Chapter Text
Daemon landed right next to Caraxes and couldn't help but be pleased with himself.
Of course, Viserys would cave first.
His brother, even if he was a spineless gullible fucker who only ever fell for the Hightower’s count whisper, loved his brother to bits. Everyone with a brain knew that others would have been thrown to the black cell and executed ten times over without a trial if they had committed half the things Daemon had done. Who could blame him? His brother was the king.
So, Prince Daemon Targaryen, first of his name, who was exiled for years (though nobody cheated his exile seriously), came back to the Red Keep with a laundry list of war crimes (entirely Corlys's fault in his opinion), a wife “two daughters and a pair of huge ass dragon and stalked into the castle as he had never left.
Try to look less smug, husband,” Laena scoffed as she pushed Rhaena in his arm, talking in the sullen voice she only ever used when the twins burped on her, “and take your daughter. I won’t have her throwing up on my new dress before we greet the King”
As if Viserys would care for any of that – Daemon thought. Viserys had seen worse, especially during the first few years after their father’s death. Daemon was once being presented in front of his brother, drunk out of his mind while covered from head to toe with cow dunk. Viserys surely wouldn’t mind them smelling a bit like burp.
Rhaena, his lovely rascal, his little babe, had learned nothing from her mother’s grimace (she was two), babbled happily as she took a fist full of her father's fleshly-washed hair and put it into her mouth. It's her favorite part-time – chewing her father's long smooth hair as if a dog its favorite bone. Daemon was no clairvoyant, but he could just see his hair, an hour from now on, damped with Rhaena’s saliva. He loved his daughters and wife dearly nothing could have gotten him used to a full head of hair reeked of baby saliva.
“Daemon! You are here,” the king chanted. Daemon turned around and was met with his sentimental fool of a brother, smiling brightly as he slowly walked to them, his cane making uncomfortable creaked noises. Viserys looked healthy, yet older than any man his age should. Daemon marched towards his brother and unabashedly brought him into a crushing hug, “Brother”
Viserys, to his surprise, hugged him back. “Brother, fatherhood suits you. You look radiant.”
Daemon chuckled as he pulled away. “And you look… old.”
“Always such a delight.” Viserys ruffled his hair like he once had back then when everything was simpler – there was no crown, no throne, no council between them yet, only a handful of books and toys shared between the two brothers.
“And who is this little girl?” Viserys asked, and Rhaena, squeaked with delight at the mention of her name and held out her arms at his brother. The king didn't mind his brother’s scowl, immediately scooped the little lady in his hand,
“Hello, little one, what's your name?”
“Rha-Rhae-” Rhaena continued to babble, completely abandoning the task of giving the king of the Seven Kingdoms her full name. Then, she abruptly stopped, eyes wide, and her hand grabbed the gold necklace Viserys was wearing, inspecting it closely.
“Rhaena–” Laena called her daughter warily.
“Let her. It’s been a while since any child took interest in my trinkets.” Viserys smiled down at Rhaena sweetly, indulging her little act, before turning his head to Laena and greeting her warmly. “And lady Laena”
“Your grace,” his wife curtsied gracefully with Baela attached to her hips. His eldest daughter had her thumb in her mouth, watching Viserys intensely without blinking.
“Welcome to the Red Keep, lady Laena. I hope your flight wasn't too exhausting?”
“Of course not, your grace. May I present to you our twins? This one here is Baela, and the one in my husband's arms is Rhaena.”
Viserys nodded. “Such beautiful names are for the ladies of Driftmark. You-”
A childish voice suddenly interrupted, “Get away from me, you freak!”
“My prince! Please! Don't run!”
“Prince Lucerys!”
“Someone take the knife away from him!”
“I'm trying!”
“Luke! Please! Stop!”
The chaos unraveled right in front of them: A herd of servants and knights ran fervently into the hallway; in front of them, a big head of brown curls was holding a butter knife as he chased after an older child (blond hair, cowardly looking – definitely a Lannister).
The first thing Daemon noticed was how strikingly similar the babe looked to his cousin Aemma: same eyes, nose, plumb cheeks and lively eyes, same wild brown curls – looking every bit like an Arryn and nothing Targaryen. That must have been Rhaenyra’s boy, Daemon thought swiftly, for Alicent Hightower could never give birth to an Aemma second coming (or at least he hoped so)
The second thing was how the small babe dashed around the hallway like an experienced escapee – sometimes, the knights would almost be able to grab him by his collar, and the boy would skillfully duck his head or wriggle between their legs and get away in the nick of time. His hand clenched tightly around the butter knife while waving it around threateningly.
The Lannister boy must have seen the King from where he was because he immediately turned to the left, skipped over the stone banisters, and hurried away, which earned a displeased yelp from the babe.
Daemon immediately got on his legs and scooped the babe with a deeply discontent grimace that looked ridiculous on his tiny little face – his face only looked more comical when Daemon took away the knife in his hand.
“Lucerys?” Viserys walked over and checked worryingly. “What are you doing here?”
“Your grace!”
“Your grace!”
The knights and servants immediately stopped as they saw the king and the Rogue prince standing together with the little prince in his arms. Another child (Fourteen flames, why are there so many of them) halted his steps and looked up fearfully, “Father”
“Aemond? What's happening here?” Viserys's voice hardened, and he sounded more kingly than when he beat Daemon up for bringing his daughter to Flea Bottom.
“I- i-” the boy, Aemond, stuttered. Lucerys, who had failed many attempts of wiggling out of Daemon's arms, immediately made his opinion known.
“ba ba ba ba!”
Now, the rogue prince was no expert in baby talk. Still, Lucerys made it clear about his indignation towards the Lannister boy with his tiny scowl and fattened rosy cheeks while accusingly pointing where the older boy had escaped.
“Yes, Lucerys?” Viserys indulged the boy’s little tantrum. His voice grew way softer than with his own children.
Weird.
Still, all eyes were on Lucerys as the boy nodded, shiny eyes as he turned his face towards the king and continued to expressively babble, “pa! Ba ba ba!”
“My king,” a guard stepped forward. “Lord Lannister's son had said something unsavory about Prince Aemond. Prince Lucerys must have taken offense to his insult-”
Daemon looked down at the babe in his hand in disbelief. “he is like what? A year old?”
Bep.
Lucerys slapped Daemon square in the face, looking like the picture perfect of the late Queen Alyssane, when Daemon accidentally bit off a piece of her new dress, “Ba ba ba ba ba ba”.
“Don't talk about my age, old man!” The little rascal would have said it if he knew how to speak. Alas, he didn't, and mayhaps it was all for the best – one couldn't be seen smothering their niece’s son, least of all the king’s grandchild.
Behind Daemon, Laena was choking on her laugh. Her shoulder shook as she tried to hold in her laughter. Though, it didn't take her long to give up and chortled out loud.
“And what did he say to you, Aemond?” Viserys asked. A humorous glint shone through his eyes as he watched Lucerys bullying his own brother.
Aemond could barely hold his words. It was unfortunate enough that he had encountered Tyson Lannister. Now, he had to repeat their entire encounter before his father and uncle. For a second, Aemond considered digging a hole, jumping in there, and hiding for the rest of his life, “h-he called me ugly…”
Lucerys huffed loudly, his arms folding in front of his chest. Viserys could only laugh at the sight. “We know you are displeased with it, my little dragon, but you can't chase people with a knife just because they say bad things!”
“Can too,” Daemon slipped out, earning him an unimpressed glance from Viserys and Laena. Lucerys, however, turned to him and nodded so hard his entire body shook in unison.
Daemon grinned mischievously and hugged the child closer to his chest, “See? Lucerys totally agrees”
“Well, if the approval from one-year-old matters to you that much, husband,” Laena chirped in, and Lucerys immediately looked offended at the insinuation that his opinion meant fuck all to everyone.
Daemon held his new favorite grand nephew in his arms protectively. “Don’t listen to her, Lucerys. Aunt Laena is being mean.” the child nodded.
Ridiculous, both of them – Viserys thought as he shook his head defeatedly and signaled for the servants and knights to leave them.
“I shall have a word with Lord Lannister and his son, my child,” he turned to Aemond. “No one shall insult the prince of the Realm and get away with it.”
“Hmmm!” Lucerys hummed sweetly, showing off his victory as he nodded in approval.
Daemon recognized that look – the same look was on Rhaenyra’s face when she was but a babe, demanding her mother to “punish” Daemon for being mean to her.
“Oh, sweet child! We would have so much fun!” Daemon grinned as he marched away with the boy in his arms, chanting incoherently while waving at his grandsire.
“Daemon! You can't leave your daughters here!” Laena chastised, though Daemon had already disappeared behind the wall with Lucerys by then.