Chapter 19 — Vale Storm
The scented candles in the Red Keep's study burned low, casting long, wavering shadows across shelves lined with ancient scrolls. Prince Daemon Targaryen stood before King Jaehaerys and Queen Alysanne, his silver hair glinting like tempered steel under the flickering light.
He spoke without hesitation, his voice carrying both conviction and challenge.
> "The marriage between Princess Rhaenys and the Sea Snake has not strengthened House Targaryen, Grandfather. It has only birthed a rival. Corlys Velaryon commands the richest fleet in Westeros, and Rhaenys—once our blood—now looks upon the Iron Throne as her children's birthright."
Queen Alysanne's calm eyes flickered, her voice soft but unyielding.
> "That is unfair, Daemon. When Aemon yet lived, Rhaenys was his heir, and her marriage to Corlys was perfect—noble blood wedded to great wealth. It was not the match that failed, but fate itself. Aemon's death changed everything."
For a long moment, silence filled the chamber. The old king's face, lined with years of ruling and regret, grew somber. Jaehaerys had always favored his son Baelon as heir, while Alysanne had stood firmly by Rhaenys. The question of succession—son or granddaughter, male or female—had driven a cold wind through the royal marriage for years.
Daemon knew it well. In this lifetime, he would not let such divisions tear House Targaryen apart.
He looked to Gael—sweet, pale-haired Gael—standing quietly beside the Queen. Their hands brushed lightly, unnoticed by all but the flames.
King Jaehaerys sighed and said at last,
> "Perhaps… Daemon marrying Gael may be the best choice."
Queen Alysanne's lips pressed thin.
> "Daemon is a storm, my king. And Gael… she is too gentle, too much like Daella. Pairing them would be cruelty disguised as love."
Gael's eyes brimmed with determination.
> "If I cannot marry Daemon, Mother, I will devote myself to the Faith and become a septa."
That struck the Queen silent. Even Jaehaerys shifted uneasily. Before either could respond, a sharp knock came at the door.
> "Enter," said the King.
Archmaester Elysar stepped in, flanked by his young assistant. He bore a raven's scroll sealed with blue wax.
> "Black wings bring black tidings, Your Grace. Tragedy has struck the Vale. Lord Artys Arryn and his two sons fell in an ambush by the Stone Crows in the Mountains of the Moon. Only a handful survived."
The King's face darkened.
> "Artys Arryn slain? Impossible. He commanded half the knights of the Vale."
> "Ambushed in a narrow pass, Your Grace," said Elysar gravely. "The mountain clans rained stones and arrows from the cliffs. The Lord of Runestone, Yobert Royce, barely escaped alive—his life saved only by the runes upon his bronze armor. He has since gathered the remnants of the Vale host and driven the clans back into the mountains. But…"
The Archmaester hesitated.
> "Pirates from the Three Sisters now raid the coasts. Old Anchor, Gulltown, and even Runestone suffer. Lord Sunderland of the Sisters hangs men by the dozens, yet the seas remain wild."
Queen Alysanne frowned.
> "The Sistermen must be dealt with. The Sea Snake's fleet could scour them from the Narrow Sea."
But King Jaehaerys's thoughts were elsewhere. He knew what would follow—once the Sea Snake's ships entered the Vale, Corlys Velaryon and Princess Rhaenys would claim new allies among the Vale's nobles. With the North and Stormlands already showing sympathy toward the Sea Snake, the balance of power could shift dangerously.
He turned to Daemon, his expression suddenly sharp with purpose.
> "Daemon, Rhea Royce is heir to Runestone. If you were to wed her, House Royce would stand firmly behind the Crown—and behind your father."
Daemon met his grandfather's gaze. His violet eyes, burning with quiet amusement, betrayed no submission.
> "If Your Grace wishes to strengthen the Vale, why not have my father marry her? A princess turned queen would please Lord Royce even more."
Prince Baelon's jaw tightened.
> "Daemon, enough. I've no wish to wed again. Your mother's memory is not one I mean to dishonor."
Daemon inclined his head, half in mockery, half in sincerity.
> "Then perhaps Viserys should go north with Aemma Arryn. The Vale is her mother's home. The lords there would follow her blood more readily than bronze."
King Jaehaerys exhaled through his nose, weary but amused by his grandson's cleverness.
> "Ever the schemer. Still, the Vale must be bound closer to us, and marriage remains the surest chain."
> "Chains," Daemon murmured, "are for those without dragons."
Queen Alysanne broke her silence, her voice tinged with both pride and sadness.
> "Daemon, you are too much like your namesake—the Black Dragon who once burned half Valyria. You think strength alone can keep peace. But even dragons must bend to love… or they burn everything."
Gael stepped forward and took Daemon's hand openly this time.
> "Then let love burn, if it must. I choose him."
Alysanne's lips parted in protest, but the King raised his hand. His old eyes softened as they passed from one grandchild to the other.
> "So be it. The gods may curse me for it, but perhaps this storm will forge peace where reason could not."
Daemon bowed, a faint smile curling his lips.
> "Then we shall make the storm our wedding song."
King Jaehaerys's voice echoed in the study:
> "Prepare the wedding. Let the realm see that the blood of the dragon remains unbroken."
Outside, thunder rolled over the city. From the towers of the Red Keep, a crimson dragon took flight—its shadow sweeping across the rooftops of King's Landing as if to herald the birth of a new age.
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