Into the Dragon's Den

Playing with Fire

It was late the next morning, nearly midday, when Laena sat at the table in her mother's room, still in her robes, still tired from the night before. As she picked at the leftover food from breakfast, she listened to Rhaenyra and Daemon debate with one another over their children. The rest of her siblings had already broken fast and had begun their day without her.

"Clearly the children cannot even pretend to play nice, Daemon. If we stay it will only end in some kind of disaster."

"Rhaenyra, as you said, they are children. What's the worst that can happen with us here to keep an eye on them?"

"Did you see Jace and Aemond last night?" Rhaenyra cried out, "they're going to kill each other." Daemon snorted.

"I will do as you command, princess. If you want to return to Dragonstone, that is what we will do, but I do not think it wise to leave your father with the greens, not in the state he is in."

"Father's right, mother," Laena interjected. "You haven't seen grandfather in years and he looks worse than ever; he needs you here. If you like, I will keep an eye on the boys as much as I can." Daemon mussed her hair and kissed the top of her head.

"That's my girl," he murmured. Rhaenyra sighed and shook her head, but finally agreed that her father needed her more than the children's rivalry was a threat.

Laena dressed in her leathers and pulled her curls back, braiding them as best she could. Her hair was a constant battle and sometimes she wished she could have inherited her mother's tresses, rather than her eyes. At the thought of her genealogy, her mind drifted to her fathers and she felt a pang in her gut. She missed them both: her strong, valiant Ser Harwin and her warm, comforting Ser Laenor. It was all she could do not to collapse to the floor in tears.

Perhaps losing two fathers in only a matter of weeks was why she had taken to Daemon so quickly. Not only had he given her the comfort she desperately needed, but he had trained her and taught her more about dragons than Laenor or Harwin would have. She was grateful to have him as her father, but he would never completely replace the men she had lost. When Laena finally collected herself and the pain in her heart subsided, the made her way through the keep to find her brothers.

"If you aren't going to train, you shouldn't be in the yard," she scolded as she joined them. "You're only going to antagonize him." The trio's eyes all shot over to Aemond, who was conversing with Ser Criston and readying for another sparring match.

"Are we not dressed for training?" Jace countered, gesturing to his own clothing.

"Yes, but you're just standing in the corner," she complained with a roll of her eyes.

"Fine, fight with me, sister." Laena shook her head in amusement but grinned. They had sparred many times and Laena always won. "Without dual wielding..." he added teasingly. Damn him... Jace knew she wasn't nearly as skilled at holding a shield. She enjoyed the ease and movement of two blades. Behind her, she could hear the clashing and clattering as Aemond and Cole began to fight.

Laena selected her items and readied herself, sliding her arm into the shield. The blade she picked was longer and heavier than last time, and gods she hated it. She sank back into her stance and grinned at her brother. Jace struck first and she easily countered, their swords clashing. Jace was physically stronger than she was, but she was more agile. When he shoved against her shield with his own, she stumbled backward. She caught herself with a roll, landing in a crouch.

"That was low, brother." she grinned, "You would be eating the dirt already if I were armed with my preferred choice of weapons."

"Sister, you know better than that. When in battle we— "