A son for a son.
The Blacks retaliated before actual dragon battles began.
Rhaenyra had wept night and day for her son and daughter, Baelon and Baela. Daemon told her her children would be avenged, and they were.
Two men came in the black of night: Blood, thick as a bull, axe scarred across his cheek; Cheese, rat-faced and quick, a former gold cloak who knew every rat-run beneath the Red Keep.
The Rogue Prince paid them well, the target, the Prince Regent, Aemond One-eye.
Instead, Blood and Cheese found Queen Helaena's chambers, her babes asleep.
SLASH! SHRUM!
The Queen's scream cracked the castle awake as her son's blood splattered on her chamber's walls.
The assailants left with Jaehaerys's head, leaving her wailing in grief.
Dawn saw the city howl. The brutality of the night stuck to the air forever. Bells were rang until they split, and the smallfolk rioted against the depravity.
Aemond, stood atop the battlements, swearing every Black would choke on their own blood soon enough.
The death of his nephew hurt him because, in truth, all Haelena's children were his.
Aegon had been a drunken fool, stumbling from brothel to brothel, caring nothing for the wife forced upon him. Helaena loved Aemond instead because he was stronger, the brother who saw her dreams and did not mock them.
Aemond found her in the royal apartments, curled on the floor, next to a bed. A small cloak was clutched to her chest, her sobs silent, and her eyes hollow.
Aemond closed the distance to the grieving mother, knelt beside her, and gripped her shoulders.
"This is Rhaenyra's work," he growled. "Her dogs, sent by Daemon's hand. They took our son to break us. We may not have their numbers, dear sister, but we have each other. You must ready yourself. Dreamfyre will fly to war."
Helaena trembled with tears falling freely. "He was so small…" she whimpered.
"Grieve," her brother urged, lifting her chin. "But turn it to hate. Soon, you'll burn them all for him."
~~~~~
In weeks time, the Greens and Blacks roamed the continent to gather support from other Houses against the other.
Oldtown swore first of course, the Citadel's maesters, the Starry Sept's thunder.
House Lannister of Casterly Rock swore fealty to the Green's cause too, following the decision of their Lord Tyland at court. Gulltown and the Vale's lesser houses also bent knee to the Faith Militant's promise of "purity" at the Crown.
While the Reach split against the two factions, Storm's End remained indecisive with their support.
During his conquest of Harrenhal, Daemon ordered Borros he proclaim Rhaenyra as the one true queen, and her sons as heir.
"Time is of the essence," he said. "You'll do well to remember our House's words."
Daemon knew he and Rhaenyra were lacking banners. After his impulsive threat to Lord Borros, he feared the Baratheons would turn against them at the end.
Only the North and the Vale were their true powerhouses with an army they could gather in this conflict.
Numbers were on the Greens' side because the realm wanted an end to the deviant Targaryens of Rhaenyra and Daemon's line. But the Blacks weren't backing down anytime soon because they knew they had more dragons.
In Driftmark, the Velaryons were fighting another battle.
Daena Targaryen, nine years Rhaenyra's junior, had never been strong. Paler than moonlight on snow, her hair was pure white with no hint of gold, and her eyes were the faintest violet. Daena looked carved from Valyrian glass.
She was a special child who had regular dreams of the civilisation of Old Valyria at its peak, but never the Doom.
Her pregnancy had been very cruel, giving her swollen joints, bleeding gums, and a belly so grotesque.
The birthing chamber echoed with her cries as her labor came very early. Maids attended to her while Rhaenys stood at the foot of the bed, watching as her daughter-in-law writhed in the same chamber where she was delivered of Laenor.
Laenor himself was in the chambers too, knelt beside Daena and his eyes, fallen with fear that she might not survive.
Outside the door, Maegon and Laena were waiting, seemingly playing with each other despite Daena's wails. Rhaenys had instructed them to know each other, to find familiarity and something close to affection.
After Viserys death, Laena was unwed and still barren. If she married her uncle, Maegon, these problems will be solved.
Rhaenys was smart. After a week at Rhaenyra's court, she was sure that Rhaenyra would order her daughter to wed soon. The Blacks were in enough chaos, and the Dragon Queen wanted orderliness and legitimacy in every way.
Furthermore, Rhaenyra had remembered Maegon. She referred to him as "my other brother". It won't take long, she'd like to have him in court and also more dragon line from him and Laena.
Back within the chamber, Daena's labor worsened to an intolerable degree.
Her blood soaked the sheets and the floor, her legs wide open and trembling while the maids pressed against her hips and stuffed her mouth with a wet cloth.
Rhaenys observed with a stern sadness, knowing the limits of her power. This was the third horrible labor in Driftmark, she feared it might not be the last.
"Push, my lady! The babe's here!"
With tears running down her cheeks, Daena sobbed three times before engaging her waist region, exerting the last strength she had.
A torrent of blood flushed out with the child.
"Oh! Thank the gods!"
The child didn't cry because the child wasn't human.
The midwife who was grateful quickly became silent, holding up the creature and looking at Rhaenys, who stared neutrally.
Rhaenys could recognise that thing every time. She had birthed two of them in this same chamber.
Rhaenys thought it was because of her age and the fact that they were Maegon's seed, she gave birth to dragonspawns.
Conceiving after peak fertility and incest unions risked monstrous births much higher, but Daena and Laenor had different parentage, and Daena was still a young maiden. So, Rhaenys didn't understand why.
The girl was half-conscious, her legs splayed across the bed, and between her thighs was the thing.
It was not fully human, nor fully dragon, but a fusion of both. It had black slick scales but slick with Daena's insides, making it wings look like leather.
No eyes, no face, but the creature had claws curved like scythes.
The chamber was silent except for Daena's small sighs of pain and relief at the same time. Laenor was the only one dumbfounded, while the rest of the women were only saddened this was the outcome.
~"Doom"
Something spoke in High Valyrian.
The midwives who was clutching Daena's child screamed in shock as the thing twisted erratically in her hands. Writhing, the creature unfolded from a ball and lunged at the midwife.
She shrieked as fangs sunk into her throat, blood spraying the canopy.
"AAHHHHHHH!" the second maid yelled in stark fear upon the gory death.
The creature silenced her by raking its claws across her belly, spilling her guts onto the floor, and feeding on her collapsed body.
"By the gods!" Laenor whispered as the chamber turned upside with the presence of the intruder.
Reaching for protection, his sword, the dragonspawn turned around and leapt on him with a short flight from its wings.
"Laenor, my son!" Rhaenys panicked at the opposite corner of the chamber as Daena's child ripped his gorget and buried its mouth in his neck, drawing a dying groan from him.
A weak Daena watched her husband cannibalized by the same thing that left her womb.
Blood spattered the chamber walls, the room a tableau of terror as the heir to Driftmark fell to his knees with a fountain of blood pouring from his neck.
Upon hearing the commotion in the chamber, Maegon crashed inside with his sword. What greeted him was nothing he could ever imagine.
The floors were soaked with blood, the walls dripping, the cries of the dying echoing. Maegon saw his young cousin naked and pale on the bed, whimpering softly, and clinging to life even with the horror around her.
Quickly, the prince lunged at the abomination that was feeding on his nephew.
But it was unbelievably fast for something that hadn't lived a day.
The dragonspawn leapt onto the open window with ease, and before it could be struck by the sword, it vaulted out into the night, vanishing into the mist and cliffs of Driftmark.
In the aftermath, the room was a nightmare that Maegon couldn't look at.
Laenor, mortally wounded, lay on the floor, his life seeping from him even as Daena's shaking fingers tried to touch his pale face. She wanted to apologize for mothering such a thing.
With his heart heavy, Maegon's eyes gravely met his sister's.