Chapter Text
Daemon Targaryen
The Gods of Old Valyria were playing with him. That was the only explanation he could think of finding himself in his five and ten-years old body. He still had his memories though. Visenya, dead. Viserys, dead. Baela and Rhaena, orphans. Sweet Jace and Luke, dead. Rhaenys, dead. Rhaenyra, betrayed and left alone in her growing paranoia. The Gods were making him relive it all. It probably was a punishment for his many sins.
But why start now? On an especially uneventful morning of 97 AC? His father and grandparents were still alive, he remembered. Rhaenyra would be born in a few months, he was not sure Aemma was pregnant yet. The memories of this body told him that no. He also was not married to Rhea Royce yet. Not a punishment then maybe, but another chance. One he intended to take.
Three months later, Aemma and Viserys announced that they were expecting a child. Three moons more and his grandmother started talking about discussions with House Royce. He knew what was coming. They were going to give him to a woman who would never give him the family he craved.
He remember what happened the last time around. He had been furious, pleading with his grandmother who never relented, pleading then with his father who could not even be bothered to listen to his second son, pleading with Viserys to talk with them since he had their ear only for his brother to tell him to stop his tantrums. He had met his future wife, but in the arrogance of youth he wanted nothing to do with her. He showed her that and everyone in the family scorned him for it. Then, Aemma, eight moons pregnant, had gone to their grandmother to plead his case. It was to no avail, Viserys even accused him of endangering his wife, he did not care that Daemon would never have asked that of Aemma, that she did it of her own volition. She earned his eternal loyalty that day, it was the first time he called her ‘sister’. The wedding had taken place, not even grand. He had been there, he had recited his vows with hate in his eyes and betrayal in his heart. He had even tried to bed Rhea properly but she flinched at his touch and laid rigid, eyes on the ceiling in their bed. He had renounced and spent the night on the sofa. Something he had thought would redeem him a little in his wife’s eyes. It had not, the next morning he had heard her tell her uncle how much she despised Targaryens and wished the Good Queen never turned her eyes to Runestone. She called his whole family abominations. Still, he had tried recognizing that his behavior when they first met had been unacceptable. Most importantly, he had known then that he wanted a child to call his own after meeting his niece and feeling the deep love he could have for a child of his blood. He had brought her gifts, well thought ones, in accord with her interests. He had tried talking to her about said interests. He had offered her the possibility of travelling on dragon back to where she wished. Still, she had shunned him. Until one morning when he had overheard her conversation with her maid. “Ask the maester for moon tea for I fear my husband will soon give in to the urge to rape me.” She had said. This day he had stopped trying and returned to the Red Keep. As soon as Viserys had been crowned. He had started to ask for an annulment, one that was never granted. He had ended up killing Rhea. A waste truly and a feat he had no wish to reiterate. It was distasteful, sinful even and could not have been seen favorably by the Gods.
He had to change this part of his destiny at the very least. That and Aemma’s death.
So, he started thinking. He had to try to convince his grandmother, he could not barge into her rooms and scream at the injustice like the last time. And if he did not manage to convince her, then he needed to make a good impression on his betrothed.
He demanded an audience with the Good Queen. One that was granted in a matter of hours. His grandmother was a small woman in stature, diminished by age but still an impressive Queen. He loved her even if he could not spend much time with her. She received him in her solar in Maegor’s Holdfast. The room was bathed in sunlight, the soft lilac color of the furniture made it relaxing. He knew that Aemma would keep most of it when came her turn to be Queen. He kissed his grandmother’s hand then her cheek. He took the offered seat and noted the expression on the Queen’s face, disbelief and satisfaction, probably because he did not behave like the child he still was.
“Grandmother. I think you know why I requested an audience. I have come to beg you to reconsider my betrothal to Lady Rhea.” She raised her brows, Daemon never begged, for anything. “But if you cannot find it in your heart to grant me this request, I would know your reasons.”
She sighed and put a hand to his cheek. “You are too dramatic, my child. Marriage is not a prison, nor is it a death sentence.” His heart broke because he knew it meant she would refuse. “You will marry Lady Rhea. House Royce is an old family. Respected. With ties to the First Men. As it stands, Lady Rhea is the heir to this House. She will be a good wife to you. Your children will one day rule Runestone.” He would settle for that, even if it meant he renounced Rhaenyra. He would renounce everything if it meant his family had a chance at happiness and he was acutely aware that changing events could mean he was never reunited with his wife. And he was ready for that. But on the topic of Rhea Royce he highly doubted that things could change.
“But why her? Why her more than…” He thought for a minute. “More than Lord Stark’s sister? More than a Tyrell? More than a chance at peace with Dorne with a Martell? Why does it have to be her? I understand that not everyone can have a love match like Rhaenys, you, my parents or my brother.” He hoped it made her feel guilty to realize that he would be the only one in their family who would not be afforded love. “I understand even that there are no more Valyrian women of age and that we probably cannot afford to wait for the next generation. But I thought I would at least be worthy of a Great House or even of a match to settle a dispute. I don’t get why House Royce.” He hated that his voice was almost whiny.
She sighed like an adult exasperated by a child’s incessant questioning. “We have reason to believe House Royce could be plotting against our House. Now, this is just a suspicion, no proof has been found and the King and I agree that the best way to quell rebellion before it starts is through marriage. If the next generation is half-Targaryen then they have no reason to rebel.”
“What if there is no next generation?” He asked her in a whisper.
She laughed. “Lady Rhea is young. There is no reason for her to be barren.” She did not seem to understand his point.
“That is not what I meant. What if she is not willing? If they truly think of rebelling, would they not have taught their daughter to despise our House? She could refuse to bed me. I am not a rapist grandmother. I cannot be a rapist.” He shook his head.
She frowned. “That is very unlikely. In this case an annulment should be easy to get. But you have no reason to fear such outcome.” She patted his cheek again. Daemon knew defeat when he saw it. “Now, they will be traveling to meet us and you should be married before the year end. I think the wedding should happen in Runestone out of respect for the bride’s family and then you can live there for a little bit…”
Viserys Targaryen
For once, Viserys was impressed with his little brother. It was no secret in the family that Daemon despised his match with the Royce girl. So, he and his father had expected him to throw a tantrum when they met with House Royce. He had not. He had been the perfect picture of a prince, respectful and gallant towards his promised. He had even requested a walk with the lady, chaperoned by her uncle of course. If anything, the bride seemed more reluctant. It was good to see the tension leave his father’s shoulders. He hoped the son growing in Aemma’s belly would give him less headaches than Daemon did their father. His wife was weak from the pregnancy and had been confined to their chambers, but the maesters assured him that the babe was healthy.
Free from worries that Daemon would cause a diplomatic incident and after a short meal with Aemma, he followed his father in his duties as Hand for the rest of the afternoon.
It was late when he arrived back at his chambers. He hoped Aemma had not waited for him to have dinner. She could not get hungry while she carried their son. She was not in bed, where she should be. He started to panic. Looked all around the room but could not find her. He opened the doors, startling the Kingsguard.
“Where is my wife?” He demanded, different possibilities starting to permeate his mind.
The knight frowned clearly confused. “In your chambers my Prince.” He turned towards the room and saw the empty bed. He paled.
“We need to alert my father.” Viserys started running, the mortified guard following behind her in his armor. Prince Baelon was usually in his solar in the Tower of the Hand at this hour. Viserys did not even wait for Ser Harrold to announce him. “Father, Aemma is missing!”
“Did you check the gardens?” His father replied very calmly.
“Ser Denis did not see her leave the room!” He shouted in his frustration. His father did not seem to see the problem.
“Don’t let me believe you never found Maegor’s passageways and hidden doors. Alyssa found Daemon lost in one when he was four.” Passageways? His wife, his proper lady wife could have sneaked past her guards? His father took pity on him. “No need to alert the whole Keep, let’s go together and find your wife.” His father got up from his desk and put his arm around him, guiding him outside.
They asked a few servants until one of them pointed them towards the Godswood. There was a corridor with open windows just above the garden with the weirwood tree. He saw his wife from there, sat on the roots of the tree. He wanted to call her from the window but he stopped when he saw who she was with. Daemon paced in front of her. Apparently, his father had noticed as well because he frowned and motioned for him to stay silent and listen in from the window, hidden from view.
“I’m sure she will change her mind, Daemon.” Aemma was telling his brother.
“You were not there to hear her, sister.” It pleased him that Daemon saw his wife as his sister. “She despises anything to do with House Targaryen. She flinched away from me. She told me never to expect children from her. That she would kill herself before carrying my abominations! Her uncle laughed!” His brother was clearly upset and Viserys was confused. Surely, he was lying, the Lady Royce would never have said something like this. He was inventing and telling a story to Aemma in hope that she would plead his case. “So long as she will be my wife, I will never be a father. And surely, they will blame me! Saying that I am just throwing a tantrum, that I did not try, that I’m humiliating her.” He sounded defeated.
“If your fears are confirmed, they will listen to you, Daemon. They are your family. Your father and brother care about you.” His wife was soothing.
Daemon scoffed. “I am a headache to them. A second thought best ignored until I inevitably commit my next misdeed.” He told her bitterly. “I’m certain if Viserys realizes you are not in your chambers he will turn the whole Keep upside down until he finds you. Probably even involve Father or Grandfather.” Well, of course he would do that. “Once I went on a flight with Caraxes. I love him, but the wretched lizard decided at some point to leave me in the forest when we took a break somewhere in the King’s wood. He went back to the dragon pit. I know that because that’s where I found the traitor next. I had to come back on my own. It took me three days, thank the Gods I knew the basics of hunting and edible berries. When I came back, I was scolded for missing my lessons with the maester. No one noticed! I was eight!” Viserys gulped, he had never heard this story. He turned towards his father who had a look of absolute horror on his face. Bellow, his brother continued. “I will have to endure my fate. Just don’t blame me if I focus all my attention on my niece.”
“Your niece?” She asked. Daemon pointed to her round belly. Aemma laughed, gods he loved her laugh. “How are you so sure it will be a girl? Viserys thinks it will be a boy.”
“Viserys is wrong.” His brother said sheepishly. “It will be a girl and she will be beautiful, smart and strong. Fierce too, a true dragon, a true Queen.” Viserys frowned, that seemed awfully specific.
“Did you dream it?”
“Something like that.” Daemon said. Now that got both his and his father’s attention. Dreamers were rare in the family, could Daemon be one and they had missed it. Judging by the fact they had missed his disappearance for three days apparently, it was shamefully possible.
“What else can you tell me?” Aemma asked curiously.
“None of it is written in stone Aemma. Hopefully most of it will never come to pass. You don’t need to hear it.” His voice was full of sorrow.
Aemma was silent for a few seconds. “Is that also how you know that Rhea will never give you children?” She finally asked.
He did not hear an answer, but he saw his wife get up from the ground, with some difficulty, and hug his brother. Daemon was trembling.
“Let’s go join them.” His father had crossed the distance between them and put his hand on his shoulder. “Not a word of anything we just heard.” Viserys frowned. He wanted to discuss everything with Daemon. But he guessed his father knew best and probably needed to have a moment alone with his second son to address these subjects. “Are you not supposed to be on bed rest, Aemma?” He asked as Viserys ran to embrace his wife and kiss her forehead, relieved to be reunited with her despite the fact he had known she was fine already.
“It is my fault, Father.” Daemon said. “I saw all this maester talking about the health of the babe, the good of the babe, the needs of the babe. I thought I could do something for my good sister for once lest all of us forget she exists.” Viserys glared at Daemon and his mocking tone, how dare he accuse him or the maesters to neglect his wife? They were doing everything they could for her, for her pregnancy.
A month later, he and Aemma welcomed little Rhaenyra into the world. Daemon had been right. More surprising, Daemon was indeed a dotting uncle. Whenever he could, he spent the afternoon in the nursery watching over her, or reading to her or even singing to her. He begged his leave to take her on Caraxes as their mother had done for them. Viserys refused, of course, she was way too young.
When Rhaenyra was two moons old, despite Aemma’s numerous appeals to their grandmother and his father, the whole family, save for Aemma and her daughter who could not travel yet, went to Runestone for Daemon’s wedding. It was not the disaster Viserys had anticipated. Daemon was not drunk. There was no need to threaten him for him to say his vows, he did not even make a fuss about the bedding. The next morning however, he was up early. Unusual for a newlywed. When Viserys asked him how his night was, his answer was alarming:
“Uncomfortable, I slept on the sofa. I am no rapist.” He said before storming out to mount Caraxes.
When they left him in the Vale, they heard nothing from him for half a year. Rhaenyra grew alarmingly fast and the maesters deemed it safe for the Prince and Princess to try again for an heir. Aemma looked weak to him, but who was he to question a man of the Citadel. It took them two months to be successful. Naturally, in his bliss at the idea of being a father again, he asked Daemon if they could expect a cousin for Rhaenyra and her sibling. He had been back for only four hours.
“I told you already brother, I am no rapist.”
“Surely you jest! A woman who can resist your charms.” Viserys laughed, stopping when he saw the look of hurt on his little brother’s face.
“Not all of us have the honor of a love match, brother. Now, if you would excuse me, I am tired of my travels.”
Rhaenys Velaryon
“It has nothing to do with the fact that you are a woman, Rhaenys.” Daemon told her with a sigh and seeming resigned. “I will support my brother because he is my brother.”
Rhaenys found she could not really resent him. Especially not when he looked that sad. The change in him had happened around the same time as his wedding to the Lady Rhea, he had gone from being a reckless and impulsive youth to a ruthless man whose calm usually hid a storm. Like a man who had seen a hundred battles and lived through a thousand councils, he was calculating and as efficient as he was loyal. Unfortunately for her, it was to Viserys he was loyal, not to her.
“If it can ease your feeling of betrayal, I believe regardless of who I support, the Lords would chose my brother. The Andals are not of our culture, cousin, and unfortunately, Grandfather decided to give them a choice. They will chose according to their dated beliefs and then hold their own choice as proof of their righteousness.” He continued. Surprisingly, his words did help.
“I don’t feel betrayed by you. I understand your reasons.” She told her younger cousin, placing her hand on his arm.
“If I were you, I would stay away from that Throne, it is a curse.” He mumbled.
She scoffed. “You do realize once your brother is crowned King, you will be his heir? At least until Aemma births a healthy son.”
“Rhaenyra would be better suited.” He said with a smile. Daemon loved his niece, everyone in the Red Keep knew that. Whenever he came back from the Vale, it was to see her. He taught her High Valyrian, he took her on flights with Caraxes, read to her, sang to her. It made everyone wonder why he did not have a child of his own. He was excellent with Rhaenyra. Seven Hells, he was even good with her children though he sought them out less often. It was no secret he did not love his wife, but Rhaenys seriously doubted a young man of Daemon’s age would not bed her. Maybe she was barren. It would be unfortunate.
“Rhaenyra is four.” She pointed out, not letting him see her train of thoughts.
“She will grow.” He replied.
As Daemon had said, Viserys was chosen as heir to the Throne. Corlys was furious, but she did not mind too much. It was as Daemon had said, the Throne could be a curse.
Besides, her husband retained his place in the Small Council even when the Old King passed away and left the Throne to her cousin. It was what she cared most about anyway that her beloved husband keep a place he could take pride in and that their family be recognized as the great power that it was. It also meant that her and her children did not have to remain in the snake pit that was the capital all the time. For that, she was grateful.
Aemma and Rhaenyra for instance did not have this luxury. The little girl excelled in her lessons, especially the ones dispensed by her uncle if rumors were to be believed. And yet, Rhaenys could not help but look at her with pity for she knew she would never be enough. She was a girl and the men of the Realm would sooner put it all to the torch than let a woman sit the Throne. It did not matter that the little girl already showed more promise than Rhaenys or both of her cousins. It did not even matter when three years later, she became the youngest dragon rider in their family. Only seven namedays and she already climbed the skies, carefully escorted by her uncle on his own mount. The Queen Who Never Was guessed that it had been her cousin’s idea to take his niece to try and ride her dragon. Aemma had just suffered through her last stillbirth. The King and Queen were obviously devastated and did not find the time to notice that their living child was suffering as well. But Daemon noticed and his actions brought the smile back to Rhaenyra’s face.
Shortly after these events, Daemon petitioned to have his marriage annulled for the first time. It was truly a wonder that he did not do it earlier, no one ignored that the poor young man had no love for his wife. In a family that had been allowed love matches for two generations now it felt truly unfair. Besides, there were no children even after six years, Rhaenys saw no reason why it should change now.
“Brother.” Daemon started with a bow. That he would lower himself as such in a public audience instead of seeking a private meeting was baffling. Or maybe he had already tried that and been refused. “It is no secret amongst this Court the failures of my marriage.” Interesting choice of words, one that spoke of a humility she did not know he possessed. “My wife and I live most of our time apart from one another and there has not even been one pregnancy to speak of.”
“Pregnancies are easier to achieve when you live with your wife.” Otto Hightower remarked mockingly.
“My wife has no wish for my presence at her side, she made that very clear.” Daemon retorted.
“Your wife has a duty, her willingness and wishes have nothing to do with anything.” Rhaenys fought the urge to protest.
“You forget, my Lord Hand, that my wife is not just a lady of the nobility. She is the reigning Lady of Runestone. If she does not want me there, unless my brother the King orders it so, I cannot remain.” A clever way to answer on Daemon’s part. “In any case, I have come here to petition for an annulment. If only so that I could remarry, have children of my own and relieve some of the pressure that has been put on my good sister to produce heir.”
“Producing heirs is the duty of a Queen.” Rhaenys noted Aemma’s glare in the direction of the Hand. “But of course, a man like you would push for his own claim. Your Grace, I have to advise against this, it would surely anger House Royce.”
“I agree with my Lord Hand.” Of course he did. Rhaenys scoffed discreetly. “And I think you presented us with a very good solution brother, I will write you a royal order that you are to be welcomed at Runestone at any time. It is time you went back to your wife.” How Viserys could be happy with his new decree was beyond her. Daemon looked horrified. Meanwhile Otto looked happy.
Though the most notable reaction came from the little Rhaenyra. When she learned that her uncle was being sent away, she pleaded with tears and screams for all the castle to see. With her uncle first, then her mother and finally with her father when nothing working. The King feigned surprise, or maybe he was truly ignorant of his daughter’s adoration for his brother. He denied her. So, the little girl demanded to accompany Daemon. She was swiftly refused and sent back to her lessons. Then punished by the King because she obviously snuck out of said lessons.
Tantrums in young children was to be expected. What was more troubling was the look of pure hatred Rhaenyra gave her father when she thought no one was watching. It did not pass even a year after Daemon was sent back to the Vale. Rhaenys knew they exchanged letters, but she really hoped her cousin was not stupid enough to plant the seeds of hate in his niece.
She encountered Rhaenyra in the gallery overlooking the gardens. Her parents were strolling bellow, not seeing the sadness and anger in their daughter as their latest pregnancy seemed healthier than the last.
“You should use a more subtle look, Rhaenyra. Openly glaring at the King is an offense.” Rhaenys warned the little girl.
“He deserved it.” She replied defiantly.
“Why do you think so?” Rhaenys felt a pang of pity for her kingly cousin.
“He is going to get Mother killed all for the hope of a prince when he already has heirs and refuses to see any other solution.” The young princess said bitterly.
“Daemon does not have an heir, I don’t think the line is has strong as you think.”
“Laenor would be next in line and by the time we got to this eventuality surely one of us would have another child.” Rhaenys was very surprised by the girl’s words. In fact, she was shocked into silence that Rhaenyra would consider Laenor heir before herself. The young girl took her lack of answer as an invitation to continue. “Besides, if he was really that worried, he would grant Daemon his annulment. Uncle is miserable in the Vale, no child can come of that.”
“Did he tell you in his letters?” Rhaenys asked worriedly.
“He would never say it in so many words. But he never speaks about his wife or anyone at Runestone other than a few guards he trains with. He doesn’t say much about his life, which tells me he must be bored beyond reason. In fact, he mostly asks about me and the family, even you and your children. He even asks after Father’s health for some reason.” Rhaenys had not read the letters, but if they contained exactly what Rhaenyra had said, she would have reached the same conclusions.
In fact, she was moved by the fact that Daemon asked after her. And she decided it was about time she visited the Vale again. Corlys was intrigued but let her do as she pleased. She did not tell the King and Queen. It was a matter of two or three days to go there and come back, hopefully with her cousin in tow.
In the late afternoon, she landed in the Vale around Runestone. There were only a few houses around the castle. The land was rocky, obviously difficult to farm. It was desolated, she did not like it one bit.
She liked Lady Royce’s welcome even less. “The King can order me to suffer my husband’s continued presence, but he cannot force me to welcome every unannounced Targaryen.” Charming.
“I apologize for my lack of warning, Lady Royce. I have come to speak with my cousin, if you could tell me where he is, I will be gone by morning it will be as if I was never here.” Rhaenys smiled, her words prudent. Viserys would hear about this outrage.
The rude lady gruffed. “I’ll have someone take you to his chambers.”
Said chambers were obviously guest ones, away from the family aisle. Rhaenys doubted House Royce received many guests. Daemon had to be lonely there. She found him eating dinner alone at the table. At least the rooms were decent enough.
“Guest rooms and you don’t even eat with the family. Is this not supposed to be your home, cousin.” She asked, trying to sound teasing but she only ended up sad.
“Not if my wife can do something about it.” He replied motioning for her to join him. “I’m guessing you met her.”
“The rudest person I have ever met.” She scoffed.
“Indeed. She thinks because the King did her the affront of imposing my presence on her she can be rude to any Targaryen.” He paused to take a piece of venison. “It’s why I don’t get down to the halls anymore.”
“Why do you still suffer her? I would have thought you would have given her to Caraxes by now.” Rhaenys commented. She had half a mind to feed her to Meleys and she had only spent five minutes in her company.
“It would only give Otto Hightower more arms against me. I have made it very clear how miserable she makes me, I have pleaded my case. I was ordered back here by the King…” He sounded defeated.
“No hope for children?”
“She won’t let me touch her.” He scoffed. She knew her cousin, he would never force himself on any woman, which probably meant he had not even consummated the union. An annulment should have been easy to get.
“I will talk to Viserys.” She vowed.
He gave her a sad smile. “Thank you, though I have very little hope that you will succeed.”
He was right. When she got back to the Red Keep, she could not get to Viserys alone, Hightower insisted on remaining. So, all she had to say was dismissed. She spoke of the way she was dismissed, and the Hand told her it was her fault for coming unannounced. She described Daemon’s accommodations but of course, everyone knew Daemon’s temperament. She told Viserys it was time to come to reason, call Daemon back and grant the annulment.
“As my Hand said, I do not see cause to.” The King replied. His only contribution to the whole conversation.
In the end, Daemon did not come back because he was called. Sweet Aemma gave birth to a sickly boy. One the King named Jaehaerys after his great-grandfather. The Crown Prince lived five moons. His death was worse than the previous still births and early deaths of infants barely a few hours old because this one had lived. If the Gods had been good, he would have been Viserys’ fifth child. Instead, he was the fourth dead babe. The King and Queen isolated themselves, once again living an almost ten namedays old Rhaenyra alone. At least until Daemon arrived, unannounced on Caraxes.
He did not go to the King. He did not call a Small Council meeting. In fact, he made no fuss other than a few roars from Caraxes. So, Rhaenys could only assume he went to the little princess. He stayed over half a year.
Otto Hightower
The Queen was an utter failure. Incapable of producing anything more than one living girl. Useless. Of course, he would never say that out loud. It was one of the few things he knew the King would not let slide if he said it. Still, in the privacy of his own mind, he could do and say as he pleased. He had freedom to plot.
He had really thought and hoped that this babe would kill the Arryn girl. She was so sick already. And it was the perfect timing too. His daughter had flowered while Corlys’ was still a child. Alicent would have been an obvious replacement. But it would not come to pass. Yet, all was not lost. It became less and less likely that an heir would come from the King’s line. The next King would probably be Daemon as dramatic as that option was. The prince was notorious for his dislike of his Royce wife and wished for an annulment. There was an opening there. He could send Alicent to the Rogue Prince. Have her seduce him. Once he was hooked, he would suggest to Viserys the dissolution of Daemon’s marriage and a new match with his own daughter. If, by some miracle, a new Crown Prince was born, it could easily be taken care of. Alicent had probably inherited the fertile womb from her own mother. She would have sons and Otto could shape them into the Kings he wanted. The Kings they wanted. Knowing Daemon, he would have no interest in children, so there would be no competition from him.
He summoned his daughter. Her face still retained some roundness of childhood. Her body did not look fully developed either. But there was no mistaking the beauty that was blossoming there. She was trying to hide her hands in her skirts. A bad habit of biting her skin off he had as of yet failed to beat out of her. Maybe he should have her hands bandaged together for a few days. Keep her in her room. It could work. For now, he needed to send her to Daemon though.
“Do you know where the prince is?” He asked her.
She frowned, confused by the question. “With Rhaenyra, I would assume. They are always together…” Her tone of voice was unsure. Something else he wished to correct.
“Not always. They both have duties.” He dismissed. “I want you to go see him when he is alone. Fain interested in the misery that comes out of his marriage that would do it.” He saw her gulp. “You realize that should the Queen fail to produce an heir, he is the next King?” She nodded. “Wear a dress of your mother’s if you’d like.” He said with a wave of his hand. Effectively dismissing her.
He knew she managed to get to him alone. His spies reported it to him. They were seen walking in the gardens together, multiple times. He thought it was going well.
Until Daemon found him in a deserted corridor of the Red Keep. The mad man took him by the collar and slammed him to the wall. “What do you think you’re doing? You sent your child to me? After convincing my brother to deny my annulment? What is your plan? To have her seduce me? Then, when she has me hooked you tell the King to dissolve my marriage after all? Marry her to me? What makes you think I would rather have a child from a small house than the heiress of a small house?” It should not have surprised Otto. He knew that Daemon was smarter than Viserys, that was one of the main reasons why he wanted him as far away from Court as possible. “This stops now, are we clear?” The prince pressed on.
“I have no idea what you are talking about, Prince Daemon.” He replied, not letting his violence get the better of him. “Alicent is a young girl. You are a prince with the Valyrian good look. Can she really be blamed for fancying you?”
“As her father, I strongly suggest you relieve her of her illusions then.” The man did not wait for an answer. He left the corridor.
Of course, Otto did none of that. He told her of the encounter with Daemon, downplaying it to merely a confirmation that he had taken notice and encouraged her to keep seeing him. If he stopped her now, he could not sell the young infatuated girl’s narrative. He knew she was smart enough not to get herself into a compromising position.
Otto had not been bested a lot in his life. Not in matters of the mind anyway. He was not used to it and as such it came as a surprise that not only had Daemon found out his plan, but he had also found a way to make it fail spectacularly and without implicating himself.
He should have known something was amiss when Alicent was still able to see the prince after his warning in the corridor. Not long after, the prince had taken a minor noble from the Stormlands as his squire. Some Criston Cole. A little peculiar but the prince himself was peculiar, unpredictable. Otto ignored it, his spies kept reporting that Alicent walked with Daemon, the squire their shadow. A good thing, Otto thought, they would have a witness when the prince finally succumbed to Alicent, one no one could accuse of being his for he had never spoken to the boy. But the spy could not know that it was not to Daemon that Alicent mostly talked for six moons. It was to this Criston. He had thought his daughter’s sense and loyalty unwavering, and he had thought wrong. He had thought the fear alone would stay her, but she was yet another proof of the weakness of her sex. She was caught with the young squire by a spy of Lord Velaryon of all people, they were kissing in a dark corner of the keep, or so he had been told in front of the King, the Queen, Daemon and Lord Corlys. The two youths had of course been sent to their respective rooms, under guard.
“I will have my squire sent to the Wall, if it pleases you Otto.” Daemon told him with false concern.
“No, they should be married.” The Queen intervened. “The Crown can provide a small castle and lands in the Crownsland to save face. How could you let your squire behave like this, Daemon?” The chastisement sounded false.
“He told me of his intention to ask the Hand for her hand.” The prince replied. “Alicent is the daughter of a second son, I thought them assorted enough, especially as he was my squire and hence afforded some standing in Court.”
“Of course, no one can blame you for it, brother.” The King intervened. It was then that Otto knew he had lost.
“I agree with the Queen.” Corlys, who really had no place in this discussion, said.
“Indeed.” Viserys approved.
They turned to him. Otto could say that he suspected Corlys and Daemon to be allying against him, maybe even with the Queen. But if he did so, at best Corlys and Daemon would be exiled for a few months and at worst he himself would be exiled forever. It would not change Alicent’s situation. He could kill this Cole. But the damage was done, Alicent’s reputation was tarnished and she could not get a royal match anymore. He could kill Alicent. But what would that achieve. No, his daughter was lost. He needed to move on to the next plan. “It will be done as her Grace suggested. I thank the Crown for its generosity.” More platitudes were exchanged but he was now focused on his next step. He needed to call Gwayne to the capital. His youngest son was only slightly older than the princess. Then, he needed to show Viserys once again that his brother could not be trusted.
Daemon Targaryen
It was easier than he thought it would be, the girl was easy to manipulate, so was the boy. Daemon was good at reading people, he had observed how close Cole and Alicent were in his last life, there was potential for a deeper relationship if the youths were given the chance. Otto had only made his endeavor easier. How the man could stomach ordering his daughter to try and seduce a man old enough to be her father almost was beyond him. Rhaena and Baela would probably never exist in this life, not if he had his way and married Rhaenyra from the start, but he distinctly remembered what it felt like to have daughters. The twins had been his treasure, the only reason he had consented to their betrothals in the first place was that he had raised Jace and Luke himself for the most part and that by marrying them, the girls would stay close to him. Yet he knew there were different kinds of fathers, he was different from his own father, or from Viserys, or worse, from their grandfather. The wise King had been a good king for the Realm but a disastrous father especially to his younger children.
In any case, he cared little for the confirmation of Otto’s character, he cared that Alicent was now out of the way. The ordeal also won him a dinner with his family. Viserys and Aemma were slowly going back to themselves after Jaehaerys’ death and Rhaenyra was just pleased that he was there. He had forgotten how attached to him she was when she was a child. She seeked his company whenever she could. She sat on his lap, held to his arm and curled into his side. He was careful with his behavior this time, only being a doting uncle and guiding her as a parent would. He wanted no one to doubt his devotion and love for her. And when the time came, he wanted the transition to marital love to seem as smooth as possible. It helped that for now he had no desire for her whatsoever. She was a child. She looked like a child. And he saw her as a child. A fact confirmed by her early retirement to bed. For once, she had not insisted too much that he accompanied her. So, he remained with his brother and good-sister.
“How long do you plan on staying here, Daemon?” Viserys asked him, sipping some wine.
Daemon frowned. Surely, he did not mean what he thought he meant. “Why should I be anywhere else?” He tried as best as he could to keep his voice even.
“You cannot get your wife with child if you stay here.” Aemma turned her head sharply to her husband as he spoke. Aemma was still his strongest supporter even as she grew weaker in health.
“I assure you brother, I have no more chance to get Lady Royce with child by residing in Runestone than I would have if I chose to live in Pentos.” Daemon scoffed. He was annoyed with his brother. No, he was furious at him, the man who had everything and failed to appreciate it. “Surely Rhaenys told you that my lovely wife had me sent to the guest quarters, as far from the family as possible. She also bars me from the family table. And she complains loudly to anyone of the unfair order of her King that forces her to suffer her husband’s presence in her castle. I have done nothing there but train with some lowly guards and fly with Caraxes. The only freedoms she cannot take from me.” He added bitterly.
“Surely if you tried harder.” Viserys commented.
“How?” Daemon had had enough. Viserys opened his mouth, but he did not let him speak. “I tried talking to her, I tried leaving her in peace, I tried gifts, I tried interesting myself to her activities, I tried appealing to duty. I did everything. She hates me brother! As a matter of fact, she hates anything Targaryen. That’s why Grandmother made the match, to prevent her cursed House from rebelling because the Royces hate us! So, you see, you had your love, Rhaenys had hers and I had someone who could only ever hate me. All because our grandparents were afraid to really use their dragons.”
“You go too far Daemon!” Viserys warned. “I am sure you are exaggerating. Lady Rhea is simply a little willful.”
“And who told you that? Otto? The same man who keeps whispering that I want nothing but the Crown? The same man who sent his daughter to seduce me?” Daemon needed to keep his anger in check but he found some difficulties doing so.
“What are you talking about?” The King looked shocked.
Aemma intervened on his behalf. “Have you not seen Alicent following Daemon everywhere for the last few months, husband? I would have thought her begotten with him, but she wore her mother’s dresses. She could only do that if her father gave her leave and why would he do that? She is also only twelve and now that I have seen her with the Cole boy, I can only conclude that Otto sent her to your brother.”
“Why would Otto do that?”
“To get his blood on the Throne.” Aemma shrugged. “If I cannot give you a living son, Daemon is your heir.”
Viserys laughed. “Don’t be ridiculous. The girl just fancied Daemon and now she does the boy. Girls her age are fickle things.” Daemon and Aemma grimaced.
Sometimes he thought about giving up on everything. He thought about mounting Caraxes and living the rest of his life in comfort in Pentos. Especially at time like these when his brother dismissed his opinions so easily. The only reason he had not done so yet was Rhaenyra. He could not and would not leave his niece to her fate. He would not run like a coward as he had before. He also wanted to save Aemma but by this point he knew how unlikely he was to succeed. Viserys outright refused to hear his concerns and Aemma, despite his warnings, believed it was her duty. She had about a year left if everything went as it did the last time.
The best he could hope for was not to find himself exiled this time and be there to support his niece. He was also starting to think that accelerating Rhea’s demise would be a good idea. He still had to find how. He could not afford to be linked to her death, not even by rumors like he was before. He had considered a hunting accident, with witnesses, but the easiest way to achieve this would be to get her drunk, and being the uptight pain that she was, his wife did not drink. He could always find someone with a grudge over the Royces, there were many, but it would be too easy to trace him back to it.
No, he had had a better idea. The thing was, Daemon was often bored at Runestone and the library they boasted of was small, smaller even by his standards. And he had read half of the tomes already. So, to entertain himself, he had to resort to read educational books after he finished the histories, lore and poetry. One of them, intended for acolytes of the Citadel described some basic methods of healing. One in particular retained his attention. The preface was written in a flowery language that could only belong to one of the Reach but in essence, it warned the reader that any medicine, if abused, could become a poison. Daemon also remembered the story of his great-aunt Rhaena’s companions. Nobody paid him any mind in Runestone. He could easily use one of these untraceable medicines to poison different people to various degrees and all would think it was bad food. Of course, he would ensure that amongst the severest cases was his wife. And who would suspect him if he himself fell ill?
He left King’s Landing before his brother really got angry with him. He thought it better. Leaving on his own accord meant coming back on his own accord too. He waited two months before he put his plan into action. One day, he left on Caraxes for the day. Only this time he went farther than usual. To the forests of the Riverlands where a special kind of weed grew. One that, once brewed as a strong tea became a medicine to make someone vomit. It was commonly used to treat poisonings. Once brewed correctly, one only needed one drop to expulse the poison. Two drops caused an illness that last three days. Three and it lasted a week. With six it could kill any man of dehydration. It was also very light in taste. Almost indetectable to an untrained palate. Or so the book claimed. He hoped it was true.
If there was one thing that was never in low supply in Runestone, it was fresh water. In fact if there was one area where the Royces enjoyed luxury, it was in their water. Rhea liked hers with pomegranate seeds inside and her uncle always wanted a hint of rosemary in his. They also insisted that in any given room there was a jar of fresh water for everyone. Theirs, with their peculiar and expensive ingredients were identified by the sigil of their house in the clay of the jar. Painted blue for Rhea’s and left bare for her uncle. A room near the kitchen was dedicated to the preparation of drinks and in particular, the storage of water jars to refill the rooms as soon as needed. Daemon had no trouble sneaking there after the last maid left and before the baker woke up. He put a full glass of the tea in Rhea’s jug. Enough drops in her uncle’s to make him sick for three days and then, various, non-lethal amount in the other jars. Of course, some people drank more that others and would still be at risk. But death had made him more cunning, not particularly less ruthless.
The next morning, he drank to glasses of water before turning back to wine. He had no idea how long he would be sick for, but he was sure he would not die. He vomited his first meal of the day right before noon. An hour later, a servant rushed in to tell him his wife was sick since the morning and others were falling ill. He witnessed the second occurrence. It must have been a strong batch, because he was sick for four days. Meaning he was too ill to leave the bed when his wife passed away. He emerged from his chambers to discover the keep in mourning. He had not killed only his wife, it turned out. The master-at-arms drank about three jars a day. He had succumbed as well. So had a dozen children and two young maids. Daemon had completely forgotten that their smaller bodies would need a smaller dose. The knight who had had the first audience with Rhea was still between life and death having shared her water. Only the wine-drinkers remained untouched.
Daemon knew he should feel guilty, but he did not. He had no sympathy left for House Royce. Rhea’s uncle looked like him, weakened but alive. He was the only one to acknowledge Daemon. “At least I won’t have to see you anymore.” He declared.
Daemon stayed for the funerals two days later and left immediately after.
The women in his family were happy to see him. The same could not be said about the men, or rather the man since Corlys and Laenor did not seem to mind. Aemma and Rhaenys saw clear through the events of Runestone, they knew he had done it, but did not seem to mind. Rhaenyra was… she was truly the Realm’s Delight. Full of youthful giggles, mischievous smiles and bright ideas. For now she was only twelve but Daemon knew she would flower in the next two to three years and become the most beautiful woman in the continent.
What annoyed him though was the presence of Gwayne Hightower around the princess. The young knight was clearly trying to court her, taking her on strolls through the gardens and calling on her multiple times a week. He did not even have to subtly coax her to talk to him about it, she came to see him to vent her frustration.
“He keeps following me, bringing flowers I don’t even like!” She whined. “He keeps annoying me with tales about his supposed valor when he has never seen anything. I tried to tell Father, but he dismissed me saying I had to be polite to the Hightowers since they had been through enough recently. It’s not my fault Alicent was caught!”
Daemon chuckled. “I guess your only solution then is to spend your time with your old uncle who has also been through a lot recently. You cannot be with Ser Gwayne if you are with me now, can you?” The girl beamed at him. From then on, he brought her to and from her lessons and when the Highcunt’s son tried to come see her, he simply glared at the young man. Maybe he could find a way to swear the boy to the Kingsguard in place of Cole. On second thoughts, maybe having a Hightower at such a position was not ideal.
As he had expected, as soon as he could, Otto tried to have him sent away. But, of course, he was prepared.
“Your Grace, there is also the matter of Prince Daemon’s marriage.” The leach said at the end of a Small Council session. Daemon had invited himself to it.
“My wife just died Otto.” Daemon reminded him.
The man had the audacity to roll his eyes. “Indeed, a tragic event, we are aware. It leaves you free to remarry though.” He looked like a cat who had discovered the jar of cream.
“The mourning period under the Faith of the Seven is of a year.” He reminded the hateful man. Lord Beesbury nodded in agreement.
“Considering the current state of the inheritance of the Crown, I’m sure the High Septon would make an exception. The Heir to the Throne cannot remain unmarried with no heirs behind.” Corlys straightened and his brows furrowed at the words.
“Your talk is getting dangerously close to treason Otto.” Daemon grinned. “Unless I have not been informed of something, my brother never named an heir. Rhaenyra is as much the heir as I am as far as I’m concerned. Laenor and Laena Velaryon, along with their mother, my dear cousin are also in line. I do not think the situation is as dire as you would have us believe Otto.” He glanced at Corlys and Viserys. The first had a smug smile, the other a pensive frown. “I will not remarry so close to my wife’s death, it would be unseemly and could anger House Royce. May I remind you, my good Hand, that you yourself saw no need or rush to relieve me of that same fruitless union when I petitioned my brother to do so. I fail to see what changed really.”
“Everyone but Daemon out.” The King ordered. He had not said anything for the entirety of the conversation. Otto looked ready to protest but decided against it at the last moment. The Grand-Maester closed the door behind him. “Was what you said true?” His brother asked once they were alone.
“Which part?”
“The part about Rhaenyra being my heir as much as you. Is it truly how you feel?” Viserys detailed.
“Of course. You never said I was your heir. There is currently no Prince of Dragonstone and I know better than to presume of my position in the succession, or in your heart for that matter.” Viserys gave him a pained look.
“You are the only viable heir. Rhaenyra is a girl and Rhaenys’ line is female, they come after you.” Once Daemon had longed to hear those words from his brother. Now, they just angered him. Because he knew Rhaenyra wanted the throne and the burden of governance more than he ever did. She was better suited for it to.
“Only by Andal laws. Laws I don’t recognize or follow. Rhaenyra would make a marvelous Queen.” He added because he knew it would be true without the bitterness of losing her children.
“You are trying to tell me you don’t lust for the Throne yourself?” Viserys scoffed.
“I never did, and I never will. What is the Crown when compared to the love of my family, what is the Throne when compared to yours or Aemma’s or Rhaenyra’s happiness? Those are things I lust for.” He declared. “I would fall on my sword right now if it meant you could have the healthy son you long for. Of course, I cannot. The only thing I can do is to be there for you, if not to give you counsel, as you made clear you do not want it, then to ease your burden, to fight your wars and make you laugh.” Viserys looked at him as if he was discovering him for the first time, even though those were all things he had told him before although maybe not in so many words. He waited for his brother to say something. It never came. “I truly hope you remember what I just said the next time Otto tells you of my supposed character. He doesn’t know me better than you… Oh and so we are clear, I will not be dragged to the Sept against my will a second time. My next wife I will approve of.” And she will probably be your daughter. He added to himself.
He got up. His brother held him back. “I think you should have a place in the Small Council!” Viserys blurted out before he could bow and leave. “Though I know not which one to give you… I admit. I do not wish to anger any of my current advisors, they have been good so far.”
His brother never changed. Always a crowd pleaser. Daemon gave him a genuine smile. “If you say I have a voice, then I have a voice, you are the King. I could just stay as an advisor. Though if you are opened to suggestions, I rather think that the City Watch is a neglected institution, if you would give me command and attach a place in the Council to the role, I would be more than happy to fulfil it.”
“A marvelous idea!” Viserys approved eagerly. Daemon guessed he would have approved anything.
Aemma Targaryen
Looking from one of the windows of the keep, Aemma wondered what Daemon had said to make her daughter laugh. She was a gentle lady of the Vale raised in the Faith if the Seven, she would never be glad for the death of one of her bannerwomen. But Rhea’s death brought her brother back to the capital and for that she was grateful. She knew better than to ask question of course. She stroke her small bump absentmindedly. Rhaenyra had just turned thirteen, if Viserys’ hopes were true and she was carrying a son, the age difference would be too much. Rhaenyra could not waste her best years waiting for a brother to grow. She would have to speak to her husband of a husband for Rhaenyra. Laenor was a candidate, but Aemma really wished she could convince the King to give their daughter to Daemon. They would make each other happy and it was all she asked.
In the year since he had come back, Daemon had cleansed the city. With the blessing of the King, and the annoyed agreement of the Hand, he had given a fatal blow to the city’s criminals. Now they feared the color gold almost as much as the loyal denizens loved it. It was a brilliant idea to give the men of the City Watch a uniform. Something to be proud of. So far, Otto had not found anything to exile Daemon over. Even better, every time he tried, Viserys got angrier. He had started to complain to Aemma about him. To add insult to injury, at least for Otto, Daemon had enrolled Ser Gwayne in the Watch. This way, the leech could not turn around her daughter anymore. As if Otto’s plans could get more disgustingly obvious.
Daemon also found time for her when he was not with his men or with Rhaenyra. He took her on strolls around the gardens.
“Why do you keep looking at me so sadly, brother?” She asked him as they turned to a more private part of the gardens, around a beautiful fountain. She remembered the conversation they had had thirteen years earlier, when Rhaenyra was in her womb. “Is this the one that kills me?”
He looked at her with an alarmed expression but his eyes told her what she needed to know. He sighed. “I thought you had forgotten about that, or that you did not believe me.”
“All that you said that day came true.” She shrugged. “Will you tell me of this dream? If you still remember it.”
“It did not feel like a dream, it felt real. Every last second of these twenty-five years.” Her eyes widened. “You do not want to hear it, sister, trust me.”
“Did any of the events change already?” She asked. He seemed to think about it before nodding. “Then if you truly lived another life and it does not repeat exactly, there is no harm in me knowing.” She argued. “What changed?”
“The date and manner of my wife’s death. Alicent and Cole’s wedding. And I was also exiled less.” He murmured.
“Is there anything you can think of that could help me get through this pregnancy?” She asked him.
“Moon tea.” He replied. She glared at him, there was no way she would kill the baby in her womb, she loved it too much already. As she had loved all of its siblings. Again, he sighed. “Ask for healers and midwives from Essos. They have technics unknown to our Maesters. Sometimes it is not enough but they could help.” He sounded pained as he said this.
“Do you want to share your burden with me? Did you need their services once?” She pressed him.
“Their knowledge could not save my second wife for her second labor.” He looked at the ground, eyes glistening.
“You had children?”
“Five of my seed but eight of my heart.”
“Please, tell me.” She begged. “I can be your ally if I know. I am not the fragile flower everyone seems to think I am.”
He stared at her as if to be sure of her resolve. “After you died, in this… let’s call it a dream for both of our comforts… I was exiled for words deformed by Otto. I went on to fight a war in the Stepstones. Meanwhile, Viserys named Rhaenyra his heir.” For once, her heart swelled with genuine pride for her husband. “Though, he still remarried. Don’t worry, I ensured she would not be available in case things went the same way this time.” He did not have to tell her who the lady was. She had guessed it. “I returned victorious. Viserys had two sons and a daughter but he did not change the succession. Only he pressed for Rhaenyra to marry. In my arrogance, I thought that winning a war in his name was all it would take for him to grant me my annulment and give Rhaenyra to me. He did not. Instead he married her to Laenor to smooth things over after he rejected Laena. Laenor was incapable to give her children… you see, he prefers the company of other men. I married Laena and lived in Pentos. We had twin girls whom I loved dearly. Laena died trying to bring our son to the world. I met Rhaenyra’s children at her funeral. Three sweet boys she had sired with a dear friend but who were raised and loved by Laenor. The three of us devised a plan to fake Laenor’s death, with him out of the way, Rhaenyra and I married in secret. We had two more boys. When Viserys died, he still had not changed the succession. Rhaenyra was supposed to be Queen. But her half-brother and his family seized the Crown while she was on Dragonstone, pregnant. She lost the babe from the shock. I was still impetuous then, I wanted to bring our enemies to their knees. But Rhaenyra thought diplomacy would be the safest way for the Realm. She sent her two eldest boys to negotiate with various houses. Her second was killed by her youngest half-brother. War was the only path then. Her eldest son died soon after, then our youngest. That was it when I died but I am guessing more happened later, the war was not over.” Aemma knew she had tears on her cheeks from his story. “I told you you didn’t want to know sweet sister.” He gave her a sad smile.
“Every insult, every set back… by people who already wronged you so. How did you even manage not to strangle them on the spot? How did you even find the courage to support Viserys during the Great Council?” She asked, furious on his behalf.
“Rhaenyra.” He answered simply. “I failed her once. I won’t do it again. This time I’m ready.” He spoke with resolve.
“I will help you. I will plant the idea of a wedding between you two in his head. This way, even should I die, my words will help you.” She promised.
She upheld her word. Whenever she was pregnant, Viserys was always obsessed with her bump. He laid his head close to it on their bed will she weaved her hand through his hair leasuringly. “I think we will need to find a husband for Rhaenyra. Even if I carry a boy, by the time he is old enough, her prime will have passed. It is unfair to her to make her wait.” Viserys raised his head from the mattress frowning. “You know I am right, husband. It is time to admit the gods did not grant us our ideal wish even if they might still grant us a son. Speaking of which, I want to invite healers from Essos to the Keep, maybe they have ways to assist me the maesters don’t know about.”
“Anything you want.” He almost dismissed. “But going back to Rhaenyra’s issue. Who better than her brother? Rhaenyra rides a dragon, she cannot marry too far from the family.”
“Her uncle.” She raised her hand before he could protest. “Hear me out before you refuse. Daemon loves her more than his own life. He is more than capable of protecting her. I believe she loves him just as much. He is also unwaveringly loyal to you and our House.”
“You just said yourself that the age difference would be too great between Rhaenyra and her brother. This would be even worse.” He protested.
“You know it is not the same for men as for women.” She chuckled. “I am not saying you need to decide now. She did not even flower yet. But think about it, for me.” She kissed his nose.
Rhaenyra Targaryen
Rhaenyra Targaryen was not known for her patience, so being made to wait by her uncle before they went to the tourney grounds was not to her taste. She had went to see her mother in the morning. The Queen would give birth before the end of the week the Maesters said. Everyone, from the Small Council to the kitchen maids, hoped for a boy. A healthy prince to inherit the Realm.
Finally, Ser Westerling announced Daemon. Her princely uncle strode in dressed entirely in black and red, a contrasting combination against his shoulder length silver hair. He was the true image of a Valyrian dragonlord. “Where have you been?” She demanded, pouting for good measure.
“I went to see your mother and her healers. Someone has to make sure they don’t forget their Queen behind the swollen belly.” He replied very seriously. Rhaenyra eased up a little. She loved seeing how caring he was.
“I went to see her this morning.” She told him. “Everyone fusses over a babe not yet born and forgets about her. They pretend to love you, call you the Prince of the City and yet they cannot wait to see you replaced.” She found it both ridiculous and infuriating. She also knew who to blame. Otto Hightower. The Hand of the King.
“The people of the city started calling me the Prince of the City and that won’t change no matter my place in the succession. Common folks want few things: a roof over their head, food in their belly and security in their street. I don’t have to be the heir to provide those things. Besides, I was never officially the heir. It could well have been you.” He pointed out. Rhaenyra frowned. The last Great Council had made it clear that a male descendant took precedent over a female. “The Valyrian law does not prioritize one sex over the other.” He had seen her confusion and explained.
“But we are in Westeros.” She pointed out. He only smiled sadly. “In any case, it would not matter because I would marry you, then our claims would combine.” She declared. She had never had the courage to voice her wish before.
His smile became more genuine which gave her hope. “You are way too young to think about this, Little Dragon.” He told her fondly and the hope deflated.
“You wouldn’t want to.” She half-asked, half-accused.
“I would wait until you are at least sixteen, dearest. The healers from Essos said your mother at thirteen was too young to safely deliver a child and though, thank the Gods, you are now hale and healthy, I would not risk it on you.” She did not know if she wanted to be annoyed that he saw her as a child still or if she wanted to hug him for his sweet words and consideration. The main point though, was that he was not opposed to marrying her. A good thing since, when she dreamt of marriage, she could only picture it with him. “Now, for your gift.” He interrupted her thoughts.
“You brought be a gift?” She asked excitedly.
“Turn around, Princess.” He ordered. She felt the cold touch of metal around her neck. In the mirror, she could see the necklace he was adjusting on her. Dark grey metal around a big ruby. It looked a little like Valyrian Steel. “This way we both wear a piece of our ancestors.” He declared confirming the nature of the metal. She turned to face him. “Beautiful.” He kissed her forehead.
Later, in the stalls, after the first tilt, Rhaenyra gave her favor to her uncle. She loved his armor. It was a work of heart really, the helm especially. He also had golden accents on it to reference his command over the Gold Cloaks as the City Watch was now called. He won all his tilts, including the last one against Criston Cole, Alicent’s husband. The princess did not understand her former friend, sure, the man was above average in terms of looks but he seemed dull… and poor. Even if she was only a second son’s daughter, said second son was the Hand, she could and should have done better. She received the flower crown of the Queen of Love and Beauty, of course. She noticed her father smiling fondly at her but also casting an exasperated look to her uncle.
Soon though, as they were still celebrating Daemon’s victory, Rhaenyra saw the Grand Maester rushing to her father and the latter following quickly in the direction of the Keep. Dread installed itself in her throat, forming a lump and threatening to suffocate her. She felt a heavy hand land on her shoulder. It was Daemon, a look of concern on his face.
“Get back to the keep, Little Dragon. I will get out of this armor and follow you as well.” He told her. She did not feel strong enough to talk, so she nodded back at him and walked as fast as she could toward Maegor’s holdfast.
The screams outside of her mother’s chamber were nothing new to her, the Queen had birthed many dead siblings already. She pushed the doors open, ignoring the protests of the guards and Otto who waited outside.
Her mother tried to smile at her, that much Rhaenyra could tell, but she was in too much pain to do so. She was drenched in sweat.
Her father was there, surrounded by the Maesters and healers from Essos who seemed to be arguing. “It has already been too long, your Grace.” One Maester was saying. “If we don’t intervene, both will be lost bur there is a way to save the babe.”
“It has not been that long yet!” The healer countered. “Some women labor successfully for days.”
“The Queen is already too weakened.” The Maester countered. “I am telling you, your Grace, this is the only choice.”
“There are things we can try. Technics to turn the child.” The healer pleaded.
“Such technics are barbaric and rarely efficient, your Grace. I have never known a babe to come unscathed from it.” The grey man said. “The Citadel would greatly disapprove.”
“We’ll do as you say, Maester. It is for the best.” The King said solemnly. Rhaenyra had not understood everything, but judging by the panicked look of the healers, it could not be good. Her mother trusted them more than the men of the Citadel. “All the healers out.” He ordered.
“Viserys, no!” The Queen found the strength to protest, but no one could disobey a direct order of the King. After a last look to her father, the healers left and the Maesters started to prepare tools, including a knife that alerted the Princess.
“Mother…”
“Get out of here Rhaenyra.” Her mother told her gently but urgently. “I love you.” Rhaenyra shook her head.
Seconds later and as Rhaenyra was still stuck in place, Daemon forced the door. Unsheathing Dark Sister, he cried. “I won’t let you.”
“Daemon, get out, this does not concern you. Take Rhaenyra with you.”
“You cannot cut her open, Brother. Listen to the healers.” Daemon pleaded.
Rhaenyra did not know who shouted first. Her, her uncle, her mother, her father. She did not understand what was happening until someone, probably a guard, lifted her and dragged her outside the room kicking and screaming, quickly followed by her uncle who required four guards to restrain him. The doors were barred but they did nothing to soften the screeches of her mother. Until those stopped to be replaced by the cries of a babe.
Daemon stopped struggling and the guards let him go. He was crying, Rhaenyra had never seen him cry. He got to her and enveloped her in his arms, whispering how sorry he was. Numb with shock, she did not know how to respond. She did not even manage to cry.