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The Following 9 Chapters are available for Patrons.
Chapter 7 (Sailing to King's Landing), Chapter 8 (Meeting Family), Chapter 9 (A Past Forgotten), Chapter 10 (King's Landing), Chapter 11 (Queen Alysanne), Chapter 12 (House Velayron), Chapter 13 (Reunion), Chapter 14 (Back to Winterfell), and Chapter 15 (A Walk Through Memories) are already available for Patrons.
Dragonstone
The news of Princess Lyanna's safe delivery and the birth of a healthy baby boy spread like wildfire throughout Dragonstone, setting the entire Castle abuzz with excitement and joy. Every corner of the fortress was adorned with congratulations banners, and the sound of jubilant music could be heard echoing off the walls. Amidst the revelry, the happiest of all were the new parents themselves, Daemon and Lyanna, who couldn't help but feel overwhelmed with joy and gratitude for the blessing that had been bestowed upon them. As they looked into each other's eyes, they knew that their love had brought forth a new life, one that would be cherished.
As the ninth month of Lyanna's pregnancy approached, Prince Daemon sensed her restlessness and decided to surprise her with an impromptu visit to Dragonstone, the ancient seat of House Targaryen. Lyanna had often expressed her desire to visit the island fortress, and Daemon saw this as the perfect opportunity to lift her spirits. With the blessing of King Jaehaerys, the couple set sail the very next day, accompanied by the fierce and majestic dragon, Caraxes, who followed closely behind, his wings beating a thunderous rhythm against the wind. As they neared their destination, Lyanna's excitement grew, and she could hardly contain her joy at the prospect of finally setting foot on the fabled Dragonstone with its towering walls, winding staircases, and ancient dragonlord history.
Prince Baelon had been eagerly looking forward to accompanying his son to Dragonstone, but his responsibilities as the heir and his other important duties compelled him to stay back in King's Landing. It was a difficult decision for the prince, as he longed to spend some quality time with his son. However, he knew that his duty to the kingdom came first, and he could not afford to neglect his obligations for personal reasons.
After days of sailing on a rocky sea, Lyanna finally arrived at Dragonstone - an island that she had dreamed of visiting ever since she was a little girl. As she stepped onto the island, she was immediately struck by its sheer size, much larger than she had ever imagined. Lyanna had read books and studied maps of Dragonstone, but nothing could have prepared her for its vastness. The island stretched out before her as far as the eye could see, with hills and valleys, forests and fields, and rocky cliffs dropping down to the sea. As she gazed in awe at the island's grandeur, Lyanna couldn't help but wonder how such a place could exist. It was as if the island was a world of its own, large enough to hold King's Landing and still have more space.
Before Lyanna approached the docks, a pungent and overpowering scent of sulfur invaded her senses, causing her to wrinkle her nose in disgust. The noxious odor emanating from the shore was reminiscent of rotten eggs, and it seemed to permeate every inch of the coastline. Despite the offensive smell, Lyanna's curiosity was piqued, and she couldn't help but wonder what could be causing such a strong and unpleasant aroma. As she drew closer to the source of the smell, she noticed a thick plume of smoke rising from the docks.
Once arriving there, Lyanna spent the entire day exploring the vast island. Trekking through rugged peaks and verdant forests, wading through crystal clear streams and cascading waterfalls, Lyanna's thirst for adventure only grew stronger with each passing day. Despite the countless wonders she encountered on her travels, one place, in particular, stood out to her above all the others: The Garden of Dragonstone.
Nestled deep within the island's lush interior, this enchanting oasis offered a serene and tranquil respite from the hustle and bustle of her explorations. With its vibrant wildflowers, fragrant herbs, and towering trees, the Garden was a place of pure beauty and wonder, a true testament to the island's natural splendor. As Lyanna spent hours wandering through the Garden's winding paths and secret alcoves, she felt a sense of peace and contentment that she had never experienced before.
Lyanna had been entranced by the magnificent Dragonstone ever since her arrival, but it was the abundance of dragon statues and symbols that truly mesmerized her. The intricately carved statues of the majestic creatures were scattered throughout the castle, their wings outstretched as if they were soaring through the halls. The walls were adorned with tapestries depicting dragons of every color and size, their scales shining in the flickering light of the torches. Even the furniture and fixtures were adorned with dragon motifs, from the clawed feet of the chairs to the dragon-shaped door handles. It was as if the entire castle had been designed to honor these beasts. The candle holders were intricately designed to resemble the fierce dragons. The curling flames of the candles flickered in the mouth of the dragon, casting a warm glow that made the hallway come alive with a magical ambiance. Lyanna couldn't help but marvel at the attention to detail and the skillful artistry that went into creating such exquisite decor pieces.
As Lyanna took a leisurely stroll through the ancient castle, she stumbled upon the towering Dragon Statues that stood tall and proud, guarding the entrance of the throne room. Her eyes were immediately drawn to the intricate details etched into their scaly skin and the ferocity in their piercing gazes. As she approached them, a strange feeling washed over her, as if the statues were alive and watching her every move. She couldn't shake off the feeling that there were real dragons inside, their hot breaths and fiery roars just barely contained. Lyanna even imagined that she could hear their guttural growls and whispers as if the dragons were trying to communicate with her.
You're no Dragon, Leave.
The wind seemed to carry with it the faint murmurs of the dragons. These whispers only confirmed to Lyanna that her presence was not welcome within the castle walls.
There was one place she knew she could not venture into - the Dragonmont, a towering peak where the Wild Dragons made their home. Daemon had warned her to keep her distance from the Wild Dragons, as they were known to be fierce and unpredictable, even to those with Valyrian Blood. Thankfully the Dragons had more than enough to eat and would ignore the people living on the island.
Lyanna, that night had read a book about wild dragons. From what she read, they were three fully grown wild dragons in Dragonstone. Grey Ghost, who was a gentle dragon, never really attacked anyone.
Sheepstealer, who, by the name alone, Lyanna knew the dragon loved the taste of Sheep.
Lyanna's heart skipped a beat as she came across the name Cannibal in the book. The mere mention of his name was enough to send a shiver down her spine, and she couldn't help but wonder what kind of monster could earn such a fearsome title. As she delved deeper into the book, her worst fears were confirmed. Cannibal was the largest of all the Wild Dragons, and his insatiable appetite knew no bounds. He would feast on anything he could get his jaws around, from Dead Dragons to Dragon Eggs and even baby Dragons. The books were filled with horrifying accounts of how Cannibal would swoop down from the skies and attack even young Dragons at the tender age of just five name days, leaving a trail of destruction in his wake. Lyanna couldn't help but feel a sense of dread wash over her as she realized this fearsome creature was in the Dragonmont, waiting for his next meal.
Cannibal spent the majority of his time sleeping and rarely ever left his lair. Lyanna had closed the book when she had seen a drawing of Cannibal on the book. In the drawing, he was surrounded by the remains of his prey, with his black scales glistening like coal and his eyes burning bright green like wildfire. It was said that his fire was equally as bright, like an emerald glowing in the darkness.
As Lyanna delved deeper into the book's pages, she discovered a fascinating fact about dragons. According to the Maester Elysar, as dragons age, their flames grow increasingly hotter, making them capable of burning even young dragons with their searing heat. In fact, the book cited an example of Vhagar, the oldest dragon alive, whose flames were so intense that they could penetrate the protective scales of her younger counterparts, leaving them helpless against her fiery fury.
As the sun rose over the sprawling and majestic Dragonstone castle, Lyanna stirred from her slumber on the 27th day since her arrival. Despite the unfamiliar surroundings and the constant hum of activity in the fortress, she had quickly settled into a daily routine.
This particular morning, however, felt different somehow. Perhaps it was the way the light filtered through the window, casting long shadows across the room. Or maybe it was the faint rustling of wings outside, a reminder of the dragons that roamed the skies above. Whatever the reason, Lyanna felt a sense of anticipation coursing through her veins as she rose from her bed. As she dressed in simple but serviceable garb, Lyanna's thoughts turned to Daemon, her husband. On this particular morning, however, he had left early, disappearing into the depths of Caraxes's lair with a sense of purpose that Lyanna couldn't quite identify.
As the servants were bustling around her, carefully preparing her dress for the day, the young princess suddenly felt a sharp and intense pain pierce through her abdomen, causing her to double over in agony. She could feel her knees begin to buckle beneath her as she struggled to keep herself from collapsing onto the floor, but in a moment of instinctual reaction, her hand shot out and grasped onto the nearest object within reach, which happened to be an intricately designed vase filled with fragrant flowers. With the support of the vase, she steadied herself and took several deep breaths, hoping the pain would soon subside.
As soon as the Maester received the news of Lyanna's labor, he swiftly made his way to her chambers, his footsteps echoing down the dimly lit hallways of Dragonstone. Meanwhile, a loyal knight rushed to inform Prince Daemon, who had been preoccupied with his beloved dragon and his clutch of eggs.
Without a moment's hesitation, the Prince mounted his dragon and soared across the skies toward his wife's side. Upon his arrival, the air was thick with tension as Lyanna struggled through the pains of childbirth.
The Maester stood by her side, his wrinkled hands gently guiding her through the birthing process. Prince Daemon held her hand, his eyes unwavering from her face, as they both prayed for safe delivery. Hour after hour passed, with the only sounds piercing the silence being Lyanna's screams of agony.
Finally, after seven long and grueling hours, the cries of a newborn baby filled the room. Tears streamed down Lyanna's face as she gazed upon her son, a tiny and precious bundle in her arms. Prince Daemon's heart swelled with pride as he looked upon his wife and child, knowing that the Targaryen legacy would continue to thrive. The Maester smiled softly, relieved that mother and child had made it through the ordeal unscathed.
Lyanna had felt a sense of peace wash over her as she gazed upon her newborn son, Aenar, a feeling of contentment so profound that it lulled her into a deep slumber. As she slept, her husband, Daemon, took it upon himself to choose the perfect name for their precious bundle of joy. And so, with great reverence and admiration for the history of their family's legacy, he decided to name their son after the first Targaryen who set foot on Dragonstone during the tumultuous Century of Blood, a time of great strife and upheaval in the realm. It was a name that echoed with power and majesty, a name that would inspire awe and respect in all who heard it spoken. Aenar Targaryen.
Lyanna had wanted to name him Jon, but she knew her husband wanted a Targaryen name for their first child. Therefore, Daemon had promised her that she could name their second child whatever she desired, which had made Lyanna feel both excited and nervous at the same time. The prospect of having a second child had filled her with warmth, but the fear of not being able to survive.
As Lyanna slowly opened her eyes, she felt a softness beneath her head that resembled a mountain of pillows, and she realized that she had fallen asleep on a bed of plush cushions.
However, as she tried to sit up, she found that the pillows were piled up so high behind her head that she had to struggle to push herself upright. Looking around the room, she noticed Aenar was not there, causing her heart to skip a beat as she frantically searched for her beloved.
Her eyes darted back and forth, scanning every corner of the room, but he was nowhere to be found. Suddenly, she spotted him sleeping soundly in a small bed next to hers, with Daemon standing beside him."Aenar," she called out his name in a raspy voice; she watched as the baby's chubby cheeks were gently caressed by Daemon's index finger, causing her to smile at the sweet scene before her.
Daemon's heart was filled with an overwhelming sense of joy and disbelief as he stood by the crib, gazing down at his precious little baby boy. As he looked at his son's delicate features, it was almost as if he was seeing himself for the very first time. The reality of fatherhood was still sinking in, and a part of him couldn't help but feel like he was living in a dream. His index finger trembled slightly as he reached out to touch his son's soft, rosy cheeks, his heart swelling with tenderness and love. He was so afraid that he might accidentally hurt his fragile little baby, but the urge to touch him was too strong to resist.
As he stood there, watching his son sleep soundly in his crib, Daemon knew his life would never be the same again. Despite his grandmother's warnings of how loud and disruptive babies could be. He watched in awe as Aenar's chest rose and fell rhythmically with each breath, and his tiny features were full of life and potential. It was almost as if the baby knew that he was in the presence of his father, and he was determined to make a good impression. Despite the absence of any cries or fussing, Daemon couldn't help but worry that something was wrong with his baby. If it weren't for the gentle rise and fall of his chest and the warmth emanating from his tiny body, one could have mistaken Aenar for being a lifeless doll.
Daemon pushed those thoughts away. When he heard Lyanna call out for Aenar, he quickly looked at her, only now he noticed she was awake.
The dimly lit room was filled with the soft murmur of hushed breathing as Daemon stood up from his chair, his heart heavy with concern for his beloved wife. He slowly walked towards her, his eyes fixed on her delicate silhouette as she lay in bed, her chest rising and falling with each shallow breath.
As he drew closer, he could feel the weight of his own exhaustion bearing down on him, but he knew that he must be strong for her. "Lyanna," he whispered, his voice barely above a breath.
"My love, how are you feeling?" She turned her head towards him, her eyes filled with a mixture of pain and relief. "I'm alright," she said her voice barely above a whisper. "It's over now." Daemon smiled gently, placing his hand on her shoulder.
He could feel the warmth of her skin against his palm, and he knew that she still had a long road ahead of her. He knew that she needed rest, but he also knew that she was a fighter. "Rest, my love," he said, his voice soft and soothing.
"You've just given birth, and you need all the rest you can get. I'll be here with you, always." And with that, he leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead
"Aenar." She simply said, her eyes glued on her son. She wanted to hold her newborn, Daemon understood before quickly bringing their son. Slowly and gently, putting him in her arms. With a sense of relief and a smile that radiated pure joy, she welcomed her son into her embrace, cherishing the moment as if time had stood still.
As she let out a garbled breath, tears streamed down her cheeks, and she ran a quivering finger down the side of the baby's face, feeling the softness of his skin. Daemon stood next to her and kissed her on the forehead, but Lyanna was only focused on her baby. She was filled with an intense sense of love and gratitude that she had never felt before in her life. It was as if her heart had expanded tenfold, and she could feel the joy and the warmth spreading through her body, making her feel alive and complete. For a moment, she forgot about the world outside, and all that mattered was this little bundle of joy in her arms.
"He's so beautiful." With every exhale, she felt her smile widen, stretching from ear to ear, as she marveled at the perfection of the newborn in her embrace. The way his tiny fingers curled around hers, the sound of his soft breaths, and the warmth of his delicate body against her skin made her feel like she was holding pure magic.
"He is a brave prince of House Targaryen," Daemon said beside her. Suddenly, as if in response to his father's words, the newborn opened his beautiful purple eyes and looked at them with a curious expression, almost confusion. Overwhelmed with joy, Lyanna let out a cry of happiness, tears streaming down her cheeks. For a moment, she wondered if their little one could recognize them, but Aenar soon formed a tiny smile, followed by a cute squeal.
"He is, Aenar of House Targaryen."
The following day, Daemon sent a raven to the capital to inform them of Lyanna giving birth to Aenar. He knew he would need to; Daemon wanted to wait at least a month but knew the King would like to be informed right away, and so would his father.
Father, Daemon thought bitterly. Since marrying Lyanna, his father had wasted no time to start building Summerhall. He was not sparing any amount of gold for him. Despite how many times Daemon told him he didn't need to, to refrain himself, his words fell on deaf ears each time.
After a long week of waiting, a letter arrived from King Jaehaerys, informing Prince Daemon that he could remain in Dragonstone for six months, allowing him to spend precious time with his family. As Lyanna had recently given birth, the king expressed his desire to meet his great-grandson after the six-month period had ended.
Daemon had been happy to read that, and he wasn't in any hurry to return to King's Landing. Caraxes had laid two new eggs; Daemon had chosen one in hopes of it hatching for his newborn son.
One thing Daemon had noticed the day his son was born, a certain dragon had decided to leave his lair, and for the first time this year, he had come out flying around Dragonmont.
The villagers in Dragonstone had reported to him his appearance; Daemon didn't know why Cannibal had decided to suddenly reveal himself after sleeping for months.
Daemon didn't though much of it. Maybe Cannibal simply wanted to find food. Regardless of Cannibal's motivations, Daemon took comfort in the fact that the waters around Dragonstone were teeming with life - from schools of silvery fish darting just below the surface to massive whales breaching in the distance. Even the dragons themselves, majestic creatures with scales as hard as steel, occasionally ventured out to hunt the sea creatures that called these waters home.
As Daemon carefully placed the beautiful, iridescent Dragon Egg on the soft bedding of his newborn son's crib, Lyanna's expression turned hesitant momentarily, her gaze flickering uncertainly between the precious object and her husband's intent face. Despite her initial hesitation, however, Lyanna eventually relented and nodded her agreement, her mind wandering to the many years that the Targaryen family had upheld this age-old tradition of placing the egg of a dragon in the cradle of their newborn Targaryen child.
Daemon had expected to receive a visit from Aunt Gael, but all he received, for now, was a raven congratulating them and wishing them the best. It seems his aunt was busy in King's Landing, preventing her from flying to Dragonstone. Daemon wondered what could be so important. She and Lyanna were very good friends.
Two months after Aeran's birth, Daemon received a letter from Viserys. It seemed Aemma had given birth to a daughter. They named her Rhaenyra Targaryen.
Daemon thought that was a beautiful name for a princess. The prince had sent a raven, congratulating his brother and wishing him a new child soon. While going back to his bedchamber that day, he thought Rhaenyra could become a good friend of Aenar. Eventually, she was the only one around his age from their family. Two others around Aeran's age were Rhaenys's children. Laena and Laenor Velayron.
It had been three months since Aenar's birth, and Daemon had started to notice just how alert his son was. It was a little unusual for a baby to be so aware of their surroundings at such a young age, but Aenar seemed to be taking everything in with a curious gaze and an unwavering focus. His big, bright eyes followed every movement and sound, and Daemon couldn't help but wonder what was going on in that little mind of his.
He always believed his son was unique. Unlike any other baby, Aenar had cried only two times, and the handmaidens would come to their bedchambers, letting them know that Prince Aenar had woken up crying.
It wasn't long before he noticed a single, solitary strand of dark hair beginning to grow on Aenar's head. Despite being just a month old, Aenar had already captured the hearts of his parents with his bright, infectious smile that seemed to light up the room. However, Daemon couldn't help but notice the way Aenar's eyes would dart around the room with suspicion whenever either he or Lyanna left his sight, a behavior that the handmaidens couldn't help but comment on.
Aenar's third month brought about a new set of challenges for his parents as he started crawling around with unbridled enthusiasm. With his newfound mobility, the little one's curiosity knew no bounds, and he refused to stay in one place for more than a few minutes. His doting father, Daemon, couldn't help but admire his son's adventurous spirit, but he also found it increasingly difficult to keep up with him. On one occasion, Daemon had left the room for a mere moment, and upon his return, he was shocked to find that Aenar had managed to crawl his way outside.
Daemon didn't know how his son had managed to open the door; Lyanna was always there to provide encouragement and support to Aeran, often clapping and cheering whenever he accomplished even the smallest of tasks. As Aeran entered his fourth month of life, he began to babble and coo, much to the delight of his parents. Although Daemon didn't always understand what his son was trying to say, he couldn't help but feel a deep love and affection for his sweet boy.
But for Daemon, the third month was important for another reason. When he had told Lyanna what he intended to do once, Aenar reached three months. She had thrown a fit, saying their son was young and could get killed.
"I will be there, Lyanna. Caraxes won't do anything to him. He's a Targaryen. He's my son."
Daemon had countered with his own argument, soon bringing it up that it was a Targaryen custom, his father had done the same for him, and Daemon would do the same with Aenar.
After too much arguing, they stopped when Aenar started crying. Lyanna reluctantly accepted and felt guilty for making him cry.
Now, Daemon was holding Aenar in his arms; Aenar squirmed playfully, his tiny hands grasping at the air as Lyanna walked beside Daemon, her eyes fixed on their little family. Behind them, a group of ten soldiers, clad in gleaming armor and brandishing sharp swords, provided an imposing yet reassuring presence. Knowing they would get close to a Dragon really made them pale, but they still followed behind without complaining.
Daemon didn't know why the soldiers were even needed. With each step taken closer to the cave where Caraxes lay, the heat grew more intense, emanating from the fiery beast that lay in wait. As they approached, the sound of stones cracking underfoot echoed through the cavernous space, punctuating the tense silence that surrounded them. And then, as if on cue, the unmistakable sound of movement reached their ears, signaling the dragon's approach.
The air was already thick with humidity, but as the dragon approached, the temperature seemed to rise even higher, causing sweat to bead on the soldiers' foreheads. The dragon's outline became more defined as he drew closer, and his fiery red scales glimmered in the sunlight. The soldiers could feel the intensity of his gaze as his eyes locked onto them, and they could hardly move as they were frozen in fear. As the dragon's massive head emerged from the mouth of the cave, the soldiers recoiled, their hearts pounding in their chests.
He had expected his son to react with fear or distress when he brought him to see Caraxes, the dragon he rode into battle. But, to Daemon's surprise, his son did not cower in fear, nor did he cry. Instead, he squealed with delight and extended his small arms toward the massive dragon as if he wanted to embrace him in a warm hug. His legs kicked excitedly, eager to get closer to the magnificent creature. Despite his son's enthusiasm, Daemon knew that it was not safe for him to get too close to the dragon, and so he forced him to stay in his arms.
Caraxes unleashed a euphoric roar as he watched the curious antics of a small child who was squirming and wriggling in the arms of Daemon Targaryen and Lyanna Stark. The child, oblivious to the danger of being so close to a dragon, was determined to get closer to Caraxes, who seemed equally amused by the child's boldness. With each attempt to escape Daemon's grasp, the child let out a series of high-pitched squeals and incomprehensible babbling, which only added to the mirth of the dragon. It was a scene that both Daemon and Lyanna found both endearing and terrifying.
"See, our son loves, Caraxes," Daemon said triumphantly, sending Lyanna a smirk, but she rolled her eyes, clearly unamused.
"See, our son loves Caraxes," he declared, his voice tinged with satisfaction. However, Lyanna merely rolled her eyes in response, clearly unamused by his comment.
"He's a baby, Daemon," Lyanna shot back, her voice laced with exasperation. "For all he knows, Caraxes is just a giant toy he can play with." Ignoring her comment, Daemon leaned closer to Caraxes, his hand reaching up to touch the top of the dragon's head. As if in response, Caraxes lowered his chin, allowing Daemon to stroke his snout with affection.
"Lyka(Quiet)," Daemon said. Daemon's dragon, with scales that shimmered in the sunlight, stopped approaching as his piercing eyes fixed on Aeran, the three-month-old baby, who was laughing with pure joy.
The baby's innocent laughter filled the air, echoing off the nearby mountains. Daemon's dragon had initially been curious about the small human child but now seemed entranced by the baby's infectious laughter.
As the dragon stood still, Aeran continued to giggle and coo, completely oblivious to the immense power and danger that lay before him. A sense of wonder and awe filled the air as Daemon's dragon slowly lowered his large head, examining the tiny human with great care and curiosity.
Suddenly, Aenar, Daemon's son, reached out his small hand and tentatively touched the dragon's nose. The dragon remained still, his natural heat radiating from his skin, but the baby did not seem to mind. He continued to laugh and smile, completely unafraid.
"I assure you, it will be alright," Daemon promised before climbing on top of Caraxes with Aenar in his arms. The red dragon unfolded his large wings and let out a booming roar as he prepared to take flight, his powerful muscles rippling beneath Daemon's feet.
Lyanna could feel the power of its wings beating forcefully against the wind. The gusts of air were so strong that it made her hair whip around her face, threatening to obscure her vision. With a quick reflex, Lyanna reached up and placed her hand firmly on her head to keep her hair in place, her son smiling brightly and giggling even more. Just like his father, she thought, shaking her head, but she was unsure if Aenar had taken after his father or her to love Dragons.
As Daemon soared high in the sky on the back of his mighty dragon, Caraxes, he held his young son tightly in his arms, feeling the rush of wind against his face. With his son's arms extended out in pure joy, Daemon couldn't help but smile at the sheer happiness radiating from the child. As they soared higher and higher, Caraxes began to make graceful circles around the castle of Dragonstone, his powerful wings beating against the air. Aenar's laughter echoed through the sky, filling Daemon's heart with pride and joy. He knew at that moment that his son was destined for greatness, that one day he would become the greatest dragon rider in all of history.
As Daemon and Aenar soared through the sky atop Caraxes, they marveled at the mesmerizing sight of flocks of birds taking flight in unison as they approached. The rush of the wind in their hair and the adrenaline coursing through their veins was only amplified as Caraxes ascended higher and higher into the clouds. From this vantage point, Daemon was able to catch a glimpse of the majestic volcano below - its peak shrouded in ominous clouds of smoke that billowed ominously into the sky. Despite the danger that loomed below, Daemon felt no fear - after all, the volcano had remained dormant for centuries.
Flying around Dragonstone, Aenar squealed loudly, pointing his finger at everything he found interesting, which was everything around them.
As Daemon and Caraxes were soaring high in the sky, he had intended to command his fierce beast to descend to the ground below.
However, before he could even utter a word, Caraxes let out a deafening roar that echoed through the air. Instantly, Daemon's heartbeat quickened as he looked around frantically, trying to decipher the reason for Caraxes's sudden outburst.
As he scanned the sky, his gaze fell upon a monstrous dragon with piercing green eyes that were fixated on him and Caraxes. It was Cannibal. Its massive figure loomed over them, casting a dark shadow that made Daemon feel small and vulnerable. Realizing the danger that they were in, Daemon wasted no time in commanding Caraxes to fly away as fast as he could. He knew he couldn't take on Cannibal with Aenar cradled in his arms.
As Daemon cursed under his breath, his eyes were fixed on Cannibal, the formidable Black Dragon hovering above them, watching their every move with an unwavering gaze. Despite the tense situation, Daemon couldn't help but notice the curious glint in the dragon's eyes - a sign that perhaps Cannibal wasn't as ferocious as he had initially perceived.
With a quick command to Caraxes, Daemon ordered the dragon to take flight towards the vast expanse of the sea, hoping to shake off Cannibal's watchful presence. However, much to his surprise, Cannibal did not follow suit. Instead, the dragon abruptly changed direction and began soaring towards the towering Dragonmont.
To his lair, Daemon thought, allowing himself to breathe in relief, he looked down at his son, expecting to see him cry, but instead, he had a broad smile on his face, pointing at the Black Beast flying away.
"At least one of us had a good time," Daemon commented dryly, his heart still beating in his throat. He really didn't want to imagine what would happen if Cannibal had attacked.
As Caraxes soared through the skies with Daemon atop, it didn't take long for them to land back where Lyanna was anxiously waiting. With a rush of relief, Lyanna watched as Daemon dismounted his loyal companion and wasted no time grabbing her son from his arms. Holding her precious child close, she quickly checked him for any signs of injury, her heart racing with fear. Satisfied that he was unharmed, she then turned to her husband.
"What happened? Why was that dragon chasing you?" Lyanna asked breathlessly. She had seen the dragon chasing them. Her heart had almost stopped in fear.
"I don't know; Cannibal has never shown interest in us before," Daemon said with a hint of wariness in his voice, looking up at where his lair was supposed to be. His eyes scanned the horizon in search of the colossal dragon, but the skies appeared clear. Cannibal, the mighty dragon, was known to be unpredictable and vicious. He was larger than Caraxes, and the only dragon that could rival him in terms of size was Vhagar and Vermithor.
"Let's go back inside," Daemon ordered. The whole way back, Daemon couldn't stop thinking about the Dragon. His son's egg hadn't hatched, and he doubted it would, and Cannibal's sudden interest in them.
He wondered if Cannibal had been interested in his son rather than eating Caraxes. Rubbing the top of his head, he knew he could do nothing but wait. His son was young for now. It would take years before his son claimed a Dragon.
Lyanna, on the other hand, was almost convinced never to permit Daemon again to take their son on Caraxes, but Aenar's bright smile, his purple eyes almost glittering, she knew her son would find a way to claim a dragon behind their backs. I should have expected this the moment I married a Targaryen, she thought, feeling a headache.
For the following month, nothing unusual happened; Cannibal hadn't come out of his lair again.
Prince Daemon was having a very good dream when he was startled awake by a loud tap on the window. Shaking his head to get himself to wake up faster, Daemon got up from his uncomfortable position on the couch and walked over to the source of the noise that had so rudely woken him up.
Lyanna was standing outside the window, a grin on her face as she waved her hand at Daemon. The Prince sighed as he unlatched the window and started to open it up.
"Lyanna, what are you-" Daemon froze, now noticing the person standing beside Lyanna. Aenar, little Aenar who would turn four months in just a few weeks, was standing up all by himself without any help from Lyanna.
Noticing his father, Aenar walked over toward the half-open window, a wide, nearly toothless grin on his face. Inching his hand down next to his leg, Daemon gave himself a very hard pinch. To his disappointment, Daemon wasn't still sleeping as he had hoped himself to be.
"Lyanna," Daemon started to say slowly, "What is Aenar doing?"
Lyanna gestured toward their son. "He's walking!" She said as if that were the most obvious thing in the entire world.
"I can see that. I just wanted to know how." Daemon said, still staring at his son in amazement as he opened the window up fully.
Lyanna gave a small giggle as she said, "Well, you see, my Prince, when children are old enough-"
"I know how he got to walk, I just mean that I have been waiting for weeks to see him walk for the very first time, and I oversleep only once, and when I Wake up, he's walking as if it's the most natural thing in the whole world for him to do!"
"Oh, relax, Daemon. Aenar's got many more firsts that you can look forward to. Like, for instance, his first time riding a dragon on his own, his first name day. See? There are many more firsts that you can look forward to. I just happened to get this one." Lyanna said, a look of absolute pride on her face.
"But still, Lyanna," Daemon said, trailing off at the end as he gave a long sigh.
"I know, I know, Daemon. He's your son. Too, you want to be there for everything that he does." Lyanna told Daemon as she picked up Aenar, who had been starting to totter back and forth on his feet, threatening to fall over.
"But you have to admit- there was bound to be something he did that you missed. It just happened to be this one."
Daemon nodded his head, seeing the logistics of what Lyanna had just told him. "True . . . but I'm never going to let him out of my sight again, in case he does something else that I want to see."
Lyanna laughed, moving Aenar from one arm to the other. "Come on, Daemon. You can't watch Aenar every second of his life!"
"I can try," Daemon said defiantly. "And fail miserably." He added as an afterthought.
"Don't worry, Daemon," Lyanna said, reaching through the open window to touch Daemon on the cheek. "You can watch Aenar do amazing things for years to come."
"You think so?" Daemon asked hopefully.
"I know so, he's our son, and I know he will do great things," Lyanna said, looking down at her son, who was now fast asleep, oblivious to the fact that he was now being stared at with looks of absolute adoration from both his parents.
Two Months Later
Daemon had been on his solar, working on something important. The room was quiet except for the sound of his quill scratching across the parchment.
Suddenly, the door to his office opened, and the Maester walked in carrying a scroll. Daemon didn't look up from his work at first, but when the Maester cleared his throat, he slowly lifted his head and turned to face the old man.
Without saying a word, the Maester held out the scroll, and Daemon reached out to take it. He didn't even bother to thank the old man or ask what the scroll was about. He simply grabbed it and started reading.
As he read through the scroll, his face grew increasingly solemn. The news it contained was not really that good. He let out a long sigh, his back leaning against the chair as he tried to process the information.
With a sense of urgency, Daemon briskly strode out of his grand solar, the door slamming shut behind him. He knew exactly where to find his beloved son and Lyanna, as they spent most of their days frolicking in the sprawling gardens of their estate. He felt his heart swell with joy as he caught sight of the picturesque scene that lay before him. His young son, with his tousled hair and bright smile, was holding a wooden knight figure in one hand and a dragon toy in the other. Lyanna, with her hair cascading down her back like a waterfall, was laughing and playing along with their son.
"Daemon, any news from the capital?" Lyanna asked, seeing her husband standing with his back leaning against a tree.
"Yes, it seems we are going back to King's Landing. Everyone has gathered there, including The Velayrons and The Old King, and my father wants to meet Aenar." Daemon told her regretfully he had wanted to wait until Aenar was one name day.
Lyanna looked at her son, who had stopped playing and instead was looking at them with a hint of concern. Kissing the top of his head, she held him in her arms.
"Well. I'm sure it is about time Aenar has a friend. I'm sure Rhaenyra will be happy to meet him."