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A young girl of no more than seven summers, with hair full of silver and gold and eyes a beautiful violet, was hiding in a cave full of black rocks, a cave that roars with the sound of dragons as the heat soothes the girl’s distress. 

“Rhaenys”, a voice whispers as an older girl comes into view to kneel before her, her hair is silver and silky, her eyes a sharp lilac that soften when she looks at the girl in front of her. 

“What are you doing here?”, the younger one asks.

“I feel like it is I who should be asking that, is it not?”, the older girl answers and the young one scoffs. 

“Father has been speaking about marriage to mother, he says that when I’m grown I will marry some Lord”, she pouts. 

“You mustn’t worry, if that Lord displeases you, then he shall meet  the end of my sword”, the silver haired girl says. 

“But I do not wish to marry. I want to be a warrior like you when I’m grown, sister”, the violet eyed girl says as she looks up at the older girl with adoration, as if she was the sun. 

“And you shall be one, my sweet. You mustn’t worry about marriage, it is but a duty”, the older girl answers her. 

“Why can’t people marry for love?”, the young girl asks, her violet eyes filling with tears and the older girl hugs her, taking her into her arms as she carries her out of the cave, her voice soothing as she speaks:

“It is not the way of the world. People must marry for duty and alliances. But we are dragons, are we not? Don’t worry, sister, all will be alright”

“You won’t leave me, right?”, the young girl asks with a tremor in her voice as she embraced the older girl that was carrying her. 

“I will never leave you. And even when I’m not near, even if I get lost, the fire in the stars shall guide me back to you”, she promises. 

The other girl giggles, hiding her face on the older girl’s neck, her sweet and innocent voice filling the air one last time:

“I wish I could marry you, Visenya”

Sir Criston Cole has pledged his life to protect the royal family ever since Her Highness, Princess Rhaenyra, a fierce girl of four and ten whom everyone believed was a beta, knighted him after wearing her favour and defeating her uncle, The Rogue Prince himself. 

He remembers the girl she was: bold and fierceless, easy to anger –never forgetting a slight–, quick-witted yet easily distracted –the then Lady Alicent being the only person within the keep who was able to stop the Princess from flying to high, the only to stop her from flying away without direction.

But then Queen Aemma died, and Princess Rhaenyra's life shattered due to the ambitions of two men. 

“Daughter. Have I ever told you the story of Queen Rhaenys and Queen Visenya?”, King Viserys asked his daughter the night before the ceremony that would see her become the heir of the Seven Kingdoms. 

“Yes, Father. Everyone knows the tale about Aegon The Conqueror’s wives, both of them every inch warriors, like he was”, the princess answers with confusion. Her father was just speaking about the prophecy, of the song of ice and fire. So it is no surprise that his unrelated question makes her believe for a moment that he has lost his wits. 

“They were, theirs was the blood of the dragon just as thick as Aegon's, but they were much more”

“What do you mean, father?” , the soon to become heir of the Seven Kingdoms asks him. 

“Queen Rhaenys was a wilful woman. She was charismatic, kindhearted, beautiful and impulsive as only those whose blood of the dragon flows inside their veins can be. She was an omega, the mother of our line”, he explains as he looks at the remains of the mighty Balerion, the black dread -the mount of the man who made them Kings as well as the mount of the cruel man who showed the Faith the true meaning of fire and blood, the mount of the girl whose disappearance later led to her death.

The dragon that he himself had the chance to claim –only for him to die the next year due to his old age, all while the snakes inside the keep whispered about how he was an unworthy prince. 

“I’m aware, father. King Aegon was an alpha, the father of our line. While his older sister, the fierce Queen Visenya, became his protector even when she was a beta”, Princess Rhaenyra scoffed, wrinkling her nose in displeasure at the reminder of the history lessons with hers and Alicent’s septa. 

“So the books say. And yet Queen Visenya’s behaviour screamed that she might as well had been an alpha”, the King whispers. 

“What are you saying, father?” 

“This is a secret as old as Aegon’s dream, and you must never repeat this to anyone who doesn’t share our blood, Rhaenyra. Do you swear it?”

“I-I don’t understand, father”, she stutters. 

“Swear it, Rhaenyra” – he insists. 

“I swear it, father” 

Lady Alicent was Princess Rhaenyra’s anchor, the safety of the ground beneath the Princess’ feet, but most importantly, she was her compass -guiding her as the stars guide lost travellers as they drift in the unforgiving sea –praying for the gods for a sign as they hope to live for another day. 

Sir Criston remembers that day clearly, how the Princess ran and ran until she reached the Godswoon, how Lady Alicent chased after her with tears falling from her misty green eyes, how one of them screamed while the other pleaded –how the heart tree wept blood upon witnessing the breaking of two hearts that beat as one. 

King Viserys made his choice, making his daughter cry, rage and break... and in the middle of the night Princess Rhaenyra soared the skies as she searched for her North Star in an empty sky, and when the morrow came, she flew too close to the sun. 

And Princess Rhaenyra burned. 

“Queen Visenya was the eldest of her siblings, betrothed to her brother ever since he was but a babe, as it was her right” , he starts explaining, sighing once before continuing, “her little brother respected her even if he was closer to his other sister. And her sister, Rhaenys, admired her” 

“What does this has to do with Aegon’s dream, father?” , the Princess asked him and King Viserys turned to look at her with a grim expression on his face.

“Everything. It has everything to do with it, my child. There was a complication, for Queen Visenya presented as an alpha on the eve of her four and ten named day”

“That is not possible, father. Queen Visenya was the wife of King Aegon, the mother of Maegor. Everybody knows this, it is a fact” 

“Is it truly? Maegor had Visenya’s blood, he was a borne by a Targaryen and sired by a Targaryen, but Visenya wasn’t his mother”, he tells her, and the princess is left speechless, her breath leaving her lungs at the implications of her father’s words. 

“Aegon dreamed of an icy threat that will come from north, he saw both of his sisters at his side as he united the realm. And so he married Visenya out of duty, an alpha like him, even if their line would never bear fruit. But he also married Rhaenys out of love. He loved his sisters, and Rhaenys always looked at Visenya as if she was the sun itself” 

They found her the following day, the golden and bronze dragon landing on the Godswood as lightning hitting the ground. All of the Kingsguard rushing to the scene as King Viserys, Prince Daemon and Lord Hightower followed behind.

It was inferno, the dragon growling and spitting fire as if it was an spurned goddess unleashing her wrath, the Kingsguard afraid to make a wrong movement to reach the unconscious girl laying beside the beast. Prince Daemon’s thunderous voice filling the woods as he ordered the men to step aside while he pleaded with the fire beast –his voice low yet firm as he spoke commands in High Valyrian to calm the dark golden dragon. 

But he was unsuccessful, and Syrax breathed fire again, the trees burning with her rage as King Viserys was held back from trying to reach his only child by Lord Hightower, who ordered the guards to protect His Grace –and Sir Criston might have imagined it, but for a moment the shocked face of The Lord Hand gave away hidden malice when he saw how close the girl was to truly burn. 

Sir Criston felt paralysed, his body not moving even when his mind was shouting at him to do something, only able to look around to see King Viserys almost wailing in distress, Prince Daemon screaming to the nearby frightened servants to fetch war, fetch sand, anything to make the fire stop as he ran out the woods while muttering about time and getting Caraxes. 

The flames grew bigger, the heat was almost unbearable, and everything seemed hopeless, until she appeared. 

Sir Criston remembers it clearly, Lord Hightower shouting a woman’s name as a flash of light blue ran towards the fire, straight towards the dragon. The mighty beast turning sharply to burn the one who dared to come close to her rider –slit pupils with bright green irises meeting the terrified yet desperate eyes of a girl of five and ten as a growl that shook the earth to its foundations came out of the winged beast.

But Lady Alicent didn’t waver, she stood her ground as the dragon roared, her eyes closed and yet her body tried to reach the princess'. 

And Syrax flew away. 

“What exactly are you implying, father? Surely that is a vile rumour, like those who say that Rhaena’s daughters were sired by her close companion who later abandoned her after stealing from her”, she asks, but he ignores her and continues speaking. 

“He needed to have both of his sisters by his side, Rhaenyra, he knew that from his blood would come the one that was promised, the one who will defeat the dark against the cold. But the Seven Kingdoms, the Faith, deemed an alpha woman as an abomination, and so he married Visenya, and then he made sure she was to be remembered as a beta” 

“Even if that were true, what does it matter? Maegor The Cruel is death, we come from Aegon and Rhaenys’ line?”, she asks again, exasperated

“Don’t you see, Rhaenyra? Rhaenys looked at Visenya as if she were the sun, but Visenya looked at her as if she were the brightest star. Maegor and Aenys had her blood, yes, but she wasn’t his mother nor was she his aunt. She was their sire” , he confesses and Rhaenyra recoils with shock, unable to believe her father’s words. 

He’s gone mad, he’s speaking non-sense, and yet there most be some truth to his words. She knows the story, she knows how people whispered that Aegon was unable to sire children, how a grief-stricken and enraged Visenya reacted after her sister’s death, burning Dorne to the ground even when people whispered that they despised each other, how she never truly tried to get rid of Aenys even when she believed him to be weak, how she didn’t kill Jaehaerys nor Alyssane when they were her hostages and a threat to Maegor’s claim. And how Maegor, a monster, is said to have loved his brother, and even named his great-nice his heir after murdering her known father. 

But those are coincides, it cannot be truth. 

“This is madness, father. If what you say is true, the the prophecy will never be truly fulfilled as Aegon’s line died with him”

“My grandsire, King Jaehaerys, told me this secret after the Council declared me heir, Rhaenyra. Why would he lie? He hated Maegor and resented Visenya. You see, my child, Aegon dreamed of his blood being the key to his song, a Targaryen must always sit on the throne, and what were Visenya and Rhaenys, if not his own flesh and blood?” 

Sir Criston might have swore to never take a wife, to never father children, and yet as he saw the girl not leaving the unconscious princess’ side despite her father’s protests and disapproving stare –Lady Alicent muttering the princess’ name with devotion, drying a sweat drenched forehead as her bloodied hands caressed a silver brow—, he knew that what he was witnessing was love. 

How could the King be so blind? How could the Lord Hand be so vile? 

And when Greatmaester Melos finished his examination, his hands shaking, his brow furred and his eyes confused, he announced that the princess had presented.

Not as an omega as a proper lady should be, not even as a beta, but as an alpha. A female alpha, like Queen Visenya Targaryen was rumoured to have been even if the history records disagree. 

He closed his eyes at the revelation while repeating to himself that she was the same girl he vowed to protect. And when Sir Criston opened his dark eyes, he saw the teary hopeful eyes of Lady Alicent, the flabbergasted face of Lord Hightower, looking at the heir’s form as if he had underestimated her –as if he had miscalculated.

Greatmaester Mellos looked upset –almost disgusted–, Prince Daemon Targaryen was grinning ear to ear -she has the blood of the dragon, I told you so, he said to his brother–, but King Viserys was looking at his daughter with pure wonder as if he was finally truly seeing her for the very first time, yet he didn’t seem surprised in the slightest by the revelation. 

Female alphas were extremely rare, an abomination and creatures of lust and sin according to the Faith, but King Viserys looked at his daughter as if she was divine, as if he always dreamed of her, as if she was his salvation.  

“A wise man once told me that the truth doesn’t matter, Rhaenyra, only what the people believe”

“Then why are you telling me all this? You say it doesn’t matter, but our whole history is built on a lie!”, she shouts.

“My girl, my only child. I told you this because I believe you take after her. After our ancestor, after Visenya”, he says and sees how her daughter flushes with indignation, only to later straighten her back with pride, her eyes full of excitement –his daughter has always admired Queen Visenya. 

“Do you truly think so, father?”

“Yes, Rhaenyra. You are fearless, you are strong. You are the youngest dragonrider in history, the blood of the dragon runs thick in you. People would have never accepted Visenya as their Queen, even if it was her right as the eldest of her siblings, even if she was an alpha”, he whispers with fondness, “but you, my child, you are my heir”

“Do you really believe I could be like her, father?”, she asks with uncertainty, because how could possible match Queen Visenya? An alpha, a Queen, while she herself is but a beta that is only to be named heir because her father wanted to spurn her uncle Daemon

“No, Rhaenyra. Visenya lost her way. She lost herself when Rhaenys died, but you will not. I don’t think you can be like her, but I believe you can be better”, he says as he hugs her tightly. 

“The union of two Targaryen lines, of our ancestors blood, ensured we would be able be here right now. Our blood is strong, and from your blood the prince that was promised will come. My grandsire made me a king, but his decision dived us. We Targaryen must always be united. You will be Queen, Rhaenyra, and after you, your children will rule”

Prince Daemon leaves his niece’s chamber with a grin on his face, boasting to everyone within earshot that his nice is an alpha just like him and about how she is to be a powerful queen and that it must be celebrated.

Grandmaester Melos leaves after him, King Viserys dismissing him, yet the maester looks up to see Lord Hightower nod in permission. 

Sir Criston saw how Lady Alicent fell asleep beside the Princess, never leaving her side, never letting go of her. Her father, Lord Otto, was displeased, calling one of his guards to carry her back to her chambers if necessary, for it was unbecoming that an alpha and omega were in such close proximity. 

But King Viserys dismissed his concerns, saying that it was fine, that the girl’s were alway close and that Lady Alicent was pivotal in rescuing his daughter -your girl has tamed a dragon, Otto, the king said-. 

Yet the Lord Hand still protested, urging the king to see the dangers of such situation, how it wasn’t proper for his maiden daughter, who was to be his bride, to spend the night inside the princess’ chambers.

King Viserys laughed, stating that such concern was ridiculous, explaining him the girls have known each other since they were children, that they are used to share the same space and that where one goes, the other always follows. 

And then his eyes grew serious, looking at the way Lady Alicent, sleeping with half of her body almost atop the Princess, holds onto the other girl’s hand as if she's her lifeline into her smaller one, and when he speaks, there’s something in his tone that Criston doesn’t understand: 

“They are to be family, after all, Otto”

Lord Hightower preens at the reminder of his daughter’s upcoming marriage, at the reminder that she is to become a Queen and that her sons shall seat on the throne. Then he straightens himself, his mouth opening once again as he is about to protest again about the girls situation, but the king is faster, his tone dark as he speaks once more.

“You forget yourself, Otto. You shall not question your king’s decisions” 

They both look at the two girls holding hands, Lord Hightower with a scowl on his face and a calculating look in his dark eyes, while King Viserys looks at them with sadness in his purple eyes before he looks away with a resolute look on his face. 

The day of the dreadful wedding arrives, and Sir Criston admits that this is the first time he has ever been present in a royal wedding, but even he knows that this is unbecoming –the ceremony is extremely small, the music is more fit to a funeral than a wedding, the food is not as plenty as one would expect for a royal wedding, the guests look uncomfortable yet eager for gossip, the Velaryons and the Arryns refused to come.

The king is ignoring his child bride and he looks like he would rather be anywhere else as his dark purple –almost blue– eyes search for his also absentee daughter and brother. The bride, the now Queen Alicent, looks like a child wearing the clothing of a woman –a beautiful white dress, her hair in an intricate style, a small and simple crown on top of her head –one that is not the same the late Queen Aemma used to wear-. 

The Queen's eyes look red and misty and she’s wearing gloves to cover her bloodied fingertips.

She looks devastated, as if something or someone was taken from her, as if a piece of her heart was ripped off from her chest –and yet he cannot help but notice there’s something off about her, something different. 

The High Septon was in surprisingly good spirits, and the only ones that lookeed truly thrilled to be here were the Hightowers, all of them dressed in green from head to toe while Lord Hobert loudly and drunkly cheers, and even having the gall to make a distasteful comment as he calls for the bedding ceremony as more voices fill the air to agree with him.

King Viserys roars then, stating that there will be no bedding ceremony. 

The princess' wedding is entirely different, King Viserys and Lord Corlys spending countless thousands and thousands of gold dragons to ensure the ceremony is the event of the century –the castle is richly adorned, the food is exquisite and there is plenty, the castle is full of guests of every single mayor House in the realm, bards from Essos were hired to perform, fine gifts are to be given to the guests, and Lord Corlys is said to be so happy that he refused to ask for a dowry –it is not necessary, we shall be family at last, Your Grace, he told King Viserys. 

The feast is so grand that he is sure that there’s enough food to feed all of Kingslanding. The King is proudly giving a speech about how the union between his daughter and heir, Princess Rhaenyra, and the now Princess Laena Velaryon –the future Queen Consort of Westeros– is one of the most joyous occasions of his life besides the day his daughter was born.

And everyone but the Hightowers cheer. Lord Corlys looks as if he is about to call for their head as Prince Daemon looks at them with revulsion and contempt, while Princess Rhaenys' sharp eyes look up at the front door when Queen Alicent suddenly appears, entering the hall in the midst of the King’s speech as the man frowns at the interruption. 

Everyone starts muttering about war and he can see why: the Queen is dressed in green from her head to her toes, looking so stunning that she leaves everyone speechless for a moment -and he can see Princess Rhaenyra’s breath catching while Princess Rhaenys and Princess Laena look at the Queen, one raising a brown while the other looks impressed. 

The Hightowers stand and nod their approval, bowing with deference when she walks beside them. And for the first time in the night Lord Otto Hightower looks pleased. 

The feast is extremely lively and enjoyable even when the royal table is filled with tension. Princess Laena and Princess Rhaenyra dancing and dancing as Lord Corlys and King Viserys look at them with pride, Queen Alicent’s back is straight, her posture tense and there’s a frown and a scowl that she cannot seem to be fully able to hide when she looks at the happy couple.

And Princess Rhaenys looks at the Queen with intelligent violet eyes, looking for something that she seems to find when the Queen’s children grace the celebration with their brief presence. She turns to looks at her husband, Lord Corlys and at her cousin, King Viserys, with a questioning look, but the Lord of Driftmark just scoffs and King Viserys refuses to look at her. 

The wedding is a success, until Ser Joffrey runs his mouth with his filthy and vile lies –commenting about Targaryen queer customs and how much Princess Helaena looks like his half-sister, jesting about how he wouldn’t be surprised if the Princess was actually more related to the Queen’s babe. 

He is the Princess’ protector, he only did what he was sworn to do.

He must admit that he was blinded by rage, and maybe he would be inside a cell waiting for his trial if not for Ser Harwin and Prince Daemon holding him back, but he couldn’t let such infamy reach anyone’s ears –half the kingdom was present, how does that vile man even dare to think such blasphemy–.

To even dare to question the honour of the Princess and the Queen, to imply such acts, is treason. 

Ser Joffrey had to be punished. 

He will live, the maesters said, but his jaw was broken to the point that he will never speak again. 

The Velaryon’s are outraged and calling for his head, King Viserys is furious, even more so than his brother, Princess Laena is busy consoling her brother instead of fulfilling her duty and Queen Alicent is shocked and looking at him with pity –she has heard the rumours, he’s sure of it–. 

But what truly hurts is the fact that Princess Rhaenyra has decided to relieve him from her service.

He is not be her sworn shield anymore. 

He pleads his case, telling them about how Ser Joffrey was speaking treasonous things and how he was only fulfilling his duty. They ask him to repeat such treasonous words so they can understand why he acted so violently, but he vehemently refuses. 

He will not tell them, rumours are as dangerous as truths.

Lord Hightower is the one that convinces the king to let him keep his position, and for that he is grateful –but he cannot forget the pain he has caused his daughter and his princess.

The princess is to leave today with her new wife, to start a family –uncaring if she’s leaving one behind–.

She will leave Kingslanding in a few candlemarks, flying away to see the world as she and Lady Laena travel all over the world –Volantis, Pentos, Lys, Braavos, they will see all those cities and many more–.

And yet, as Princess Rhaenyra is about to ride to the dragonpit, she calls for him one last time. 

“Sir Criston, you have been a friend to me, a confidant, and a protector. I freed you from your vow to me, but I must ask one more thing from you” –the princess, the girl he swore to protect tells him and he wants to scream.

She is leaving, leaving him, leaving her family behind, leaving everyone and everyone that cares about her behind, as if they mean nothing to her. 

She’s not the girl he knew, that girl was brave, she would never run away. 

But he has known her since she was a girl, she made him who he is now, she gave him a chance, she gave him a purpose, and so he nods stiffly. The princess looks behind his shoulder, her lilac eyes finding the betrayed ones of the queen who is watching her as she leaves. “Will you look after her, after them, Sir Criston?”, she says as she looks at the queen and her two small children, a toddler and a babe –her family, the one she is dishonourably leaving behind.

“I will, princess. I swear it”, he tells her, and even when his heart grows with resentment he truly means it, because in those children there’s a part of the girl he admired.

The part that reminds him of her before the Princess lost her way.

And when the princess leaves, and he vows to protect the Queen and her children, no matter the cost. 

Night comes and he is standing guard outside the queen’s chambers. He can hear her sobbing as she cries herself to sleep, but then a flash of silver hair and dark purple eyes stands before him as King Viserys arrives, his face is unreadable and there are two maids behind him carrying the young Prince and the little Princess. 

“I believe the children could provide the queen some solace”, he says before nodding to the maids to enter his wife’s chambers. He then turns around and leaves without another word. 

But he was wrong, the king was wrong.

The presence of her children breaks the queen even more –her face shattering, her eyes filling with pain and regret when she sees Prince Aegon, the toddler trying to unsuccessfully console his mother. The Queen’s sobs growing as she hugs Princess Helaena as if she’s the last piece binding her to earth itself. 

And he cannot do anything, he feels as hopeless as when Princess Rhaenyra was trapped in the burning woods all those years ago. He can only stand and quietly watch as a child tries to sooth the young woman that gave him life when she was still a child herself as said girl hugs her other child. 

He can see why the Queen clings to her daughter. She’s the spitting image of her –all silver and gold haired and lilac eyed with freckles adorning her porcelain skin–.

Prince Aegon looks favour his mother even if he has the Targaryen's colouring –hair of silver and gold and lilac eyes like his sister–, and yet when he sees the boy, he can also see traces of her too, hidden, but they are there. 

It feels as if the Gods are playing a twisted game with how much the Queen’s children look like their sister, not truly looking like their father, the king, at all. 

They call His Grace, Viserys The Peaceful, but he cannot help but think that they should call him Viserys The Cruel, for not even blindness can excuse his actions. 

Queen Alicent gives birth to a healthy boy on the seventh moon after Princess Rhaenyra’s departure. 

The labour is easy enough even when the babe is quite early –or so the maesters say, some whisper that the Queen called for the princess instead of her husband as she was giving life to her son. The babe is a bit smaller than his brother was, yet surprisingly bigger than he should be for a child born 2 moons early, his face is all freckled, his head covered with silver and gold and his eyes a beautiful lilac.

The Queen gave birth to a boy the spitting image of his half-sister as she called for her, but such deliriums are the effect the milk of the poppy has, and it is not truly surprising that a Targaryen looks like a Targaryen. 

King Viserys was informed of the birth, but as with the previous two children his wife bore for his house, he doesn’t come to see him nor he bother's to name him.  

Lord Hightower does come to see his daughter, and his face is full of fury when he sees his new grandchild for the first time. But Queen Alicent doesn’t flinch, she stands her ground just like she did all those years ago when she was but a girl of five and ten facing the wrath of an enraged dragon, and when the maesters tell her how strong and healthy her babe is, she beams with pride and states that he is just like his sire. 

Sir Criston doesn’t understand her words –or maybe he doesn’t allow himself to think about them–.

King Viserys is many things, but the only strength he could have had left him the day his first daughter was born –my only child, he calls her still sometimes, the ghost of Queen Aemma still living inside his mind. 

Many summers have passed and princess Rhaenyra rarely visits the Keep, too busy with her family –she has sired two boys and two girls already, and if the rumours are to true, her wife is with child once again–, so when the news of Sir Laenor’s death arrives another summer later, they go to Driftmark by sea with Prince Aegon and Princess Helaena following them on dragon back while Prince Aemond looks up to the sky and sees his siblings fly, his lilac eyes full of frustration, full of sorrow. 

The funeral is almost uneventful, and yet the grip on his sword tightens every time Lord Vaemond looks at his Queen and her children with disgust, commenting on how Valyrian blood –Velaryon blood– is the only who runs true. 

Princess Laena is shattered by her brother’s death, her wife –Princess Rhaenyra is a grown woman now, taller than him and a strong alpha, a sire– and her children beside her as they all try sooth and console her. 

Princess Rhaenys is holding onto the babe, Joffrey, as if he doesn’t want to let him go –people say that he was Ser Laenor’s favourite nephew, that he named him himself. 

Prince Lucerys walks to his grandsire then, taking Lord Corlys’ hand into his little one in an attempt to make the man feel better. He succeeds, as Lord Corlys kneels in front of him –and Sir Criston is surprised to see that such a proud and entitled man is even capable of kneeling to anyone–, telling him that he is to be the Lord of Driftmark now. The prince hugs him back, answering that he doesn’t want it if it means everyone has to die. 

And when the night comes, Prince Aemond looses his eye. 

They have been here, with the Velaryons, for almost a moon after the incident, but the king seems to finally be recovering since maester Gerardys took over after Princess Rhaenyra dismissed Greatmaester Melos, much the Lord Hand’s dismay. 

The Queen seems to be avoiding any type of contact with Princess Rhaenyra and Princess Laena, who have been spending almost all their free time with all of the children –breaking fast with them, flying with them, teaching them about Old Valyria, dining with them– to the point that even Princess Rhaenys and Prince Daemon have taken to joining them, much to Lord Corlys’ displeasure. 

 And he cannot help but feel bitter. 

The Princess left the once, and now she comes back as if nothing ever happened. She’s not the girl he knew, and he’s sure that she’s going to break her siblings heart when she leaves them again.

The children look so happy to finally have her attention, to finally have a family, but Princess Rhaenyra is bound to shatter their hopes eventually.

He must protect them.

He swore it to the girl that was once his protégée, that girl is long gone, but he is a man of honour and he will keep his vow to her. 

The Queen is extremely anxious when she tells him of her request –to dress in common clothing and take her handmaiden to town, only to ask him the following morrow to help her out of Hightide in the middle of the night, to go to the village below–, so he obeys. 

They arrive to an old woman’s house, and he and the queen’s maid escort her to the outskirts of the castle at the hour of the wolf into a nearby abandoned shack. 

The Queen is also covered from head to toe, none of her features recognisable as a black hood covers most of her face. She orders him to stay and guard the door and so he does. 

Half a candle mark passes by, and he is starting to get worried until the old woman opens the door while she carrying a bag full of gold, only for the Queen and her lady to step outside a moment later –Queen Alicent looks as if she’s about to faint, her hands picking on her fingers nervously, yet she stops after a few moments and he can see the worry in her eyes... But there’s something else, there’s excitement and happiness on her face that he hasn't seen in her in a long time as her hand unconsciously touches her belly. 

It is not his place to question her. 

Queen Alicent Hightower walks to her husband chambers the following morrow while Princess Laena and Princess Rhaenyra are out of Hightide –as they had to fetch some scrolls from Dragonstone while promising the children that they can fly with them the following day after they return–.

The Queen pleads with the King that it is time for them to leave Driftmark and he refuses at first, his breath laboured when he asks her the reason for such request.

She doesn’t answer him, but keeps on insisting that it is time for them to go back as they have overstayed their welcome already, and the sense of urgency in his wife’s voice is so grand that King Viserys agrees that they should return to Kingslanding at once. 

They travel back by ship that same day even when the Queen’s children loudly protest, Lord Corlys and Princess Rhaenys asking them as well to stay-. They leave Driftmark behind with a suddenness that seems inexplicable.

Queen Alicent falls ill as they travel back, she's nauseous and she refuses to eat as most food and the smell of fish makes her sick.

She blames the sea.