The Crow Lord - A dragon Princess. (Patreon)
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Aegon “Egg” Targaryen, Ashford
Aegon was at the entrance of the dungeons of Ashford castle, in his hands there was a tray with a generous amount of food.
It was the least he could do, after the colossal problem he had caused Ser Duncan.
The young prince was dressed in his royal attire, his tailored tunic with the Targaryen colors adorned his body and with a simple gesture, he ordered the cell where Duncan was to be opened.
The heavy hinges creaked, revealing the worried giant, still dressed in the elegant tunics that marked him as a man in service of House Potter, his face carried a deep frown.
“Your dinner, Ser,” said the small prince in a quiet tone of voice.
However, Ser Duncan did not respond, his gaze remained lost, although his eyes betrayed his thoughts, the eyes of a man who believed he had been betrayed.
That is because that is exactly what you did, a voice inside Aegon’s head told him.
“What will become of me?” Duncan asked cautiously, still without looking at him.
Egg hesitated.
“Normally… they would cut off a hand and a foot, in the best of cases, but… I interceded for you before my uncle Baelor, as did Lord Harrys and Lady Lily,” said the small bald prince with caution.
And at those words, Duncan looked at him with extreme surprise, as if he could not believe what he had just heard.
“Lord Harrys and Lady Lily spoke in my favor?” the giant asked, still incredulous.
Aegon, with wounded pride, chose to ignore the fact that Duncan seemed to give no importance to his intervention, and simply nodded.
“Yes, not only that, Lord Harrys mobilized his not insignificant regiment and prepared them to fight if necessary, there have been no incidents, but the Potter soldiers are… feared in Westeros,” said Aegon cautiously, still remembering the look of his uncle Baelor when he learned of it.
And all because of his stupid brother.
“Lord Harrys is an honorable man, I am glad and proud to be in his service,” said Duncan with firmness and determination.
“My uncle Baelor wishes to speak with you, he requested that I escort you to him as soon as you finish your dinner,” said Egg, making Duncan nod and eat in silence, still without looking at him.
The silence stretched for several minutes and became so uncomfortable that Egg could not help but say.
“I’m sorry, it was not my intention to lie,” said the small prince cautiously.
“But you did,” said Duncan, not with anger, but with disappointment.
Disappointment that Aegon had made a fool of him, a true insult in fact, even more so because Duncan always made an effort to share whenever he could with Egg.
Tears threatened to fall from the prince’s eyes, but Egg did everything possible to prevent them from falling down his face.
Evidently, without success.
The rest of the meal and the walk to where Prince Baelor was located were in complete silence, at least until they approached the door in question.
Where a discussion was taking place.
“It was an insult, even if it is a simple act, simulating the death of a dragon is an insult to the royal house, Aerion’s actions were… not appropriate and he will be reprimanded for it, but he is within his right in his accusation against Ser Duncan,” said the prince.
And then Lady Lily’s voice responded.
“Is he? Duncan was fulfilling his duty as a knight by defending the maiden, defenseless, from the little monster you call nephew, Harrys also insulted House Targaryen by humiliating Valarr, why did Aerion not choose him for the joust?” Lady Lily challenged, with a ferocity that Duncan had never heard in her voice.
“The Lords speak, and what they see is a prince who acts like an animal and who is incapable of controlling himself, something dangerous, considering the political and vulnerable situation of your family, Baelor,” said Lady Lily with her characteristic elegance, but the edge in her voice was more than present.
Egg and Duncan looked at each other in surprise, the discussion seemed to be dominated by Lady Lily entirely.
“House Targaryen is the Royal House, the House of the Dragon—”
And at that point, before Prince Baelor could continue, the beautiful Lady interrupted him, her voice cold and precise.
“The dragons are dead, House Targaryen rules because the Lords of Westeros allow it, or will you tell me that if the Starks close the Neck or the Lannisters fortify the Golden Tooth, the Royal House would be capable of subduing them again? And even dragons are no guarantee of anything, your mother’s family is sufficient proof of that—”
And Prince Baelor did not respond, although Aegon did not blame him, he himself would not know how to respond to such an… accurate argument.
A moment later, Prince Baelor spoke again, now with a calm and soft voice, with a feeling that Aegon could not identify.
“I had forgotten how terrifyingly intelligent you are, a virtue that, according to my sources, Harrys inherited in excess—”
Lady Lily did not respond, or if she did, Aegon did not hear it, so having heard enough, he simply knocked on the door.
A moment of silence followed by what seemed like hurried steps.
“Enter,” ordered the voice of his uncle, allowing them in.
Aegon entered with Ser Duncan, and both watched as Prince Baelor seemed to adjust the upper part of his tunic, while a satisfied Lady Lily walked toward them with her warm smile so characteristic of her.
“A pleasure to see you whole, Duncan,” said the beautiful woman with genuine concern for the large young man.
Duncan simply looked away before beginning to stammer and apologize over and over again.
However, Lily stopped him immediately with a simple gesture of her elegant hand, her nails painted in the green color of her house.
A custom from her lands of origin that had become popular among the highest-born ladies of Essos and Westeros, since the substance necessary for such a thing was only produced and sold by the Potters.
Daella, her sister, had the habit of painting her nails red on a regular basis.
“Do not apologize, Duncan, you have nothing to apologize for, you acted as a great man, following the vows of a true knight,” she said with complete firmness, making a surprised Duncan look at her in silence.
“Let the world not forget that, when the rest of knights and nobles looked at a woman in distress, many chose to look away, choosing what was easy instead of what was right, never be ashamed of doing what is right, Duncan, never be ashamed of being a good man,” said Lily, as she gently took Duncan’s face.
There was nothing romantic or passionate in the intimate gesture, but something else… maternal to a certain extent.
And judging by the naked hope and hunger in Duncan’s face at the intimate contact, Lily Potter, with that simple and small gesture, had earned the unconditional loyalty of the young Duncan.
Forever.
The large young man nodded in silence, his eyes filled with naked gratitude and absolute loyalty toward Lily Potter, before focusing on Prince Baelor and asking.
“What… what will happen to me?” the uncertainty in his voice more than clear.
The prince looked at him in silence for a few moments, before sighing and speaking.
“Aerion will press charges, as is his right, his actions were questionable and he will be reprimanded for them, but that does not justify yours,” said the prince, as he walked toward Duncan and began to explain the possible punishments, each more horrible than the last.
And then, with a small cunning smile, Prince Baelor said.
“For that same reason, your only option is a trial by combat, it is your best opportunity, Ser,” said the prince, surprising the enormous knight, who nodded slowly, although the concern was more than visible on his face.
Duncan frowned, but nodded slowly, understanding the prince’s words.
“I understand… your grace,” said the young man solemnly.
Lily smiled calmly and said.
“You have been training a lot, Duncan, and your cause is just, you have nothing to worry about, approach Harrys, I am sure he will be delighted to give you some advice and the necessary equipment,” said the beautiful red-haired Lady with complete certainty in her words.
Duncan smiled softly and opened his mouth to respond, however, before he could say anything, Prince Baelor intervened.
“Speaking of Harrys, where is he?” the prince asked with curiosity.
Aegon responded automatically.
“Lord Harrys had received a message from Huginn in the morning, and said that he would be indisposed for the rest of the day, he only left orders to the Potter soldiers to… well, you know,” said the young prince.
“Huginn? Who is Huginn?” his uncle Baelor asked, looking at the red-haired Lady with curiosity.
“It is Lord Harrys’ messenger raven, uncle, he trained it since it was small to send messages throughout Westeros, it is huge!” said the small prince with excitement, completely unaware of the slight tension on Lady Lily’s face.
“Is that enough for today, dear Egg? I assume you will remain in the castle from now on?” asked the beautiful redhead as she stood up and prepared to leave, to the evident disappointment of his uncle.
The small bald boy nodded with some embarrassment and said.
“Yes, my Lady, my Lord Father has arrived and… I must calm his old heart regarding my whereabouts, the maesters say that at his age strong emotions are dangerous,” he said, making Lily laugh softly and Baelor sigh with a mixture of amusement and resignation.
“Your father is not that old, Aegon, but you are right that he will want to see you,” said the prince.
Lily nodded and without saying another word, looked at Duncan.
“Let’s go, Duncan, you need to rest for your trial,” said the Lady as she turned around and headed toward the exit.
Ser Duncan did not hesitate for even a second, he simply bowed his head to Prince Baelor, nodded quickly to Egg and followed his Lady.
To Egg’s surprise and disbelief, Ser Roland and Ser Donnel allowed them to leave without intervening.
“Won’t you try to stop them?” Egg asked, genuinely curious, making his uncle simply snort.
“Both recognize a lost cause when they see one, Lily is honorable, she will bring the young Duncan in the morning for the trial, come nephew, dinner awaits us and I must make a stop with the maester of Ashford,” said the prince as they began walking through the corridors of the fortress.
Aegon looked at his uncle with curiosity and asked.
“The maester? Do you need to send a letter, uncle Baelor?”
His uncle smiled softly and shook his head, clearly amused by his questions.
“No, Aegon, but… I want more information about this… Huginn you mentioned, as far as I understand, ravens can send messages to places, I would like to satisfy that small curiosity—”
Aegon nodded, not really understanding his uncle’s interest in the techniques Lord Harrys had used on his bird.
But that was not important.
What mattered was that Duncan truly had a chance.
Tomorrow would be an interesting day.
Of that, he had no doubt.
But for now…
He had some lamb ribs with his name on them in the dining hall.
After they visited the maester, of course.
Princess Daella Targaryen, Ashford Castle – The Reach
“And this is the main vestibule, Princess,” said Lady Gwyn with elegance, as both of them walked through the… picturesque castle of Ashford.
It was not that Daella truly had complaints, but after spending her life among the beautiful fields of Summerhall, the imposing presence of the Red Keep or the exquisite and subtle luxury of Potter Manor…
This place was quite disappointing.
“It is quite cozy, my Lady,” said Daella diplomatically, with the practiced smile she had perfected her entire life.
Educated.
Perfect.
Alas, it seemed that Lady Gwyn was not like the typical insipid women she was used to, Daella was able to notice a slight tension in her neck and how her face turned completely neutral.
“I understand that it is not Summerhall or the Red Keep, Princess, but it has been the home of the Ashfords for hundreds of years, we are proud of the history within these walls, I imagine that the descendants of your Lord Father will feel the same way in a few centuries, Summerhall is still quite a new castle, after all—”
Oh, it seemed the little sunshine was not as docile and submissive as she appeared.
An excellent sign, if she was being honest.
Alas, it was necessary to remind inferiors of their place.
Even more so, because Daella recognized instantly the jewel that Gwyn Ashford wore on her neck.
“A beautiful jewel, my Lady, a true work of art,” she said naturally, while discreetly guiding their walk away from the main atrium of the castle toward where the infamous trial was being held.
Another of Aerion’s foolishness, Daella thought.
And with Harrys involved again, as if the last time had not been enough.
Gwyn, distracted by the question, blushed slightly and touched the jewel with evident affection.
“Oh… thank you, Princess, it was… it was a birthday gift,” she said shyly, but clearly lost in the memory attached to the object, if the foolish smile on her face was any indication.
“I imagine so, it is a beautiful jewel, whoever made it must have incredible talent working metal,” said the princess sincerely, although she recognized perfectly well where such an ostentatious gift had come from.
She would speak very seriously with her future husband as soon as she saw him, the princess thought, filled with jealousy just imagining that HER Harrys was giving jewels to another Lady.
Gwyn Ashford nodded softly and with a hesitant voice said.
“It was… it was a gift from Lord Harrys, Princess, I am sure he would have no problem making a commission for the royal family,” said the young Ashford, trying to be polite.
“I am sure it would not be a problem,” said Daella with an amused smile, finding the little Ashford completely adorable, knowing perfectly well that Harrys would do anything she ordered.
They were destined for each other, after all.
Alas, the discussion about her man would have to wait.
They had arrived at their destination.
And then, the voice of her useless brother was heard through the door.
“It was an insult, he dared to touch a prince of the realm—”
“He defended an innocent woman, I know that the notion of doing something selfless is foreign to you, but there are people who take their word very seriously,” Harrys responded.
Gods, his mere voice made Daella shiver with desire, remembering those fleeting afternoons in Potter Manor, the pearled waves and the orange sunset.
“He insulted the dragon! The dragon never loses!” her brother snapped petulantly, only to be interrupted with severity and coldness by Harrys.
A tone Daella had never heard from him before.
“I did as well, I insulted the dragon, humiliated it and dragged through the mud of the tournament the ‘pride’ of the House of the Dragon, and from what I saw, you had no intention of choosing me in the joust to teach me a lesson, or is it that your courage only appears when facing women and animals?” Harrys snapped, fury evident in his voice, surprising her.
Her beloved was normally polite and respectful.
For Harrys to speak like this…
He had to be truly furious.
At her side, Lady Gwyn said something that immediately caught her attention.
“It seems they are still discussing the fate of Ser Duncan.”
Daella looked at her and asked.
“Ser Duncan? Who is that? What happened?” the princess asked.
“A young knight in service to House Potter, Prince Aerion… punished a puppeteer with cruelty, damaging her finger in a terrible way, Ser Duncan intervened to separate them, striking the prince in the process, when the Targaryen guards intervened, so did the Potter guards in defense of the knight, the situation nearly spiraled out of control, only being calmed by the presence of Prince Aegon,” said Lady Gwyn distractedly, while trying to listen further to the discussion.
Daella was about to ask more about that interesting situation, but the discussion behind the door continued.
This time by her father, Prince Maekar.
“Enough! This man struck a prince, he must be punished!” his voice sounded tired, but firm.
And then, an unfamiliar voice to Daella intervened.
“I… I request a trial by combat, my prince,” said a masculine voice, deep, but… young at the same time, it was truly difficult to explain.
“As is your right,” said her uncle Baelor, only to be interrupted by Aerion.
“No, a trial of seven,” her mad brother snapped, making both maidens inhale sharply.
“By the Gods!” said Gwyn, bringing her hand to her mouth, trying to silence her small slip.
“There has not been a Trial of Seven in more than a century…” Daella whispered to herself, completely distracted.
So much so that she did not notice that the voices inside the room had fallen silent.
And in an instant, the door opened abruptly.
“Princess, my Lady,” said Lord Donnel with his characteristic calm, making both young women blush completely.
Gwyn was utterly embarrassed, but Daella quickly composed herself and said in a calm and controlled voice.
“Ser Donnel, a pleasure to see you again, is my father here?” said the princess with her characteristic sharpness.
Donnel simply sighed and stepped aside, allowing the princess to pass, who took Gwyn’s hand and entered the room with firm steps.
Although both stopped abruptly as they noticed how everyone present looked at them with curiosity.
Her father looked at her and simply sighed, while beginning to rub his face with heaviness, Daeron was more interested in his cup and Aerion stared at Harrys obsessively.
Nothing new there, the princess thought.
“Daella, dear niece, what are you doing here?” her uncle asked with his characteristic elegance and courtesy, completely different from the rough attitude of her beloved father.
The princess smiled brightly at her uncle and said with false innocence.
“Oh uncle, Lady Gwyn and I got lost in the corridors of the castle and could not help but hear the troubling news, a Trial of Seven?” the princess asked, redirecting the attention away from their impropriety and back to the topic at hand.
“What the hell is a Trial of Seven?” Maekar muttered to himself, quickly receiving an answer as the discussion continued.
“I will take responsibility for gathering and preparing Ser Duncan for his proper defense,” said Harrys, his cold tone revealing the fury he felt.
In a blink, the “trial” discussion ended.
Lady Lily left the place accompanied by her uncle Baelor, to Daella’s complete lack of surprise, Harrys was speaking with an affected young knight, who simply nodded at everything her beloved said, while at the same time her father approached her.
“Father,” she said with a radiant smile, as she embraced Prince Maekar, the true weak point of the Prince of Summerhall, who simply sighed and returned the gesture to his daughter.
“So… another of Aerion’s stupidity?” she asked playfully, making Daeron snort to hide his laughter.
Her father snorted and said.
“A dangerous one, I will have to gather fierce warriors to calm Harrys Potter’s fury, it is more than evident that he will fight on Ser Duncan’s side, and I have no doubt that he will not miss the opportunity to drive a lance through your brother’s neck for his foolishness,” said Prince Maekar, clearly extremely stressed.
Daella simply nodded, although she did not respond, her attention interrupted by Daeron’s words.
“And here comes the raven—”
It was barely a whisper.
And apparently, only Daella was able to hear it.
“I am leaving, I will take Aerion away before he does something stupid,” said Maekar, dragging his son with him, knowing perfectly well that Harrys would never harm Daella.
Daeron followed his father, but not before whispering a warning to the princess.
“Be careful with the Lord of Ravens, sister, he is more than he seems, much more,” said her brother, and without another word, followed their father.
Just at the moment Harrys approached them, Ser Duncan behind him like a shadow, solemn and proud to wear Potter colors.
Harrys looked directly at her, an action she returned with equal intensity, their bond so strong that words were unnecessary to communicate a thousand things.
There was tension.
Resentment.
And… a mutual desire that threatened to burn all of Westeros.
The insipid Ashford hurried with the introductions.
“Harrys! She is—”
However, this was precisely the moment Daella had been waiting for.
The thrust.
The blow to all the hopes of the little Ashford.
“There is no need, dear, Harrys knows me… very, very well, I assure you,” said the princess, with that mischievous tone that suggested a thousand things.
Daella enjoyed the look of shock on the young woman’s face and, without any kind of mercy, prepared herself for the final strike.
“After all, I have been betrothed to my dear Harrys for a long… long time,” said the princess, enjoying the look of terror on the young Gwyn’s face, who looked at Harrys, pleading for an answer.
“You were… betrothed to me, or have you already forgotten the words of the ‘dear’ King Daeron? How I am only a… simple foreign merchant?”
Those words calmed Gwyn, but Daella would not give up.
“By the Gods, Harrys, after what we did, do you truly believe I would allow another inferior man to touch me? You are mine and you always will be, and I am yours, forever,” whispered the dragon princess, the mixture of Valyrian and Dornish blood making her seductive, dangerous and unforgettable by nature.
Harrys simply frowned, while the little Gwyn looked at his hand, as if she wished to take it, but not daring to do so.
Good.
Let the little girl understand her place.
Harrys belonged to her.
To Daella Targaryen.
And to no one else.
“Now, Harrys, escort us please, I wish to see what the tournament has to offer,” said the princess, taking his right arm with natural elegance.
Without waiting for an answer, she looked at Gwyn with a small smile and said.
“Take his other arm, my Lady, Lord Harrys will take us for a walk, I am sure we have… much to discuss,” said the princess, enjoying the tension in the young Ashford.
The tournament would be far more interesting than expected.
Watching Harrys kick Aerion’s ass would be the main event.
But she would entertain herself with the little Ashford for now.
Perhaps she would even take her as a lady-in-waiting.
A small toy to give to Harrys from time to time.
If she behaved well.
Daella always got what she wanted.
The easy way.
Or the hard way.