Baelon stood outside his mother's chambers, a heavy feeling weighing on his heart. Determined to offer her comfort and support, he approached the door, only to find it locked.

"Mother," Baelon called out softly, his voice filled with concern. "It's Baelon. Please, let me in."

Silence greeted him, and Baelon's worry deepened. He turned to Ser Criston, who stood nearby, his face etched with worry.

"Ser Criston, do you have the key?" Baelon inquired, his voice tinged with urgency. Ser Criston nodded solemnly and handed Baelon the key to his mother's chambers. With a deep breath, Baelon inserted the key into the lock and turned it, the sound of the latch clicking open echoing through the hallway.

Pushing the door open, Baelon entered the room, only to be greeted by a sight that broke his heart. The room was shrouded in darkness, the heavy curtains blocking out any trace of sunlight. The air felt heavy with sadness and despair.

"Baelon, my son," Alicent's voice whispered, barely audible. She sat in a chair near the window, her figure hunched, and her eyes empty of their usual sparkle.

Baelon approached his mother slowly, his heart aching at her desolate state. Without a word, he moved to the windows, pulling back the curtains to let in the warm sunlight. As the room filled with light, it cast a gentle glow upon Alicent's face.

Taking a deep breath, Baelon began tidying the room, his movements careful and deliberate. He picked up scattered papers and books, straightened the disheveled furniture, and lit candles to chase away the shadows. Neither Baelon nor Alicent spoke as he worked, each lost in their thoughts and emotions. Baelon knew that no words could fully express the pain and turmoil they both felt, but he hoped that his presence and actions would offer some solace to his mother.

Once the room was restored to a semblance of order, Baelon approached Alicent, his voice filled with tenderness.

"Mother, I am here for you," he whispered, his hand gently resting on her shoulder. "Rhaegar, Moira and Visenya are here for you. I know these are trying times, but we will face them together. You are not alone."

Alicent's eyes met Baelon's, and for a brief moment, a flicker of recognition and gratitude passed through her gaze. It was a small glimmer of hope amidst the darkness that had consumed her.

As Baelon held his mother tightly, she suddenly broke down into gut-wrenching sobs, her body trembling with the weight of her sorrow. Baelon's own eyes welled up with tears, his heart aching for the pain his mother had endured.

"M-Mother," Baelon stammered, his voice choked with emotion. "I'm so sorry..."

Through her tears, Alicent managed to compose herself enough to speak, her voice filled with a mixture of anguish and longing. "Baelon, I... I was going to tell your father... I'm pregnant."

Baelon's heart skipped a beat, the news both overwhelming and bittersweet. He had hoped for a moment of joy amidst the darkness, but the weight of the revelation only added to the complexity of their situation.

Gently wiping away his own tears, Baelon held Alicent even tighter, his arms providing a comforting embrace. "Mother, you are carrying new life within you," he whispered, his voice filled with tenderness.

Feeling the need for support, Baelon called Ser Criston into the room. "Ser Criston, please inform the kitchens to prepare a small meal for my mother," he commanded, his voice steady despite the turmoil within.

Ser Criston nodded, understanding the urgency and importance of the situation. He swiftly left the room to carry out Baelon's orders.

Once they were alone again, Baelon turned his attention back to Alicent, his eyes filled with determination. "Mother, you must eat," he insisted, his voice gentle but firm. "It's crucial for both your well-being and the health of the babe."

Taking a seat beside her, Baelon helped Alicent into a more comfortable position. He carefully prepared a small plate of nourishing food, guiding her hand with his own as she took each bite. With each morsel, he offered words of encouragement, reminding her of the importance of taking care of herself and her unborn child.

"You are strong, Mother," Baelon whispered, his voice filled with unwavering support.

As Alicent ate, her sobs began to subside, replaced by a glimmer of hope in her eyes. Baelon knew that the road ahead would still be challenging, but with love, strength, and nourishment, they would face it together.

—————

"What are our numbers, grandfather?" Baelon asked that evening in the Small Council meeting. Baelon sat in the King's seat with his mother to his left and Ser Otto to his right. Baelon had managed to convince his mother to attend the meeting, as she had long been his adviser while Maekar was grooming Aegon to be King.

"Out of the Seven Kingdoms, the Vale, The Iron Islands and Riverlands as well as some minor houses and House Velaryon have sworn fealty to Rhaenyra's claim," Ser Otto informed the King Regent. Baelon shut his eyes and clenched his fists tightly. "In Prince Rhaegar's absence of Dragonstone, Daemon led the City Watch in and captured the fortress for Rhaenyra."

"So not only does she wear the Conqueror's crown, she steals our stronghold too?" Baelon asked to himself under his breath. He unclenched his fists, tapping his hands on the table as he looked around. "What of the Baratheons?"

"The Baratheons have yet to declare their allegiance," Otto replied, his tone reflecting the uncertainty surrounding their stance. "We must remain vigilant and patient. Their decision could tip the scales in our favor."

Baelon's jaw tightened as he absorbed the information. The Baratheons were a powerful and influential house, and their support could prove crucial in this struggle for the throne. He knew that winning their loyalty would require diplomacy and strategic maneuvering.

"We need to strengthen our alliances, gather support, and ensure the stability of the realm," Alicent spoke up, reaching forward to hold her son's hand. "But above all, we must remain united in the face of adversity."

The council members nodded in agreement, their expressions reflecting the gravity of the situation. Baelon knew that they were counting on him to lead them through this tumultuous time.

"We will prevail," Baelon declared with conviction. "For the memory of my brother, for the honor of our house, and for the future of the Seven Kingdoms," Baelon spoke firm, turning towards Grand Maester Orwyle. "Write to Lord Kermit Tully, Lord Dalton Greyjoy and Lady Jayne Arryn," Baelon said, his jaw clenching. "Tell them they have three days to swear fealty to my father, the true King, and if not they will be announced as traitors to the throne and Fire and Blood will rain upon them."

"We will see if the Tully's value "Family, Duty, Honour," after all," Lord Tyland jested, getting a weak smile from the others Lord's while the King Regent and the Hightower's looked at him blankly.

"Regardless of the Tullys' values, we must make it clear that loyalty to the rightful ruler is non-negotiable," Baelon said firmly, his gaze unwavering. "We cannot afford to let any houses waver in their allegiance."

Grand Maester Orwyle nodded and quickly made a note of Baelon's command. The urgency in Baelon's voice was mirrored in the maester's actions, emphasizing the gravity of the situation.

"Furthermore," Baelon continued, his tone growing more determined, "we must also reach out to other potential allies. When my father was marching through Slavers Bay, the Free Cities and other places East, the Magisters and Masters have traditionally given him their gifts in exchange for not sacking their cities and raping their wives. We need to ensure their support in this crucial time, trade between them is essential."

Alicent, sitting beside Baelon, squeezed his hand in support. She understood the weight of the decisions they were making and the delicate balance they needed to maintain.

"Send ravens to every place East of Westeros, even as far as Lys and Qarth," Baelon instructed. "Express our desire for a peaceful resolution and the importance of maintaining stability further outside the realm. Let them know that their loyalty will not go unnoticed or unrewarded."

The council members nodded, understanding the significance of securing alliances with these powerful places.

Baelon leaned back in his seat, his mind racing with thoughts and plans. He knew that the road ahead would be treacherous, but he was determined to navigate it.

"Let it be known," Baelon declared, his voice echoing through the council chamber, "that the dragon will continue to fly, and those who stand against us shall be consumed by fire and blood."

Once the meeting was adjourned, Baelon called upon Rhaegar and Visenya. The two youngest children of the Targaryen family entered the Small Council chambers with confused expressions on their faces.

Baelon took a deep breath, steeling himself for the difficult conversation that was about to unfold. He looked at Rhaegar and Visenya, their confusion evident in their eyes.

"Rhaegar, I have made a decision," Baelon began, his voice filled with regret. "I have called off the marriage between you and Moira."

Rhaegar's face contorted in disbelief. "But Father approved the betrothal, Baelon. How can you do this?"

Baelon sighed, understanding Rhaegar's frustration. "I know it's hard to accept, Rhaegar. But the war with Rhaenyra has changed everything. We need allies, and House Baratheon is one of the most powerful houses in the realm. Grandfather will arrange for you to have an audience with Lord Borros."

Otto, ever the voice of reason, stepped forward. "Lord Borros may be willing to form an alliance with us. And suggesting a match between you and one of his daughters will strengthen that alliance."

Rhaegar's reluctance was palpable, but he knew the gravity of the situation. "Very well," he said, his voice laced with disappointment. "I will meet with Lord Borros and discuss the possibility of a match."

As Rhaegar reluctantly agreed, Baelon turned to Visenya with a heavy heart. "Visenya, I have another task for you," he said, his voice filled with a mixture of concern and determination. "You are to fly on dragonback and meet with the Sealord of Braavos. I suggest proposing a match between his daughter and yourself. It will strengthen our ties with Braavos and bring us much-needed support."

Visenya's anger flared at Baelon's suggestion. She felt betrayed, especially since Baelon was the first person she had confided in about her feelings for Lady Genevieve Tyrell. She clenched her fists, struggling to keep her emotions in check.

"Baelon, how could you?" Visenya's voice trembled with anger and hurt. "You know how I feel about Genevieve, and yet you propose this match as if my heart means nothing to you."

Baelon looked at Visenya, his eyes filled with regret. "Visenya, please understand. This is not an easy decision for me," he pleaded. "But our family's survival is at stake. We must do what is necessary to protect our house."

Visenya's anger began to subside, replaced by a mix of sadness and resignation. She knew Baelon was right, but it didn't make it any easier to accept. "Fine," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "Know that this hurts me deeply."

Baelon nodded, his own heart heavy with the weight of his decisions. "Thank you, Visenya. I know this is difficult for you, but it is for the greater good."

""The greater good"?" Visenya scoffed, her anger slowly returning as she crossed her arms over her chest. Her voice rose, laced with frustration and hurt. "You expect me to sacrifice my own happiness for the sake of alliances, Baelon? Is that all I am to you? A pawn in your game of power?"

Rhaegar, too, voiced his discontent. "This is madness, Baelon! How can you disregard our own desires and emotions so easily?"

Otto, attempting to calm the situation, interjected. "My grandchildren, I understand your frustrations, but Baelon is right. We are at war, and sacrifices must be made for the greater good of our house."

Visenya, her eyes brimming with tears, turned to Otto. "And what about my feelings, grandfather? What about Lady Genevieve? Am I supposed to forget all of that and marry someone else?"

Just as the argument reached its peak, Alicent spoke up. She had been that quiet that neither of her youngest children even remembered she was there. Her presence demanded attention, and her voice carried authority. "That is enough!" she exclaimed, her tone firm yet compassionate. "I understand that this is a difficult situation for all of us, but we must remain focused on what needs to be done."

Visenya's eyes met her mother's, searching for understanding. "But Mother, don't you see? Baelon is asking us to deny our own hearts, our own happiness."

Alicent sighed, her expression filled with both love and concern. "My dear, I understand your pain. But we are in a time of war, and sacrifices must be made. Our family's survival depends on it."

Rhaegar, too, looked to his mother for guidance. "Mother, I don't know if I can go through with this marriage. It feels wrong, like betraying Moira."

Alicent approached Rhaegar, placing a comforting hand on his cheek. "Rhaegar, I know this is not what you envisioned for yourself. But sometimes, duty requires us to set aside personal desires. If this alliance can strengthen our position and protect our family, we must consider it."

Visenya's anger began to wane, replaced by a mix of resignation and sadness. She knew deep down that her mother's words held truth. Their family's survival was at stake, and sacrifices had to be made.

Baelon, watching the exchange, spoke with a heavy heart. "I know this is not what any of us wanted, but we have a duty to our house. We must think of the larger picture, the future of House Targaryen."

The room fell into a heavy silence as the weight of their decisions settled upon them. Visenya and Rhaegar understood that they had no choice but to comply, no matter how painful it may be. Their destinies were intertwined with the fate of their house, and they had to do whatever it took to ensure its survival.