Aella Targaryen wed on the anniversary of her father's death. To her cousin, nonetheless, continuing the long-standing tradition of her family to marry their relatives. It was a day that was meant to bring joy and overshadow the sorrow that had purs...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
And suddenly, sadness turned to anger
°•~━━✥❖✥━━~•°
It took two days for the consequences of Daemon's theft to reach Dragonstone. Otto Hightower disembarked on the shores early that morning with the sun bright upon the horizon. Several Kingsguard knights accompanied him. Along came a retinue of other guards and knights.
Daemon didn't hesitate to meet him on the stone pathway leading up to the castle, his gold cloaks behind him. His mistress decided to accompany him as well. The loose white fabric of her gown billowed in the wind. The two parties approached each other in silence, but Rhaegon could see the anger and contempt on Daemon and Otto's faces. He half wished he'd stayed back in the castle and enjoyed his morning instead of getting involved, but his sense of duty required him to attend.
The years of enmity between Daemon and King's Hand would likely come to a head. The collision would be chaotic and dangerous. Rhaegon wanted to do everything in his power to stop such a thing from happening. Or, at the very least, soften the blow. His family was present, and he didn't want them to witness the bloodbath that could occur.
The sun's glare made him squint as he trudged the walkway behind Daemon. Despite the clear sky, the air contained a chill. He was happy he'd decided to wear a leather vest instead of the usual silk doublet. He could hear the crashing of waves against rock somewhere below him. On the other side of the walkway, Otto Hightower approached them. The green velvet of his doublet shined in the sun, and Rhaegon took note of the plackart that protected his abdomen. Chainmail hung from his arms, and his cloak billowed in the wind, revealing the sheathed sword at his waist. A helmet rested in his hand.
It was clear he was expecting a fight.
The two parties stopped a few feet away from each other. A moment of silence passed between them. Rhaegon stood a little behind Daemon but still in front of the gold cloaks. The bronze-coloured egg was clutched in Daemon's hand, a taunt meant to rile Otto up. Rhaegon would've protested against bringing the egg out had he thought Daemon might listen to him.
"Welcome to Dragonstone, Otto," Daemon greeted the man before him, purposefully neglecting his official title. Rhaegon was glad when Otto ignored the slight and focused on what he'd come here to do.
"Your occupation of this island is at an end," he proclaimed loudly so everyone would hear. "You're to relinquish the dragon egg, disband your army, banish your whore and leave Dragonstone by order of his Grace, King Viserys-"
"Where is the King?" Daemon asked. When he continued, he sounded a little disappointed. "I don't see him." That's because Viserys does not wish to come here, Rhaegon thought grimly. When had Viserys ever solved his problems? A better question might've been, when did Viserys ever care to heal the wounds caused by him? Rhaegon had never gotten a moment of comfort from his elder brother. All relief and help stopped the day his father died, and his corpse was enveloped in dragon flame.
