"when a targaryen is born, the gods flip a coin. one side greatness, the other madness."
in which the rebellious nature of the son of daemon targaryen and laena velaryon leads to him meeting the rumored bastard of princess rhaenyra targaryen and ser...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Years slipped away like sand through an hourglass. The ebb and flow of the tides marked the passage of time, while the gentle breeze whispered secrets of change. Despite it all, certain things remained steadfast, unmoved by the shifting currents of life. Rhaerys did not come to enjoy Driftmark, no matter how much his grandmother wished it. He missed Dragonstone. He missed Rhaena and Luke. He missed his father and Rhaenyra. He missed Jace. But he never voiced such wishes to return, hence he and Baela never visited the land for the past years.
He was now seven-and-ten. He stood aside the Driftwood Throne with his sister, who stood on the opposing side of him. A somber atmosphere filled the room as Maester Kelvyn informed Rhaenys, who had sat the Driftwood Throne in her husband's absence, of her husband's condition. "It has been near six years since I last saw my lord husband, Maester," Rhaenys spoke to the man. "I must know... will he live?"
"He led his sailors into an ambush. A ship made to look as if it were abandoned. In the fighting, his neck was slashed by a corsair's dagger. He fell overboard into the sea," Maester Kelvyn explained to the princess. "The wound was severe. Much blood was lost. But the greater concern is the fever that followed. The ship's maester said he burns from within." Rhaenys' grandchildren looked at her with looks of concern. The woman's eyes remained low as she held back the tears that formed in her eyes. "The ravens came in from?" she asked.
"Evenfall, Princess," Maester Kelvyn responded.
"So they arrive in three days," Rhaenys acknowledged. "Let all be made ready to receive him, Maester Kelvyn." The maester bowed his head before taking his leave, allowing Rhaenys, her grandchildren, and Vaemond, her brother by law, to speak in privacy.
"The Sea Snake is strong," Baela consoled Rhaenys, a hum and nod of her head escaping her.
"No doubt," Vaemond spoke up from the corner. His steps echoed as he came closer to the Driftwood throne. "And yet, I have seen blood fever overcome men half his age."
"I will not suffer the talk of crows in my house, Vaemond," Rhaenys warned him.
"I love my brother... but we must be honest with ourselves," Vaemond declared. "We may greet his ship to find him gone. And who will take the Driftwood Throne?"
"Our grandmother looks quite comfortable here," Baela announced, growing annoyed at their uncle's attempts to claim the throne as his. Rhaenys concealed her smile at her granddaughter.
"She presides only in the absence of her husband," Vaemond stated. "On his death, the seat passes."
"To Lucerys Velaryon," Rhaenys reminded him. "As is my lord husband's desire."
"I am the Sea Snake's own blood, the closest kin he has left," Vaemond tried to reason with Rhaenys, though she had no interest in taking the words of the Velaryon man. Another warning fell from her lips, telling him of the fact that one could take his words for treason. Vaemond's face contorted into a slight notion of anger as he strode up the steps of the Driftwood Throne. The brother and sister at her side took small steps forward after noticing such acts of his, the youngest even going so far as to warningly place his hand on the hilt of his sword. Vaemond came to a stop mere feet away from Rhaenys. "I speak the truth, Rhaenys. And you know it."
