We Bleed Silver(GOT/ASOIAF Fanfic)

A sharp screech echoed across the mountains and fields as the blood-red dragon descended from the skies. Its serpent-like neck twisted mid-air, the long, sinuous body circling Dragon's Nest Keep once before gracefully landing on the edge of the fortress's third tier of walls.

Bloodwyrm Caraxes, the dragon of Prince Daemon Targaryen. The beast, resembling an enormous serpent, settled on the obsidian walls, lowering its massive frame. From its back, Prince Daemon, clad in travel-worn black attire, leapt down with practiced ease.

Awaiting him in the courtyard was Vansen Kaon, the chief steward of House Vaelarys. The tall, elderly man carried Valyrian features: piercing blue eyes, a straight posture, and a meticulously trimmed silver beard reaching his chest. Vansen had remained in the rear to oversee the family's extensive construction projects.

Daemon studied the older man briefly before breaking into a smile. "I am Daemon Targaryen."

"I know who you are, my prince," Vansen replied, stepping aside to allow him passage. "My lord is waiting for you in the hall. They were just finishing their meal and could not properly receive you."

Daemon waved dismissively. "No need for formalities among family. Is there food left? I've flown directly from Dragonstone, and both I and my dragon are famished."

"Provisions have already been arranged, my prince," Vansen assured him. "The Silverblood Guards will feed your dragon shortly."

Daemon nodded in satisfaction and followed Vansen into the Silverblood Tower. Servants quickly cleared away the remnants of the boys' meal, replacing the table with fresh dishes.

"Father." Jacaerys rose to greet Daemon, who responded with a warm smile before his gaze fell upon Draezell, seated upon the Dragonstone Throne.

The imposing chair, entirely crafted from dragonfire-scorched obsidian, immediately caught Daemon's attention. Its back depicted a mighty dragon rising from a shattered moon, soaring toward a city brimming with countless towers. The armrests were shaped like crouching dragons, exuding an air of authority and grandeur.

"Greetings, cousin," Draezell said with a respectful nod, addressing Daemon formally. Daemon returned the gesture with a slight bow. "Thank you for caring for Jace and Luke."

"It's my duty," Draezell said, gesturing toward the table. "Please, eat while we talk. I doubt your visit is solely for Jace and Luke's sake."

Daemon carved a piece of lamb chop, chewing it thoroughly before speaking. "I've come on behalf of the crown."

Draezell placed the long royal letter on the table before Daemon. "I've already read the message. To be honest, Valar and I are only sixteen."

"And yet, I can hardly see you as mere sixteen-year-olds. Your courage, wisdom, and capabilities put us all to shame," Daemon said bluntly. "The realm, however, fears that disordered marriages might destabilize the current harmony. That is why I've come personally."

"By age, you are my elder," Draezell remarked, shifting to sit beside Daemon.

Recognizing the weight of their conversation, Jacaerys discreetly slipped out of the room with Valar, the latter eager to avoid such political headaches. "Brother can handle everything."

"I should listen to your opinion," Draezell said, fully unfolding the letter. It was a complex document, with the royal family succinctly describing the general traits of each candidate. Among them were girls from the Riverlands and the Vale, though their numbers were significantly fewer than other regions. The most notable name on the list was Alysanne of House Blackwood, a nine-year-old girl.

"If the lady of the Vale, Lady Jeyne, were younger, they might have added her to the list," Daemon remarked with a smirk as he scanned the document. "The Vale, hmm." He dipped a piece of bread into the sauce, as if tempted to blot out all the Crownland names on the list, but ultimately just ate the bread instead, tracing his finger across the names of the Crownland girls.

"The Crownland nobles' daughters are mostly filler. If you don't want to make a rash decision, there's no need to consider them. The only notable exception would be House Velaryon, but they have no eligible daughters. The Celtigar, however, does have a suitable girl, though the family itself is quite weak."

Daemon looked at Draezell, who was deep in thought. "As descendants of Valyrian Dragonlords, we naturally prioritize Valyrian bloodlines in marriage. That's what makes the Celtigar family appealing."

If I wanted to marry a Valyrian, I have plenty of options among those I've brought with me, Draezell thought. He understood all too well that his and Valar's marriages were not merely personal matters but also complex issues tied to their full integration into Westerosi society.

"Beyond that, speaking impartially, Houses Lannister, Baratheon, Manderly, Florent, Rowan, and Tarly all make strong candidates for alliances."

Daemon lowered his voice. "But personally, I would recommend the Celtigar, Manderly, and Tarly families."

Draezell tilted his head, studying Daemon. He knew Daemon was right. Publicly, alliances with these great houses would be mutually beneficial for the Iron Throne. Privately, however, Lannisters and Baratheons posed potential complications. The Lannisters were always ambiguous when it came to succession issues, and Tyland Lannister's prolonged presence in key positions was concerning. As for the Baratheons, while the old lord valued his oaths, only the Seven knew how much longer he would live. A marriage with the Baratheons could drag the entire Stormlands into conflicts with Dorne, disrupting the realm's fragile stability.

The Manderlys, though far to the north, were wealthy and powerful. They controlled White Harbor, a hub of maritime trade connecting the South and Essos. Draezell recalled that his family's goods had been sold in White Harbor. The Manderlys also had Valyrian blood, tracing back to Garth Greenhand. They were once great lords of the Reach before being driven out by rival houses, eventually finding refuge with the Kings of Winter. To this day, they remained the Stark family's most loyal and prosperous bannermen.

The Tarlys, on the other hand, were critical to consolidating Draezell's hold over the Marches. Following the Tarlys' loyalty pledge, House Selmy was already reconsidering its stance, and other eastern marcher houses were still observing. A marriage alliance with the Tarlys would be a strategic move to expand Draezell's influence.

"Of course, a dragonlord's marriage cannot be so simple," Daemon said, pulling a royal decree from his coat. It bore the seal of Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen, heir to the kingdom and ruler of Dragonstone.

"This is a royal warrant from the princess," Daemon explained. "With it, you are granted entry to any castle in the realm without requiring additional formalities."

"This is the privilege of a royal family members."

"And you are a royal family member too," Daemon said. "Don't worry. Those lords would be thrilled for you and Valar to ride your dragons to their lands. You can see the girls in person and also strengthen relationships with the kingdom's nobles."

"Please extend my gratitude to Princess Rhaenyra, Cousin Daemon."

Daemon waved his hand dismissively. "We should all thank you for looking after Jace and Luke, as well as your contributions to the kingdom. When Aegon and Viserys are a little older, I'll send them to serve you too."

Draezell responded with a silent smile.

---

Meanwhile, at the Dragon Crystal Tower.

This crystalline structure housed the close retainers of House Vaelarys. The flat grounds in front of the tower also served as the training area where everyone practiced their combat skills.

Lucerys clutched his wooden sword nervously. He stood surrounded by a group of boys, led by Aslan Rondell, a silver-haired, purple-eyed youth, and Lynn Valtaken.

"Big chipmunk, I told you I wasn't lying," Rey said, grinning as he placed a reassuring hand on Luke's shoulder. "Everyone's here. Beat them in a fight, and they'll respect you. They'll treat you like a true brother."

As Valar and Jacaerys entered the scene, they caught this moment.

"What is this..." Jacaerys frowned at the sight of the group, while Valar's eyes lit up as he whispered, "It's our tradition. My brother's guards prove their strength through sparring matches. The more opponents you defeat, the higher your standing among us."

"Prince Valar, don't tease us," quipped Adams Lawkeeper, his face ever cheerful. "Back then, you chased us all around."

Valar scratched his head and whispered to Jacaerys, "To earn their respect, you've got to face them head-on. Go on; don't let Luke fight alone."

With that, he gave Jacaerys a firm shove into the circle.

Aslan raised his wooden sword, his gaze cool and unwavering as he looked at the two dark-haired princes.

"Prove your strength to me," he said, lifting his blade. "Let's see what the black-haired chipmunks can do."