*000000* Chapter 127 9

111 AC

Where was he?

My eyes scanned the sky above me like a freaking hawk.

I was not looking at the tournament, I could lament the eventuality of getting my rear kicked in combat later, survival now.

"Gaem? What is wrong?" Rhae asked from beside me in the royal box. It annoyed me to no end that she was wearing the damned red dress and that Alicent was dressed in Green and gold (which incidentally made my wonder as to why she was dressed like a Tyrell) and any other time I would voice said objection but I had bigger murderous relatives to worry about.

HE was coming. I knew he was coming, he came in the canon and there was no reason to assume that I had gotten lucky at any rate. If he came then things were going to go south faster than an incredibly horny butterfly in mating season. I needed a plan, I did not have one aside from hoping he does not stay long and that I must successfully latch myself onto my guards and stay that way. They would also need to sample my meals.

"Gaem?" Rhaenyra repeated with some concern as I shook my head to refocus on her. Although as I looked at her I kept my eyes on the sky.

"Sorry Rhae, I am a little distracted," I said with a bright smile. Smile, always smile. She might stab you in the face after he shows up.

Her brows furrowed in concern, "What is troubling you?"

"Nothing, it's nothing," I mumbled. "The weather strikes me as bad today."

"Oh?" Rhaenyra looked up at the crystal-clear sky. "It seems fair to me."

Alright not the best throw-away line given the situation. Fortunately, the announcers picked this moment to announce the next set to lance.

"Ser Criston Cole of the Kingsguard will face Ser Gwayne Hightower," The short man continued his speech but I was not paying it much mind. All that mattered was that Rhaenyra's eyes were glued back to the joust as her dear night strut out with a black favor tied to his white armour. It revolted me that the man would be wearing my moth-Alicent's favor before long.

Hmm, I wondered if I caused a severe enough ripple to cause Gwayne's lance to shatter and send a sliver through the eye and brain of my hated foe. Any other day my eyes would also be glued to the joust but not today.

There were only two days left to this week-long farce and I knew that HE was due soon. No time to be wishing death on Criston when my own life was on the line. Unless I could achieve a mutual kill but that was something else entirely.

"Gwayne!" I heard Alicent whisper as she clasped her hands on her mouth. Oh? Was he down already? No surprise there, for all that I despised him I knew well enough that my foe was dangerous as all hell. The overconfident fourteen-year-old I had met a few days prior did not stand a ghost of a chance.

"Do not worry my love," Viserys said as he put one beefy hand on her shoulder. "I will see to it that young Gwayne is seen to by Runciter himself."

"O-of course my love," she said as she moved to cup his own hands and shot a venomous look at Rhaenyra who was smiling smugly.

"It seems my white knight is as masterful as ever," she said with mock-innocence. Real smooth Rhae, real smooth.

Of course, Alicent did not take that laying down. "Indeed, it is truly a shame. That not all men are not boys of six and ten so that Ser Cole might be deemed invincible."

"Enough," Viserys commanded, silencing both. "It is a tourney nothing less and nothing more."

Hmm, I will have to take notes when the Predator shows up to rip out that impressive spine. Perhaps he took the skull already given what a moron he already was.

I sighed, alright that felt a bit harsh given that the man was half responsible for my current body but still. Might was well throw him a bone and entertain myself until that rogue shows up.

"My liege?" I asked speaking out loud so that everyone in the royal box could hear me.

Viserys eyed me for a moment, he did not like that. He wanted to be 'father' but that did not seem to really fit for me, I loved and respected both of my original parents, I felt like sacrilege to grant him the title. At least Alicent was trying.

"Yes Gaemon?" He asked with as much cheer as he could muster.

"Why have Mom and Rhae been wearing the same colours for five days now?" That froze both of them like statues (as well as everyone in earshot save the king).

"Hmm?" Viserys' eyes narrowed with interest as he took note of the style of two most important people in his life. "That is a good question Gaemon."

Before either could respond I decided to stoke the flame a little more.

"I heard some men calling themselves 'Blacks' and 'Greens'. Is it a game or another of those things normal people do?" I asked innocently, I had no clue if they were already doing it but hey, what's wrong with a little theater?

Viserys eyes darkened a little as Alicent's and Rhaenyra's eyes narrowed at me. Heh, they weren't angry with me. They were wondering who screwed up and let me hear about it.

"My sweet ladies," Viserys said with a brittle tone. "I fear that I must request that you both dress in different colours tomorrow. Your beauties are so vast that I fear one set of colours is insufficient." His words sounded nice enough but the tone left it clear that it was not a request.

"In fact I would think it proper," he added as he sipped his wine. "If you dress in the same colours."

"O-of course father," Rhaenyra said quickly.

"Excellent Idea my love," Alicent said as quickly.

"Good," Viserys said as his features quickly returned to their jolly norm. "Do not worry Gaemon, it is a small oddity of us big folk."

Well might as well milk this for all it was worth. My default strategy.

"Can I wear black and green?" I asked happily. "That way I can be like Mom and Rhae!"

That got a deep laugh from the king and warm looks from the women that had no clue that I had just thrown them under the bus. Well less thrown under the bus and more like desperately trying to drag them by the ankles away from the wood-chipper they insisted on crawling towards.

The pleasant mood was ruined as a dragon shaped shadow darkened the tourney grounds.

I closed my eyes and slowly raised my head. Please be Rhaenys out and about, please be Rhaenys out and about, please-

I opened my eyes and strangled a curse.

Instead of the shining and deep red of Meleys I instead saw a dragon with a pale red hue whose name I knew very well. Caraxes, the Blood Wyrm. Most battle-hardened of the living dragons. The badass monstrosity who tanked freaking Vhagar with little more than a 'come at me bro' and not only achieved a mutual kill but proceeded to crawl its way out of a titanic lake and die on the dry shore.

And with him came the man whom I was eighty to ninety percent sure was a high priority threat to my survival.

Daemon 'Definitely Going to Try to Kill You' Targaryen.

…

After causing a sufficiently massive stir to stroke his ego the Rogue Prince descended onto the tourney grounds. It was fortunate that the jousting stands could be easily removed to make way for the dragon.

I gauged the reactions of those around me as the identity of the dragon and its rider became clear during the descent. Alicent's hand was firmly wrapped around Viserys' own. Both had white knuckles.

Rhaenyra for her part was smiling broadly even as Ser Criston stood behind her with concern etched deeply into his handsome features. For once I agreed with my enemy, Daemon was the bigger threat. Now if only I could persuade him to nobly bring Daemon poisoned drinks and sacrifice himself.

Unsurprisingly the great dragon kicked up a great deal of dust as he came down onto the field. By all that was Space Batty he looked cool! Covered in scars with great deep bronze horns and a 'I can kill you in a heartbeat' look in his bright red eyes.

Then he dips down his head to lick his wing patiently… Alright back to cats. Giant, fire-breathing, army-killing, flying-lizard-cats. I mean come on this was just getting silly.

It was so anticlimactic that I did not notice my doom climbing down the handles of the great saddle until he came to a stop before the king.

Gods damn it all he was hot too. Was there some sort of evil sorcery at work here? Why did I get Viserys-brand chubby genes while all of my foe were male models in armor? There was definitely something magical at work preventing everyone from being far more ugly than they should be by all rights.

He wore the same suit of armor as I had seen in the World of Ice and Fire picture (why the hell gothic style armor existed in Westeros was a question for later.) with a beautifully fluted design and a cloak with arming clothes of golden yellow. The impressive figure he cut was only aided by also being at least a hundred and ninety centimeters tall and having a well-muscled and lithe frame.

He was handsome in features as well with fine Valyrian features accented by suitably wind-blown hair that reached his shoulders and a charming mix of a smirk and confident eyes.

Yap, even from here I could see that the man reeked of danger as he was walked forward and not just because of the living flamethrower behind him. He carried himself like a deadly man and more importantly, like an arrogant man. Frankly I did not know which trait was more dangerous.

More interesting however were the two most notable items on his person. The first being a crown on his head, a fine circlet of steel and rubies no doubt meant to imitate the crown of the Conqueror. The purported crown of the Stepstones.

Of much greater interest was the sword sheathed on his hip. I recognized her from depictions in my reading even if her steel was hidden from my eyes, her rippling golden guard and the shaped flames of her pommel. Combined her slender shape it was hard to mistake Darksister for any other blade.

There was no doubting that I was looking at the man who would screw me over horrendously unless I really shook canon up.

Which Viserys took little mind of as he, Alicent and Rhaenyra stood and walked towards the edge of the box. I gave in to peer pressure and followed suit.

"Brother!" Daemon shouted as he approached our box. I noticed his eyes flickered ever so slightly to every person in the box except for me.

"Daemon," Viserys said with a tight smile. "I see you wear a crown of your own now."

"Yes," Daemon responded with relish, "I have claimed the Stepstones with Fire and Blood."

And theatrics apparently, also that was quite a bit of hyperbole on his part given what I recalled about his 'rule'.

"I am pleased to hear of this," Viserys responded with a bit of genuine happiness spreading onto his features. Go ahead and love your brother, Viserys. It's not like he probably screwed your wife and plans to do the same to your daughter or anything.

"I am glad brother," Daemon said with a smile as he pulled off his crown and raised it high. "For I bring it to you in offering, may none doubt my love and loyalty you! My dearest brother."

Ok, bonus points for laying it on that thick. Although given the expression of many for the gathered nobilities faces it was working, damn their gullible souls.

Without a word Viserys descended the stairs of the box and made his way to where the Rogue Prince waited unmoving. I noticed that Viserys actually had about an inch or two over his younger brother who kneeled as his elder approached.

Viserys took the crown into one hand and looked at it for a moment before speaking loudly so that all could hear, "It is a fine thing you have done, Daemon. You brought war to the tyranny of the Triarchy and avenged the many slights they have done to our glorious realm."

That got nods and shouts of approval from the audience as I contemplated smashing my head against the rail of the box. These people were either obsessed with drama or just plain stupid. Not as stupid as Lys enslaving people as their version of a shipping fee but still pretty damned stupid.

"All for your glory, my brother," Daemon answered with a fierce smile as he soaked up the crowd's praise. Oh, that's pure and uncut bullshit! He did it for his ego and Corlys's wallet!

"Father would be proud," Viserys answered with honest happiness on his father. At this point I was desperately trying to keep my hand from palming my face hard enough to render me brain dead.

"I am glad brother," Daemon answered with a beaming smile as he took in the praise.

Viserys nodded before bending down and heaving his brother up into a tight embrace much to the jubilance of the crowd.

With a face-splitting smile Viserys once more addressed the crowd, "While this gift is most appreciated my brother I cannot accept what you have so long toiled for!"

Weren't you funding him?

"Keep you crown but know that you have brought me a far greater gift in your return," were the corners of his eyes wet? This was getting sickening. "Please promise me that you will stay with us for a time, at least a year or two, surely Corlys can manage without you as you rest amongst family?"

"It would be my honor and privilege my brother," Daemon answered with a twinkle in his eye. I certain that that twinkle was a portal to hell.

Maybe I should teach Ser Cole the time-honored tactic of strapping some dynamite to himself and then bear hugging Daemon, preferably before he killed me.

…

As the tourney broke so that all may prepare for the night's feast, the family gathered in the Red Keep to properly greet our prodigal uncle.

"Uncle Daemon!" Rhaenyra said with a excitement as she launched herself at the rogue with a hug.

"Dearest Rhaenyra," Daemon said as he kissed her brow and looked her over. "You have grown beautiful beyond all comparison my dear."

She. Is. Fourteen. You creepy son of a Cersei! A man of thirty has zero business eyeing up a tween like that.

Viserys smiled broadly at the reunion that I was sure he was misreading before clearing his throat. "And brother you remember my queen."

"Ah yes," Daemon said with a slightly stiff smile as he bowed and kissed Alicent's offered hand which was as rigid as stone. "It is a fine thing to see you again Alicent."

"And you Daemon," Alicent returned with an equally empty smile.

Oh shit the rumours were true weren't they, I could sense the tension of ex-lovers from a mile away and it revolted me to my very core. I was going to kill that (potentially literal) motherfucker!

"And these are my sons Aegon and Gaemon," Viserys continued as he either ignored or was dense enough to not notice what had just happened.

"Greetings nephews," Daemon said with an even smaller smile. That guy was getting on my nerves in record time.

"Hi," Aegon said with a clumsy bow. For Bat's sake Aegon, you are making us look bad.

"Aegon!" Alicent reprimanded at the improper greeting.

"It is quite alright Alcient, they are that age after all," he said with patronizing amusement. It was probably that smug look in Daemon's face that made me act without thinking again.

"Greetings dear uncle," I said with a deep and distinctly unchildlike bow before rising to look him square in the eyes. "I have heard much of you and your adventures."

My efforts were rewarded as that perfect mask fractured for just a moment to reveal naked confusion before reassembling into a deep laugh.

"What a remarkable lad, brother!" He said with a grin.

"Yes," Viserys said with a slightly faltered smile. "Gaemon is… somewhat special. In any case these are Helaena and Aemond."

He continued with the introductions and Daemon seemed to dismiss me from his attention but I still felt something between pride and horror. Pride for catching his smug ass off foot and horror at making myself an even bigger dot on his radar.

My panic was interrupted as Rhaenys spilled into the room.

"Daemon," she said loudly as she clasped arms with the rogue.

"Rhaenys!" He answered back with his annoyingly bright smile.

"How is Corlys?" She queried immediately. I wondered if she realized that he already had bastards despite her clear affection?

Daemon laughed at her bluntness, "He is quite well and sends his love. If you wish I could take custody of the pit and you may join him?"

"Now that is a kind offer!" She answered with a bright twinkle in her eyes. I could tell that the old snake was going to get positively rammed the moment she got to him.

"If his grace finds it acceptable that is?" She added in as she remembered that the king was right there.

"Go on, Rhaenys I won't keep you away from your lord husband without cause," Viserys answered merrily.

"By your leave then!" She nodded and made to depart. Crap, need to interfere.

"Are you leaving Rhaeny?" I asked as I ran to pull on her pants.

She looked down on me with a smile, "Aye lad, not really needed here now and I've been away from my man for far too long."

She gave me a wink that I pretended not to understand and tilted my head in confusion. She laughed and ruffled my hair.

"Don't worry about it lad, you will understand when you are older!" She said with another laugh and then a twinkle entered her eye. "Actually, what do you say to a parting gift?"

"A gift?" I ask.

"Want to go for a ride on Meleys?" She asked me suddenly.

"Really?" I try to sound excited which I was. The problem was that it was also a terrifying idea for those of us very much subject to gravity.

"I do not see why not! You are old enough now, would you not say your grace?" She looked over at the smiling Viserys and Alicent whose right eye was starting to twitch ever so slightly.

"I see no reason why not," the king said with a smile. "Why, I think I was the same age when father first took me flying on old Balerion, Daemon as well."

"Hear that lad? No trouble this time," she said with a wink.

"NO!" Surprisingly it was Rhaenyra who shouted before turning to Viserys. "You promised I could take him on his first flight with Syrax!"

"I see no reason why you cannot come princess," Rhaenys rolled her eyes in amusement. "You and Daemon come as well, we can have a little dragon dance with little Gaemon."

Well that was ominous.

Award

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StrangerOrders

23/8/2017

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Chapter Eight: Where is Sleep When You Need It?

I knew I would have to go flying sooner or later, whether on my own dragon (provided I did not die in the attempt, not focusing on that for now) or someone else's. I was secretly rather concerned about it since a Targaryen that did not handle flying well was like a fish that could not swim. I had never been an adventurous person in my past life and frankly I have never been a terribly brave man either. Needless to say, I was surprised by the result.

"This is awesome!!!!!!!" I whooped against the turbulent as Meleys wove through the air. It had been terrifying at first and I still felt like my heart was at the top of my throat but the sheer rush of the wind, the beating of dragon winds and moving wildly through the air was beyond anything I could ever fully describe. It was like being on the world's most insane roller-coaster if you crossed it with sky-diving.

"Relax lad!" Rhaenys laughed behind me as she steered Meleys with whip and reins. Daemon and Rhaenyra were trailing us but they lacked the experience of Rhaenys at handling complex aerial maneuvers.

"This is unbelievable!" I shouted back happily.

"Not as unbelievable as your mother turning into a dragon out of sheer rage if I drop you! Relax and lay back lad!" Rhaenys lectured with cheer still lacing her voice. I relaxed and leaned back into her (which was not that bad of an alternative) even if I did not think it necessary. Alicent had demanded I be wrapped in a triple harness of chains, I would need to sever my damned legs to fall at this point.

As she slowed Meleys down into a cruising speed both of our fellow flyers caught up with us. The speed was slow enough that I could hear Rhaenyra shouting.

"See Gaem?! Is it not the greatest feeling?" She was close enough that I could see her return my ear to ear smile.

"Even better Rhae!" I shouted back. No wonder Aegon's Rhaenys had been so obsessed with riding, this made one want to never land again.

Now that the initial thrill had faded I did take note of something I hadn't before. Rhaenys seemed noticeably more comfortable on her mount than Rhaenyra and Daemon. It was not a matter of control, both seemed to be steering their beasts well-enough.

It was comfort since I lacked a better word for it. Rhaenys used her whip sparingly, one lash with minimal force seeming to accomplish what it took both Daemon and Rhaenyra a few and some coaching to do. I wondered if it had something to do with experience? I took note as much as I could of how each commanded their mount, I did not know how much of it was skill, the Dragon's temperament or just the nature of the rider. If I ever wanted to stand of snowballs chance in hell of someday riding a dragon with anything resembling competence it would be necessary to take all the help I could get.

Still for now I just enjoyed flying through the air on dragon-back. I could resume my existence of fear and paranoia when I touched the ground once more.

…

Sure enough the day ended up on a less than desirable note. No sooner had I arrived than Alicent had my nannies ferrying me off to bed, which to be fair was only responsible if in this case annoying.

Chiefly because even as I was carried away and Rhaenys retired to ready herself for her journey, Daemon and Rhaenyra continued flying. That did not bode well for me, the kingdoms or even the pair themselves.

As I waved Rhaenys goodbye I felt a small pang of regret, I would miss the Kamina-like dragonrider. It did not exactly help things that we were parting as two of the main actors responsible for her doom in another world got more comfortable above us. The woman was truly unlucky: passed over, married to a man twenty-one years her senior, who probably fathered quite a few bastards behind her back, witnessing her children die and then being dragged into a war that would not only purge her family but see her die an incredibly pointless death. I doubted I would be able to do much in the long run but she was likable enough that if I could manage to mitigate the amount of misfortune she received I likely would.

First things first though, I thought to myself as I was retired for the night. I need to get the Daemon situation under control and fast. Lest he threaten my survival.

I was reasonably sure he would not move directly against me since I was not much of a threat, no more than any of my brothers originally were beyond my closer relationship with Rhaenyra. That sadly meant little though as through his actions the so-called 'King of the Stepstones and the Narrow Sea' could pose almost as great a threat to my survival indirectly as he could directly.

So, I did not get much in the way of sleep that night, in the moonlight I wrote as thorough an outline from the Rogue Princeas I could recall.

The staff assumed that they were doodles mostly but I had been fortunate enough to retain my previous language skills which combined with my rather poor penmanship (Quill-manship?) made them useless to any who would try to employ them beyond me. Still they were legable to me which was enough.

In the original timeline (and I have little reason to assume that I have made a difference as of yet), I knew that Daemon supposedly leveraged Rhaenyra's inability to bed Cole as a means to entrench himself as either her lover or pseudo lover depending on sources,

I scratched my chin before scratching out 'pseudo,' if I wanted to succeed I should mainly account for the worst possible scenarios.

In any case he remained at court for six months during which he lauded her fairly constantly which did not give me much for establishing a timeline of events in any meaningful way. Which meant that I had to be as proactive as possible, which meant that I needed information.

Were it not for my seething hatred for Cole I would recruit him to this end but sadly I could not in good conscience condemn an ally to the laxative-induced death I wished for him.

Alicent would be a terrible choice for so many reasons that it hurt.

I could not do it myself either. I lacked the access to follow them without notice and if I made it too obvious then they could readily avoid me with their superior freedom. I also did not want to put myself even more obviously in Daemon's crosshairs or even worse to sow the seeds of Rhaenyra eventually wanting to kill me.

I needed some way of monitoring what was happening with Rhaenyra and Daemon, preferably a reliable way which was unlikely to draw too much unwanted attention. Fortunately, I knew exactly how, or more accurately who would be able to do this for me.

I went to bed quite happy that I had more or less worked out a solid game-plan.

…

When I awoke as bid my closest nanny to go fetch him.

Mida had been the woman whom I had interacted with when I had first entered this world and she was quite honestly the one which I had most firmly under my thumb. Granted I was fairly sure that most of the nannies were the closest things to 'my creatures' which I could have at the moment even if they probably answered to someone else, either Alicent or that old man who was the current Master of Whispers. Mida was the only one whom I trusted completely (in as much as I am capable of trust at this point), she seemed just a bit more isolated from the other nannies and she was by far the most obsessively prone to obeying my whims. I had no clue why but I was not looking into that gift-horse's mouth until I had other horses to pick from.

Surely enough she delivered the one I had sent for to me as soon as my brothers were taken elsewhere. Little Helaena was the quietest child I had ever seen so I was not too concerned over the one-year old's presence.

"Mushroom, Mushroom! The little prince want'a see the Mushroom!" The fool said as Mida led him into the room.

Sure enough he was as the books described him with a massive head and small frame dressed in a ridiculous black and red costume. Honestly it did not say much about everyone at the Keep that he was able to pass himself off as a simple man, all he did to keep up the act was move with a skip and twist his speech patterns. His eyes are a giveaway though, the hazel orbs constantly move about every room I had ever seen him enter, devouring every little detail. A shameless gossip perhaps, but a knowledgeable one.

"Mida?" I asked brightly.

"Yes, my prince?" She asked eagerly.

"Could you please show my sister the harbor?" I ask happily.

"Of course, my prince," She follows through with no complaint whatsoever leaving me and the fool alone.

"You can drop the act," I said curtly the moment the door closed.

"Mushroom?" The dwarf responded with a look of confusion on his face.

It was unproductive to waste time, especially given that I needed every moment to guarantee the future integrity of my rear. "I know that you are not a lackwit."

"Mushro-" He was about to continue.

"Say 'Mushroom' again and I will have your head sautéed to see if it tastes like a mushroom," I said coldly and without any trace of hesitation. The fool would serve my means but between his defamation of people I had grown attached to and his being a blatant Ser Criston fanboy, I was not about to be excessively kind. It was completely about the former and not at all about the latter.

The fool froze at the threat.

"I have no intention of mentioning it to anyone, in fact it would not be very helpful to my agenda," I speak with as much force as I can. 'Too chaste,' how dare he so blatantly white-knight a literal white-knight… and make Rhaenyra look bad, that too. Partially.

"Mus-" I narrow my eyes at the man and he awkwardly clears his throat, "I get your meaning milord."

At that I brighten my features, "See! Was that so difficult?"

He eyes me for a moment.

"Well Mushroom, I need a favor," Still all smiles. Don't focus on the Criston element, enlightenment can come later.

The 'fool' furrows his brows, "A favor milord?"

"Everyone else thinks that you are a fool," I shrug half-heartedly. "I know that you are probably privy to more secrets to the goings on in this castle than even their supposed 'master'."

My shameless appeal to his indignation and ego go off without a hitch. He straightens his posture and clears his throat again, "You're not in the wrong, milord."

"That is fantastic!" I walk up to him and clasp one hand to his shoulder with perhaps more than a little bit of force. "Then we are going to be just the best of friends."

I really hoped that I did not look anywhere near as shady saying that as I felt.

Also, I hoped that I did not show that it took entirely too much restraint to keep myself from focusing on the dwarf's stance towards a certain knight. I feared that I might have a problem.

…

So, I got Mushroom on my side. Sort of. Granted it was gained through a mix of threats and entirely too much flattery (my claiming that it was his comedic genius that tipped me off may have been laying it on a little thick) but it had been worth it to access one of the more useful information-gathering agents in the Keep. Granted we had agreed that he would not do anything to put himself at risk but even if I can get a less propagandized version of the Testimony of Mushroom that would already be invaluable. Especially given GRRM's statement in an interview that the fault of Mushroom had less to do with accuracy and more that he tended to infer the worst possible motive.

Which would have made it a decent enough week after hurricane Daemon made a touchdown. Aside from raining enough gifts on Rhaenyra that I contemplated getting her an umbrella, he had yet to do anything too creepy. Predictably none of us had received gifts aside from her, Viserys and oddly enough Helaena (I was desperately trying to repress any potential implications there).

However one small hiccup had popped up that I had not been expecting, Daemon had begun speaking about me.

"Brother, you must allow little Gaemon to come squire for me when he is of age," He proclaimed on the seventh day since his arrival. I wondered if he times it because I damned near chocked on watered down wine when he said it.

"A marvelous idea Daemon," Viserys answered with all smiles.

Rhaenyra clapped in enthusiasm, "That would be exciting! Would it not, Gaemon?"

"Y-Yes," I stuttered. NO, no it would not! Was I the only one that saw what was wrong with this picture?

Sadly we were caught in a storm and the boy lost his footing.

Regrettably he fell from his horse.

Arrows are horribly unpredictable things I'm afraid.

Some miserable rogue drove a dagger into his heart for his coin.

He slipped down some stairs.

He slipped and fell onto Darksister.

Was I the only one that could see the excuses to justify my sudden and tragic death just running through his mind as he smiled at me?

"My love," Alicent said as she gently laid her hand onto Viserys's own. Her face was as pale as I felt at the idea. "Is he not too young to speak of such thing?"

Yes mothe-Alicent, you are absolutely right. No need to be unreasonable now, kids grow up so fast these days, let them enjoy it and all that!

"If I may, your grace," Ser Cole commented. "It is never too early for a young man to start contemplating his future."

While many of the men uttered words of agreement and the Kingsguard nodded proudly to their sworn brother, I was of a distinctly different mind.

Oh, you can go straight to hell Cole! Straight through the bottom of the ninth circle and into super-hell! Which is much like normal hell if it had been authored by GRRM.

"Are you suggesting yourself as a potential mentor for young Gaemon, Ser Cole?" Alicent asked.

It was a tragedy, chestplate had several inexplicable structural weaknesses.

A pity, Super-Dysentery is a horrible way to die.

How was I supposed to know that he was not immune to plague?

For some reason, he fell off of the battlement, I suspect depression.

Someone had filled his chamber pot with Wildfire, tragic.

Touché Daemon, touché.

"I would not presume to place myself over a prince of the blood," Cole answered diplomatically with a polite nod towards Daemon. A shame really.

"In any case Daemon, I do fear that my wife is not wrong," Viserys said with a look towards his pale queen. "Let us postpone to topic for a few years then?"

"Of course," Daemon answered brightly. "My offer will still stand I assure you."

Note to self. Find a good knight to squire under and beg him to take me under his wing… Or maybe I can come up with a really good excuse not to be here?

Under most circumstances I would have not slept that night out of sheer anxiety but the dreams tended to have terrible timing.

…

"Again!" The master yelled as the pig's throat was cut before Qelos and the servants retreated quickly.

He held before the carcass this time, only thrity tries to get this far. Two days since this latest torment had commenced.

"Qelos. Dracarys. Full Strength." She spoke quietly as the now larger dragon released his flame on the corpse. A fine and lengthy cone resulting from hours of ceaseless training. Where most dragons his age would take a half of a minute to suitable incinerate the body, he turned it to ash in an instant and she let out a deep sigh of relief. Both she and her beloved companion bore the marks of failure, whip and scourge were meted out at this stage. Strikes were mercy offered to novice children, mistakes now were heresy and punished accordingly.

She relaxed too quickly however as Qelos lunged forward to sniff the ashes in search of something large enough to eat. Before she could even utter a word the behemoth behind her master had already uncurled her massive neck and latched her jaws onto the back of Qelos head in a control bite. Must dragons of such size and strength would have crushed the skull of the lesser creature between their jaws in the attempt but this one merely held Qelos in place as her partner approached Gaema.

Both she and her partner were statues. They understood what came next.

"Because you have already borne your fourteen lashes today without complaint nor healing I will offer you mercy," the Master said in his wispy voice as his ancient features surveyed her. "Do you fail to understand the purpose of this exercise?"

"To test the strength of his fi-," She stopped the moment he master raised his hand hard enough to bite her tongue.

"If control of the forge-flame was not yet sufficient then you would not be here," he noted.

"Then I confess my ignorance," lying and pride only brought worse punishment.

"The scent of pig and man is not dissimilar when cooked," he stated simply. "This is an exercise meant to teach your dragon to burn man but not devour."

"I-I do not understand," She said hesitantly. Rather than raise his fist or whip the master did something she had never seen him do.

He smiled as he rolled up one of his sleeves to reveal the marks of blood-healed lines crossing throughout his flesh.

"Neither did I one child," he said. "The flesh of man while valuable for other works is not suited to our art."

"But my father always said that the flesh of man gives dragons strength?" In fact, she had always been told that many slaves were bought for such a purpose. To spend such a valuable commodity to strengthen one's own dragon was a great sign of wealth and status, if secondary to feeding on foes slain in true battle.

Once again a smile on those ancient features, "That is correct child, they grow faster and more aggressive when properly nourished with man-flesh."

He walked over to the great monster and patted it gently, "However like all magic where the cost is paid by another, it is ultimately a poor bargain. A dragon fed such a way will be fortunate to make it two and a half centuries whereas one which avoids the flesh of man can reach four."

"So the secret to longevity of the dragons within the orders is no secret at all?" She asked with a furrowed brow.

"Perhaps, if one wishes a dragon for war and a beast to war on men then it is a reasonable course," He eyed her. "Consider however that such beasts are more akin to common horses, brutish things needing whip and simplicity, unable to fully control their fire and short-lived."

As he returned to his seat and his dragon released Qelos the Master added, "The method of warriors is fine but few Orders can afford anything less than full control to work our art. We are also far too selfish as we are unwilling to chain our lives to short-lived beasts. Now"

Another pig was brought into the arena.

"Again."Chapter Eight: Where is Sleep When You Need It?