SER HARROLD

Ser Harrold had not thought he'd experience a worse series of days than the heir's tournament: The death of Queen Aemma, the chaos of the succession, the devastation of the King, and Prince Daemon in general.

Prince. Daemon.

The image of the Rogue Prince lounging on the Iron Throne, the throne he knew could one day be his, it haunted him. He'd seen all the prince was capable of, how the people who loved him turned a blind eye to, or worse, embraced his worst crimes. Rebelling against the crown, killing with impunity, defiling the King's daughter, and possibly… killing her husband?

From the day the marriage was announced, he'd dreaded her consort's ascension. Westeros had never had a queen before. Would Daemon be king in practice? Would he kill Rhaenyra and her heirs if it turned out he was not?

He'd promised himself long ago that, by whatever means necessary, he would defend the future queen and her heirs from her most dangerous enemy: her consort.

I was right in a way, he supposes. The greatest danger to his queen was marriage, just not the one he had thought.

Gods be good. He knows Prince Aemond. But worse, he knew who Prince Aemond aspires to be. And someone trying to be the Rogue Prince is far more dangerous than the person who naturally fills the role.

At least it's not Aegon, he consoles himself.

He had spent most of the night awake, waiting for his death sentence to arrive. Replaying the past years over and over in his head, scolding himself for not seeing the power grab that had been forming right in front of him. While he'd been worrying about Prince Daemon, they'd been worrying about him too. But their solution was far more nefarious, far more self-serving.

And it happened on my watch.

He deserves his fate, Ser Harrold decides. He'd failed to protect the Crown in every measurable way. Resignation was interrupted only by the indignation of picturing Ser Criston at the head of the Kingsguard.

Ser. Criston. Cole.

At the least he'd been looking forward to Prince Daemon finally killing him when he took the throne. Now he was to be denied even that one comfort. Now he left his position to Ser Criston, now he left Princess Rhaenyra —"

Princess Rhaenyra is not safe with him.

His self-flagellation is not interrupted until morning. A knock sounds on his door.

"Ser Harrold," calls the Dowager Queen. "Are you awake?"

"Yes," he responds. He's hardly in the position to deny her entrance. The door opens and Her Grace enters alone. Surprising.

Ser Harrold Westerling was never one to waste words. "Have you come to issue my sentence? Install your dog as my replacement?"

"I've come to offer you your life. Your freedom. Your position."

"My position to do what, exactly. Serve a usurper? Go to war with the boys whom I've sworn to protect?"

"To protect the Princess Rhaenyra, as you have always done."

He'd been filled in as to their latest scheme when they separated him from Lord Beesbury, but he'd grasped the implications behind their assurances of her safety.

"You mean to guard her in imprisonment. Betray her every day I see her. No, that is not protection."

"Ser Harrold, you have no other option. You may resume your position under this continued regime, or you may perish under the King's justice."

"How am I to ride at her side and defend her honour whilst holding her prisoner?"

"How are you to defend her if you're executed? How will you ensure that she's treated fairly and honourably if you choose to leave her out of pride?"

"I took a holy vow. I would sooner die than break it."

"Then do not break it."

"I am no Hightower. I do not see rules as existing for me to bend until the moment before they break."

"I do not ask that of you. I ask you to help me keep the Princess safe. She is still in danger here from many who would like to see her dead, or at the least miserable. With you as my ally, we can ensure that does not happen. With the Lord Commander to give us legitimacy, the Strongs will be persuaded to sue for peace. No innocent blood need be spilled."

"And Prince Daemon?"

"He is hardly an innocent." Ser Harrold can not argue.

He returns to another point that caught his attention. "Strongs?"

"Ser Harrold, the King is dead. We need not share his willful blindness any longer. You are an honourable man likely little inclined to see dishonour, but you know what I speak to be true: Jacaerys, Lucerys, and Joffrey, they are no true-born heirs.

"We cannot know that."

"Everyone knows," she says, echoing Prince Aegon from all those years ago. "All you need do is look at them. And even so, you knew Ser Harwin. You knew Ser Laenor. And he is no longer here to claim them. And he's no longer here because Daemon—"

"Enough." He wants to hear no more.

Her Grace sighs and rubs her eyes. She's likely not slept either, he realizes. "Do this for me at least. Come with me to see Rhaenyra. Be a comfort to her, under supervision. Do this for her and then decide later."

"I know not how I would do that, or why."

"It's not only her father she's lost, Ser Harrold. She has just miscarried her term."

"May the gods have mercy on you all," is all he can manage to say.

"She has no one she trusts right now, think of how she feels. Rhaenys has no fondness for her, and Rhaenyra has little fondness for me at the moment. You're all she has here. You've protected her since she was a girl, will you really leave her alone now?"

Ser Harrold remembers when his greatest fear was simply Rhaenyra falling from her golden beast. What he would give to have Syrax with him here now. She's likely separated from Syrax now too. Barred from her children, her husband, her dragon. Alone in her grief, and unprotected.

"Refresh yourself and break your fast, you may decide when I return."

He sighs. "Very well, I will offer her comfort and protection. But remember these words: to you, I offer nothing."

The Dowager Queen nods. "That will be enough for now."

He pointedly ignores the last two words.

He might walk away from a death sentence, but he walks like a man condemned all the same. He reaches for the sword that is no longer there — he is toothless to defend the Princess from the vipers that circle her room.

Her Grace raps on the door. "It's time."

The Princess takes her time, but she does open the door. Ser Harrold and the Dowager Queen both gasp — Princess Rhaenyra is gaunt and waxen; it seems a miracle she stands upright.

Her dead eyes come back to life when sees him. "And you too, Ser Harrold?" He had killed men before, but the hurt he inflicts so clearly upon the Princess eclipses any other blow he's struck.

"He's here for you, Rhaenyra, not for me."

The Princess eyes them both for a moment and, surprisingly, lets it go. She raises a finger to her lips and makes her way to the door of one of the bedchambers. They follow her and glance into dark room; Princess Rhaenys remains abed with only her hair escaping the covers. The Princess holds her shh gesture and quietly shuts the door.

The Princess shakes her head and leads them to the sitting room. "She has had no rest since… I fear for her health if she does not find it now."

She takes a seat upon a chair piled with several cushions and Ser Harrold follows suit so as not to seem imposing. The Dowager Queen sits directly across from the Princess and looks her in the eye. "I'm sorry I need disturb you at this time, Rhaenyra."

The Princess allows a single dark laugh to escape. "To the best of my memory, you're quite fond of pulling me out of bed after labour."

The Dowager Queen offers no defence. They sit in silence until she manages to redirect. "I trust that Rhaenys made for an adequate attendant?"

"Depends on your definition of adequate." Then the Princess loses her speech. She swallows, and leads their eyes to the table beside them; a babe wrapped in the style of the Silent Sisters lies atop the table.

"Gods be good." Ser Harrold speaks, finally. The Princess does not even look at him.

"Worry not, Alicent. She never lived. You did not kill her with my confinement, only with your betrayal."

"Rhaenyra…"

"No."

The silence resumes. The Dowager Queen picks at her hands the Princess seems too tired to even fidget. She just sits there, staring, swaying slightly. She lets the silence sit awhile before she speaks again. "My Father?"

The Dowager Queen does not look up from her hands. "He died of his own accord."

"That is not what I ask."

The Dowager Queen looks up in relief until she grasps what the Princess intends to ask next. She answers the question that Ser Harrold too had wondered. "I'm sorry, we cannot see to him until… everything is resolved. We cannot risk word spreading of the Silent Sisters' presence."

"You have my stillbirth as a facade. Never mind that you did not see fit to let them tend to my daughter… But they will not spread word should they attend to Father."

"Have you such faith in the power of piety?" the Dowager Queen asks in surprise.

"No," the Princess scoffs. "I have faith in the power of trauma and behaviour modification. I was once acquainted with a woman who 'trained' with the Silent Sisters. That silence is not instilled easily, but it is certainly instilled deeply — and painfully.

"Yet not deep enough, if this woman was able to tell you so."

"Dragons are loathe to accept indignities inflicted upon mere men. She escaped before such habits could take root."

Ser Harrold blinks in surprise. Saera. When did she meet Saera Targaryen?

But there are more urgent matters. He turns to the Dowager Queen. "Your Grace, I implore you to reconsider. From what I've seen the corridors are empty of servants; there must be little risk. Do not further disgrace the legacy of King Viserys by leaving him to…"

The Princess spares him another glance, and for the first time she seems to note his lack of weapons. For a moment she looks to him like she did as girl, and he meets her eye and tries to tell her, I'm here for you, not for them.

Her Grace clearly does not know what to do with the information presented to her. "I will… confer with the Council." She then summons the little courage Ser Harrold attributes to her. "The Princess Rhaenys, she has discussed with you… what happens next."

The Princess puts the girl away. "She did try. But I wished to hear it from the whore's mouth." The Dowager Queen does not try to correct what Ser Harrold assumed to be the intentional deviation from the idiom. She also does not take offence. It probably helped that Princess Rhaenyra's affect was, at present, as flat as that of Princess Helaena.

Her Grace seemingly cannot bear to explain; she attempts instead to moralize. "It's over, Rhaenyra. You knew this day would come. Actions have consequences; I'm sorry your father never taught you that."

It is Ser Harrold who snaps. "Enough, Alicent."

Everyone jumps, including Ser Harrold — he had never before dropped her formal title.

Alicent recovers. "But… I'm doing what I can now to save you from this disaster of your own making. And I hope that one day you will have grown enough to be able to thank me."

Rhaenyra cackles in that familiar, irreverent, more-that-slightly unhinged tone. "Thank you?"

Mayhaps married couples truly do absorb parts of the other. He looks back to Alicent: happily married couples, that is.

"For sparing your honour, sparing your life, and that of your children. But the Mother is merciful, and as a mother to a mother, I swear you will come to no harm."

"And my husband?"

"Crimes against the gods must be answered, Rhaenyra. Your husband has lived far too long in light of his." To this Ser Harrold can offer no argument.

Rhaenyra seems unconcerned. "It matters not; he had no plans to follow me. He did offer some inclination of flying to… never mind, in search of alternative pain medicine for Father. Medicine that would not leave him so addled."

"How do you know he is not home?"

"Because you would have told me so and immediately asked me to help lure him here."

"You are astute," Alicent admits. "But I ask your help regardless. Help us find him, Rhaenyra. We can end any war before it starts. I give you my word, your boys will be safe. All of them. Your elder boys may take their dragons and wealth into exile. Should Daemon meet his end, you may reside here in comfort with your two youngest. One of them may even succeed you on the throne.

"Why only the elders?" Rhaenyra challenges.

"You need not pretend anymore, Rhaenyra. Asserting their legitimacy will only endanger them. The truth will set them f —"

"Don't say it, don't fucking say it."

Indeed, Alicent does not say it.

Rhaenyra continues. "And what of my stepdaughters? To be married off like cattle? Baela will never submit to such a marriage, nor will she permit Rhaena to do so. Especially if you kill their father."

"They will have to decide what is best for themselves."

"You do not know us the way you think you do. You may have married into this family, but my mother's death smothered the last of the fire in my father. None of your branch knows what it is to be Targaryen."

Alicent snaps. "Rhaenyra, enough! Your inexplicable obsession with that man has invited nothing but disaster into your life. And still you choose to defend him! I fear nothing will sever it but death."

Despite Alicent's outburst, she remains calm. Taunting, even. "You're the one bringing him up again."

"Because we need him in hand to end this! To ensure your safety!"

"I married him to ensure my safety and that of my children. Also for the sex, but you wouldn't understand that part. He has done a commendable job in both regards so far."

"So then where is he now?"

Rhaenyra leans back and crosses her arms. The implication is clear: she knows.

Alicent sighs. "Regardless, we do not require his death to proceed. We have a contingency plan." This is news to Ser Harrold.

Rhaenyra does not grant her the satisfaction of appearing caught off guard; she merely sigh and leans back into the chair. "What are you talking about?"

Alicent leans forward. "Your marriage took place under false pretenses and was only made possible by a capital offence. My Lord Father has been consulting with Oldtown, and he believes we have the grounds necessary to move forward with an annulment. But it would delegitimize your youngest two as well."

It was strange. Rhaenyra had be listening to to disquieting revelation in such tired calmness. The she seems to… remember herself, and her nerves. "What are you talking about?"

"Rhaenyra, I do not accuse you of being complicit. In fact, this only works because you are innocent."

"Seven Hells, Alicent. Spit it out." She rubs her face like she has a headache.

"Daemon. Daemon murdered Laenor to claim your hand. You had no knowledge of it and married him in complete ignorance of the crime that enabled your union. We have grounds to free you of it."

She smiles. "My husband is many things, but he is no kinslayer. Yet. But I would not try to test that by enraging him with this plot, Alicent. Mayhaps he is indeed capable of murdering a good sibling, and one has simply yet to give him cause."

"Rhaenyra, we have evidence." This gets Ser Harrold's attention. He wished he could be surprised.

"Do you now?" Rhaenyra does not drop the wry smile.

"Yes, Rhaenyra, we do. I know that like the King before you, no evidence will ever be enough to condemn him in your eyes. He has always been your blind spot."

"At least my supposed blind spot belongs to another. You seem to favour holding yours all to yourself. It's a wonder you can get ready in the morning, what your lack of reflection."

Alicent needs a moment to recover before responding. "Mayhaps you also are in need of self-reflection. You will have enough time for it in the weeks to come."

"Weeks. I am to be given weeks to recover? How very generous."

"No Rhaenyra, the nuptials and coronation will go ahead immediately, regardless of your husband's survival. But the consumation…" Ser Harrold flinches, but Rhaenyra simply raises her brows. "Can wait until you've healed. There is a precedent for a coronation between the marriage and consummation, for sovereigns not yet of age."

Rhaenyra seemingly refuses to match Ser Harrold's outward horror. "Alicent, I fear that your troubling upbringing leaves you unable to grasp the implications, or the significance, of what you intend."

"Enlighten me."

"I'd sooner sell myself down the street of silk than lie with your pietistic, adolescent cunt of a son." After learning about her association with Saera, Ser Harrold is not certain if she was serious.

"Don't be crass, it won't be like that. Everything will be proper and respectful and for the sake of duty. Like how I was Queen to your father."

"In that case, I'd sooner sell myself down whichever street your depraved eldest son frequents."

"If you wish… you need not be left alone. The Faith —"

"Stop, you're making it worse," she interrupts in a dead tone. The Princess is far calmer than he is.

"I'm trying to make this better, Rhaenyra. For all of us and especially for you."

The Princess finally sheds her mask for a look of wonder. "Amazing… you truly believe this a kindness."

"Is it not?"

"I once made my husband promise he would hold back from his darkest impulses if I asked him. I do not think I will be asking him."

A knock interrupts them before Alicent can reply. Ser Harrold rises as the Grandmaester enters. "I beg your pardon, your Grace. But your father needs to see you immediately." He looks to Rhaenyra. "And I need to examine the Princess."

Alicent rises. "Very well. Have a rest, Rhaenyra. Heal. Consult with Rhaenys. I hope you will come to the correct conclusion on your own."

"Wait." Rhaenyra rises as well, with great difficulty. She approaches the bundle they'd willfully ignored. "Her… her name is… was… Visenya." She rests a hand on the girl and refuses to look at anyone.

"Rhaenyra…" Alicent begins.

"I… I want… I want her to have a funeral — a proper funeral. With her family on Dragonstone.

"Rhaenyra, I don't know if we can do that. They don't even know about the King yet."

"But… but later. She's… prepared. Just put her somewhere cold and promise me… promise me you won't dispose of her like… like she's garba —" She puts a hand over her mouth to stifle the sob.

Alicent looks conflicted. "Very well. We will… We will work something out."

She still will not look up. "I want to know, about her, about Father."

"Of course."

The Grandmaester approaches Rhaenyra. "Get away from me!" She pushes him away and takes her hand off Visenya. "I have done this five times before. I do not need a Maester, only rest."

The Grandmaester knows a hopeless cause when he sees one. "Very well, I will return later."

"Just… take her," she inclines her head to Alicent but does not look at her. "Like we said." With some hesitation, Alicent picks up the bundle. Rhaenyra grabs her arm. "Promise me, Alicent."

She seems appropriately shamed. "I promise."

"I'm staying with the Princess," Ser Harrold declares.

"You may not, Ser Harrold. You may not collude alone with her for now."

"It's alright," Rhaenyra reassures him. "I have Rhaenys."

They leave her like that, still standing over the table. Once the door is closed Ser Harrold takes his position in front of it. "You may prohibit me from colluding with her, but no one enters this room without my knowledge."

Alicent does not fight him on this. There are other guards present to guard him after all. But before she leaves he has to ask. He keeps his voice low. "Did you speak truth? About having evidence that Daemon…"

"Yes. The King knew as well. He had it buried."

"Your Grace," the Grandmaester interrupts, "I'm afraid I must insist you see to your father."

"I will… I just, I need to attend to…" she looks down at the bundle in her arms. "Attend to this myself."

"I urge you to hurry then. We may find ourselves needing to use the evidence against Prince Daemon."

"Why?" Ser Harrold cannot restrain himself from responding in unison with the Dowager Queen.

"Scorch marks have been found on the road outside the city. Made from the temperature only dragonfire can reach. When the men searched the area they found bones from several men and horses. Some of the jewelry survived and it matches that of one of the search parties sent after Ser Erryk. Several witnesses attest to seeing the group pursue him down the road."

"Was Ser Erryk's armour among the remains?"

"No."

Ser Harrold channels all his Kingsguard training: he remains stoic and invisible. But this news brings him hope. What Ser Harrold concludes with hope, Alicent does with dread. "So there was a dragon outside Kings Landing last night… And they saved Ser Erryk."

The Grandmaester nods. "They know."

Author's Note

Hi all! Bear with me as I figure out how to navigate this site. I'm an AO3 native who decided to join for those sweet sweet chapter analytics so I'm a bit new to this interface.

The chapters I'm posting right now are Part 1 of a fic I'm currently working on. They're appearing so quickly because they're actually already finished. This fic has four parts, and I've taken a hiatus between part 2 and part 3 to review my previous work and do some much-needed editing. So what you are seeing here are the chapters after I've refined them! There are a total of 35 completed chapters for this fic, and the rest are on their way. Feel free to offer critiques of the writing; that's what I'm here for!

P.S. I'm also in DIRE need of a beta reader. Especially to ensure that readers can understand what's happening and that it's clear who's speaking.

P.P.S. This work gets dark at times, and we embrace dark humour and toxicity here.

The following chapters are already written and are in the process of refinement. Some may get reorganized as I go:

The Black Widow

Prologue: Promise Me

Part 1: Green Council
Canon Divergence
1. Cake —Alicent
2. Promises — Rhaenyra
3. Windows — Alicent
4. Vipers' Nest — Rhaenyra
5. Messages — Jace
6. Secrets I — Rhaenyra
7. Secrets II — Rhaenyra
8. Rogue Agents — Baela
9. The Childbed is Our Battlefield — Alicent
10. The Key to the Seven Kingdoms — Jace

Part 2: Black Queen
Character Arc Divergence
Black / Daemon-centric
1. When the Sea Takes You
2. Not-So-Sleeping Dragons
3. The Princess and the Queen
4. Toddlers on Toy Dragons
5. Dreams Didn't Make Us Kings
6. Black Bride
7. Black Wedding
8. Never Get Involved in a Land War in Essos
9. In Her Honour
10. In Her Name
11. The Last Storm
12. Beware Our Sting
13. Storm's End
14. Playing with Fire
15. Smoking Sea
16. The Queen-in-Chains
17. Aegon's Best Day Ever
18. King Breaker
19. Hearts as Embers
20. Ghostly Flame
21. A Future Promised in Glass I
22. A Future Promised in Glass II
23. Epilogue

Part 3: Storm Queen
Green/Rhaenyra-centric
Coming soon (outlining in progress)
Chapters will update as written

Part 4: Title TBD
The final part
War of the Wife Guys
Consort Crisis
Absolute insanity
Daemon says it's Daemonin time