Sunrise and Moonlight | Bastard&Usurper Rhaenyra AU | House of the Dragon |

Alaeyne I

AN: Hello, so here is the first real chapter.

So, I chose to set this one in King's Landing. My plan is to have the first couple of chapters set in King's Landing, where stuff is happening, to explore the character dynamics and politics of this AU before getting into more familiar territory with Daemon and Rhaenyra. However, we will have one of their POVs soon.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy it.

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110 A.C.

The warm rays of the morning sun caressed her skin. She closed her eyes and enjoyed the heat of it. It was pleasant. She had always liked the feel of the sun on her skin. Fitting for someone titled the "Sunrise Princess."

Pity that it was the only thing that was pleasant about this particular morning.

With her bereft father locking himself in his solar, the Red Keep had turned into a pit of vipers. The lords of the Realm, ever charming, incessantly spewed their venom and gossip. Much of it was directed at her. And the Princess had no desire for it, least of it on her nameday. So, she had sequestered herself to one of the balconies in the Keep, resolute to salvage what she could from the disaster that was the day.

She heard the clinking of armor next to her. She opened her eyes and gave a lazy side glance toward the source of the disturbance. Her sworn shield, Criston Cole, instantly straightened as the Princess's eyes fell on him.

He opened his mouth, but no words came out. For a moment, he looked like a fish; silent and with his mouth stupidly agape. He was clearly uncomfortable and did not know how to approach the Princess.

"My Princess?" he finally asked, languid insecurity laced his tone.

It only served to annoy the Princess further. She expected it from the lords crowding the halls of her father. She expected it from the maids and servants tending to the needs of the Keep. They all talked; they all whispered. She expected it of them, even if she did not like it. But to have her own sworn shield walking on eggshells around her, refusing to even acknowledge the matter, brought her a painful kind of isolation.

It was like she was the butt of a joke that no one would tell her.

She sighed and closed her eyes. At least she could enjoy the sun on this miserable day.

She had a good while to relax and calm herself before she was disturbed again. She heard steps behind her, approaching. She instantly recognized the gait and smiled. Perhaps the sun would not be the only pleasant thing this morning.

This interruption was much more welcomed.

"Princess," came the unmistakable voice of her uncle a few moments later.

Alaeyne Targaryen opened her eyes and turned her head towards the new arrival.

"Uncle," she greeted, not caring to hide the clear excitement of her tone.

There stood Daemon Targaryen, the Rogue Prince. The smirk that split his face was one she knew well. Provoking, flippant, arrogant, confident. She loved it every time she saw it. His long and majestic hair fluttered with the breeze. He was wearing his riding leathers, red and black, in the colors of their house. It took an effort not to let her own smile falter when she noticed.

She gave a quick look at Criston, the meaning of which was clear. The knight frowned but complied as he made his way out of the balcony. The Kingsguard eyed the Prince with apprehension on his way out. A look that was only returned with smugness from Daemon.