stared at her, half shocked, half amused. She was so embarrassed her face was redder than a fresh summer tomato, and…well, it was adorable.

She wants me to fuck someone else until I'm nearly ready to cum, then finish inside of her instead, he realized. Amusing that his sister had not simply advised him to take himself in hand for awhile first, but perhaps she wasn't aware that men often did such things.

A few months ago, he would have gladly accepted her offer, but that was before he was crowned. Before he made the commitment to be a better husband and father. Humiliating her that way would not make him a good husband.

"Helaena, the reason 'conception' is unpleasant for me is because you're not comfortable or enjoying it," he clarified. "I very much doubt you'd be anything close to comfortable if you had to be in the room while I 'started the act' with a stranger, and I know for certain that you'd be uncomfortable letting me 'finish the act' with you while that stranger was still in the room."

She started to nod, but then he saw a spark in her eyes, and in an instant, their gazes met, and he knew they shared the same thought.

What if it wasn't a stranger?

Almost as though it were timed by the gods themselves, a loud roar pierced through the sky above King's Landing, alerting them that Vhagar had returned home.

Rhaenyra

"NO!" Lord Bar Emmon cried as Ser Erryck Cargyll hauled him out of Dragonstone's throne room. "No! My Queen! Please! I swear, I had nothing to do with it! I would NEVER betray your secrets! I am loyal! I am loyal!!"

No, you are not, she thought, watching him coldly as Ser Erryck dragged him kicking and screaming to the dungeons. You sold my secrets to Borros Baratheon. You may have gotten my son killed. Even if Luke's death was an accident, I cannot trust you.

Rhaenys watched with a stoney expression as Lord Bar Emmon was removed. Perhaps from weariness. She had spent the last three days patrolling Corlys's ships at the Gullet and had not yet slept. She would be returning to the skies the day after tomorrow.

Corlys was not half so stone-faced as his wife. He stood, arms folded across his chest as he watched the spectacle. Only once he was out of the room did Corlys speak to her softly in High Valyrian.

"My Queen…are we certain he was guilty?"

She was. Before he left for the Vale, Jace had been interrogating the entire council (including lesser lords), and had made various charts and diagrams for her to follow.

When she, Daemon, and her council had made their plans to send Jace to the Vale and Luke to Storm's End, only twenty Lords and Knights had been in the room. There had been servants floating in and out, but Jace had already removed their names from consideration because they couldn't read or write, meaning it would be highly unlikely they would have been able to get a message to Lord Borros without involving another person.

Of the remaining twenty, Jace had sorted the list by order of who would benefit most greatly from having Rhaenyra as Queen, cross-referencing that list with the list of Lords who stood to lose the most if Aegon remained King.

That only left five names, a much more manageable number. From that shorter list, only one had been to the rookery in time to send a raven to Storm's End. Lord Bar Emmon.

Obvious, really, she thought. He was one of the only council members who tried to get me to counter Aegon's initial offer to ask for more. Meaning he wanted me to bend the knee.

"Sharp Point has long been loyal to your house, Your Grace," Corlys said hesitantly. "Might we at least…consider having a trial for him…"

"There is no need, and there is no time," she dismissed. "There is no one else it could possibly be, and someone sold my secrets."

And if he is responsible for the death of my son, I need to know. I need to know how Lucerys died. I need to know if it was an accident or if it was deliberate.

But for now, she needed to focus on her council.

"I have received no word from Daemon," she said, looking at the table and gesturing towards Harrenhal. "I know he has claimed the castle, but we have not received any word on which Riverlands Houses he has managed to recruit."

Corlys looked towards the hall for half a second longer, a worried look in his eyes, but he blinked it away, setting his gaze towards the table as well.

"Daemon only took Harrenhal a few days ago, your grace," Corlys said. "Even with Caraxes, it will take him time to gather your swords. He should return to Dragonstone soon to check in. But in the meantime…"

He gestured his hands towards Duskendale and Rook's Rest. "Your bannermen are gathering their swords, and they are a mere stone's throw from King's Landing. Prince Jacaerys has entered into negotiations with Lady Jeyne Arryn of the Vale, and she has over ten thousand fighting men to offer."

She stared at the map. We control the Gullet, she thought. If we can bring in Lady Jeyne's soldiers by sea, and House Darklyn and House Staunton can assist us in surrounding King's Landing by land, we may be able to completely cut off their supply lines before any of their allies from the Reach or from the Westerlands can reach them. Surely some Houses in the Reach will prove loyal to me, even with their connections to House Hightower…

"My Queen!" Maester Gerardys cried, running into the throne room with a furled letter in his hand. "A message on the orders of your brother."

My half-brother, she silently corrected, gesturing for Gerardys to read the letter. My traitor half-brother who stole my throne…and who may or may not be complicit in the death of my son.

But as the maester began to read…

Princess Rhaenyra,

It is my desire that this mounting dispute between your faction and mine ends before it erupts into full-blown war. If you insist on war, my loyal soldiers will fight to the last warrior. They fight for their true king, and for my heirs. But it is my duty as king to first exhaust all avenues of peace. Even after what you tried to do to my family.

Under interrogation, your assassin revealed the truth: that he was hired by Daemon to kill my heirs. That he was commanded by Daemon to rip innocent children from their mother's arms and butcher them in front of her. Your actions sicken me, but by the mercy of the gods, no harm came to them. For the sake of the well-being of the realm, I am willing to leave justice in the hands of the gods as well.

My offer to you still stands, and I urge you to take it. You do not understand the horror that comes with war. The agony and despair of the innocent that will follow on the heels of Fire and Blood. For their sake, sister, accept my offer and bend the knee. Enjoy a life of wealth, luxury, and privilege with your remaining children. We need never see each other again afterwards.

But if you refuse, I will show you no mercy. And you will suffer the consequences a hundred-fold for what you tried to do to my children.

King Aegon Targaryen, Second of His Name, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men. Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm.

The throne room was silent as a tomb, and she felt the eyes of each and every person from servant to Lord staring at her in wide-eyed disbelief. Her own eyes were wide, jaw clenched as she absorbed what Gerardys had read.

Daemon sent assassins after Aegon's children?

She had commanded him not to act. He had betrayed her. He had attempted kinslaying, and now her entire council would believe she was complicit in the attempt as well.

No…I never wanted this! I am no kinslayer! I don't even know what happened to Luke. Even if I was going to act, I would send assassins after him, not his children. They are scarcely more than babes…

It was as though a once-beloved dog had suddenly turned feral, biting the face of the owner it happily played with only the day before.

I knew Daemon had a dark side. With mine own eyes, I've seen it. I've seen his violence. The dragon lurking within. But this…this was something else entirely. Sending assassins to rip a babe from its mother's arms was just…evil.

And now the world would think that same evil lurked within her.

But she couldn't declare her own innocence without denouncing Daemon as a traitor and a would-be kinslayer. Without Daemon, she might as well not even try to fight her brother. Though revulsion coiled in her gut at the thought of what he'd tried to do, the thought of not having Daemon by her side made her chest tighten.

Beside her, she felt Corlys shifting. "Far more rational than I believed him capable of," he mused, taking the letter from Gerardys to re-read it. "I can't imagine that I'd react half so rationally if assassins were sent to kill my children. Perhaps Ser Otto wrote it for him?"

"Whoever wrote it, my Lord, Aegon was the one who signed it," Gerardys said. "I recognize his signature."

From behind Corlys, Rhaenys shifted. "I don't believe Aegon wrote it," she reasoned. "He's twenty-two years old, a pampered prince who believes himself untouchable. He has a dragon's temper, and he was born in a time of peace with no concept of what war is really like. He would still see war as an opportunity for glory." Rhaenys tapped the letter in Corlys's hands. "This was written by a battle veteran. Someone who knows firsthand how ugly war is and wants to avoid it."

Corlys nodded slowly. "I agree, but…does Aegon have a battle veteran on his council?"

"Ser Criston Cole," Rhaenyra said. "He's seen combat in the Stormlands."

But that letter doesn't sound like Criston at all… 

"Whoever it was, they have a point, your grace," Corlys agreed. "We have yet to attempt to offer peace terms to your half-brother. I understand that you wish to understand our strengths and weaknesses before we do, or perhaps to even get them into a stranglehold, but perhaps if we at least make an initial offer, a low offer, it shows your brother that we are amenable to peace as well. With this letter, Aegon will come across to the realm as the more rational of the two of you. The one who wants to keep the peace. If we do not make an attempt as well, it will make us look like the villains."

"And you were the one who was usurped," Rhaenys encouraged. "You were the one who was robbed. They are the ones who started his conflict and perhaps killed your son. It will not serve to have your half-brother pretend to be the calm, rational, peace-keeping victim."

"As he is pretending to be a king," a voice from the back of the hall called. 

No, it will not serve, Rhaenyra silently agreed.

"Send an initial offer," she commanded to her maester. "I will allow them to surrender their dragons and return to Oldtown unharmed, if they bend the knee."

The maester hesitated. "The likelihood that they will accept…"

"I do not expect my brother to accept," she agreed. "I would be shocked if he did. But it gives us a starting point for negotiations. They can ask for more if they wish, and I will consider it. And I can always make a better offer later once we finish assessing our strengths."

But for now, I need to get to Syrax, she thought, dismissing her council and retreating to her chambers to change into her riding clothes. It is a long flight to Harrenhal, and I wish to get there before dark. Daemon will explain why in the Seven Hells he disobeyed me…and potentially cost us allies if word gets out that we attempted kinslaying.