«They say coronation is the nervous ceremony, consisting of fear, anxiety and hints of proud. I completely disagree. For me, coronation tasted as a win and irritation. A win, because in the end they kneeled before me, and an irritation because common people can be too loud sometimes. I wish they could shut the f—»

— From Drusilla Tyrell's memoirs.

•

Coronation was nothing as Aemond excepted it to be. Somehow, in this imagination always painted this day differently in his mind. But then again, the last few days had been delirious: family gathering at one plays, pacts made, by blood, even, funerals of the Viserys, and, finally, ceremony itself. So, he guesses it is fine that reality seems completely different of what he imagined.

He tries to get used to it as much as it is possible. Gladly, Irellea, here to help.

'My king-g,' she whispers in his ear, fingers playing with front strands of his hair, 'you look so tense!'

Well, he is tense.

He can't sit on this Throne properly, for fuck's sake.

He can't even lean on it, because remembers what his father had become, and it is... Well, a scary perspective. Somehow, he is sure to be absolutely unworthy of this place.

It is Irellea, who easily plops on it, when no one is around, throwing her legs on the throne's handle as if it is not deadly.

When he saw it for the first time, he almost died on the spot. What a careless woman!

'Mhm, I am really intending to return to my throne,' he muses, eyeing Irellea.

She raises her brows.

'You already are, Aemond.'

'Really?' He hums lazily. 'But my throne is being buried between your l—'

A mighty smack echoes in the walls of the hall as Aemond snickers from this reaction.

'I am not allowing you to speak with Aegon anymore.' She hisses, folding arms on her chest, as if Aemond doesn't know how much she likes that.

'My, My, the Shrike Queen is really as cruel as people say,' he teases.

The Shrike Queen is something that people from the Reach started to call Drusilla Tyrell as she became the Queen. Despite this, somehow, cruel meaning, they mostly meant well. In truth, Aemond assumed that it is something Augustus Tyrell spread around as a gift for his sister, well-knowing that Lea would approve.

'Aemond, you—'

Before they manage to get into silly arguments that they learned to accept as their favourite activity—there is really something nice about bickers that have no intention to be ill, and only serving the better mood—the doors of the hall open, letting inside a few of their family members and knights.

Aemond doesn't spot Rhaenyra—her family from now live in the Dragonstone, because apparently Viserys wished so; Aemond has a hard time understanding how somehow trusted Irellea with her words after all what happened, but, well, her goal of maintaining control is achieved, and it is the only thing that matters—so, it must be nothing serious.

'Drusilla, Aemond,' his mother is shining, waving her hand at them enthusiastically. 'Sorry for bothering you, both, but we have an important guest!'

'Don't worry,' his wife hums. 'We are always glad to meet new allies.'

His mother's relationship with Irellea seem strange nowadays. He only spotted them on the next day before the funeral together, Alicent crying on Drusilla's shoulder, and then, everything went back to normal. His mother simply pretends that she is the same clueless girl they knew, though Irellea doesn't act like that anymore. It looks strange, truly, but as far as all his favourite women—mother, sister and Irellea—are happy, he doesn't care about details.

'Well, who it is?'

'Little brother had returned!'

Aemond is slow to realise that there is such an unfamiliar, yet, loved face among his family.

Daeron.

They saw each other for the last time so many years ago, Daeron still being a little brat, clinging to his cloak! And though, they exchanged letters quite often, it was not the same. None of them could prepare Aemond to these changes. His little brother with round squishy cheeks and big eyes had grown in a stunning young man, a handsome one. Envyingly, Aemond can even say that he is much more handsome than him and Aegon, both taken together.

With a charming smile on his face, Daeron slowly falls on his knee, hand on the chest.

'My King and My Queen, though late for marriage and coronation, as I plead you to forgive me, I am here to offer my loyalty all to you. Please accept it. I promise to serve you only good.'

Aemond finds himself smiling, before even realising it.

Cheeky kid. Always was and always will.

'Come on, brother. Stop this grotesque, meet me properly.' Aemond huffs, waving him off. He is excited, when he carefully turns to Irellea. 'Please, meet my lovely wife, Drusilla. My fierce one, this is my younger brother, Daeron.'

Drusilla quickly jumps over through a few steps, arms widely open as she practically laughs:

'Daeron, oh, my little boy!'

And if the common surprise between others couldn't be worse, Daeron only catches her, carefully raising above the ground:

'Illa, my dear friend!'

Since when?

He doesn't remember Daeron, writing him about Irellea—though, he guesses Daeron was always the secretive one, preferring to listen rather than talking—and Irellea, too, never mentioned him. They couldn't meet earlier, because Daeron was already sent away when Tyrells arrived here as kids.

'You two know each other?' Alicent sounds surprised.

'Mother, I spent my best years in the Highgardens,' Daeron reminds, putting Irellea back, though still holding her hands in his. 'How can I not know the Queen of its place?'

'Oh, as if we remember anything about you, sweetheart.' As soon as these words leave Aegon's mouth, Alicent hits him. 'Ouch! What?! Don't pretend that it was just me! You sometimes told people that you have three kids.'

'I think she excluded you, Aegon,' Helaena smiles at him, patting his shoulder. 'Don't be sad, that is fine.'

'Hela!'

His family starts their usual traditions again—which includes meaningless fights, Aegon's whining and Helaena's little evil laugh—and Aemond can only stare at his brother, speaking with Irellea. He tries to hear what they are discussing so quietly, but the snippets of it sounds absolutely incoherent.

Wait.

...Hadn't Irellea mentioned before about the friend that she found after leaving the seclusion? The one with whom she created the non-existent language, and the one she wrote so often? And Daeron called her Illa, something that both can be the short name for both, Drusilla and Irellea...

Could it be—

•

Rhaenyra learns to like her new life.

The first weeks of it were... Alarming ones. Daemon tried his best to keep her at peace, while she barely slept, and carefully checked their food, still waiting for something to happen. But it didn't. Even Drusilla, despite dropping the act, seemed fine to be around.

And when Rhaenyra gave birth to Visenya—the hardest one in her life, truly—it was Drusilla and Alicent, who hold both of her hands. She asked for Daemon—she doesn't know why she instinctively continues to do that, knowing that he is too hurt from all women in his life that died in labour, never being able to come near—but received support from her once friend and the new Queen.

"Hatred is nothing, when women understand each other," Drusilla said to her after, hypnotising the newborn with her strange look. "Backstabbing is something I despise. Don't wait it for me, it sounds almost as an insult."

After all, Drusilla really didn't anything bad towards her family, Rhaenyra realised.

And everything went smoother.

It is Daeron, who Rhaenyra is glad to meet, though, after all these events.

Little did others knew, but... Daeron might be her favourite sibling out of all. She remembers how he wrote her down a many years ago, saying that he disagrees with his own family, ready to help her. She didn't believe it at first, but soon enough, Daeron started to offer her information that none of her spies in the capital could.

So, despite arguments being over, she is happy at first to welcome him back.

But noticing Daeron on Drusilla's side, talking with each other like old friends, confuses Rhaenyra.

'They knew each other, it appears,' Alicent informs her from the opposite side of the table. 'How very nice. My remarkable son and my, no less, remarkable daughter-in-law.'

Highgardens.

Right.

Rhaenyra wonders if she is being paranoid if she thinks that, maybe, most of Drusilla's knowledge about her comes from him? Could it be that Daeron played not only with her, but also—

She watches as Aemond gazes at his wife and brother.

It is jealousy, she thinks.

But then, also... What if Daeron played with Greens and Black in order to help Drusilla?

Is she imagining things? She does if often nowadays, but...

'Are you overthinking again, love?' Daemon asks, finding her hand playing with rings under the table. 'Maester told you to think less about worrying things, remember?'

She wants to ask him about that, but in the end stops herself.

What is the point?

Everything had been done, and it is not like they are living a bad life. Family dinners again, Lucerys, somehow, finding Aegon to be a funny company, Helaena loving to spend her time with Baela... Her Aegon and Viserys even like lessons with Drusilla as she learns them about politics in playing manner.

That is fine.

Past is past.

Whatever happened... Well, father must be at peace after all this.

'Hm-m, I have news to share with all of you,' Drusilla says, fork clinking at the cup, turning attention on herself. 'I kept it for a while, but decided to share it with Daeron's coming. So, everyone would be here.'

'Oh,' Aegon rubs hands in anticipation. 'What is it today, Silla? Who died?'

'Aegon,' everyone sighs at the same time.

'Sadly, no one,' Drusilla answers with rolling her eyes. 'Quite opposite. Someone is going to be birth. I am pregnant.'

For a few seconds there is a long silence, until Alicent stands up, starting to clap vigorously.

'Congratulations! Oh, my sweet child!'

For some reason, Rhaenyra finds hard time to imagine Drusilla or even Aemond as parents. Not like she could imagine herself being a mother long time ago, but then again... She makes sure to smile at her, offering hew own congratulations. She is right. Women should support women.

...If all these years back, Rhaenyra would choose to save Alicent, would it be different?

'Congratulations with losing your freedom, Silla. A-and, who is going to be the best uncle?' Aegon hums.

'Daeron,' Drusilla and Aemond huff at the same time, both surprised at each other's response.

With that, Aemond shuts down completely. He doesn't say anything through the whole dinner, despite his usual lovesick attitude. Rhaenyra almost stands up to give him a smack: what kind of silence it is? It is your children to raise!

Gods, even Otto—she can't help but wonder what charms Drusilla had on him, so after such a degradation he accepts her as the part of his family—hisses at him quietly after the dinner as Drusilla leaves in Helaena's company.

'My conversations with my wife are private,' Aemond replies eventually. 'She knows that.'

'Try to smile, at least for the courtesy,' Aegon punches him under the table.

Rhaenyra makes a sip.

'Hate to say that, but I agree with him.'

'Aw-w, sister Rhae...'

Daemon hisses.

'Don't you call her that.'

Alicent sighs.

Daeron looks like he wants to leave from this house as soon as it is possible.

After all, some things don't change.

•

When Drusilla realised her own pregnancy, she... Panicked. She sent two letters at the same time, one to Daeron, and the second one to Augustus, waiting for... Something.

She knew that she will get pregnant soon, after all, she didn't drink the Moon Tea anymore, but...

But it was only when Kasia officially said that, when Drusilla got the gravity of this situation.

Mother.

She is a mother to be.

Who the fuck even allowed that? Her, to be a mom? She is hateful, annoying and tiring. She is not sure what love is without obsession. And true, unconditional love is hard. Drusilla doesn't exactly know how to love so kindly. Not when even Aemond appears to be a fool in her eyes, time to time.

Augustus wrote her back with two sentences.

«If it is Targaryen kid, still advising to fucking kill it. If you are leaving it, I will be the good uncle, though. Take care.»

And Daeron simply congratulated her, offering some tips he learned, when taking medical courses.

Stupid donkeys.

Kasia had been the great help, surprisingly. It was she, who advised her to wait a little bit before announcing anything, so she could decide what to do. It was also her that gave her different possibly outcomes to look up in. After many hours of thinking, again and again, she decided to have this kid.

At least, until—

'So, Daeron?'

Aemond's voice comes out from behind so suddenly that Drusilla almost flinches.

'Huh?'

This asshole could at least pretend to smile on the dinner, and now he returns with what? With this?!

'Your friend.'

'Yes, is that bothering you?'

'So when he told us about getting in Rhaenyra's way to give us information, he simply—'

'Fooled both. Don't be mad, though, it was you on the throne that made him agree to my deal.'

She likes to act that she and Daeron back then were quite serious and over calculating, when in fact, their alliance happened because he was thirteen, and she made a mistake. They were young, inexperienced and pretentious. Somehow, it worked out nicely.

'I see how he looks at you,' Aemond hums. 'I know this look. Because we share this tenderness towards you with him.'

He steps closer, now standing in front of her as she sits down on their bed, hands gripping the fabric of her dress.

'You are at it again?'

'I wonder have you ever was around him, pretending that it is me?'

'No,' Drusilla answers without hesitation.

No, because Daeron was always much tender and gentle soul than him. Because where Aemond were taught to love fiercely, obsessively, Daeron learned to love carefully as a keeper.

Daeron is a nice boy.

Even if Drusilla wanted, she couldn't have him. Not when she and Aemond are cut from the same cloth.

'No, but maybe I started to do so, when everyone but my husband gave some reaction to us having a kid,' she adds irritatingly, folding arms on her chest. 'Daeron is too young, but Daemon seems like a fun man to have kids with, you know?'

Aemond sighs.

'You are mad.'

'Thank you for noticing that. Having sharp eyes, hm?'

Aemond sighs, dropping to his knees, hugging her legs. Drusilla gives up quite easily; she is always had been too weak for man, being so pathetic. Especially, if it is Aemond. With this vulnerable look of his, oh...

'Do you think I will be a good father?'

...They are really too alike.

'Do you think they will not be scared of me? That I will know how to love them? Treat them right? That I will not be like my father? Or even worse, like Otto? Do you think I know how to love such gentle creatures? Because... I don't think so.'

Drusilla closes her eyes.

She wants to tell him something important, but... But if she does, she will ruin the chance for Aemond to understand what a great father he will be.

'Funny enough, how you address all these questions solely to yourself. Aemond, both of us are ruined.'

She knows he wants to protest, he never considers her the ruined one, but the truth is too obvious today.

'Aemond, a kid who had seen what an awful parent is, will not become like this.'

'Mother, knowing her own father, became like this for Aegon.'

This response surprises Drusilla. Aemond is never the one to notice his mother mistakes, but... It seems, him and Aegon trying to bond, makes him validate his brother's feelings more.

'It is different. She was forced into having kids. And are you?'

'...No. I wouldn't dream of anything better.'

Drusilla softens unwillingly.

'Then, it will be fine. We will compliment each other well. You will learn me how to love so sincerely, and I will learn you how not to repeat mistakes of your parents. Deal?'

Aemond raises his head.

'Deal.'

His eye is locked on her belly.

'Hello, kid.' He mutters.

Drusilla is suddenly so stunned by this view that she can't even say that the gestational age is too little, there is no kid yet, only tiny something.

'You have the best mother in the world.'

She rolls her eyes.

'Don't mind him. Your father is a fool.'

'Only for her.'

Drusilla smiles.

She tries to forget the prophecy that Helaena offered his while they returned here.

Aemond doesn't need to know. Everything will work out for the best.

"This kids... Your kids will bring death and ruination."

"How sweet of them. Take the best from their mommy already."

"How much pain I see for you and others. Not many will survive. And you will be the first to fall, Drusilla."

She broke her prophecies before.

She can do that again.

Right?

A/N: Next chapter is going to be about flashbacks! Including Daemon ones and Daeron's. Of course, Augustus as well :) I can't wait to write all of their interactions from the very beginning, before Aemond had returned in Drusilla's life. And, oh, you had no idea how dearly I love Drusilla & Daeron...