Last Man Standing / Jacaerys Velaryon / Alys Rivers / Taelon Targaryen

21. Owls

"Brother?" Daemon questioned confused at seeing Viserys sat atop the throne.

" Did you say it?" Viserys voice echoed. "The Heir for a Day." he demanded. "Did you say it?"

"You can't possibly still be angry about this." Daemon whispered.

"My family was just destroyed. You should've been at my side. But instead you chose to celebrate your own rise." Viserys demanded. "Laughing at me... laughing with the whores and lickspittles."

"No." Daemon whispered stepping closer to the throne.

"You have no allies at court but me." Viserys reminded him. "I have only ever defended you." Viserys demanded. "And everything I've given you, you've thrown back in my face!"

"You come out here every night." Alys remarked. Taelon turned to her.

"I didnt realize i was being watched."

"Why?"

"I like the quiet."

"And you cant stand the dreams." Alys realized.

"Do you get them?" Taelon pondered.

"No." Alys countered

"The barn animal in you i suppose doesnt need to dream." Taelon agreed. A smile curved her thin lips

"You are a dragon," alys decided.

"Very original." Taelon mused but she put her hand on his chest.

"You have the heart of a dragon the breath of its lungs the passion of a beast destined to fly."

"Thanks." Taelon answered confused.

"Do you ever think the wind is trying to us something we dont know how to hear?" Alys pondered as the wind blew more forcefully and the sun peaked up from beyond the horizon

"Sometimes i wish you would stop saying weird shit and kiss me." Taelon countered.

""Open the door. Please." Daemon begged as Viserys crown tipped from his head and clattered against the throne. Daemon stared horrified back at him. Before grabbing the handles once more. "Please. Please. Ah!" He panted out before tumbling into simon.

"May I be of assistance, Your Grace?" Simon questioned. Daemon jumped up grabbing him.

"What are you playing at, old man?"

"I do wonder, Your Grace, if you're getting enough sleep. This old place..." Simon offered.

"Are you mocking me?"

"Unfortunately..." alys hand traced along his chest. "Your brother needs you."

"No he doesnt. Im content right here." Taelon assured "do you have any family?"

"Just me." Alys corrected. "Your brother-"

"I dont want to talk about him. You have any pets? Rok over there is like a pet but dont tell him i always wanted a dog."

"Your brother is going to kill simon strong."

"Is that problematic?" Taelon countered.

"Or are you perhaps the culprit who has been tampering with my peace? A friend by day and a foe by night."

"To what end?"

"To mine, perhaps."  Daemon decided. "Perhaps... you resent my being here. Perhaps... you are an agent of the Hightower rabble." Simon whimpered as a blade was pressed to his neck but he waved his sons to sit.  "Ha. Or are you still in league with your club-footed nephew? Or is it Rhaenyra herself?!"