Chapter Text

Aerea I

“Come now, daughter. You know you best watch yourself around your cousin and that Hightower girl of hers.” Aerea’s father tssked as they walked through the Halls of the Red Keep towards the Throne Room. She could tell he found it just as amusing as she did but was trying to teach her something.

“Yes, father.” She hummed, looking to her feet. Her father’s scoldings were rarer than the ones from the Lord Hand or her mother, but they were far scarier.

He chuckled again, “And next time you plan on putting lemon cake into Hightower’s daughter’s hair, at least make sure I’m there to watch.” She looked up to see the smile he always had when they were together. Prince Daemon didn’t like the way Alicent treated her, which led to him not liking Ser Otto, and the rest of the Hightowers either. Aerea didn’t like that. Her father shouldn’t hate Ser Otto, even if his daughter was mean sometimes. Grownups were supposed to be friends, or atleast polite to each other. She needed more friends that Alicent and Rhaenyra wouldn’t make fun of her for having, or who were annoying and just trying to “steal their dragons” like her father said Jason Lannister was trying to do. Her mind eventually drifted to the stories her mother had told her of her childhood in Winterfell.

“Father?” Aerea began as they approached the Throne Room where the adults of the court had been at work planning her uncle’s coronation, earning a humm of acknowledgment. “When will my cousins from the North arrive?”

“I’m not sure, little Dragon. But soon. The King is to be crowned within the fortnight, and the Starks are to attend”.

That made Aerea happy. Baelor had stopped playing with her as much since Ser Kingsguard had taken to training him with the sword, and Dany somehow actually enjoyed the needlework with Rhaenyra, Alicent, and their mean old Septas. Normally she’d play with the children of the smallfolk who worked in the keep, however, her mother had told her to avoid them until after the Lords left for the coronation. She wasn’t sure why, they were people like them. Sure, they couldn’t ride Dragons, but neither could the nobles from outside their house. “How long is soon?” She asked, causing her father to look at her and raise an eyebrow before they continued in silence for a few moments.

“Ask your mother.” He said before two guards dressed in their colors, Steffon and Randyl she recognized since Steffon’s son helped Mychel in the stables sometimes, opened the tall doors to the Throne Room. The Skulls of Balerion, Quicksilver, and Meraxes were mounted proudly on the walls, making the colorful tapestries of their House’s three-headed dragon and depictions of the burning of Harrenhal and the Dornish fleet, and Old Valyria at its might look like common cloth. Her eyes scanned the room till she found who she was looking for.

“Mama!” She shouted gleefully, running past her father, Ser Simon Strong of the Small Council, guards, and servants alike towards her mother. She turned to her from a conversation with Lady Celtigar, surprised at first, then smiled. Faintly behind her, she could hear her father laughing. “When are my cousins getting here?” She asked when she was close enough she didn’t have to yell.

Her mother laughed, soon my love. My brother sent me a raven saying they left Harrenhal a week ago and should arrive any day now. Your grandfather and my other siblings are a few days away from that.”

The excitement made her bounce on her feet. She knew she had cousins in the Vale, Robar, Brandon, and Alayne, then an Uncle without any children, and her Grandfather in Winterfell. She’d never met any of them and she desperately wanted to. After she claimed her dragon she would fly to visit them in Runestone and at Winterfell. Neither hers, Dany’s, nor Bae’s eggs had hatched. Her father had said it was because it was Winter, and Dragons don’t do well in the snow, but Rhaenyra’s had hatched, and they’d watched in envy as it grew.

Aerea was glad hers hadn’t hatched though. As cute and small as Syrax was, she wanted a fully grown Dragon, one that had seen battle and the glories of the conquest, she wanted Vhagar. Queen Visenya’s mount. Of all her ancestors, Visenya was Aerea’s favorite, and not just because her father wielded her sword. She wanted to be trained as a warrior like she was so that she could one day inherit Darksister. Neither of her parents had told her no when she asked if she could, but both Rhaenyra and Alicent had laughed at her and called her Dornish when she spoke of these dreams. Not Dany though, Dany was always kind and supported her.

Her mother’s laughter pulled her back to the situation around her, “My my, niece. Were you dreaming?” Her uncle, the King said with a jovial laugh.

Aerea gave him a practiced curtsie, “Apologies, Uncle. I was thinking of what I would do when I claimed my Dragon,” she deadpanned, earning more laughter.

“My daughter is a true Dragon, brother!” Her father said proudly as he patted the king’s shoulder.

“Queen Visenya come again!” Aerea shouted gleefully, “I will claim Vhagar, and Darksister will be mine one day!”

“Dark sister will go to you, will it?” Came the tranquil voice of Queen Aemma, who Aerea quickly turned to look toward, “I’m not sure Prince Baelor would forfeit his inheritance so easily.” The Queen’s voice was kind, but Aerea wasn’t sure what she was talking about.

“What does forfeit mean?” She asked, earning more laughter from the adults around here.

Her mother knelt next to her and spoke softly, “When your father dies, many, many years from now, Dark Sister will go to your brother.” She noticed Ser Otto cough in the background and begin to speak to the King in whispers.

“But you said I could train!” Aerea argued, her voice peaking and falling into a groan.

“Yes love, you may train, but Dark Sister is Valyrian Steel. And it will go to your brother.” Her mother’s tone was full of a kind warmth as she explained.

“But it was Queen Visenya’s?” She argued back.

“Yes, but your brother is older. And the eldest is first in inheritance.” Her mother continued.

Aerea nodded, thinking for a moment. “If I beat him in a dual, will it be mine?” She asked, earning another round of laughter from the adults in the room.

“Yes, Little Dragon. If you can beat your brother in a dual, then I’m sure he would hand Darksister over to you.” Her father added. That made Aerea smile. She loved Bae, but that sword would be hers. It was the sword of her father, and Queen Visenya before him. She would earn it and wield it to protect their house and defeat their enemies. Bae could take Blackfyre, that sword was much too large for her anyway.

“Then may I go train?” She asked, raising her voice to the tone that usually got her extra lemon cakes from the kitchen staff.

Another round of laughter, “Perhaps it would be best if the Princess wait till after the Coronation to begin training. I’m not sure that seeing her in trousers and mail, training with a sword that way would bear well for her marriage prospects,” came the voice of Ser Otto. She turned and glared at him with a dragon’s gaze.

Her father scoffed, “Do you think that my daughter isn’t good for these pampered Lordlings, Hightower?” He gripped Darksister’s hilt at his hip and her mother put an arm on his to calm him as the room went dead silent and the Kingsguard put their hands on their pommels.

“Calm, brother,” Viserys said, taking a step forward to put himself between the Queen and the blades. “Ser Otto did not mean an insult, I’m sure. But he speaks true. Perhaps it would be unwise for Aerea to begin to train until after the coronation.” The men around the room still gripped at their swords and the air was tense. Viserys knew this and continued as Aerea pouted. “Besides, imagine the controversy if she were to disarm the heir to a Great House. The boy and his house would be the laughingstocks of the realm, their reputations would be tarnished.”

That caused Daemon to laugh and relax his grip on his sword, as her mother breathed a sigh of relief. “I suppose you are right, brother. We’d hate to harm a lordling’s ego.”

“No, I wouldn’t!” Aerea shouted impudentily, “I want to harm a Lordling’s ego.” She’d find out what an Ego was later. “Especially that tiny Lannister whos annoying.” Another round of laughter, Aerea didn’t know why they kept laughing, she was just speaking truthfully like her mother always told her to.

From the corner of her eye, she saw Ser Otto cross his arms and whisper to the king, her uncle just waved a hand. “I’d love to see that, Niece.” He said with a laugh. Aerea didn’t know why he was laughing, she would do what she said.

The next few hours Aerea spent in the Throne Room witnessing the Small Council debate the details of the coronation. She thought it was dreadfully boring, however, she did enjoy discussing the logistics of managing supplies and sums for the Feasts and Tourneys. When she corrected Ser Otto’s incorrect calculations she earned praise from her Father and even Ser Otto smiled at her. She learned that the Coronation would be as grand as the Golden Wedding, with seven and seventy courses for the feast, the Crown of the Conqueror, and a Tourney with nearly a thousand participants. She’d seen feasts and tourneys in her life, but never had she ever been this excited for one.

The final details discussed were something she could not possibly care less about, what color would the drapes be, as Aerea questioned whether she could continue to do nothing much longer, a cryer in their house’s colors entered the Throne Room. The man bowed deeply as he spoke, ‘Your Graces, My Lords,” He turned to face her mother and continued, “A delegation with the Banners of House Royce had been spotted, Lady Lyarra.”

Her mother smiled. “Excellent!” She turned to Aerea and continued, “Come, Love! Let us greet your cousins.” Aerea’s face lit up instantly as she fell in line behind her mother. As they were about to leave the Throne Room, her mother turned and called out to the servants in a voice with none of its normal humor, “And inform my son to meet us in the Courtyard. I do wish for him to be introduced to his cousins properly.”

They made their way toward the courtyard after washing and refreshing themselves in their rooms. Aerea wore a red dress with Grey and Silver highlights, while her mother was dressed in Stark Grey. Lord Strong and his sons, the huge Harwin who had recently been knighted and had taken a position in the Gold Cloaks, and his strange clubfooted brother who was kind but had a habit of going on odd tangents whenever they spoke. They waited for what felt like an eternity for her brother to join them, yet he never had. She giggled to herself as her mother mumbled about it under her breath, earning her a raised eyebrow that made her go silent. She still thought that Baelor getting in trouble was funny, even though she knew she shouldn’t. Eventually, the first banners crossed through the Red Keep’s gates, the three ribbons of the Strongs, followed by the Candles of the Wickendales, and then finally the Bronze and Black of the Royces. In the distance she heard a Dragon roar, she thought it was Vermithor but she wasn’t sure.

The dust settled, and Aerea saw a woman wearing bronze-colored robes with copper hair and a strong frame sitting proudly on a red paltry. That had to be Rhea Royce, her aunt by marriage. That meant that the tall man behind her had to be her uncle Bennard. He had the same hair color as her brother and mother and his eyes were fixed entirely on them. A boy a few namedays older than her rode in on a pony behind them, looking awestruck at how amazing her family’s keep was. That had to be her cousin, Robar, who gave them a kind smile but still seemed distracted. She knew she had more cousins, but they must be in the carriage. After some greetings and guest rights were exchanged, her aunt, uncle, and cousins approached them. Her uncle, Ser Bennard, spread his arms for a hug that her mother eagerly met.

“Lya!” He shouted as they embraced. Her mother had said she wished she could see her siblings and father more, but the distance was too great for anything more than Ravens. Her father had attempted to fly her to Winterfell on Caraxes once when Baelor was a baby, but they’d only made it to the Trident before her mother demanded they return, unable to stand flying on a dragon.

“Ben!” Her mother replied, “It’s so good to see you! Was the weather kind for your travels?” Her uncle nodded and said something she couldn’t hear, making her mother laugh. “And Lady Rhea! How good to see you again!”

 Lady Rhea gave a polite curtsey and a genuine smile, “And you, Lady Lyarra.”

“Please, your children are my nieces and nephews. Call me Lya.” The reply sounded genuine and Aerea giggled to herself thinking what the Septas or Alicent would say about the lack of proprietary.

“Very well, Lya.” It sounded odd hearing that from someone other than her father or uncle. “And here they are now. May I introduce my son and heir, Robar, my eldest daughter, Alayne, and son Brandon.”

Aerea was excited to meet her cousins and was very nearly bouncing on her feet waiting for them to be introduced. Alayne looked to be a nameday or two her elder, and had her mother’s copper colored hair. She was tall and smiled kindly, giving a perfectly practiced courtsey. Brandon was younger than her, but seemed kind. He looked like a Stark, with brown hair and a long face like her and her mother.

Then there was Robar, whose hair was even redder than his mother’s, and seemed to be of age with Baelor. He smiled as Aerea’s mother introduced her, but after he looked at her for a moment his face went white and it seemed as if he’d seen a ghost.

“Arya?” He asked, his voice going high.

“Aerea!” She corrected, remembering her father stressing the importance of her name. Though she did like how simple that name she called him was.

“Apologies, my mistake.” Robar mumbled as both his parents gave him an odd look, “Princess.” He added after a cough from his father.

Alayne cut in with a smile, “It’s so nice to meet you, princess!” She had white teeth and a pretty smile.

“Please, cousin. We a kin, call me Aerea.” She replied, seeing her mother smile.

“Aerea.” She tried the name on her tongue, “I am excited to come to court and meet you, cousin.”

Aerea smiled back, “Yes! And I am glad to meet you all.”

“Where is your son, Lya? Prince Baelor is it?” Bennard asked as Robar nodded in agreence.

Lyarra scowled, “My son was to join us here, but he’s apparently elected not to. No matter, I shall ensure a proper introduction tonight at the feast.” Aerea sighed at that, the big feasts with all the Lords were so much less fun than the ones with her family. Though she did look forward to meeting her cousins. “Now, I assume you will want to refresh yourselves before the feast. Aerea and I will escort you to your rooms.” What she really wanted to do was go play with her cousins, but her mother was right that they would probably want to rest.

They were staying in the Red Keep, in rooms close to Maegor’s Holdfast to respect their family ties. Passing through the halls, she spoke with her cousins and learned that Brandon loved climbing and wanted to be a knight and maybe wield his family’s Valyrian Steel Sword, Lamentation, just as she did Darksister. Alayne on the other hand spoke of her much grander the Feasts and Tourneys had to be in the Capital, compared to the smaller ones in the Vale. Robar was brooding and silent, seemingly speechless at every tapestry of a Dragon or her family’s glory. Aerea liked that. He knew to respect Dragons.

As they crossed a courtyard toward their rooms, Aerea heard the unforgettable sound of a Dragon in flight, and it sounded like a large one. Those that weren’t from Kings Landing stopped moving and looked around when they heard it, then nearly fell to the ground as it flew over close enough to the Red Keep that she could see the scars on it’s bronze belly.

“Vermithor.” Aerea said aloud, laughing to herself as those around her were cowed.

“The mount of King Jaehaerys.” Robar replied once he regained his composure.

“Yes,” Aerea said with a smile. She liked Robar. “Though he’s been on Dragonstone since my Great Grandfather’s death. He must’ve decided it was time to return to the pit.”

Brandon seemed awed and instantly began asking questions about the Dragons, ones Aerea answered proudly. When they finally made it to their rooms, Aerea and her mother departed. They had barely made it out of that hall when a guardsman in their house’s colors approached, panting as he’d obviously run his way there. Her mother gripped her hand tighter.

“What is it, Ser?” She asked.

“Prince Baelor has rode the dragon Vermithor.” He said through heavy breaths. Her mother gasped, not wanting him to attempt to mount a Dragon without his father, while Aerea cheered for her brother.