Chapter Text
It was tradition for family to gather at the end of winter. Nominally, it was to commemorate the end of the Long Night centuries earlier, when Queen Daenerys I Targaryen and her nephews had defeated an army of the dead and re-established Targaryen rule in Westeros after the War of Five Kings. In reality, it was an excuse for family to gather and snipe at each other over food of questionable edibility prepared by an overworked and exhausted host.
This year, that host was Rhaenys.
For this reason, and this reason alone, Daemon had agreed to return from Essos with Laena and their daughters. His cousin was the only one in the family who could put out a truly delicious spread on a day when all the staff were dismissed.
The queen-that-never-was happened to be the only royal who could work a hob.
Rhaenys was also his mother-in-law and Daemon hadn't needed to watch her descend on his school riding Meleys as a child before chewing out his headmaster to develop a healthy fear of her temper. It certainly hadn't hurt though...
Her mother was a Baratheon for Sevens' sake! That they avoided a fourth Targaryen civil war when the Council of Lords had chosen Viserys as king instead was nothing short of a miracle.
Point being, Daemon knew Rhaenys was not above flying across the Narrow Sea to burn him alive if he kept her daughter and granddaughters from her on her favorite holiday. Contrary to what tabloid headlines and his brother's cunt of a father-in-law might tell people: Daemon was not an idiot.
"Ah, still here, Otto? I guess no one's burned Oldtown to the ground yet, shame." Daemon greeted his brother's Hand with a smirk as he settled on to a couch beside his wife. Otto Hightower paused, wine halfway to his lips. To his credit, the man managed not to sneer, even when Daemon added, "Though, I suppose that would be your brother's problem and not yours.”
Daemon will admit to being a bit of an asshole. He might even gloat about the fact, on occasion.
"I'd ask after Dragonstone, but Rhaenyra hasn't arrived yet," Otto shot back, smug grin spreading across his cheeks when Daemon narrowed his eyes.
Laena sighed, squeezing his thigh, "I'll remind you both that you're at High Tide." Daemon huffed and reached for his own wine. He and Otto maintained eye contact as they drank regardless.
The Hall of Nine descended into silence. Only the soft snores of the king himself floating through the room. Laena rolled her eyes at the both of them and pulled out her phone. Her brother would find the continued feud between Daemon and Otto more amusing than she did. Daemon could almost hear Laenor’s jokes already.
"Viserys!" a shriek echoed off the tall walls around them when Alicent came rushing in, eyes wide and scent flaring. Wines were forgotten and both men stood.
A woman far too young for his brother, the only lines on Alicent Hightower's face were those of worry, each one twisting her expression more and more as she tugged on her husband's arm. Viserys was greying before them, lips pressed firmly tight when he startled awake in the armchair between Daemon and Otto.
"He took off again," Alicent was fretting properly, hands twisting, clawing at his arm as she spoke, "I can't find him anywhere and Sunfyre is gone." Her scent was ashen, sharp and bitter as her worry permeated the air. Daemon swallowed and tried not to breathe through his nose.
Beside him, Laena tensed. She took a step closer to Alicent, voice going low. A syrupy balm that Daemon was tempted to drown himself in and that had Alicent’s head turning to look at her with wide eyes even before Laena asked, "What's happened?"
"It's just Aegon," Viserys sighed, eyes squeezing shut. He pinched the bridge of his nose, "Gone off with Sunfyre again. It's nothing to worry about." He waved a hand, dismissing Alicent, practically pushing her away.
"He's only 13 Viserys!" Alicent stumbled a few steps, head shaking as she stomped her foot, "The weather around Driftmark is different than King’s Landing. Sunfyre's still young, what if he gets caught in the wind somehow? Or-"
"I'll go get him," Laena stepped forward, taking hold of Alicent's hands to stop her frantic gestures. Brows furrowed before Laena looked at Viserys sharply. He startled back, face flushing. Daemon smirked.
Laena was not an alpha it was smart to question. The king nodded his approval and Laena squeezed Alicent's shoulder, smiling at her.
"Vhagar can convince even the most stubborn of dragons," Laena told her firmly. Alicent's scent lowered, softening as she nodded sharply. There were tears gathering in her eyes, stuck to her lashes. She took a slow breath.
"Thank you," Alicent mumbled as Laena departed. She was still shaking. An ashen musk lingered in the air as she shrunk inward.
Viserys settled back in his chair with a laugh, "You worry too much, my dear."
Shoulders tense, Alicent sat on the couch, head bowed. She nodded again, lips pursed, "Yes, of course." Her hands were clasped tightly in her lap, fingers twisting about as she picked at her nails. Her chuckle was hollow as she looked back up at the room, "I'm sorry for causing a scene with my... overreaction."
"Hardly an overreaction," Daemon insisted, nostrils flaring when Viserys scoffed.
"He does this quite often," Viserys told them, eyes rolling. Otto hummed, nodding along as he took his seat beside Alicent. He squeezed her shoulder and she flashed him a quick, and rather lackluster, smile.
Daemon furrowed his brow. His gaze shifted from Viserys to Otto as the two men continued to speak. Viserys’ scent remained light and barely noticeable, as if their words alone were all the comfort Alicent needed.
"It is a mother's prerogative to worry over her children," Otto kissed her forehead, laughing lightly, "And an omega's. Two strikes against your peace of mind I'm afraid dear."
Viserys chortled, head falling back against the high back of his armchair, "Aegon himself ought to count as a third strike." He smiled at Daemon, ignorant to the way his younger brother was clenching his jaw. "Reminds me a bit of you when you were his age actually. I remember Father grumbling every time I called from school about you running off to the Dragon Pit."
"Guess the boy won't be growing out of it then..." Otto huffed, reaching for his wine again. Beside him, Alicent's eyes went wide. Her scent flared briefly.
"Is that meant to be a dig at me, Otto?" Daemon drawled, eyebrow arching as he finally sunk back into the couch opposite him.
Alicent straightened, hands clutching at the skirt of her dress as she laughed him off, "Certainly not." Her smile was forced, "Just... further evidence that Aegon will follow in your family's legacy. A proud Targaryen alpha."
"I wasn't aware Aegon had presented yet," Daemon leaned back in his seat, throat bobbing. Alicent shook her head. Her eyes dropped to the floor.
"No. But, you presented around this age didn't you?" Alicent asked. Daemon's eyes flickered down to her hands briefly. Her thumb was rubbing at the top of her nails. She glanced up at the king, "Viserys said it’s rare for anyone to claim a dragon before their presentation."
At that Daemon cackled, "Yes, I claimed Caraxes shortly after I presented at 13, but I do believe Aegon himself is evidence against those being connected events."
That Viserys might have given that impression was worrying though. Especially considering his three other children hadn’t claimed dragons yet.
"Yes..." Viserys furrowed his brow, "He claimed Sunfyre very young. Very odd. Usually only children who have an egg will have a dragon grow with them."
Eyes flashing, Daemon took a breath. It wouldn’t do to correct the king, to cause a fight. He’d only meant to distract Alicent.
"Obviously," Daemon drawled, chin rising, "Aegon defies stereotypes." He narrowed his eyes on Alicent, "We ought not make assumptions about his designation based on family stories."
She flushed, shoulders rolling back, "He's the first born of an alpha-omega pair. Statistically-"
"Oh, please," Daemon snorted, head shaking. His gut twisted as he held in a sneer. That haughty voice had him grinding his teeth.
"Alpha-omega pairs are more likely to produce alphas," Alicent insistent, voice sharp. Finally, the ash in her scent lifted. Daemon regretted his kindness greatly.
Daemon's nose wrinkled, "That's guesswork. At best. The data is highly irregular. Entirely self-reported." He waved his hand downward and Alicent huffed.
Nostrils flaring, Alicent crossed her arms, "Aegon is going to be an alpha. Targaryens are always alphas."
"Aemma was an omega," Daemon pointed out. She swallowed thickly.
"Aemma was also an Arryn," Viserys cleared his throat. Daemon and Alicent both glared at him. His eyes fluttered.
Reaching for his goblet of wine, Daemon did sneer this time, "And Aegon is also a Hightower. The point remains, Targaryens are not *always* anything."
Otto straightened, jaw clenching. The beta kept quiet. His daughter did not.
"Rhaenyra is an alpha, which just proves my point about alpha-omega pairings."
"Rhaenys is an alpha, both her parents were alphas," Daemon countered. Alicent's lips pursed. He grinned, "Perhaps we need a bigger sample size to compare though."
Viserys groaned, pinching the bridge of the nose, "Daemon..."
"What?" Daemon held a hand to his chest, eyes fluttering, "I haven't even suggested anything yet."
A pointed look was leveled at him. Daemon grinned at his brother. He'd been immune to that expression long before Viserys had even been crowned king.
"Rhaenyra does have the same number of sons as the two of you though," Daemon hummed, gaze shifting to Alicent out of the corner of his eyes. She stiffened. "Same biological sex, roughly similar ages... couldn't ask for a better data set."
"You are not betting on the children's designations," Viserys gestured towards him, his whole hand pointed at him along with his narrowed eyes. He even leaned forward in his seat.
Alicent fidgeted, coughing, "We obviously wouldn't tell them, Viserys." His brother groaned, falling backwards into the cushion of his seat. Daemon turned fully back to Alicent. She shrugged, "It's natural to make guesses anyway. What's the harm of adding a little incentive?"
"Exactly," Daemon nodded sharply, smirking. Alicent frowned at him. The sweetness of her natural scent mellowed as they stared off.
"What terms, exactly, are you proposing?" Alicent narrowed her eyes.
Daemon's gaze lowered briefly to her lap. Her hands were clasped together still, but she'd stopped picking at her nails.
"Something simple. The grouping with the most alphas wins?" Alicent nodded sharply. "And the winner gets a..." Daemon trailed off, biting at his bottom lip.
"A favor," Alicent suggested, eyebrow arching, "The other cannot deny it." Daemon hummed, nodding slowly. Neither of them cared that Otto and Viserys were exchanging a look.
They shook on it less than a minute before Vhagar's roar had the walls of High Tide trembling. Alicent was running before the walls had stilled.