Chapter Text
King’s Landing - 209 A.C.
Kiera sat on the cushioned window sill of her apartments. Were they still her apartments? She was not Princess of Dragonstone anymore… These were Valarr’s apartments. He was not here anymore. Out the window she could see the damning proof of that. And she couldn’t stop staring, the green smoke rising from the ruins of the Dragon Pit. Green. The smoke was green. Everything was green. Even Valarr had looked green by the end.
She shook her head. She could not even think of Valarr’s face. She’d get lost in the memory.
At the moment she needed to focus on the future.
Wasn't spring a moment for new life?
Spring wasn’t supposed to bring so much death.
Oh gods, she was so alone.
No, she didn’t want to think of that.
But she needed to. She needed to if she wanted to look to the future. To plan.
Kiera couldn’t go back to Tyrosh. No matter how much her heart called for her mother. She couldn’t. She wouldn’t. She knew she had six months to plan. It was protocol. They needed to make sure she wasn’t bearing a posthumous child for her husband. A new Prince of Dragonstone. No. A new King she corrected herself. King Daeron had died that morning. Did the realm know? Did his children? Surely, Rhaegel and Aerys had already been informed.
She had no good-family anymore. No good-father. No good-brother. She had three good-uncles and some good-cousins but what good were they? Aerys had never even spoken to her. Rhaegel was kind but mad. Maekar was… well, she wouldn’t ask for his help. Or maybe she would, she could leverage his guilt. The cousins were as good as if she didn’t have any. Aerion was not only a monster, but in the Free Cities. Daeron was a useless drunkard, if not as mad as his uncle.
Queen Myriah could have influence over Aerys. But little with the Small Council.
She was alone.
But she had six months.
Six months. If she kept her mouth shut. She wasn’t with child. Kiera knew. She was going through her monthly courses. Noarina, her handmaiden, was the only person who knew. She’d come with her from Tyrosh. She was loyal to her alone. She’d keep the secret as long as Kiera needed her to. She would not trust the red of her maids with something like this. She had not chosen them. Noraina’s silence would only gain her six months.
Oh, Valarr, how could you do this to me? She thought, fighting tears.
Keeping her in Westeros was of interest to The Crown, whoever bore it after this debacle. But Kiera would not fool herself, it would be interests that kept her in her husband’s lands, not affection. Kiera’s dowry had not been paid in full, and that would be what would keep her here in these foreign lands. Only her good-father would have allowed her to stay out of the goodness of his heart. Maybe her good-mother would as well - Alas Kiera had never met her.
Staying probably meant she’d be married off again. The thought of it made her want to vomit. But it was the reality she was dealing with. She needed to think about who would they marry her to.
If they wanted her dowry in full it would have to be Aerys’s first born son. He had none. And it didn’t seem like he would have one any time soon. Rhaegel’s only son was already married. To his twin sister. The bastard with the winestain birthmark, the one they still kept close… Brynden Rivers had orchestrated it. But if they didn’t get her into the direct line of succession her dowry would not be paid in full.
Maybe they’d marry her to Prince Maekar or one of his sons. The idea horrified her further. It wouldn’t solve her dowry, as matter of fact it would diminish it. For the further down the line she married, the smaller her dowry got. It would probably, at least, not destroy The Targaryen alliance with Tyrosh.
Why wasn’t she with child? Why was her womb so useless? Failing her time and time gain.
Maybe she should just get pregnant.
It seemed desperate.
But she was desperate.
It couldn’t be just anybody’s babe. No - it needed to be passable as Valarr’s. Who did that leave her with? Targaryens and Dondarrions. It’d need to be someone who’d keep the secret. That ruled out any of her husband’s Targaryen uncles. Even now, after the kinslaying - though accidental if Maekar was to be believed - they were deeply loyal to each other. She ruled out any of the bastards, they had their own interests and would use her child to their own gain.
That left her with Manfred Dondarrion and Daeron Targaryen. Two famous whoremongers. Maybe they wouldn’t even recognize her if she stopped dying her hair. She doubted Ser Manfred would keep the secret. But Daeron might not even remember.
Kiera pressed a hand to her mouth when she felt the bile rise up in her throat.
But even if she left that very day, in that very moment, she’d not reach Summerhall nor Blackhaven in time to pass the babe off as Valarr’s. Even if she got with child her first night there, the babe would be born in almost a year. No one would believe her.
Kiera angrily wiped at the tears on her face.
She had no options. She was at the mercy of unknown men.
Kiera prayed to her husband’s gods to take her the way they’d taken him. She just wanted to be with him. Her Valarr who always asked. He asked what she thought of important matters. He asked about trivial things she liked. He asked before leaving her alone. He asked before entering their chambers. He asked for her help. He asked if she wanted his. And on their wedding night, he asked for her permission.
He didn’t know. He couldn’t know. She never told him.
She eventually fell asleep, staring at the green smoke.
She was woken at sunset. By her maids. They all stood fearfully behind Noraina.
“What is it?” Kiera asked, a bit more forcefully than she intended.
“Queen Myriah, My Lady,” Noraina started, but she was unable to finish.
“She’s dead,” Kiera finished.
The maids nodded in unison. Kiera nodded back.
One less ally, she thought.
That year had taken so much from her. Had broken her heart so thoroughly that the pieces were not big enough to break again. If her heart had been glass it was dust now.
“There’s something else,” Noraina said.
Kiera stared at her maids.
“Jayne,” One of the other maids said.
“What about her?” Kiera asked, she hadn’t even noticed she wasn’t present.
“She’s fallen ill,” Noraina said.
“With?”
Kiera was hoping against hope, people could still get a simple flu.
Noraina shook her head. This damned spring sickness.
“I’ll pray for her,” Kiera whispered, unable to raise her voice further.
She stood and walked over to her bed. She fell asleep again as soon as her head hit the pillow.
Six moons had passed. In that time, the maester had not visited her once. At the beginning she excused it, he was surely far too busy to try and confirm a pregnancy so early on. But by the fourth moon no new cases had been reported. The Stranger had left the city and with it almost half its population. But it had stopped. Kiera had been one of the lucky or unlucky - if you asked her - survivors. And she understood that The Crown was, too, gaining time.
In that time she had found no solution to her predicament. Nor had The Crown found one for theirs.
Now she stood, once again, at the dais at the sept of Baelor. To her left, closer to the altar, stood Prince Rhaegel, his wife and his three children. The six of them represented the Targaryen family. They weren’t all that remained. But Aerys had neglected to invite his youngest brother. She knew the rumors and she knew the truth.
Slowly Aerys Targaryen walked down the aisle, clad in a long black cape. He looked bored. Next to him, though one step behind, walked Aelinor Penrose, his wife, modestly dressed and yet looking immensely more regal.
The coronation was a simple affair. Much simpler than Kiera had imagined. The High Septon had placed a crown on Aerys’ head and then one on Aelinor. And just like that they were King and Queen. There was no banquet. Aerys had not wanted one. Aelinor had made the excuse that the realm was still mourning.
Kiera knew The Queen was saving face for her husband.
The only extraordinary thing that had happened had been the edict. The New Small council. A completely new Small Council. While Rhaegel was acknowledged as the new Prince of Dragonstone, there was no trueborn Targaryen named. The most shocking appointment was the double appointment of Brynden Rivers as Master of Whispers and Hand of The King.
There obvious common thread amongst the group of men was their academic aptitudes. The most dangerous was what they all studied: sorcery.
In Tyrosh she had seen many a sorcerer’s work. The problem wasn’t that it was a sham. The problem was that it worked. But rarely at an acceptable price.
Two moons later Kiera was summoned to court. So she donned a fine gown and her jewelry as armour and made her way to the throne room. There weren’t many people. It was not the day for common petitioners. But a day for high born people and rich merchants. Kiera would not be a petitioner. She had thought about petitioning The King to allow her to stay, but as her station had not been addressed and her allowance had not changed, she decided to lay low.
No more.
After a few minutes of waiting Bloodraven - Kiera thought the moniker fitted him better than his name - sat on the Iron Throne. It didn’t surprise her. She had not attended court in the last two moons, in her attempt to go as unnoticed as possible, but it was no secret that King Aerys I had no interest in ruling.
After the petitioners were done, a steward called her forward.
“Lady Kiera or Tyrosh, Dowager Princess of Dragonstone,”
Dowager Princess of Dragonstone.
So her status had been sorted out.
Kiera walked slowly, with her back straight and her head held high. Her handmaidens walked behind her. With her pink hair, abundant jewelry and rich black gown, she looked every bit the Princess marrying Valarr had made her, every bit the daughter of the Archon of Tyrosh that she was. Now that she knew where she stood, she would remind the court.
When she stood in front of the throne she gave a very small courtesy. She would not offer anymore to the bastard Hand of The King, she was higher in hierarchy.
“Lady Kiera,” he said bowing his head, “I am glad you could join us.”
He started with his normal flattery.
“Why have I been summoned?” Kiera asked after a few pleasantries had been exchanged.
“The Crown has negotiated a new marriage contract for you, My Lady,”
“A new marriage contract?” Kiera asked, surprised and somewhat offended, “Why wasn’t I informed?”
Bloodraven dismissed her concerns with a wave of his hand.
“Your father has sent his approval and the Tyroshi ambassador has already signed in his name, as has The King,” He said as an explanation, with a satisfied smile on his face.
Kiera closed her eyes. And took a deep breath. She didn’t like his expression.
Suddenly a possibility she had not thought of hit her. Her posture almost faltered. The Hand of The King was unmarried. He ruled in his place. He was of royal blood. They wouldn’t marry her to him? He had a paramour, some sorceress. But when had a paramour stopped a man from marrying.
“To whom, Lord Hand?” Kiera asked with a steady voice.
She clasped her hands in front of her, trying to hide their shaking.
“King Aerys first born son,” He answered simply.
“Is The Queen with child? I was not made aware, I should offer my congratulations,” Kiera said, half a dare, half true.
She knew Queen Aelinor longed for a child.
A murmur started to run through the crowd.
“No, The Queen is sadly not with child,” Bloodraven said strongly enough to quiet those present to quiet down, “But your betrothal will be made effective as soon as the boy is born,”
Kiera nodded slowly.
“When will this happen? For I imagine I will already be an old crone by the time we will be joined?”
Why was she being so combative? An eternal betrothal to an inexistent child, gave her everything she wished for.
“A copy of the contract will be sent to your apartments, Lady Kiera, so that you can understand your situation better,” Bloodraven conceded.
“I’d be very thankful,” Kiera said.
Bloodraven and Kiera stared at each other for a moment. Was it a dare? Was the man finally taking measure of her? She doubted it, they’d say he used sorcery to spy on people. Maybe the boy would be born, who was to say that this man could not predict the future?
Odds were that they needed her dowry in full.
She understood ruling. It required great amounts of money. A plague like the one that had decimated the kingdom last year would exacerbate the need of coin.
“Marrying the future Prince of Dragonstone will be a great honor,” Kiera added.
“It will,” Lord Rivers said nodding his head.
“Gods willing, it will be soon,” Kiera said with a pleasant, fake, smile.
Gods willing… The Gods had not willed anything good for this realm in the past year.
She had five years. This impossible betrothal had bought her five years. Her father would not waste her childbearing years so easily. If in five years a boy was not born of Queen Aelinor’s womb and King Aerys loins, the contract would be null and void. She’d be sent back to Tyrosh. In five years she’d be one and twenty, many women married for the first time at that age.