Will Aelerys Targaryen survive the Dance of Dragons?
Aelerys Targaryen, thirdborn child of Baelon and Alyssa Targaryen.
Youngest sister of King Viserys and Prince Daemon Targaryen.
𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧 𝐬𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝟐
𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊 𝖎𝖓𝖙...
Prince Daemon returns on Caraxes, dismounting his blood-wyrm as it screeches and clicks at the men among the platform, pointing spears at the creature's neck to keep it away.
Princess Aelerys watches her brother on the platform, unable to form a greeting before her brother speaks.
"Grab your mount; we're flying out."
Aelerys is silent. Even without speaking, she knows what her brother intends to do.
"I am the only dragon rider flying closest to King's Landing, endlessly, to ensure the Greens keep to the capitol. Qyrax must gorge and rest, as must I." She runs restless fingers down her dragon-scale armour.
"We're going to King's Landing."
"Whatever for."
Daemon grows impatient, never one for extended pleasantries and explanations of his actions, even when they result in dire consequences.
He sighs, "To kill Vhagar. I cannot face that hoary old bitch alone. With my dragon and yours together, we can kill Vhagar and her rider. Make it a son for a son."
News had spread throughout Dragonstone that Rhaenyra's second son, Lucerys Velaryon, had never returned from his journey to Storm's End. The unsettling news had put the castle on edge, causing the Queen to fly out on her own in search of her missing son. Daemon was restless; without his wife to reel him in, he was more likely to make risky decisions. Such as this.
"I should be at Harrenhal, bending knees, but I must instead remain here to wage her war." He rests his hands on the pommel of his sword.
Aelerys sighs, "Or perhaps, brother, to await her return and be the rock that she needs to keep going. Gods, she has lost her son! A child no older than four and ten."
"She has been gone for days. Too long. She is exposed." Daemon counters.
"Then take your mount and find her yourself, and ask her permission if you are so set on this death wish." Aelerys gestures towards her brother's dragon.
Daemon sighs and hesitates. He mumbles under his breath.
Aelerys raises her head and asks, "What was that?"
"I cannot do it alone."
"Neither can she." Aelerys retorts, scoffing and turning away to check on her nephews.
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Viserys and Aegon sit on the floor, wooden horses and soldiers in their hands. One of Rhaenyra's ladies-in-waiting sits with them but stands once she sees Aelerys enter the room. She curtsies and leaves to stand outside. Viserys babbles to himself, distracted, while Aegon smiles up at his aunt and squeals, lifting himself to run into her arms.
Aelerys thinks about what it would be like if she had the gift of children. She has never had the opportunity to find a husband, any man warded off by Daemon and Viserys when she was younger.
Aegon reaches up and pulls a strand of her silver hair between his fingers. She is reminded of Rhaenyra as a babe, smiling at the memory. Aelerys was only 13 when Viserys' wife, Aemma, gave birth to their firstborn. A joyous occasion indeed.
A guard opens the door, and the lady from before comes rushing in.
"Her Grace has returned."
Aelerys settles Aegon back on the floor with his brother, thanking the woman before leaving to find her niece and good-sister.
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The council stands crowded around the map of Westeros. Many old men, Aelerys' brother, and her cousin all turn as the Queen enters. Daemon meets his wife in the centre of the room; whatever he says causes the Queen to nod solemnly.
Arriving at the end of the table, Rhaenyra nods for her husband to update her on everything.
"Your council stands at the ready, Your Grace. I will fly to Harrenhal at your command and set our toehold in the Riverlands." Daemon asserts, resting both of his hands on the table in front of him.
"Your Grace, my lord husband's blockade of the Gullet moves into place. All seaborne travel and trade to King's Landing will soon be cut off." Rhaenys affirms.
Rhaenyra doesn't respond; the council grows nervous at her silence. The temperature of the room drops even though the fire roars in the hearth behind them.
"I want... Aemond Targaryen."
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Lucerys' funeral is held that afternoon. Prince Daemon is nowhere to be found. Both Rhaenys and Corlys attend the heir to Driftmark's funeral. Princess Aelerys stands with her nieces opposite the Queen's sons.
Everyone is quiet. The weight of the young prince's death hangs over them all.
Aelerys knew Lucerys as a sweet boy, timid but unafraid to protect his family.
His death would not be in vain.
Jacaerys steps forward and places his brother's baby shawl into the fire. He keeps his face stern. Next is Joffrey, with a miniature seahorse that Lucerys loved to hide around Dragonstone and enlist his brother's help to find it. Ever the mischief-maker. Finally, the Queen steps forward with her son's sweater. She sniffles and throws it into the flames.
As the flames roar, so too do the dragons of the Dragonmont. Syrax, Tyraxes, Vermax, Meleys, Moondancer, and Qyrax all bellow in grief.
Aelerys feels a single tear fall down her cheek, staring across the flames. The Queen stares back at her, a similar expression mirroring her own.
In that moment, Aelerys knows that she will do anything to ensure her good-sister's rightful place on the Iron Throne.
