Dance of The Dragonwolf

A Feast

Daemon Targaryen

Daemon heard his son's voice from the other side of the room, interrupting his concentration while he was in the midst of trying on his new clothes for the upcoming feast. As he stood in front of a full-length mirror, scrutinizing every inch of his attire, his son's voice penetrated the room, "Father, is the king angry?" The question lingered in the air, and Daemon paused for a moment, wondering why his son would ask such a question at this particular moment.

Daemon's thoughts were consumed with the upcoming feast. He was not one to fuss over his attire, but this was no ordinary occasion. Lyanna's family was hosting the event, and as the mother of his son Aenar, she held a special place in his heart. Daemon knew that the impression he left on her family could have far-reaching consequences, for they could become powerful supporters of his son's future endeavors. With this in mind, he carefully selected his attire, opting for a tailored doublet of deep crimson velvet. He paired it with a crisp white shirt and black breeches, completing the ensemble with a pair of polished leather boots.

The North, while it might not be the strongest kingdom in Westeros, was still a valuable ally.

"What makes you think that?" questioned Daemon, his deep voice resonating through the room. He stood tall, his broad shoulders encased in a sleek black tunic that was adorned with intricate red threads that resembled the scales of a ferocious dragon. Daemon's purple gaze flickered to his son, who was trying on his clothes, lost in thought as he considered his response.

"He didn't seem happy when Aunt Gael arrived," Aenar pointed out as he was trying out the clothes his mother had given him. His attire was nothing less than royal, with the finest silk material adorned with intricate patterns that were a testament to the craftsmanship of the finest weavers in the Seven Kingdoms. It was evident from the very first glance that Aenar was not just another nobleman but a Prince of House Targaryen, with a bloodline that was traced back to the legendary dragons of old. The silk fabric flowed around him, shimmering in the light of the chandeliers

As Aenar reminisced about the time when Gael greeted the King after she arrived, he couldn't help but recall the disapproving look on the old king's face and the unmistakable undertone of displeasure in his voice as he made it clear that he was not pleased with his daughter's absence during his arrival. Despite not insulting Gael outright in public, the King's demeanor and tone spoke volumes about his dissatisfaction, leaving Aenar to wonder if the lack of Gael's presence was the cause of his father's discontent. Perhaps the King felt that Gael's absence was a slight to his authority, or maybe he simply missed his daughter's company and was disappointed that she was not there to greet him.

Aenar couldn't help but wonder if the king would allow Gael's descendants to have their own dragons someday. He knew that the Velayrons had been granted dragons through Rhaenys, and while it was a great honor, it could also become a problem if other Houses found ways to gain Dragon Riders through marriage. Aenar couldn't shake the feeling that too many Houses with Dragonriders could lead to potential enemies in the future, and he knew that the king would have to carefully consider this matter to ensure the safety and stability of the realm. Perhaps there would be a way to limit the number of houses with dragons, or maybe there would be a need for a new system entirely to keep the balance of power in check.

Daemon stood in front of the mirror and looked at his reflection with a slight weariness in his eyes. He was trying on a necklace made of pure silver and felt its weight against his neck. The necklace had a unique design with a dragon's head designed at the end, which immediately caught Daemon's attention. The carving of the dragon head figure was so intricate and detailed that it almost looked like a real dragon head breathing silver flames.

As Daemon examined the necklace more closely, he noticed the red hue on the dragon's head, which made it look more realistic and alive. He couldn't help but feel impressed with the craftsmanship and artistry that went into creating such a piece of jewelry. It was as if the dragon was alive and breathing right in front of him. He knew that this necklace would be the perfect accessory for the upcoming festival