Game Of Thrones: The Dragon Targaryen

Malessa Rykker had taken the news of her husband's death well. It was to be expected, as she had only known Renfred Rykker marginally and spent a grand total of fifteen hours with the man once married. While she had been suitably saddened for the loss of her unborn child's father, Aelor knew it was far from the bitter mourning he himself had fallen into upon Elia's murder.

But as the Prince heard her cries from outside her chambers, he briefly wondered if she had the worse end of the deal.

Malessa's labor came on quickly in the middle of the night, the midwives that her father Donnel had kept permanently at the Keep entering and exiting the room rapidly as the Prince tried desperately to stay out of the way. Aelor had requested to be notified as soon as his best friend's widow went into labor, and now found himself leaning against a wall at the end of the hall outside. Lord Donnel, still in rumpled bedclothes, paced the hall in worry, hands wringing. Aelor had given up trying to calm the first time grandfather, instead tucking himself into a corner out of the way.

He wished for the thousandth time that Renfred was here. His friend had slogged through months of bloody campaign for the child only now coming into the world, dying in a nameless ford for its future. And for Aelor, which is why the Prince was here now. I promised you your child would want for nothing, Ren. I meant it. Strong shield old friend, wherever you are.

When the first cries of a newborn filled the hall, only slightly muffled by the walls of the Keep, Aelor thought Lord Donnel was going to faint, the middle aged man and his mustache going stock still. It took several minutes, during which even Aelor became concerned, before the door opened, revealing to the Prince's surprise a harried looking Ashara Dayne.

The raven haired, violet eyed woman smiled warmly at Lord Donnel, turning her body to present to him a small bundle, though it wasn't nearly as small as Aelor was expecting. Even from his position at the end of the hall Aelor could see the newborn's face, red and angry looking, glaring out of the swaddles at its grandfather.

"It is a boy, Lord Donnel, and healthy as can be."

Donnel stared at the bundle, his lips turning up at the corners ever so slightly. "Seven hells he's big."

Ashara laughed lightly. "The biggest baby the midwife has ever delivered. Malessa did beautifully, and is recovering well." Ashara Dayne offered him the child, smiling even more when Buckwell took the child with the practiced hands of a father.

The former handmaiden to the Queen then turned her eyes to the Prince, though how in blazes she spotted his black clothing in the dim torchlight he couldn't say. "She is naming the child Aelor."

Emotion hit the Dragon of Duskendale as hard as Gregor Clegane's fist had months ago. He swallowed once, twice, three times before he could manage a word. "Aelor Rykker?"

Ashara's face was warm, her smile just a tad sad as she approached him, Lord Donnel braving the birthing chamber behind her with the new Lord of Hollard Hall. "Malessa said it was Renfred's wish. He wrote it in his last letter to her, written the night before the Trident."

The Dragon Prince had to look away, not willing to let Ashara watch as he composed himself. When he finally looked back he had returned his scarred face to normal, though his voice had an edge to it that even he himself heard. "Renfred always did have a poetic streak somewhere in that bloody big body."

Ashara leaned against the wall beside him, laughing lightly. "He truly did. The child is big; I daresay he will be a near twin to Renfred when he is in his prime."

Aelor snorted out a laugh. "I'd best keep Rhaenys on a tight leash then when they get older then. Renfred was a six and half foot menace to every young woman in the Keep and half the older ones since he was fourteen, be they pretty or not." The Prince turned to appraise the shorter woman beside him. "Why were you in there, exactly?"

Ashara shrugged, turning her violet eyes to meet the similarly colored ones of the Prince Regent. "Malessa is a sweetheart, and we have grown close since she came to the capital at the onset of the war. She was understandably scared and in need of a friend, so I obliged her." Lady Dayne's face fell quickly, a pained expression crossing her face as she looked away to stare at the floor. "I was there for Elia with both Rhaenys and Aegon."

A wave of raw pain tore back through the Dragon of Duskendale, followed closely by the black hate that always accompanied it. He said nothing, clenching his jaw and staring sightlessly ahead, the face of his brother's wife flashing across his mind to turn those waves of pain and hate into a near storm.

Fire and Blood, love. I will avenge you with Fire and Blood.

Ashara's soft voice cut through the maelstrom forming in his mind. "What will become of Malessa now that Renfred is gone?"

Aelor cleared his throat, though in truth he needed to clear his mind. "I promised Ren I would care for them both, and I shall. The babe—"

"Aelor."

"Aelor is the Lord of Hollard Hall now. I will kill any who threaten his position as such, though the only other member of House Rykker still living is Ser Jaremy, now a sworn brother of the Night's Watch and subsequently disqualified from any type of inheritance."

"And Malessa?"

"Lord Buckwell will have a say, as will Malessa herself of course, but I suppose she will marry again, whether to a knight or lord I could not begin to guess. If she for whatever reason doesn't she will always have a place here in the capital."

Ashara nodded, seemingly pleased. "Good. She is a sweetheart, and deserves happiness."

"She'll have it, I promise you." Aelor turned to glance at Ashara. "What of you?"

"Me?"

"You. Elia is…gone. What is holding you here?"

Ashara Dayne smirked slightly, shooting the Prince a face that told him the answer should be obvious. "I thought you would know that, Prince Aelor. It is the children. Aegon and Rhaenys have no parents, though they certainly don't lack loving family members. I was here when they were brought into the world, and I would see Elia's children live happily for the rest of their days."

Aelor turned his gaze back down the hall, jaw clenching again. "That is noble of you, Lady Dayne."

"No more noble than you, Prince Aelor. Any other man with your power and influence—not to mention your family name—would be a king by now, surpassing the mere child ahead of him in the line of succession. I daresay most of the lords wouldn't even bat an eyelash."

Aelor's lip curled. "I would never do Elia the dishonor, nor my brother. Aegon is the rightful King of the Iron Throne, and I will remove any who take issue just as violently as I can."

Ashara Dayne let the silence drag out for a moment before her soft voice spoke again. "You loved her, didn't you."

It was a statement, not a question, and Aelor saw no point in pretending it was incorrect. He continued to stare ahead, his own voice coming out as faint as whisper. "Yes."

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Ashara nod, joining the Prince in staring down the hall without actually seeing anything, both of their minds lost in thought. The silence dragged on, the shuffle of the army of midwives Donnel Buckwell had recruited as they one by one left the new mother and her newborn son to try and salvage some sleep. Through the window behind him the sky was already beginning lighten, dawn nearing rapidly.

When she spoke again, it was so quiet that Aelor nearly didn't hear it. "Does it make it better or worse that she loved you back?"

Aelor swallowed, eyes falling to the stone beneath his feet. "Both. It makes it both."

His mostly sleepless night turned into a long morning.

The Small Council reconvened not long after the messenger arrived, Aelor only glancing at Barristan briefly when the representative of the Kingsguard entered. Aelor thought he was too numb for anything to affect him overly much anymore, but the news the man of House Sunglass brought him very nearly did.

The members of the council had no sooner gathered than Aelor delivered the news. "My mother is dead."

A shocked silence held the chamber for a moment before Barristan spoke. "Queen Rhaella?"

Aelor nodded shortly. "The child came on the first night of the storm. A girl, healthy and strong. My mother didn't live long after delivering her, but she lived long enough to name her Daenerys."

"Daenerys Stormborn," Varys said quietly. "How is Prince Viserys?"

Aelor grimaced. "He is apparently inconsolable. Prince Lewyn has tried to care for him, but Viserys is reacting violently to any attempt at contact. I am sending orders back to Prince Lewyn to bring both my sister and my brother to King's Landing as soon Daenerys is old enough for travel." Aelor sighed. "Which brings me to the next order of business; our fleet is gone."

"Gone?" Lord Royce asked, thick eyebrows furrowing.

"The storm was particularly savage at Dragonstone. The entire Royal Navy was destroyed. The messenger was only able to bring word via a commandeered fishing boat. It is reasonable to assume the Redwyne Fleet sieging Storm's End was similarly damaged."

Randyll Tarly's voice was, if possible, even more grim than usual. "The fleet at Lannisport was most likely undamaged, meaning Lannister has superiority at sea. If the Redwyne Fleet was similarly damaged, Lannister will have free reign."

"No, he won't."

Aelor's voice held nothing but confidence, something that was decidedly lacking on the other councilmen's faces, barring Varys who knew precisely what the Dragon of Duskendale was talking about. Royce didn't, and voiced his confusion. "Your Grace?"

Aelor nodded confidently. "Trust me, my lords; Lannister does not have control of the sea. It has been taken care of. Our main order of business is rebuilding the Royal Navy for future use." He turned to Manderly. "Lord Treasurer?"

Lord Wyman had a stack of parchment before him, his fat fingers inkstained from consistent use of ink and quill over the last few days. "We still have much work to do, my lords, but inquiries have been sent to the Iron Bank of Braavos concerning potential debts. The current vaults in the treasury are still being inventoried, but I can begin arranging the delivery and hiring of necessary materials and craftsmen to the location of your choosing at once."

Aelor nodded. "We have the facilities here in King's Landing. Begin working out contracts on lumber and craftsmen. We will determine the number of sh.i.p.s to commission as soon as the war in the west is over."

Wyman nodded. "It will be done."

"Ser Barristan." Aelor said his former mentor's name with no small amount of ice in his tone.

The knight of the Kingsguard met his eyes. "Your Grace?"

"Jaime Lannister's position as a member of the Kingsguard is obviously at an end, whether he dies fighting the crown or is executed afterwards a mere side note. Compile a list of potential Kingsguard candidates while we are away on campaign."

Aelor could see Barristan wanted to insist on coming, but the knight had the self-restraint to merely nod. "It will be done."

Varys took the opportunity to speak up. "My birds tell me Lord Lefford has yet to call his banners, still seemingly unaware of what has occurred thanks to Ser Manfred. The flanking force should be able to reach the Golden Tooth long before they are ready."

Aelor nodded. "Excellent. The army will depart tomorrow, gentlemen. Lord Donnel Buckwell will maintain regency of the city. This was a short meeting intended to inform you of my mother and the Navy's demise." Aelor stood. "We will adjourn until the War in the West is won."

Lord Royce spoke up again. "Prince Aelor, if I may ask, the Lannister navy—"

"Will not be a concern for much longer, Lord Royce." Aelor smiled, a cold, angry thing. "I promise you that."