Teaser of A Servant of the Dragons Chapter 2 - One Shot

Teaser of A Servant of the Dragons Chapter 2 - Jon Snow/Rhaenyra Targaryen/Alicent Hightower/Laena Velayron.

The Full Version of All One Shots written so far are available for Sergeant Tier or Higher.

One Week Later

Viserys could feel the sunlight on his face as he talked with Lord Strong about the city after a whole day of talking to people. Viserys was hoping for a moment of peace. He wondered briefly where Alicent had gone. For the last week, something had changed between them. He wasn't sure what it was, but he was sure something had changed.

"The numbers are quite remarkable, Your Grace," Lord Strong said. "Since implementing Prince Daeron's suggestions about the City Watch patrols and the rehabilitation program for minor offenders, thievery has decreased by nearly a third."

Viserys nodded, genuinely pleased. "My nephew has quite a mind for these matters. Who would have thought that offering work and training to petty thieves would prove more effective than simply removing their hands?"

"Indeed," Strong agreed, shuffling through some papers. "The cost of maintaining the program is more than offset by the reduction in crime and the increased productivity. Several craft guilds have even started specifically requesting workers from our rehabilitation groups."

"Excellent, excellent," Viserys said, reaching for his goblet of watered wine. "What else do you have for me, Lord Strong?"

They spent the next half hour discussing various matters of state – trade regulations, minor noble disputes, and the ongoing construction of new granaries. Viserys was just about to conclude the meeting when he noticed Strong's hesitation, an unusual sight in the normally forthright lord.

"Is there something else, Lord Strong?" Viserys asked, settling back in his chair.

Strong seemed to choose his words carefully. "Your Grace... have you heard any of the recent rumors circulating through the Red Keep?"

Viserys frowned, setting down his goblet. "What rumors?"

"It may be nothing," Strong said, his voice lowered despite them being alone in the chamber. "But there are reports that Lord Otto was heard having a rather... heated discussion with Lady Alicent two nights past."

A crease appeared between Viserys's brows. "Otto, yelling at his daughter? That seems unlike him. He dotes on the girl."

"Normally, yes," Strong agreed, his expression grave. "Which is what makes this incident noteworthy. Especially since..." he paused meaningfully.

"Since what?"

"Since your name was apparently mentioned several times during their argument, yesterday almost all the servants were talking about it." Strong finished, watching the king's reaction carefully.

Viserys shifted in his seat, suddenly uncomfortable. He had been spending more time with Alicent lately, finding comfort in her gentle presence and wise counsel. But surely Otto wouldn't... "What exactly was said?"

"The details are unclear, Your Grace. Servants' gossip is rarely reliable." Strong spread his hands. "I merely thought you should be aware, given your... friendship with Lady Alicent."

Viserys waved his hand dismissively though something cold had settled in his stomach. "Rumors and whispers, nothing more. Otto knows his place, and Alicent is a proper young lady."

"Of course, Your Grace," Strong inclined his head, though his eyes suggested he wasn't entirely convinced. "I'm sure it's nothing of consequence."

The meeting concluded shortly after, but Viserys remained seated, troubled thoughts swirling through his mind. He had noticed Otto's approving glances whenever he spent time with Alicent, but had attributed it to a father's natural pleasure at his daughter's success at court. Now, though...

"Ser Criston," he called to the Kingsguard at the door. "Please inform Lady Alicent that I wish to speak with her."

But before Ser Criston could leave, another Kingsguard, Ser Erryk, entered the chamber with swift steps. "Your Grace, Lord Corlys and Princess Rhaenys have been sighted approaching the city. They bring their children and a considerable retinue."

"Seven hells," Viserys muttered, rubbing his temples. The Sea Snake rarely left Driftmark without good reason, and his arrival with family in tow suggested this would be no brief social call. "How long until they reach the Keep?"

"Less than an hour, Your Grace. They're coming up the Blackwater Rush by ship."

Viserys stood his planned meeting with Alicent reluctantly set aside. "Very well. Alert the kitchens and have chambers prepared. Ser Criston, find Princess Rhaenyra and Prince Daeron – they should be present to greet their cousins."

As the knights hurried to carry out his commands, Viserys moved to the window, watching the distant sails approaching the city. The Velaryon fleet's arrival was always a magnificent sight, their ships cutting through the water like sea dragons, their hulls gleaming with gold and silver paint.

But his mind kept returning to Strong's words about Otto and Alicent. He had been considering taking a new wife – the Small Council had been increasingly insistent on the matter – and Alicent had seemed a natural choice. Young, intelligent, from a noble house... but if Otto had been orchestrating their interactions...

"Your Grace?" Another servant appeared at the door. "The Lord Hand asks if you require his presence for Lord Corlys's arrival."

Viserys stared out the window for a long moment before responding. "Yes, tell him to attend. And find out where my brother and nephew are – I want all the family present for this."

As the servant hurried away, Viserys straightened his crown and adjusted his rings. Whatever Otto's schemes might be, they would have to wait. The arrival of the Sea Snake and the Queen Who Never Was demanded his full attention. Few things in King's Landing were more politically delicate than a visit from House Velaryon, especially given their close blood ties to the crown.

Still, as he made his way to prepare for their arrival, Viserys couldn't shake the feeling that he was somehow being maneuvered like a piece on a cyvasse board. The question was, by whom? Otto? Daemon? Or was there some other player he hadn't yet identified?

The sound of bells announcing the approach of the Velaryon fleet echoed through the Red Keep, and Viserys pushed his troubled thoughts aside. He would need all his wits about him for whatever game the Sea Snake had sailed here to play.

"Time to be a king," he muttered to himself as servants rushed around him preparing for the impending arrival. "Everything else can wait."

Later

Daeron stood between Rhaenyra and Daemon, observing the tensions playing out before him with the precision of a master player at cyvasse.

Viserys shifted uncomfortably on his feet, his golden crown glinting in the sunlight. Though he maintained his regal bearing, his eyes kept darting toward Otto Hightower, who stood rigidly at his customary place.

Catching Rhaenyra's eye, Daeron allowed himself a slight smirk. His cousin's violet eyes sparkled with understanding, and she had to bite her lip to suppress her own smile. The first seeds of doubt had been planted in Viserys's mind, and they would soon grow into choking vines around Otto's throat.

"Two months," Daeron thought to himself, watching Otto's discomfort with private satisfaction. "Two months of whispers and revelations, and then..." His pleasant musings were interrupted by the sound of hooves on cobblestones.

Three ornate carriages bearing the seahorse sigil of House Velaryon rolled through the gates. The horses pulling them were magnificent creatures, their coats as white as seafoam, their manes braided with silver threads.

The first carriage came to a stop, and Lord Corlys Velaryon emerged with the fluid grace of a man half his age. The Sea Snake cut an impressive figure in his sea-green silk coat, silver-white hair flowing past his shoulders.

Princess Rhaenys followed, her beauty still striking despite the years. Her black and red dress was adorned with rubies that caught the light like drops of blood, her dark hair streaked with the black of her Baratheon heritage. The Queen Who Never Was carried herself with more regal dignity than most who actually wore crowns.

"Your Grace," Corlys bowed to Viserys, his voice carrying across the courtyard. "We thank you for your welcome."

"Cousin," Rhaenys added with a precise curtsy that somehow managed to suggest she was the one granting favor rather than receiving it.

Daeron offered the expected greetings, but his attention had already shifted to the second carriage. Laena Velaryon stepped out, and for a moment, he forgot to breathe.

She had always been beautiful, but the three years since he'd last seen her had transformed her from a pretty girl into a stunning woman. Her silver-gold hair cascaded in waves past her waist, adorned with small pearls that caught the light like morning dew. Her dress, the color of a summer sea, clung to curves that hadn't existed when they were children playing in the gardens of Driftmark.

But it wasn't just her physical beauty that caught his attention. There was a new confidence in her bearing, a woman who knew her own worth. When their eyes met, her smile held a hint of mischief that made his heart skip a beat.

A small sound from beside him drew his attention to Rhaenyra, whose reaction to Laena's appearance was equally apparent, if less restrained. His cousin's cheeks had flushed pink, and her eyes were wide with appreciation. Daeron had to stifle a chuckle – he'd always suspected Rhaenyra's tastes ran in multiple directions, but seeing her so obviously affected was amusing.

"Prince Daeron," Laena's voice was musical as she approached, offering her hand. "It's been far too long."

"Lady Laena," he took her hand and bowed over it, noting the warmth of her skin against his lips. "You've been missed at court."

"Have I?" Her eyebrow arched playfully. "And here I thought you'd be too busy with your many... enterprises to notice my absence."

Before he could respond, Rhaenyra stepped forward. "Laena, you look absolutely stunning!" The two women embraced, and Daeron noticed how Rhaenyra's hands lingered perhaps a moment longer than strictly necessary.

The third carriage revealed young Laenor Velaryon, who had grown into a handsome youth. Though he didn't appear to be interested in Rhaenyra even when his mother told him to greet his cousin, Daeron greeted him warmly. They had always got along well, sharing an interest in books and learning, but not much else.

As the formal greetings continued, Daeron's tactical mind began working on this new development. The Velaryons' arrival complicated his plans regarding Otto, but might also present new opportunities. Laena's presence, in particular, could be either a distraction or an asset, depending on how he played it.

He watched as Viserys led the party into the Keep, noting how Rhaenys and Corlys exchanged significant glances. They hadn't come merely for a social visit – that much was clear. Whatever game they were playing would soon be revealed, and Daeron needed to ensure it didn't interfere with his own plans.

"You're plotting something," Laena's voice came softly from beside him as they walked. "I know that look."

"Am I that transparent?" he asked, matching her quiet tone.

"Only to those who know where to look," she smiled, her eyes twinkling. "Don't worry, your secrets are safe with me. Though I might want something in return for my discretion."

"Oh?" Daeron raised an eyebrow, intrigued by this new, more assertive Laena.

"We'll discuss terms later," she promised, then glided ahead to walk with Rhaenyra, leaving Daeron to admire the view.

Behind them, Otto Hightower walked stiffly, his face a mask of courtesy that didn't quite hide his concern. He had no way of knowing that his argument with Alicent had been overheard.

Daeron allowed himself another small smile. Let Otto worry. Let him wonder. The next two months would systematically strip away everything the Hand held dear – his position, his influence, his reputation, and finally, his life.

After the formal welcomes concluded, Daeron approached Laena, who was admiring the skulls of ancient dragons that lined the great hall. "Would you care for a tour of the Keep? Much has changed since your last visit."

Laena's lips curved into a knowing smile. "Has it now? And I suppose you and Princess Rhaenyra would be my guides?"

"Who better?" Rhaenyra joined them. "We know all the most interesting places."

Though Laena knew every corridor and secret passage of the Red Keep as well as they did, she played along. "Lead on, then."

They wandered through the castle's winding corridors, their footsteps echoing off the stone walls. The formal distance between them melted away as they fell into the easy familiarity of old friends.

"The gardens have changed quite a bit," Laena remarked as they walked through the winding paths. "Though I see the dragon's breath flowers still bloom as vibrantly as ever."

"Father had the gardeners replant everything after that incident with Daemon's dragon," Daeron explained, grinning at the memory. "Caraxes never landed that close to the Red Keep."

Rhaenyra laughed. "Poor gardeners nearly quit that day. I've never seen men run so fast."

"Speaking of running," Laena's eyes sparkled with mischief, "remember when we snuck into the kitchen and stole all those lemon cakes?"

"And blamed it on the cats?" Rhaenyra chuckled. "Cook didn't speak to any of us for a week."

"You were always the masterminds," Laena said, playfully nudging both cousins. "I was just the innocent accomplice."

Daeron snorted. "Innocent? You're the one who suggested we hide them in Septa Martyl's chambers."

"Well, she was always so sour-faced," Laena defended, trying to maintain a straight face. "I thought some sweets might improve her disposition."

"Instead, she blamed the kitchen boys," Rhaenyra added. "Though I did feel a bit guilty about that."

"You slipped them extra coins for weeks after," Daeron reminded her. "Not so guilty that you confessed, though."

They passed by the training yard, where several young squires were practicing their swordplay. Laena paused to watch, tilting her head critically.

"Still keeping up with your own training?" Daeron asked.

"Father insists," Laena replied. "Says a dragon rider should be as dangerous on the ground as in the air. Though I prefer the blade to the morning star these days."

"We should spar sometime," Rhaenyra suggested. "I've improved quite a bit myself."

"Has Daeron been giving you private lessons?" Laena teased.

"Among others," she recovered quickly. "Though Daeron's still the best with a sword among us."

"Only because I practice while you two spend hours primping and gossiping," Daeron jested.

Laena raised an eyebrow. "Oh? And who was it I saw spending an hour arranging his hair before the welcome ceremony?"

"That's different," Daeron protested. "It was windy, and I had important people to impress."

"Important people?" Laena's voice took on a teasing lilt. "And who might those be?"

Before Daeron could respond, they reached the lower gardens where several exotic birds from the Summer Isles were kept in ornate cages.

"These are new," Laena observed, approaching a cage containing a brilliant blue-and-gold bird.

"Father's latest fascination," Rhaenyra explained. "Lord Corlys actually helped procure some of them, I believe."

"Yes, from his last voyage to Basilisk Point," Laena confirmed. "Though he was more interested in the trade routes than the birds." She turned to face them both. "Speaking of interests, I hear you two have been causing quite a stir at court."

"Us?" Rhaenyra affected an innocent expression. "Whatever do you mean?"

"Oh, just whispers here and there," Laena said casually. "Something about secret meetings, mysterious letters, and a certain Hand of the King looking rather worried lately."

Daeron exchanged a quick glance with his cousin. "Court gossip can be so... imaginative."

"Indeed," Laena agreed, her knowing smile suggesting she didn't believe them for a moment. "Almost as imaginative as the stories I've heard about your... personal adventures."

"How about we talk in a more...private place?" Rhaenyra suggested and didn't wait for a reply as she tugged Laena's hand, leading her toward a tower.

"So tell me," Daeron said as they climbed one of the lesser-used spiral staircases, "what adventures has the daughter of the Sea Snake found in the past three years?"

Laena's eyes brightened. "The greatest adventure of all, actually." She paused for a moment. "I claimed Vhagar."

Both cousins stopped in their tracks. Rhaenyra spoke first, "Vhagar? The Queen Visenya's mount?"

"The very same," Laena said, her pride evident in her voice. "She'd been riderless since Lord Baelon's death. I found her nesting in Dragonmont's eastern caves. It took three months of visits before she accepted me, but..." she shrugged, the gesture elegant. "Now we are one."

"That's incredible," Daeron said, genuinely impressed. Vhagar was one of the largest dragons alive, second only to Balerion before his death. "Vermithor would love a flying companion other than Syrax, one that doesn't look like a fly in comparison."

Rhaenyra let out a theatrical sigh. "Yes, well, at least my 'fly' can land without causing a small earthquake. I swear, every time Vermithor touches down, half the castle thinks we're under siege. Though I suppose that's what happens when you feed a dragon's ego as much as his belly."

"Hey, don't be jealous. Vermithor is perfect and everyone knows it." Daeron quickly defended his dragon, much to Laena's amusement.

"I must say, Daeron, your pride in Vermithor's size is adorable. Tell me, does he know you brag about him like a mother hen with her favorite chick?" Rhaenyra countered back with a cheeky smile.

"At least my 'mother hen' could swallow your chick whole," Daeron shot back with a grin. "Though I suppose Syrax's size does make it easier to store her - perhaps we could find her a nice birdcage in the castle gardens?"

"Very funny, Daeron. Why don't you-" "Alright, enough. How about we take to the skies together?" Laena interrupted the two of them.

"I agree with Laena here, cousin."

"There's nothing quite like flying, is there? The freedom, the power, the... excitement."

They had reached one of the castle's many secluded balconies overlooking Blackwater Bay. The setting sun painted the water in shades of gold and purple, and a warm breeze carried the salt scent of the sea.

"Speaking of excitement," Rhaenyra leaned against the stone railing, "surely flying isn't the only excitement in your life? The young lords must be falling over themselves to catch your attention."

Laena laughed, the sound rich and musical. "Oh, they try. But most men bore me. They see my father's ships or my mother's blood, not me." She moved to stand between the cousins. "I prefer... more interesting company."

"And what qualifies as interesting?" Daeron asked, his voice dropping lower.

"Intelligence, for one," Laena turned to face him. "Wit. Ambition. And a certain... flexibility of thinking." Her gaze shifted to Rhaenyra. "Don't you agree, Princess?"

Rhaenyra's violet eyes darkened. "Absolutely. Though I find beauty and grace equally compelling."

Laena smiled, clearly enjoying their attention. "You two haven't changed as much as I'd feared. Still playing your dangerous games?"

"We've learned to be more subtle about it," Daeron said, moving slightly closer. "Though some games are worth the risk."

"Are they?" Laena's fingers brushed against his arm, light as a feather. "And what game are we playing now?"

Rhaenyra stepped closer to Laena's other side. "Whatever game you wish to play. We've always been good at... sharing our toys."

"A toy?" Laena's eyebrow arched. "Is that what you think I am?"

"Never," Daeron said firmly. "You're far too dangerous to be a toy. More like... a fellow player."

Laena turned to face him fully, her body mere inches from his. "And what are the stakes in this game?"

"Pleasure," Rhaenyra whispered, close enough now that her breath tickled Laena's ear. "Adventure. Perhaps even a bit of scandal, if we're not careful."

"Careful is boring," Laena said, her eyes glittering. "And I didn't claim Vhagar by being boring." She stepped back slightly, creating space between them. "But such games require proper timing. And right now, my parents are expecting me for dinner."

"Of course," Daeron inclined his head. "Perhaps tomorrow we could take that flight? Show each other what our dragons can do?"

"I'd like that," Laena smiled. "And afterward... well, we'll see where we can go from there."

They escorted her back to the main halls, their conversation shifting to lighter topics, but the undercurrent of tension remained. As they approached the guest chambers, Laena paused.

"You know," she said thoughtfully, "when Mother suggested this visit, I thought I'd be bored. I'm pleased to be proven wrong."

"We aim to entertain," Rhaenyra said.

"Indeed you do." Laena's eyes sparkled with mischief. "Until tomorrow then. Try not to start any wars before breakfast."

As they watched her disappear into her chambers, Daeron exchanged a look with his cousin. "Well, that was..."

"Interesting," Rhaenyra finished. "Very interesting."

They walked away together, both lost in thought about the possibilities that had just presented themselves. Their plans for Otto's destruction would continue, of course, but now they had a fascinating new element to consider.

"Do you think she knows about our other games?" Rhaenyra asked quietly.

"Probably," Daeron replied. "She's too clever not to sense something's happening. The question is, will she want to play?"

"Only one way to find out," Rhaenyra smiled. "Tomorrow should be... enlightening."

Night - The Throne Room

The Great Hall blazed with hundreds of candles, casting a golden glow over the assembled nobles. Musicians played from the sides, their melodies weaving through the buzz of conversation and laughter.

Daeron sat at the high table, watching the scene before him with barely concealed amusement. Alicent was to his right, resplendent in Hightower green and gold, while Rhaenyra sat to his left in bold Targaryen black and red. Laena, seated beside Rhaenyra, had chosen a gown of deep purple that made her violet eyes seem to glow in the candlelight.

"The Dornish red is excellent tonight," Daeron remarked, taking a delicate sip from his goblet. "Though perhaps not as good as some other things."

His eyes flickered meaningfully toward Laena, who was currently leaning close to Rhaenyra, ostensibly to hear something over the music. Their faces were inches apart, silver-gold hair mingling with silver-white. Daeron noticed the way Alicent was staring at the two with clear hunger in her eyes.

"Careful, sweet Alicent," Daeron murmured, letting his hand brush against hers beneath the table. "People might notice you staring."

Alicent's cheeks flushed slightly, though whether from the wine or his touch was unclear. "I'm merely being observant. It's what we Hightowers do best, isn't it?"

"Among other things," he agreed, his voice dropping lower. "Though I can think of several things you do even better."

On his other side, Rhaenyra was engaged in her own game. "You must tell me where you found this fabric," she said to Laena, running her fingers along the other woman's sleeve. "It feels amazing."

"Myrish silk," Laena replied, her eyes dancing. "I'd be happy to let you examine it more closely... later."

"How generous," Rhaenyra purred. "Though I warn you, I can be quite thorough in my examinations."

Daeron caught Alicent watching the exchange, her breathing slightly quicker than usual. He leaned closer to her. "Imagining something interesting?"

"Always," she whispered back. "Though reality often proves more interesting than imagination, doesn't it?"

The feast progressed, course after course served amid increasing warmth and merriment. The wine flowed freely, and as the evening wore on, inhibitions began to loosen.

"I don't think I've ever seen the Princess so... attentive to a guest," one courtier remarked to another, watching as Rhaenyra fed Laena a piece of honey-dripped fruit.

"Lady Laena is an old friend," Alicent interjected smoothly. "It's natural they should be close."

"Very close," Daeron agreed, his tone innocent while his eyes were anything but. "We're all quite fond of her."

As the music shifted to a livelier tune, Rhaenyra stood. "Daeron, won't you dance with me? For old times' sake?"

Daeron rose, taking her hand. "How could I refuse?"

They moved to the dance floor, their movements perfectly synchronized from years of practice. As they turned and spun, they could see Alicent and Laena watching them, both women's eyes dark with barely concealed desire.

"They're both ready to leave," Rhaenyra murmured as Daeron pulled her close during a turn.

"Patience, Nyra," he replied, though his own anticipation was evident. "Let them simmer a bit longer."

When the dance ended, they returned to find Alicent and Laena in quiet conversation, their heads bent close together. Both women looked up as the cousins approached.

"Discussing anything interesting?" Rhaenyra asked, reclaiming her seat.

"Oh, just old stories," Laena replied airily. "Your little friend was telling me about the secret passages in the Keep. Apparently, there are quite a few I haven't discovered yet."

"Perhaps we could give you a tour," Daeron suggested. "After the feast, of course."

"All four of us?" Laena's question was barely above a whisper.

"Unless you'd prefer a smaller party," Rhaenyra said, her formal tone belied by the heat in her eyes.

"The more the merrier," Laena responded, raising her goblet in a subtle toast. "Though I warn you, I can be quite... adventurous in my explorations."

"Perfect," Rhaenyra smiled, a predatory gleam in her violet eyes. "We do so love adventures."

After one more hour, they decided that it's time to have fun.

Later

The four of them entered Laena's bedchamber through a secret passage. Daeron poured the Dornish red wine into cups, his gaze already fixed on Laena as she moved closer, her hips swaying. Her dress clung to her curves, but barely; it seemed a breath would undo the delicate lacing.

She pressed herself against him, her lips close to his ear. "What wicked plans do you have for me tonight, my prince?" The words slid from her tongue like honey, and she didn't wait for an answer before teasing her fingertips down his chest, feeling the strength coiled beneath his tunic.

His growl was low and possessive. "I'll make you scream my name until your throat is raw, my dragon."

He didn't hesitate, seizing her lips in a bruising kiss that left her breathless, tongues clashing in a battle for dominance. Laena nipped his lower lip, the sting sharp, but Daeron only growled deeper, ripping at the ties of her dress with skilled fingers. She laughed, breathy, daring him. "Think you can tame me so easily?"

"We'll see who tames who,"

The Full Version of All One Shots written so far are available for Sergeant Tier or Higher.