bloodrite

xv.

There is a good amount of fanfare to greet them as the carriage rolls to a stop in the courtyard of the Red Keep. Despite his desire to fly them directly into the Dragonpit, Daemon has opted to simply meet them here after leaving Caraxes. Leanna steps from the carriage, her gaze going to the approaching horse. Her husband drops from the mare's back, hair still wild from his ride on dragonback.

She was not opposed to riding on the great red dragon, but all three of them on his back over such a long journey made her uneasy. She had allowed Daemon to take his son into the air before, much like his mother had done with him after his birth. It was a tradition her husband wanted to keep alive, and as long as he remained low to the ground and away from storm gales she would not deny him.

"Let me see my grandson," the deep voice of Baelon parts the waiting servants. Leanna looks behind her, to the wet nurse holding the infant.

Nearly four months old, and just about the healthiest baby the nurse had ever seen, she swore. Pale of hair and loud, his dark eyes expressive. Baelon, looking at the baby, grins.

"You're lucky you married a beautiful woman, Daemon." He holds out his arms, accepting the child from the wet nurse. "Have you decided on a name for his nameday?"

Daemon had picked the name out on the day of his birth, but it would not be used officially throughout the kingdom until after he was blessed by Jaehaerys in a naming ceremony. The time had finally come for his nameday, and they had made the journey North. Leanna had hoped it would have happened sooner, but a fierce early winter gale had struck two months ago and the snow had stuck until a few weeks past. Their journey had still been marked with ice and a defined chilled that she felt in her bones.

"Aerys," Leanna answers, smoothing down her skirts as she watches Baelon entertain his grandson.

"Fitting," he answers to the child. "What an excellent Targaryen you'll make. Let's get you inside out of this chill."

Leanna and Daemon follow the heir through the great doors into the entrance hall. Inside the Red Keep, the fires are lit and roaring. This winter is certainly hitting with a force, even here. The ocean beyond is loud and incessant, being whipped into a torment by the fierce winds. It was as if a great dragon, larger than Balerion himself, was whipping at the lands with great wings.

"There will be a great hunt in his honor," Baelon informs them as they walk. "My father has requested it himself." He pauses, turning an appraising eye on the couple. "He thinks it will be good for you to begin reconciliation through Grand Maester Allar."

Leanna winces. The subject is still sore between her and Daemon. Despite their best efforts at explaining why maester Owen had been put to death, Oldtown had been stubborn. The Citadel had refused to send a new maester to them, though that wasn't exactly something Leanna minded. Still, being on the Citadel's list of enemies was not something she wished to achieve. She was loathsome to send coin to pay their debts.

Daemon scoffs. Baelon's look is one of warning. He might be Daemon's twin in everything but age, yet he knew when it was wise to keep peace with Oldtown. They were a foe that Daemon would be foolish to contest.

"You will thank the Grand Maester repeatedly for seeing to the blessing of your son. He has only agreed to do so on account of his good standing with House Targaryen as a whole."

"Of course," Leanna answers, painfully aware of the eyes on them. "We are excited to reconcile with the Citadel and enter their good graces once more." Baelon's nod is imperceptible, but she catches it. She, too, warns Daemon with a look before reaching out her arms for Aerys. "How is the king?"

"He is well and excited to receive you tomorrow for the ceremony."

That told Leanna everything she needed to know. Jaehaerys would not be at the dinner with them that night, and she was unsure what to expect for the ceremony. She knew the king was in constant decline, as Daemon had warned her of before her arrival. Yet being in the city and seeing its effects was something that made her uneasy.

The worry sits heavy on her mind until she is standing before the Iron Throne, Aerys in her arms. Against the suggestions from her maids, she wears Stormswaith at her hip. It's a reminder, as much as a comfort to her. Her dress matches the sword and scabbard, the dark material woven heavy and lined to keep her warm in the cold. Black and red, as another reminder that she is a Targaryen as much as a Baratheon.

Jaehaerys is more gaunt and shaky than the last time she saw him, more than a year prior at the trial of Borros Baratheon. Yet there is an aura of prowess around him as he stands, and moves down the platform.

Leanna does not relax until Jaehaerys dismisses them to disperse for the hunt and great feast, her son officially anointed into the royal line of House Targaryen. She allows the wet nurse to take Aerys from her before they enter the carriage to depart for the Kingswood.

"Are you participating in the hunt, my Lady?" Leanna turns, greeting the kind face of Daemon's brother. He is accompanied by his wife, and the young toddler in her arms.

"I would like to, but I think I will sit this one out," she answers with a smile. "Yourself?"

"I think it's best we leave all the glory and honor to our father," Viserys responds, glancing over his shoulder to where Baelon is helping Jaehaerys into a carriage. "He's been excited about this for months, ever since we reached word that your child was a healthy boy."

"We were blessed after a few tense months," Leanna answers. "Which are hopefully behind us."

"There haven't been any more whispers?"

"Plenty," Daemon shrugs. "Lots of unrest of the Stepstones. It will mean war soon, but there's not much we can do when our king is aged and his heir is still growing accustomed to his role."

"Careful," Viserys warns, his eyes flashing. Daemon doesn't back down.

"Your waters are not plagued by promises of pirates and death. Ours are. Even Dragonstone won't be safe for much longer. Something must be done."

"Which," Leanna interrupts him curtly, intertwining her arm with his and tugging him back towards the carriage, "we will have time to discuss with your father after the hunt. Let us have a moment to be a family and enjoy the good graces of the king before you go singing of war."

Daemon's jaw flexes, but he follows her to the carriage. It feels as if there is too much amenity between them about things like this. There is one way Daemon wishes to go about things, and that is not the way the crown would favor. He wants to ride right into the Triarchy holdings and burn them with Caraxes. Leanna would not argue this, but the recent repercussions with the Citadel have made her reconsider her actions. There would be consequences if Daemon was unleashed upon the Stepstones. Ones that Leanna and Aerys would both suffer for. Burning a maester was one thing, but burning an entire army was another.

"Be careful," she warns him in the carriage. "There is more than just us to worry about now."

"Which is why I would not sit idle. What if there is a snake placed in his crib? Or released when he is out playing?"

"Then you must have faith in that silly little terrier you gifted him," she laughs, refusing to let his fears sour the mood. "Come now, Daemon. This is a great day. Let's just enjoy it."

He sighs, but doesn't argue. His head rests against the paneling of the carriage. "You should go on the hunt. I know you miss being able to participate in such things."

"That would not be wise," she answers, keeping her gaze trained out the window. "Unless you want me to lose a child."

It takes Daemon a moment to understand her meaning. And then, he is grinning.