We Bleed Silver(GOT/ASOIAF Fanfic)

The king's ship slowly sailed into Dragonstone's harbor. The Devourer's corpse was still smoldering on the nearby beach, surrounded by four massive dragons. Silverwing and the Red Queen angrily tore at its flesh, while Syrax and Vermithor relaxed nearby, taking a break.

Sunfyre cautiously attempted to approach, but after seeing that the Red Queen and Silverwing were focused on avenging the Devourer's body and that Syrax and Vermithor had ignored it, Sunfyre finally landed on a pile of rocks beside the dragon group, comfortably basking in the sun.

"Haha, the plague of Dragonstone has finally been dealt with. Well done," King Viserys laughed and briefly embraced Daemon, before turning to look at Draezell and Valar, who were standing together nearby. "Cousin, thank you for your contribution to the kingdom. Ahem."

Draezell smiled and bowed to the king. "The Dragonlord families should always help each other. After all, the bloodlines capable of riding dragons are now only left to our two Houses."

The king smiled politely, though Draezell noticed that the middle-aged king had become somewhat overweight. His fingers had been shortened, reportedly due to an injury from the Iron Throne's blades that had not been treated properly and had to be amputated.

However, the king didn't seem bothered by such things. Queen Alicent, supported by her handmaidens, slowly descended from the ship, with pregnant Helaena Targaryen walking behind her. Rhaenyra had arranged for a special wheeled sedan chair for them, equipped with padding to reduce vibration. Though Rhaenyra had a poor relationship with Alicent and her sons, she felt little ill will toward Helaena, especially since she was with child.

A few members of the king's small council had also arrived. Commander of the Kingsguard Ser Criston Cole stood expressionless beside the king, while Lord Tyland Lannister, the Master of Ships, nervously watched the dragons on the beach. Count Lyman Beesbury, the Master of Coin, was also present.

In the harbor, there was another large ship—a crab boat, flying a white flag adorned with clusters of crabs.

Upon seeing this ship, Draezell knew immediately where one of the girls chosen for Valar had come from. House Celtigar of Craw Isle, an ancient Valyrian house, not known for being dragonriders but having accumulated considerable wealth through maritime trade. It was said that the Celtigar owned a Valyrian steel axe and a horn capable of summoning sea monsters. Their cellars were filled with rubies, gold, and wine. Though they couldn't compare to the Velaryons or the wealthier great houses, they still managed to squeeze into the bottom ranks of noble society.

"Where's Aegon?" King Viserys glanced around, counting the number of people disembarking, only to notice someone missing. Queen Alicent immediately grew angry and grabbed a nearby servant. "Where's Aegon?"

The servant, somewhat nervous, stammered, "The prince... he disappeared after releasing Sunfyre. I... I haven't seen him since."

"Then hurry and find him!" Alicent, struggling to resist the urge to slap the servant, shoved him forcefully. The servant stumbled and hurriedly ran towards the interior of the island.

Aemond grabbed the servant by the arm and whispered fiercely in his ear, "Don't let anyone find Aegon in a tavern or a whore's bed, or I'll feed you to Vhagar."

"Yes, yes, my lord."

Daemon couldn't help but laugh, but Rhaenys remained calm, watching the scene without saying a word.

"My dear, let's head to the castle," Alicent said, motioning for her maidservants to help Helaena as she draped her arm around her husband's. "Helaena is still pregnant and should rest more; the ship journey must have been difficult for her. I've already sent people to find Aegon. He will surely make it to the feast."

"Alright," Viserys nodded. "My dear daughter will certainly arrange the feast well."

"Brother, I can't help but worry," Valar said, looking at the royal family boarding the sedan chair.

"Worry about what? Tell me," Draezell said, wrapping an arm around his younger brother's shoulder. Although Draezell was shorter, his brother always instinctively bent slightly when he did this, allowing him to ruffle his hair.

"I just feel like there's something off about the royal atmosphere. Brother, is the succession issue really that hard to resolve?"

Draezell, still holding his brother, walked behind Rhaenys and Daemon toward the castle. The two in front pretended not to hear, but both had their ears perked up, curious about the Dragonlord's take on the succession matter.

"I too faced challenges with succession—Our mother's illegitimate son, and the branch families that separated from ours. Do you remember how I dealt with it?" Draezell asked, rhetorically.

"Brother, that's not what I'd call a challenge. No one could challenge your right to inherit," Valar realized he had fallen into his brother's verbal trap and couldn't help but hit him lightly. "That was a battle for property. The bastard was cut down by Yamor with a single axe, and those relatives either didn't even make it through the door or ended up in the mines."

"So?" Draezell continued, "Do you see how I resolved it?"

"Absolute violence and loyalty, recognizing your family and vassals and your indisputable position in the succession line," Valar muttered. Though Draezell was young, he already controlled the family's army and wealth, which was why he firmly secured his place as heir. This, in turn, was due to their father having deeply involved Draezell in family affairs from a young age, and nearly everyone acknowledged his ability.

Ahead, Daemon and Rhaenys exchanged a glance and sighed. They understood this well—whether it was Daemon or Rhaenyra, whose claim to the throne was rejected at the Great Council of 101, neither of them met these conditions. And unfortunately for Rhaenyra, her distance from the politics of King's Landing also meant she did not fulfill these conditions.

Rhaenyra had prepared a lavish feast for her father. Upon confirmation that the wild dragon had been slain, she immediately returned to the castle, directing the cooks and servants to set up the dishes they had already prepared, awaiting the king's arrival.

"King Viserys I of the Andals, the First Men, and the Rhoynar, Protector of the Realm, Ruler of the Seven Kingdoms, and Head of Housr Targaryen, along with his wife, Queen Alicent Hightower, and his children, Prince Aegon Targaryen, Prince Aemond Targaryen, and Princess Helaena Targaryen, arrive."

Ser Criston Cole's voice echoed through the main hall of Dragonstone. The king, arm in arm with the queen, and Aemond dragging Aegon by his muddy cloak—Aegon had been caught by a servant before even reaching the tavern and was dragged back by Criston—followed Helaena, who was supported by her handmaidens, to their seats.

King Viserys smiled at his daughter before tapping his fork on the table a few times. "Everyone, we have a few more esteemed guests." He nodded toward Draezell, signaling that he might want to expect something special.

"Lord Bartimos of Craw Isle, and his eldest son, Ser Clement, nephew Arthor, and his youngest daughter, Lady Leila Celigar."

It was one of the servants from Dragonstone who was announcing the names this time.

Lord Bartimos was an elderly man, still mentally sharp, wearing a red-and-white silk robe. His silver hair had long since turned gray due to the ravages of time. His eldest son was a stoic and cold figure, while his nephew was a handsome and charming young man.

Leila Celtigar was a 15-year-old girl, with long silver-blonde hair that reached her waist. It was smooth and straight, and though the girl had yet to fully mature, her face already bore the striking beauty of the Valyrians. Her deep blue eyes were as clear as a still lake.

Viserys smiled as he seated the girl next to Valar. He then raised his glass. "To our dragonriders, who protect the kingdom's greatest treasures."

Everyone raised their glasses in response to the king's toast.

Aegon even cheered as if he were one of those who had participated in slaying dragons.

The banquet proceeded smoothly. Aemond accepted toasts from Jacaerys and Lucerys, though it was obvious to anyone with a keen eye that it was all surface politeness. Queen Alicent also danced with Princess Rhaenyra in the midst of the hall.

Of course, the banquet would have been even better if it weren't for Daemon's incessant laughter.

Assor, curious, asked the princes about the war in Dorne, and under Clément's warning gaze, he found his way to Draezell's side, urging him to tell tales of the wars between the East and Dorne.

The banquet reached its peak when Valar awkwardly danced with Leila.

"Prince, I understand my responsibility," the young girl whispered to the stiff Valar. "If you are willing to marry me, I will bear you many, many children."

Valar twisted his arm like a puppet. He shot a glance at his brother, silently begging for rescue, only to find that Draezell was already caught up in conversation with Arthor.

He had never been in such a situation before.

"Cousin, I have a marriage proposal I'd like to confirm with you," King Viserys said with a smile as he watched the prince and the girl dance. "My daughter Helaena is about to give birth, and the maester predicts it will likely be twins. If one of them is a girl, I hope she will be betrothed to Rey."

Before the words were even finished, Alicent's face immediately turned pale.

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Attention: From now on, summerhall will be called Summerfield.

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