Chapter 80: Chapter 40: Heir to the Iron Throne (Matarys, Laena, Vaemond)

12th of 2nd Moon, 8038

Queens Ballroom, Vaemonds Holdfast within the Red Keep

The Queens Ballroom was loud with the sounds of celebration for the prince and princesses 5th nameday celebration.

The ballroom was the final addition to the Red Keep, part of what was known as Vaemonds Holdfast, a castle within a castle, the holdfast containing the royal apartments as well as the Queens Ballroom, a small keep with beaten silver walls that could seat 100. The holdfast was surrounded by 12 foot thick red brick walls and a drawbridge separating it from the rest of the castle, making it the most secure part of the red keep.

Servants darted in and out, refilling cups and bringing in new courses, while musicians played a merry tune for the court.

Prince Matarys, commander of the Gold Cloaks and brother to the King, stood in the corner of the ballroom, a cup of wine in hand, with his lady wife Demerei Royce, and his brother by law Ser Byren Royce, a sworn brother of the Kingsguard.

He glanced up onto the small raised dais where his brother was sitting with Nyel and his children  , Laena looking bored as usual, plump little Alyssane enjoying the breakfast spread, while the two young twins happily opened their gifts.

Shortly after his brothers return from Dark Den, Nyel had announced her pregnancy to the court, and had given birth to a healthy set of twins, a boy and a girl, Prince Vaekar and Princess Cymella, though Matarys’s sister had nearly died giving birth to Cymella, who even at five had clearly inherited her fathers robust build and was tall for her age.

His brother stood up from his chair and clapped his hands, the servants bringing two more gifts for the twins.

The King had put on weight in recent years. Vaemond had always been a big man, but in recent years that muscle had turned to flesh, and his once hard and lean stomach had run to fat. Vaemond had spent much of his early adulthood while on campaign and was a common sight in the training yard during those years, but after his experience at Dark Den he no longer trained at arms with the same fervor, and the almost decades long peace since the end of the Lions Rebellion had taken their toll on the King, who preferred to spend time with his family at table than the training yard.

In truth, even if his brother had wished to return to the rigors of campaigning, he would have had scarce opportunities too, as the realm had experienced an almost unprecedented peace in the 12 years since the Lion's Rebellion ended.

To be sure there had been some troubles, such was unavoidable in a realm the size of the seven Kingdoms. There had been a few months of bloodshed in the Westerlands when a coalition led by Sumner Crakehall had deposed Loren Lannisters weak and craven fool of a son Damon, aptly known as the indolent and replaced him with a grandson of Loren Lannister by his daughter and a hedge knight. There had been a  few battles but given as Damon had little support most of the campaign was spent in besieging his followers castles into submission rather than pitched battle.

There had also been another flare up in tensions between the Sistermen and the knights of the Vale, who had once again strong armed Ronnel Arryn into declaring a campaign to bring back the Sistermen under the authority of the Vale rather than the Iron Throne, decades early the Sistermen had repelled a similar invasion, but they were up against it this time.

Vaemonds father Aegon had promised the Sistermen would only swear loyalty to the throne, but Vaemond made no move to interfere, much as it pained him, he was willing to overlook such transgressions due to his friendship with Ronnel Arryn, and he did not wish to risk escalating or prolonging the conflict and suffering by providing support to the sistermen, and besides that, the Vale did have a legitimate grievance that the islands and their taxes and levies, despite their proximity were not sworn to the Eyrie.

Besides that, with the exception of some skirmishes between the Starks and the northern Mountain Clans, there had been a long peace that Westeros had never known, not even under King Aegon.

Princess Cymella squealed in delight as she opened her gift, a fine red dress with a necklace of pearls, made from the finest myrish silk money could buy, while little Vaekar received a set of custom sized squires armor of black plate and garnets, along with a small sword and shield that he would use when he made the transition from his fathers page to his squire in a few years.

‘’You will grow into it.’’ Vaemond said, ruffling the prince's head.

‘’The time is right…..your brother will name an heir soon…he must, and if he is to be encouraged to name Laena his heir we should show him he has our support….either that or the other option’’ Ser Byren Royce said, the beaten silver walls illuminating his disfigured face.

‘’My brother has my support no matter who he chooses.’’ Matarys said uncertainly.

The vast majority of Lords expected Vaemond to name his son Vaekar as the Lord of Dragonstone and heir to the Iron Throne, sooner rather than later, perhaps as soon as later that evening at the feast celebrating the crown prince's 5th nameday.

Matarys was not so sure however, his brother adored his eldest daughter Laena, and it was clear the girl was extremely intelligent, if rather uninterested in her studies, and he had oft heard his brother remarking, almost as if testing the waters, that the girl would make a fine Queen, though all of this had been before he had finally fathered a son however, and even Matarys could not ascertain his brothers plan.

‘’If we are too do this it must be Jaekar, contrary to what the smallfolk and fisherwives say there is no sure way of determining the sex of the child before its birth…there is no way to guarantee I am carrying a girl…you cannot go before the King and barter with a chest you do not know the contents of, it makes a poor merchant who does not even know his own stock.’’ His wife Demerei said, hands placed protectively over her belly.

Ser Byren Royce nodded his assent ‘’It would of course be better if it were Jaekar we offered to match…he is a boy after all.’’

Matarys knew his brother in laws motivations well enough, Ser Byren was in constant communication with his kin back in Runestone, and Matarys knew his wife's side of the family well enough to know that the Royces wanted a child of their blood to sit the Iron Throne, either as King Consort or Queen, though no doubt they thought that if Jaekar were chosen as King Consort to Laena he would be able to wield real power and ‘’control’’ his lady wife.

They have never met Laena Matarys thought, taking a sip of wine, his son Jaekar was a quiet and kindhearted boy,though he may well have a chance to serve as King Consort, the idea he could control his older cousin was laughable.

Matarys had changed much in the years since his appointment as commander of the city watch though one thing that had not changed was his attitude towards power, he was content with his lot in life. One thing that he had found himself thinking more about however was the future of his children.

The thought of one of his children upon the Iron Throne, either his son betrothed to Laena or a potential daughter betrothed to Vaekar was a thought that was never far from his mind, something that he never would have considered important in his past.

I am just as much a son of the conqueror as Vaemond Matarys thought to himself, his line deserved to sit the Iron Throne just as much as his brothers, and a union between his children and Vaemonds was the perfect compromise to achieve that.

‘’Even with all of this your brother may not agree to a betrothal, the great lords of the realm will be drowning him in a sea of parchment to see one of their own as King Consort if Laena is named heir, or one of their daughters as Queen if Vaekar is chosen…those lords can offer rich dowries and the loyalty of thousands of men….brother or not a match between his heir and his niece or nephew will bring little in the way of advantage.’’ Demerei cautioned.

‘’Jaekar has a dragon….Laena was given an egg three years ago and it has not hatched….I would say that is advantage enough….a betrothal between the two would bind my son and his dragon to Laena if she should be named the heir.’’ Matarys pointed out.

A few years prior his son Jaekar had been given a dragons egg, the color of molten fire lain by Moondancer as a reward from Vaemond for his first year of loyal service as a squire and shortly afterwards he had hatched an orange dragon he had named Oathwing, while the egg given to Laena had not yet hatched. The dragon was small as of now, but no doubt would one day grow as Narrah and Moondancer had.

‘’Aye….the King would be wise to realize that the friendship of House Royce and a dragon are more than sufficient advantages to agree to the match.’’ Ser Byren of the Kingsguard said.

‘’I will speak to Vaemond about it.’’ Matarys said, taking another cup of wine.

‘’It may be that all of this is for naught….we don't even know if Vaemond will name Laena his heir.’’ Demerei warned once again, and with that sobering thought, they left their scheming to mingle with the other guests.

 

 

One Hour Later

Laena watched the festivities from the corner of the ballroom with thinly veiled distaste.

All this for a little child She thought to herself with disgust staring at her little brother who had been helped into his squires armor and entertaining the crowd with clumsy strikes with his new sword.

Her uncle Matarys was speaking to her father about something, while her mother was entertaining the ladies of the court with a funny tale about Cymella who was showing off her new dress while her little sister Alyssane gorged herself on lemon cakes.

A servant came by with a platter of iced milk, hippocras and watered wine but Laena waved the servant away, if she really meant to go through with this then she would need her wits about her.

Her cousin Jaekar skulked towards her, providing an unwanted interruption to her brooding.

‘’What do you want?’’ Laena asked with annoyance.

‘’No need to get cross…..I brought you something.’’ He said, offering her a plate of orange cakes and bread with bits of sweetened lemon, fresh from the ovens.

‘’And why would you think I would need this?’’ She asked.

 ‘’You hardly ate anything I saw….and I figured you could use something to help you forget about tonight.’’ Jaekar responded.

‘’And what is happening tonight that I should forget about?’’ Laena asked, she knew perfectly well but she would make him say it all the same.

Her cousin looked uncomfortable, hesitating a moment before responding ‘’It's all around the castle….everyone expects your father to name Vaekar as his heir at the feast tonight.’’

Laena did not respond, her cousin gaping at her like a fish out of water.

‘’Laena…’’ He began, offering the plate once more, to which she promptly shoved in his face, smushing orange and lemon pastries all over his face, leaving her cousin with a bewildered and rather ridiculous looking expression as she stormed off.

She felt the eyes of the court upon her, her cheeks burning a bright red to match her mood.

In truth she did not need Jaekar to tell her that she was going to be replaced, she had known it ever since her mother had brought that squealing whelp of a brother into the world, overhearing the Maester saying that the realm at long last had an heir, yet nonetheless her cousins words had stung.

It had only gotten worse in the leadup to her brothers 5th nameday, and the quiet mumblings of who was to be named heir to the Iron Throne became much louder and the expected proclamation of Prince Vaekar as the heir to the Iron Throne and Prince of Dragonstone had become the rage of courtly gossip.

The worst part of it were the looks, the looks of pity that were cast upon her, when the guests could tear their attention away from their beloved prince of five of course.

Ser Roland Crakehall was giving her one such look as he exited the ballroom.

‘’Will you be needing an escort Princess?’’ The big knight asked gently.

‘’I am just going to my chambers.’’ Laena said, not even breaking her stride as she made her way to the royal apartments.

You would make a fine Queen…the lords of the realm would be lucky to have you The words entered unbidden into her mind as the memory of her fathers words in front of the Iron Throne reverberated in her mind.

That was worse than the glances….the hardest part, the dagger in the back…..her father, the one person she had always trusted and confided in had betrayed her.

He never meant it…..he only said that because he didn't have a son….fool Laena thought to herself, the anger rising once again in her until she could taste the bile at the back of her throat.

She could not say what it was, the memory of her fathers words, Ser Rolands pitying glance or her cousins stupid offer of orange cakes….or a combination of all of them, but in that moment walking from the royal ballroom to the large keep which housed the royal apartments she made her decision.

I will not be replaced by a child of five She thought to herself, quickening her pace.

Once she arrived at her chambers she took off her heeled shoes and laced on her riding boots, changing out of her fine clothes into a black jerkin stitched with silver inlay in the shape of a dragon and pulling on an unassuming hooded brown cloak she kept for the occasion that she should pass unnoticed, and for good measure she armed herself with two daggers she had nicked from the armory, one sheathed at the side of her jerkin and another in her boot.

She hesitated for a moment, wondering if she had enough, and trying to remember her fathers tale of his own exploit when he was her age.

I am the blood of the Dragon….that is enough She thought to herself, hurrying out of her chambers and out into the courtyard of the Holdfast, the breakfast reception would soon end and no doubt her mother or father would wish to speak with her about something before the night's feast.

Hurrying through the courtyard, she saw one of the Dragon Cloaks was standing guard on the drawbridge from the inner holdfast to the main keep that was oft to call her the ‘’little princess’’ and would surely recognize her.

She pulled up her hood and approached.

I am not your little princess…..and if you do not let me pass I will have  my father will take your tongue She recited in her head, preparing for him stopping her, but fortunately the guard paid her little mind among the throng of servants and grooms preparing for the feast, his attentions focused instead on a group of passing serving girls.

She made her way to the tower of the hand as servants scurried about like mice, a pair of huntsmen hoisting a large stag on a pole, bound for the kitchens.

Lord Tully was still at the the breakfast in the Queens Ballroom so there were no guards at the towers door, though she knew there would be two guards in Tully cloaks up the stairs at the Hands chambers, so instead she made her way to the Small Hall, a hall with two large trestle tables that could seat 100.

Luckily for her, the two great wooden doors were open and she made her way to the small halls hearth and gently slide the back panel to the side, concealing a set of runged handholds that led both up and down, she made her way through the soot and positioned herself on the rungs, while she pulled the false panel back into place with one hand.

She had come upon the false exit some years ago, when she had skipped her lessons with the Maester to explore, hearing rumors from one of her fathers builders that the keep was ringed with secret tunnels and passageways, of which she had uncovered several.

She knew that if she climbed the ladder up she would come to the hearth in the hand's personal chambers, the whole purpose of this exit was to allow the hand to escape from his chambers or the small hall out of the castle.

Instead of up however, she headed down, climbing down the rungs until her hands and arms burned, but finally, she reached the bottom.

Once at the bottom she walked forward through the brick tunnel in darkness until she at last came to a place that had a bit of light. An Iron Brazier in the shape of a dragon's head was lit, casting a dim orange glow about her surroundings, illuminating a dragon mosaic of blue and red tile beneath her, the sigil of the Targaryen dynasty.

Someone has been here, and recently She thought to herself looking at the lit brazier, grabbing the unlit torch from the pack on her back and lighting it quickly.

The small circular chamber had six separate doors leading in six directions, though the two leftmost were unlocked and open, those she had explored.

She made her way through the leftmost door in silence for quite a while, her mind focused on her Valyrian. Laena was not an attentive learner and rarely invested any effort in her studies, but in the past week she had made an effort to study the Valyrian texts on her own time, and proved to be a quick study when she put her mind to it, the young princess had a remarkable memory.

Finally the passageway ended and she found herself in a well lit yet unassuming small storage room made of red brick, containing barrels and flour sacks, covered in cobwebs, there, hidden behind a barrel was a cleverly constructed iron grate that could only be pushed open from the inside.

Pushing it aside, she knelt through it and found herself outside of the red brick walls of the Red Keep, the bustling city of Kings Landing below her.

She made her way down the hill, passing by a few gold cloaks who paid her little mind, and soon found herself at the base of the hill and in the city proper.

She knew her destination by sight well enough, but nonetheless consulted the map she had taken with her, she would have to walk the street bordering Flea Bottom before turning right onto the street of Sisters, continuing on towards the Hill of Rhaenys, named after her fathers aunt.

It was then that the princess was faced with her first decision. Laena had never been alone in the streets of King's Landing before, but she knew Flea Bottoms reputation well enough to know that it was the roughest and poorest part of the city, where her uncle Matarys had been mugged and Ser Lucas Blackwood had been murdered.

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It would be safer to keep to the main street and turn onto the street of sisters, but that would add several miles to her journey, it would be much faster to cut through the alleyways of Flea Bottom onto the street of sisters, if much more dangerous, but Laena knew the longer her absence the more frantic her family would grow, and besides, Laena did not wish for an hours long trek through the city, she would cut through Flea Bottom.

Laena was no fool however, she knew the risk she was taking and with a curse she realized her riding boots were much too fine and would stand out like a sore thumb in Flea Bottom, so she ran them through the mud until they looked truly filthy before making her way through Flea Bottom.

In truth it was not as bad as she expected. Her father regularly provided her uncle with wagons of food and timber to distribute amongst the city's poor and the district had improved in recent years, yet still the poverty of the area was clear.

Naked children ran through the mud puddles while whores called down from rickety balconies, advertising their services. On the side of alleyways she saw dirty and bedraggled peasants in a line where two huge cauldrons of soup with dubious origins were being cooked.

‘’Bowl o’ Brown…just 2 coppers’’ One of the ‘’cooks’’ shouted at her and she quickened her pace, in truth she was feeling a bit peckish but she was not so desperate as to eat that.

Passing through a large open air market she made her way towards the street of sisters, wrinkling her nose at the smell of the peasantry.

At one point she felt a pair of eyes on her, and noticed an old man with a bum eye following her, a strange smile on his face, but she quickly lost him before finally making it out of Flea Bottom to the Street of Sisters, though the rest of her trek through the district she kept one hand on her knife.

Her legs were beginning to tire by then, she could not remember the last time she had walked this long but she forced herself to keep moving.

With luck I will be returning a different way She thought to herself.

The street of sisters was more well to do, and she passed by several stout taverns and brothels, loud with the sound of their patrons, though her journey was not entirely uneventful as she barely got out of the way of a man thundering down the street on a horse, a squadron of gold cloaks chasing after him.

The crowd thinned as she made her way to the base of the Hill of Rhaenys.

I must be careful She thought to herself, she could no longer hope to blend in with the crowd here and the guards would no doubt be suspicious of her presence if they spotted the hooded stranger.

She walked up the long winding path to the top of the Hill of Rhaenys, keeping to the side of the cliff, staying in the shadows as a squadron of gold cloaks made their way down.

Continuing on she reached the top of the hill, the massive cavernous Dragonpit coming into view.

She saw many of her fathers Dragonkeepers, armored in their black plate patrolling outside, especially at the huge exit, but despite not having been to the pit before, she knew there were multiple smaller entrances around the side so that the dragonkeepers might enter and surround the dragon in the central pit.

She waited upon the side of the cliff road for two dragon keepers to complete their sweep and walk in the opposite direction before darting forward quickly, making it to the side of the Dragonpit before walking through one of the small tunnels that led to the central pit.

Luck was on her side as she had expected. The Dragonpit only housed two dragons, her uncle's white and gold Aelesar who was just a dozen feet in length and the dragon Vhagar who had belonged to Laenas grandmother Visenya. Narrah and Moondancer were not confined to the Dragonpit and roamed the crownlands and islands of the Blackwater.

It was the large dragon Vhagar that was interred in the large central cavernous chamber, several sheep bones piled around the sleeping bronze and green dragon. Vhagar was sixty feet in length with huge wings, the largest dragon in Westeros ever since Meraxes had flown across the narrow sea.

Laena, crouched in one of the side tunnels steeled herself, she could show absolutely no hesitation when the time came.

Turning onto a flight of stairs on the side tunnel she made her way up onto the walkways that ran above the large central pit that the dragon keepers used to observe the dragons from above as well as trap and enchain new dragons with the huge heavy chains that dropped below, they were empty at this time however.

Most of the dragon keepers were posted outside the Dragonpit to guard it, and only a few patrolled inside, walking a route from near the central pit to immediately outside, Laena waited until they stepped outside the dragon pits entrance before she made her way to a huge lever in the center of the walkway and pulled it with all her might.

The lever moved surprisingly easy and triggered a mechanism which caused huge heavy iron gates to fall with a deafening crash at the end of every one of the major exits of the Dragonpit, the main purpose of such a lever was to lock down the dragonpit from the inside, against any sort of assault as well as stop a rogue dragon from leaving through the main entrance, but Laena had used it to essentially lock the Dragonkeepers out of the pit.

She heard shouts of alarm from outside and hurried downwards, she had locked them out for now but there were other secret entrances known only to the keepers she assumed, she did not have long.

Making her way to the central sandy pit, she slowed her pace and lowered her hood.

Vhagar had not woken, despite all the commotion and was in a deep sleep, its breaths shaking the sands around it with a deep rumbling.

Laena slowly made her way towards the sleeping dragon, who still remained unaware of her presence.

I am the blood of the Dragon She reminded herself, extending a hand towards the dragon's huge snout, her hands so close she could feel the heat emanating from them.

‘’PRINCESS STOP.’’ She heard a voice scream from behind her.

Turning behind her she saw one of the dragonkeepers sprinting from one of the side chambers, with a curse on her mind she realized that she had not accounted for any dragonkeepers that might have been tending to Aelesar in the dragon's tunnel.

Before she could say anything there was a deafening roar behind her, startling her so much that she fell on her back.

Turning frantically she saw that the big green dragon had awoken from its slumber, and it was clearly not pleased by these uninvited guests, lazily arising, sand falling from its green and bronze scales.

To his credit the Dragon Keeper was no coward and attempted to put himself in between the beast and the princess, sprinting towards the center of the pit, but Vhagar was in no mood and ponderously turned its head, emitting a burst of green orange flame that bathed the man in dragonfire, cooking him in his own armor, the screams echoing through the cavernous dome.

The dragon then turned back to Laena, who had managed to get to her knees, its huge emerald eyes glaring at her, a deep rumbling at the back of its throat as it opened its mouth, showing jaws armed with teeth as big as a man's forearm, its face so close she could see light emitting from the back of its throat.

‘’IKSAN SE ĀNOGAR HEN ZALDRĪZES!’’ She screamed  I am the blood of the dragon

The fire at the back of Vhagars throat brightened like molten fire, burning so bright that Laena was almost blinded.

‘’SE ĀNOGAR HEN UĒPA VALYRIA. NYKE CLAIM AO HAE ÑUHON!!’’ She continued, bellowing as loud as she could. The blood of Old Valyria….. I claim you

The fire at the back of the beast's throat traveled upwards, its mouth opening wide just inches from Laenas face, the princess staring defiantly ahead.

If I look back I am lost

‘’SE BIRTHRIGHT HEN ZALDRĪZES LORDS. NYKE CLAIM AO!!’’ She screamed as she looked her death in the eye, the air in front of her burning like a furnace. The birth right of the Dragon Lords….I claim you.

The air grew so hot that Laena could barely finish her chant, the air being sucked out of her throat, heat entering her body, she collapsed to the ground, waiting for her death.

It did not come. Vhagar looked to the sky and gave a roar so deafening that the Princess would lose hearing in one ear for an entire month, diverting the flame into the air.

She is mine Laena thought to herself, stumbling to her feet and without hesitation clambering up onto the beast's back and screaming for it to fly up.

Vhagar obeyed, flying towards the domed roof of the Dragonpit, shattering the stone and flying into the night sky, as blocks of stone fell around her, she flew towards the stars.

Back at the Red Keep where the feast had been delayed and the King had ordered a frantic search for his missing daughter, the court stood in the courtyard watching in amazement as the dragon Vhagar and its rider flew around the towers of the Red Keep, flying among the stars.

 

20th of 3rd Moon, 8039

Tourney Grounds of Kings Landing

The tourney grounds were as packed as Vaemond had ever seen them, matching the crowd that had come all those years ago for his fathers tourney to celebrate the 10th year of his reign, the tourney were his uncle Orys had lost his eye and Nestor Royce had won the champions honors.

It seemed like it was almost yesterday to him, he could still see his sister Nyel carrying around that red dragons egg of hers that would hatch Narrah, his brother Matarys crying when his uncle had fallen from his horse, he could remember Corlys Velaryons white cloak flapping in the wind and the bronze armor that Nestor Royce had been wearing.

Most of all he could remember his father and mother, the royal pavilion not far from where Vaemond and his family were seated now. His parents were gone now, and his siblings remained, but this time it was Vaemond watching the tourney with four children of his own, to celebrate the wedding of his daughter,

The day's events also reminded him of another less pleasant memory, the Tourney at Highgarden shortly before his eldest son's death of the pox, Aelyx’s mouth smeared with a pastry, reaching for a butterfly.

Vaemond expelled the memory, today was supposed to be a day of celebration, to celebrate his daughter's marriage to Matarys’s boy Jaekar, who had served as his squire since boyhood.

He had spared no expense on the tourney or the wedding, inviting all the lords of the realm to the tourney for almost two weeks of jousts, archery tournaments, a melee and a tournament of singers, but today was the final day…the most important day.

There had been times during the tourney he had found himself wishing he had chosen to participate, but he had chosen to remain and watch with his family and children, such times were precious and were not easily forgotten.

If I were 10 years younger Vaemond thought to himself. In truth his age had started to catch up to him, and he felt aches and pains from old wounds that had not troubled him in his youth. His downward spiral had reached its peak the prior year when he had watched his normally strong and sturdy frame run to fat.

It had been Nyel that had told him, with all her usual politeness, that he would not live to see his children reach adulthood or meet his grandchildren if he continued on this path and the King had loved her for it, and had made many changes, returning to the training yard from time to time and implementing a regular exercise routine, though he would likely never be as strong as he was in his youth.

He gave a look to the two newly weds, Laena and Jaekar, they looked happy enough, even though the two had never been fast companions, they tolerated each other in a way, and often flew their dragons together, Laena on Vhagar and Jaekar on Oathwing, though his dragon could not fly for long due to its small size.

He can temper her worst impulses Vaemond thought to himself. He had been pleased with the match and all to willing to agree to his brother's suggestion, who deserved a reward after years of loyal service as commander of the city watch, furthermore would keep the bloodline pure while infusing it with the blood of house Royce, a noble house of First Men origin, before the agreement he had toyed with the idea of betrothing Jaekar with his second daughter Alyssane, but the girl had come to him and made it clear she would not be marrying her cousin as such a thing was an abomination.

His attention returned to the festivities in front of him, as the tournament of singers was winding down. The jousts had finished yesterday, with a northman by the name of Edwyle Karstark winning the honors of the greatest tourney in the realm in recent memory, despite not being a knight he rode well, and made for an interesting sight walking amongst the tourney grounds with his gray wolf never far from his side.

In addition to the champion's purse, Vaemond promised to build the man a stout longhall on the cliffs of the Weeping Bay, raising him to the title of Lord.

As the end of the tourney slowly inched closer, Vaemond found himself enjoying each day less and less as the anticipation for the final day loomed, and this day was no different, he found himself scarcely listening to the singers, delegating his wife Nyel to choose the winner, though he decreed all participants would receive a fat purse of silver.

As the singers bowed and departed, a rumble of excitement ran through the crowd, they had been told little except that the King would make an announcement at the tourney's end to the nobles of the realm, of which hundreds were in attendance, represented from every corner of the realm.

Any hesitation Vaemond might have felt quickly abated as his mind remembered that night at the red keep, how Laena had appeared from the night riding the dragon Vhagar, looking every bit a dragonlord…and every bit a Queen….that was when his decision had been made, he had had a worthy heir this entire time.

He rose to his feet, his hand clenched on Blackfyre.

‘’My lords…..my Ladies…..I thank you for coming…..the festivities have all been made greater by your attendance.’’ Vaemond began and a murmur of approval rang through the hall.

‘’The jousts are done however, the melee pits are empty and the last of the arrows have been shot….and my daughter and nephew are wed….but one thing yet remains.’’ Vaemond said, surveying the crowd.

‘’I mean to name my heir.’’ He said, causing a roar of excitement to run through the crowd, Vaemond waited patiently for it to abate, readying his words.

‘’I hereby state my intention to name my eldest daughter, Laena of the House Targaryen, heir to the Iron Throne and Princess of Dragonstone.’’ He said, causing an uproar among his vassals.

‘’This is an absurdity….with all due respect your Grace….she is a woman!’’ The normally quiet Theo Tyrell balked from his seat.

His daughter stood ‘’I am well aware of my position Lord Tyrell….though perhaps you ought to be more of your own….you are a vassal, subservient to the throne…my father is not asking you but giving his royal decree’’

Theo Tyrells face grew red as he choked for an answer before retreating back to his chair as he noticed the crowds gaze upon him.

A half dozen shouts and questions came from the crowd.

‘’What of the Prince?’’ one asked.

Vaemond raised his hands ‘’I do so disinherit my son Vaekar from the inheritance….but he will not be forgotten upon my passing, the Princess Laena shall hold Dragonstone as her seat until she comes of age…but upon her ascension to the throne Vaekar will be named the Prince of Dragonstone.’’

Little Vaekar looked very uncomfortable, as Nyel ran a hand gently through his shoulder length silver hair, Vaemond felt a stab of pity looking at his youngest son.

He is a boy of six….if something were to happen to me…..Laena is ready now The King thought to himself, this decision was necessary, he could not entrust the future of his family to a six year old boy.

He will have a good life….my son will lack for nothing Vaemond promised himself, he would raise the boy to be a loyal and dependable Lord under his sister, and being the Prince of Dragonstone was no insignificant title.

The lords of the seven Kingdoms were not pleased in the slightest by the King's decision to name a woman as their future overlord and the precedent it could cause, though Vaemond received their oaths of fealty, some more enthusiastically than others.

The Dornish and the North, which were also ruled by women were steadfast supporters of the King's decision, while Ronnel Arryn also pledged his support due to his friendship with the King, though the other great lords were less enthusiastic.

As Vaemond watched his daughter begin the dance under the fading light of the sun, Nyel came to him and wordlessly placed a hand on his back.

‘’She is the right one to lead our family…..I know she is.’’ He said before extending his hand to Nyel and joining the dance.

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