The Bronze Dragon-A House of the Dragon fanfic

Chapter 34

Trigger warning: This chapter contains a description of sexual assault. Read at your own discretion.

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The confrontation over Driftmark was one that would be the ultimate catalyst for the Dance. By this time, my father was still convinced a peace could be found between the Greens and Blacks. In his hubris, he failed to see that neither side could afford to be the first to lower the proverbial sword for fear that the other may strike.

Of course, that was not the only thing that served to alienate them. My uncle Aemond would commit an unforgivable act that destroyed all kinship between him and my parents and uncle Daeron.

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This is getting nowhere, Daevar thought. The entire court had gathered to hear the petitions for the Driftmark succession, with the different factions neatly divided up, though they had hit an impasse already. Nominally, Luke was the heir of course, but that was being challenged by Ser Vaemond, no doubt on the grounds that Luke was too young and had never led men into battle, yet the real reason was apparent to everyone. It was a blatant challenge to the legitimacy of Rhaenyra's children.

"What do you know of Valyrian blood, Princess?" Vaemond said to Rhaenyra. Evidently Daevar had tuned out the talking. "I could cut my veins and show it to you and you still would not recognise it. This is about the survival of my house, not yours."

Yes, I'm sure that's all it is, Daevar thought. He was seeing his chance to gain Driftmark and was doing it. He let Vaemond finish his spiel before deciding to step in. "Forgive me for this, Helaena." He said before stepping forward. "My Lord Hand, Ser Vaemond, Princess Rhaenyra, forgive my interruption, but I may have an alternate solution."

Otto frowned. This was not part of the plan, but he did not have the authority to deny a noble lord his voice at court, especially one that was married to his granddaughter. "Very well. Speak your piece, Lord Royce."

Daevar cleared his throat, suddenly conscious that the eyes of everyone in the throne room were on him. He straightened his back and shoulders as much as he could, projecting as much confidence as he could without looking too ridiculous. It had been a long time since he was here, but he couldn't exactly back down. "My Lord Hand, the question before us is a matter of succession. The eldest child of the King is the recognised heir." He cast a look over at Rhaenyra. "It is therefore not unreasonable to assume that the successor could be the eldest grandchild of Lord Corlys?" He turned to look at Baela. "Laena Velaryon was the eldest child of Lord Corlys, and Lady Baela is the oldest grandchild. True, she lived in Pentos most of her life, but who here can say they have the same experience?"

There was a general mumbling of agreement from the various courtiers. Otto kept a stony look on his face as Daevar continued. "True, she may be inexperienced in war, but that is all the more reason to have advisors around her who know war."

"And you would be one of them." Vaemond said, narrowing his eyes. Rhaenyra remained impassive; Daevar's plan seemed outwardly reasonable, but it was still a challenge to the legitimacy of her children.

"No, Ser Vaemond." Daevar replied. "I am Lord of Runestone and have duties to attend to there, but I am far from the only person who has seen war." He turned, making a dramatic show of hammering his hand on his bronze breastplate. "On my honour as Royce, on my honour as a knight, Baela would make a fine ruling Lady." He smiled at his sister. "In the Vale we are led by Lady Jeyne Arryn, who has already faced down two rebellions and the Hill Tribes. I see some of Lady Jeyne's steel in my sister."