Princess Maegelle Targaryen knew the importance of balance and unity, she learnt it from deceased her husband. Now that her mother is to the worms, she must return to Kingslanding and protect the claim that her father has bestowed upon her.
"You ne...
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We are all fools in love. The moment that the ladies concocted the plan, they marched to Ser Laenor's chambers. "Rhaenyra for gods sake I did not eat your lemon cakes!" Laenor opened the conversation, seeing his cousin knocking on his door.
"You idiot, I'm not here for justice. I'm here for a proposal." she rolled her eyes, pushing the door open – exposing Ser Gwayne who was lying on the bed. "Rhaenyra, Alicent." he greeted, already used to his sister and her best friend barging into their rooms. "What proposal? I'm not racing to Dragonstone again." Laenor grumbled, closing the door to his chambers.
Rhaenyra reaches for Alicent's forearm, smiling at the couple in front of them. "Alicent and I are in love." she introduced, and Gwayne did not bother to look up from his book. "We could tell," Gwayne hummed. "You weren't sleeping with each other before?" Laenor's eyebrows merged together.
"Anyways, I came up with a plan that would ensure our happiness. Laenor shall marry Alicent, and I shall marry Ser Gwayne and we'll all live in Kingslanding and/or Driftmark." Rhaenyra smiled, all giddy at the thought of having a perfect life with Alicent. "You've really thought this through, huh?" Gwayne chuckled.
" - but this arrangement will not go past the King." he added, quick to derail the maiden's plans. "Are all Hightowers quarrelsome or is that trait exclusive to you and Alicent?" Rhaenyra rolled her eyes, earning a giggle from Alicent.
"Rhaenyra actually makes sense." Laenor placed a finger to his chin. "I can't believe that you're taking her side." Gwayne stared. "We should have a secret wedding!"
—
Jaehaerys held the wood sword in his left hand (as it was his dominant hand), a small frown was plastered on his face as he hears his nuncle finish talking. "My father always said that honor was the bane of war." he argued, the sides of his lips turning into a scowl as Daemon's demeanor failed to change. "Are you an Arryn or a Stark?" Daemon responds sassily, while turning around to get a sword of his own.
The answer was neither; for he was a Targaryen. The next king of the seven kingdoms, after his mother. "When war comes, it will nor care if you are sheep or lion or wolf or dragon. It cares not for honor or loyalty, only for blood." he breathes, that same smirk bringing the scene back to life. Maegelle's boy was honorable and kind. It will take time to take that kindness away.
"Why do you tell me to prepare for something, that may never come?" he questions, twiddling with the edges of his wooden sword. It was all child's play, the appetizer before the main event. "A wise king always prepares for war. Take King Aerys as an example — he was stupid, and all of those cunts from Oldtown began to prowl on our dragon-throne." Daemon responds, while pointing his fake-sword at the child.
"Now let us begin." he announces, taking the first swing. He didn't know what Jaehaerys' capabilities were — he decided to take it easy. The child was an expert marksman, even though the wooden swords were a tad bit too flexible, he still managed to fend off Daemon.
