22 - the prince of dragonstone

“He’s truly wonderful, Rhaenyra,” the king says softly as he stares at Aegon with eyes full of awe and love. Aegon sits on a blanket spread on the grass in the garden, quietly playing with his wooden blocks and toy dragons. “I know I said this already, but I feel like even if I told it a hundred times, it would not be enough.” The princess smiles. She does not intend to be humble, for that is not her style. Besides, Aegon deserves all the praise. He’s sweet, doesn’t throw tantrums, and he is the most beautiful child she has seen. “I understand,” she sighs. “Sometimes, I, too, cannot believe he’s real, and I’ve given birth to him.”

Criston II

The sun flickers through the gaps between the leaves, casting gold flecks on the grass and the gravel. The sight of shimmering shapes on the ground delights Princess Helaena. She gasps with joy and, beaming, runs to admire the light from up close. Prince Aegon is less interested in the tricks of light. Instead, he and a few lordlings of his age pursue the shrubs for sticks that could imitate a sword. “Wonderful children, aren’t they?” One of the septas responsible for the upbringing of the little Prince and Princess hums, glancing at Criston briefly before her gaze returns to the royal children. Criston nods in agreement, but he cannot muster a smile. He’s the knight of the Kingsguard, one of the best warriors in the realm, and yet he’s assigned to accompany children on their afternoon stroll through the garden. He knows it’s an important job. Guarding the royal family is his duty, and a great honour, but it often feels unmanly to follow children around the Keep.

Chapter 34

At the opposite end of the garden, the servants are preparing the area for the formal breakfast. Rhaenyra pauses on the path and stares at the silk canopy that is being erected over the trestle tables and the decorations adorning the space. She had no say in what her wedding would look like – not about the breakfast, where the guests would present their gifts, not in the flowers put in the vases or the colour of silk draped over chairs and tables, or even what food would be served. And while the wedding is only in a few days, she is seeing the results of the servants’ work for the first time. “Do you like it?” She looks at Rhaenys and offers the older princess a small smile. “I had a wedding already. It was wonderful. This is a farce,” she says with a shrug.

Chapter 32

A glimpse of the night sky peeks from the small gap in the wall. Although the sight of stars winking at him from the black backdrop does nothing to lift Daemon’s spirit, he steps closer to the narrow hole in the stone to breathe in the fresh evening air. When the guards dragged him out of Maegor’s Holdfast, Daemon expected to be thrown into the black cells, but instead, he was taken to one of the tiny rooms on the upper level designed to hold lordlings and knights who might be ransomed. It’s better than the dungeon deep under the ground, steeped in the darkness that has led many to madness, but Daemon cannot find it in himself to be grateful for the little comfort the guards allowed him. He shouldn’t be here, anyway, for his place is by Rhaenyra’s side.

21 - the most precious prince

“One day, you will be training here, my son,” Daemon declares in a soft voice as he stops on the balcony overlooking the training yard. At this hour, the place is mostly deserted, and only a few squires linger about, cleaning up armour and blunt blades after the morning sparring session. “I will train you myself just like my father trained me,” he promises, smiling slightly at the memory of his childhood days.

Alicent X

“I cannot believe I wasn’t informed,” Alicent huffs as she climbs down the serpentine as hastily as she dares in her condition. Gwayne walks by her side, murmuring warnings and trying to slow her down. “Be careful, sister. Remember that you carry the King’s son,” he chastises when Alicent jumps from the last step and continues to stride determinedly through the courtyard. “I don’t think it’s a good idea.” Alicent rolls her eyes. It’s not the first time Gwayne voices his doubt. It seems that Alicent’s assurances matter little and less to her brother, for he continues to try to sway her mind. He seems incapable of accepting that Alicent feels best when she fights injustice; that’s when her strength returns, and she feels invigorated rather than heavy and tired. The little Prince in my belly will grow into a wise and just man.

There is one obvious problem with that idea, and it's Daemon Blackfyre. After the Blackfyre Rebellion, no Targ will ever be named Daemon.

But then I thought, what about a fusion of all asoiaf "eras"? I could have Maekar, Rhaegar, Daemon and Aemon the Dragonknight in one story 🤯 The Stark kids, Alicent and Cersei, too, if I wanted. And the reader would have no idea what was going to happen since it wouldn't be based on the canon events 🤯