Her children were thrilled.

It was like this when they were little. They'd be overjoyed if a new playmate was brought, no matter if that playmate was really a teenage girl looking to join the Valkyries to escape abuse. Daenerys and Viserys had been so small, they would enjoy the newest recruits as friends rather than guards. Brynhildr had always liked to see it.

First, Viserys was pleased to see Jon Connington regardless of the words exchanged. She imagined Daario had omitted to the two of them that Jon Connington was a misogynist that Brynhildr was seconds away from turning into a eunuch like Varys. All Viserys remembered was seeing Jon at the side of his older brother, a person who Viserys had obviously admired. This added to the sense of a family reunion.

Second, both Viserys and Daenerys were perfectly kind to Aegon. Brynhildr had raised them to be polite, and seemingly Aegon had been as well. Viserys instantly started to tell Aegon what he remembered about Rhaegar, while Daenerys piped up with memories he'd told her about but he'd forgotten to mention. In a way, they were sort of overwhelming Aegon, but the boy didn't seem to mind it.

"He seems to like her," noted Daario, he and Brynhildr watching from the upper balcony. He nodded to how Aegon shyly tilted his head down while Daenerys braided his hair for battle, calling what he had now 'a rat's nest.'

"Perhaps," said Brynhildr, narrowing her eyes.

"You don't like the idea of it at all, do you?"

"You must recall that my culture is not one of incest," noted Brynhildr. "She's his aunt, regardless of the fact they were not reared together. It still confuses me to imagine them being drawn together by their dragon blood."

Daario shrugged. "And yet, you've said it yourself. They were not reared together. They are like you and me meeting, at that rate."

"Except they know they are related. It's still strange to me. It will take some getting used to." She pursed her lips. "What if he hurts her, Daario? What if he makes her fall in love with him only to make himself King Consort? What if he manipulates her into giving him the crown because she'll want to make him happy?"

"Dany is the least likely to be manipulated," noted Daario. "You raised her not to give into anyone's wants unless it is something she firmly believes for herself. Viserys couldn't even get her to give him her treats at dinnertime when they were children. She knows what she wants and she will hold onto that without interference."

"Yes, but, does she know? Viserys only just handed her the crown. He had seemingly been nursing the idea for months, but she never exactly imagined herself in power. I worry about her trusting Aegon."

Daario put a hand on her shoulder. "You worry too much. Let me tell you, I've been here many weeks at a time and I have noticed that you never only said that Viserys would sit the Iron Throne. You always noted it was a possibility for her to take the throne, even though he was the one with the title."

"Well, I said it because one never knows what might happen. She had to prepared, as his heir, to assume the role if something befell him. And, well, despite my discomfort with it, I always considered that they might choose to marry each other. I never wanted to limit her to thinking she wouldn't sit the throne. But the way it occurred was different than expected. Suddenly she has power and she never fully anticipated it."

"Your children are old enough to understand these dynamics as you lay them out. They know not to immediately trust Connington or Aegon." When he saw she wasn't fully believing him, he posed, "Tell Viserys about your worries, if at all. He'll understand them and he'll be on his guard. At any rate, if what we are seeing below is the start of a romance, then Viserys has no reason to be so easily manipulated by Aegon. Except, of course, if Aegon took after Connington."

Brynhildr managed a laugh. "Yes, well, that would certainly make things interesting."

Daario leaned further onto the railing. "How is Oberyn? He missed breakfast."

She sighed to herself. "He left early to tour the market. I think he needs to come to his own bit of acceptance; last night was insufficient to abate him."

"Yes, I heard that." He winked. "It's difficult for him, I know. I hope he'll be alright."

"He will be," she said, mostly to convince herself. "He just needs time."

From below, Viserys shouted up. "Mineri!"

Brynhildr tilted her head down to him. "What is it, my boy?"

"Aegon hasn't ever wet his sword!" Viserys grabbed at the back of Aegon's shoulders, his curly locks now neatly braided down to the base of his neck. "Never killed a man! But he wants to, and I say it's time he does."

Daario and Brynhildr shared a look, the two starting to smile. "Then, I propose a tournament," said Brynhildr for the Valkyries to hear. "In the courtyard, tonight, we will hold randomized fights to first blood. You and Aegon will participate, Viserys. If you prove yourself, Aegon, then I will find you a man to truly wet your sword with."

The Valkyries raised their weapons in a cheer, always finding their tournaments fun. They did them at least once a year to keep each other in-the-know about their improving abilities and to otherwise have an excuse for a test beyond their daily training. At least for Brynhildr, this was a good excuse to assess Connington and Aegon's abilities, to determine how much of a threat they could be.

She declared the tournament to be in honor of Daenerys being named Queen. Daenerys would ultimately give her favor– a flowery wreath– to the final winner of the tournament. All those who wished to enter– a cap of a hundred, given they'd be there for days if every single person participated– would have their names dropped into a bowl and she would pluck out at random the names of the first two fighters.

From there, she'd draw from the bowl to replace the 'loser' (whose name would be tossed into a torch) and allow the winner to battle them. Sometimes it constantly changed, other times one person would remain the consistent victor. If a person won three fights in a row, they were named an 'Earl,' at which point they could decide to continue or to take a break. If they chose to take a break, they could stand to the side and recuperate, though their name would be placed back in the bowl and they could be drawn to re-enter the ring at any point, and their three-count would start anew.

Usually, there was a whole group of Earls who would take breaks to wait out the competition and see who else was chosen for that title with their victories. Eventually, they'd all start to get drawn back in to fight each other, and it would continue until the end where the victor would be named 'Queen' or 'King.' In the first several years, that was how Brynhildr had decided who would act as personal guards of Viserys and Daenerys. Today's winner would be the first named guard of Prince Aegon within the compound, unless of course Viserys or Aegon themselves won.

Chairs were set up on the second-floor balcony overlooking their fighting courtyard. In the center would sit Daenerys and Brynhildr, surrounded by Oberyn and Daario (who did not fight in these tournaments often). The fighting courtyard was their largest open space, with two floors above that allowed Valkyries to crowd in the remaining balcony space and below beneath the arcade walkways beneath the balconies which looked right into the courtyard.

The Valkyries had been a much smaller group the last time they were able to fit everyone here. It worked out well enough now that many of those interested in ship-building and/or weapon-making only were often not in attendance, choosing instead to guard the rest of the house, their dock, their shipyard, and their forge while the others had their fun. This was a special occasion, however, and more Valkyries than usual had come to see young Aegon test his strength.

How Brynhildr loved these tournaments. Daenerys liked them, too, especially now that everyone wished for her favor. As the fight began, the whole courtyard lit by torches, Brynhildr tapped her foot rhythmically against the ground, smiling to herself and remembering all the times her brothers took her up to their cabin to train together.

How they'd test her, how they'd tease when she improved or when she made a mistake. She missed that. The quiet days hunting– at least, they'd be quiet until Ivar and Sigurd had a go at each other and ruined the mood. Even so, she remembered Bjorn coming up to tell them things about Ragnar. She remembered Ubbe and Hvitserk offering her ale and how she hadn't liked it, at first.

The first few battles played out, the first named Earl a wildling spearwife Ynmilla. Then, the Einherjar Erich, a long-time exile of the Iron Islands who had fashioned his own mace with fishhooks. A Sarnori shield-maiden named Aathy that was fearfully strong with her club. The twin Volantene ax-wielders Nyssa and Taessa. The Lysene warhammer-wielder Sylvarra. Viserys himself, of course. To Brynhildr's surprise, Ser Jorah, Connington, and Aegon all became Earls as well.

"And so we near our end," called Brynhildr, looking down at the ten Earls. "You have all fought well. I am pleased to see that our three newest guests have all chosen to participate and have earned this spot in the competition."

"And what of you, Commander?" asked Connington, looking up at her. "Do you ever participate in these sorts of things?"

The Valkyries in the audience (and those who had lost their battles) let out huffs of indignation, upset that he seemed to be challenging her. Shyra shouted in her defense, "The Commander would win the tournament each time in the early days, there is no fun for us if she competes."

"The three of us fought to first blood when we first met," said Osric, gesturing to his sister and then to Brynhildr. "In ten seconds, the Commander had blooded the both of us. A girl of fifteen, she killed men three times her size. I suggest you do not get ahead of yourself, guest, for a fight between you and the Commander would only end in your death."

Brynhildr leisurely lifted her hand, asking them for silence. "Thank you, Shyra and Osric. I am sure our guest understands this now." Her lips curled into a smile, watching Connington scowl. "Your Grace, if you would pick names for the final battles of the Earls."

Daenerys reached into the bowl, calling for, "Erich of the Iron Islands against Sylvarra of Lys."

The Valkyries cheered, the offense masked but not forgotten. With the fishhook mace and warhammer in hand, the fighters met in the center. Brynhildr tapped her fingers against the armrest of her chair, jaw tight as she looked down at Jon Connington, who was truly starting to get on her nerves.

As Sylvarra emerged victorious with a hard smash on Erich's foot that drew blood from his toe, her next opponent was chosen– Nyssa of Volantis with her ax. Smaller and quicker, Nyssa had dodged Sylvarra's heavy strikes and managed to nick her in the shoulder. Then, Daenerys drew her sister Taessa's name.

It was fun to watch the twins run circles around each other, teasing back and forth until at last, Nyssa managed to catch her ax with Taessa's and rip it out of the lock fast enough to cut her wrist. She began to cheer, tapping her chest and signaling that she had won two battles– if she won a third, she could become an Earl anew.

The celebration came premature, for against Aathy and her club, Nyssa had been quick but not quick enough. Aathy focused instead on knocking her down, doing so hard enough that Nyssa scraped her knee against the ground and drew blood. The next name drawn belonged to Connington, who went up against Aathy with his sword.

He was a good fighter, Brynhildr had to give him that. He was above-average for a knight, and surely had learned much after fighting alongside the Golden Company. With a longer-range weapon, he'd managed to pose a good challenge and ultimately cut Aathy's thigh from a distance. He was put up against Ynmilla and her spear next, but it seemed that this had posed a challenge. Ynmilla was quick to twirl her spear, having learned for many months from Oberyn when she first arrived at Valkyrie Keep. In the end, Connington was blooded on his elbow.

Ser Jorah was drawn as an opponent to Ynmilla, and it seemed he fared better, perhaps because he had more experience against spears or perhaps because he'd been here a bit longer and knew how Ynmilla fought. As he won, Daenerys excitedly drew the next name– Aegon.

Brynhildr leaned close to watch, Aegon having already proven capable against other fighters. Against Ser Jorah, two swords, it was much more interesting. The boy was good, she gave him that. There were points where she worried his hubris might cause him to make a mistake, points where she imagined that he'd falter in a real battle. It was different to fight here with such low stakes. A fight to the death might distract him, for here, he seemed to be having too much fun.

Still, he defeated Jorah, which left only one opponent to be drawn: Viserys himself. Brynhildr glanced sideways at Daenerys, who seemed oddly pleased. She wondered if her daughter had drawn Viserys when she should have drawn Jorah and instead turned it around for the purpose of placing Aegon and Viserys against each other.

It was evident very quickly that Aegon could not fight as Viserys did. It made a difference to have learned from people who were taught both in the style of fighting pits and the style of mercenaries. It certainly mattered that Viserys had learned to fight as Vikings did, while Aegon had probably had prim-and-proper knights instructing him on honorable ways to fight. He didn't know how to do as many tricks, he didn't fully anticipate the moves Viserys was about to make until it was almost too late. He was still very much a boy, not one entirely ready for a real battle.

Viserys emerged victorious with a slash at Aegon's arm, but was quick to lower his sword and take the boy's hand, lifting it up and mounting a cheer from the Valkyries. "He's a good fighter, my nephew," said Viserys kindly. "Mineri, with your permission, I vouch that he has proven himself and deserves a man to kill."

They all looked at Brynhildr eagerly. First, she guided Daenerys in tossing down to Viserys the flower wreath, marking him the winner. Then, Brynhildr announced, "I agree, my boy, victor of this tournament– well done, Viserys. Prince Aegon has proven himself and I will find a man for him to kill. In the meantime, Ynmilla was the closest Valkyrie to the top, and so, she will serve as your personal guard. Do practice against her, for you'll find many spears on the battlefield."

Connington seemed to understand this was a dig at him, and glared at Brynhildr. To Aegon, she continued, "I tell you this, young Prince– something my father once said to me and my brothers. It is one thing to use a weapon, but another to kill. You will never be the same once you've fully wet your sword. Are you ready for that?"

For a moment, Aegon looked nervous. He'd seemed that way since the outcome of the tournament, as if he had been stunned by Viserys's pride in him, as if he'd been jealous of Brynhildr's pride in Viserys. She wondered if it had affected him to not have a maternal figure. Of course, anyone could have raised him to be a good boy, but there was a certain type of love she'd always craved from her mother that she couldn't find even when her father and brothers did demonstrate that they valued her. Perhaps Aegon envied the fact that Viserys and Daenerys had both men and women who were capable warriors and were proud of them.

She called them all to go to sleep, promising someone would be brought soon for Aegon. After saying goodnight to Daenerys, she went to find Viserys, who had already bathed and was sitting on his bed reading.

"Mineri," said Viserys, setting his book aside. "Everything alright?"

"It is," she said. "Your Uncle finally came back; didn't bother him to have missed the tournament. I think he's come to terms with things, because I saw heard him talking to Aegon about Elia." She sat at the edge of his bed, smiling. "It's been a long time since I've come to say goodnight to you. I think you were Aegon's age the last time I stopped by, usually you say it at dinner and I'll only stop by to see Dany."

Viserys turned red. "Well, I felt I was too grown up to have it continue. I was seventeen and you would still sing me to sleep and pat my head until I entered a world of dreams. I thought I had to wean myself off of that if I was to be King. Admittedly, I miss it."

She beckoned him closer. With a shy smile, he turned over and wiggled closer, until she was able to reach him, caressing his head and humming for a moment. "Whenever you want comfort, don't be afraid to ask for it. We all want a comforting touch even as we get older."

"Do you miss your mother?" asked Viserys.

"Very much," said Brynhildr. "I still dislike her, something I only earned a feeling of when I avenged her. But I do miss when she'd carry me to bed– I used to share one with Ivar. She'd give us both a kiss and she'd sing, too. Mostly for him, but I enjoyed it as well. Helga would do my hair in the mornings when I awoke and if I napped during the day, she'd pet my hair this way."

He regarded her sad smile. "It's been twenty years since you last saw any of them. And you... you knew them. You loved them. You don't even know what happened to them."

"No, but perhaps it would hurt me more to know. It hurts to have memories, but they can also be beautiful things. I was thinking today how it saddens me that Aegon has no memories of his mother or father."

"I was thinking about that, too," said Viserys. "I recalled what your father once told your brothers– 'A man does two things: He fights to conquer and preserve, and he looks after his family.' Rhaegar didn't look after them well. Aegon and the rest of us suffered because of his mistakes. It... it saddens me. I often grow sad remembering my own mother... gods, I can barely remember what she looked like. What she sounded like. And then I think, Dany doesn't have any of that. Aegon doesn't, either. But at least Dany and I both had you to sing to us and hold us. I don't think Aegon had anyone like that. Jon took care of him but he's not the warmest."

Brynhildr nodded. "Viserys, please be careful around them. Even if you knew Connington before, don't let your guard down. It's been a very long time since you last knew him. And Aegon, he seems a good boy, but he is as temperamental as any dragon. Be wise in your approaches."

"I know," said Viserys. "I will be. I know not to trust too easily. I can be happy and kind, but they both still need to earn my trust. I have to protect myself and Dany. I don't want to believe they'd hurt us, but... you always told us that sometimes you are hurt by those closest to you. You told us how Rollo betrayed Ragnar and I've kept that fresh in my mind. Don't worry, Mineri."

She nodded in agreement, glad he understood this. "I am proud of you, my boy. For all of it– all the years you worked hard to become this warrior. The years you've studied and sought to edify your mind. It is one of the greatest blessings in the world to have gotten to watch you grow. You may not think you will sit the Iron Throne, but you and Dany are perhaps the only people worthy of it. Your mother would have been so pleased to see it. I like to believe she is, I like to believe she can see us now and she's watched you grow up, too."

"I believe that as well," whispered Viserys. "I know... I know you taught us to believe in the Valyrian gods, too, but... I have always believed most firmly in Valhalla. I like to tell myself my family is there, waiting for us alongside your family. I know that when I die, it will only be in battle. And I believe that on that day, I will join my parents and Rhaegar, but I will also see Elia, Rhaenys, Ragnar, and Sigurd, for they died during a time of battle. That way, you and I can be together, too, even after our deaths."

Tears began to sparkle in her eyes. She leaned down to kiss his forehead. "You may be twenty-two years old, but you will always be my sweet little boy. It honors me greatly that you have come to believe in my gods so fiercely. You are of the greatest warriors and all in Valhalla will rejoice when you arrive there. I know my father will love to meet you. He used to call me his Little Valkyrie. And you, my son, are mine." She tickled his chin, still managing to elicit a laugh. "Sleep, Viserys. You've earned it, after that tournament."

Brynhildr kept running her hands through his hair, singing her usual lullaby as he hugged his pillow and closed his eyes. He seemed so much more relaxed, and she wondered if perhaps the idea of a crown had been a burden to him. That burden washed away now; instead of focusing on ruling, he could do the things he liked the most. Learning and fighting. He was her son and the world would bring him happiness or risk her rage.

No one could take his peace from him. She wouldn't let them.

-

A/N: Happy 300 pages! Comment for more :)