"My father has made some worrying allegations about you," Alicent said.
"You father regularly makes large things that are minor and diminishes matters of importance, so long as it serves his purpose," Rhaenyra countered as she rolled her eyes, "whatever it may be that day."
"Were you with your uncle last night?" Alicent asked.
Rhaenyra chuckled.
"Is he to be my alibi in innocence or a party to my crime?" she asked, amused. "Uncle always brings me gifts from his travels, and I enjoy his company beyond that, whenever I am blessed to have it. This time he took me out into the city."
"Tell me the whole of it Rhaenyra," Alicent demanded.
"Has your father accused me of something?" Rhaenyra asked, amused by it all. "What? That I drank wine? Left the castle after dark?"
Alicent pinched her lips a moment.
"That you fucked Daemon in a pleasure house," Alicent accused in a whisper.
Rhaenyra blinked in shock, then started laughing.
"It is not funny, Rhaenyra!" Alicent insisted.
"Oh but it is," Rhaenyra assured her once-friend. "A fine laugh, alas a lie."
"Truly?" Alicent pressed, desperate. "You Targaryens do have queer customs, and Daemon certainly knows no limit."
"I assure you he does, it is merely different to what you would have it be. Oh, and that is a vile accusation that I just might be able to get your father's head removed for," Rhaenyra added with an arched brow and a much less amused twist to her smirk.
"What?" Alicent very nearly yelped.
"Speaking slander of the heir to the throne," Rhaenyra tutted and shook her head. "No. Uncle took me to the pleasure house so that I wouldn't fear the marriage bed, given all that happened to my mother. You remember her? The woman who died in childbed before you took her place? Then had the gall to claim to me that it 'wasn't that bad really'?" she poked mercilessly with her words.
Alicent swallowed tightly, tucked in her chin, and lowered her eyes.
"We went in and watched a while. I got a much more thorough education on what goes on in the marriage bed in five minutes in that place than I have in five years of lessons from the septas. Then we left. He took me to visit a midwife too, so that she could answer my questions about the birthing bed. Beyond my uncle not letting go of my hand, so no other patrons thought I was merchandise they could hire for the night themselves, we barely even touched," Rhaenyra explained frankly.
Alicent's shoulders sagged in relief.
Rhaenyra's, however, stiffened.
"Your father did not tell this only to you, did he?" she asked. "He told my father."
Alicent nodded, confusion on her features.
Rhaenyra grabbed up her skirts and ran towards the throne room. That was sure to be where her father was confronting her uncle about the previous evening. He would feel the location best to reinforce his own position as king over Daemon.
"Princess…" Ser Harrold started as he moved to bar her way into the throne room.
"Let me in before my father does something I will make him regret," Rhaenyra commanded.
The two Kingsguard bowed their heads, and Ser Harrold opened the door for her.
"Father!" Rhaenyra snapped out when she saw him poised over her uncle – who was laid out on the floor – Aegon's dagger in his hand.
"Rhaenyra?" Viserys said, and straightened – mercifully raising the dagger from where he had hovered far too near to Daemon's neck. "What are you doing here?"
"I have just had a conversation with Alicent about Otto's slanderous nonsense," Rhaenyra answered as she marched down the stairs from the door and into the throne room proper. "Then I realised that Otto wouldn't have merely poured his poison into her ear, but yours as well, which could potentially end badly for my uncle."
"He has ruined you, Rhaenyra!" Viserys snapped.
"He has done nothing of the sort!" Rhaenyra snapped back. She took a deep breath and resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "All gods, I just had this conversation with Alicent and now I must repeat everything."
"I am sorry for all this, sweet niece," Daemon offered, from where he remained on the floor.
"You had no reason to believe the Hand was committing treason by having me spied upon," Rhaenyra answered, waving the apology off easily, "nor that he would further his treason by spreading slander based on whatever his spies told him."
"Otto would never -" Viserys began.
"But he has," Rhaenyra cut him off. "Daemon provided me with a disguise and took me out of the Red Keep and into the city, that much is true. We drank some wine, we watched some shows, ate street food. Then Uncle Daemon took me to a pleasure house."
Viserys tightened his grip on his dagger, and turned from her towards his brother, anger clear on his face.
"Because," Rhaenyra snapped out, demanding her father's attention remain fixed on her and not her uncle, "I had expressed to my beloved uncle my fears and general distaste for marriage, and in particular the marriage bed."
Viserys turned to face her once more, face slack with surprise.
"Given what happened to Mother, I do not think I can be blamed for my reservations," Rhaenyra pointed out, one eyebrow raised in expectation that her father understand just what she was getting at there.
He did grimace in understanding. Good. It might have been years, and he might have recovered from the loss, but Rhaenyra still held the memories of her mother's trials and travails very clearly in her head.
Her uncle's eyes were just as soft with sympathy now as they had been when she had first spoken to him on the subject the afternoon before. Daemon had cared for Aemma as his good-sister, and also knew Rhaenyra's pain of losing a mother to childbed. Daemon's baby brother had just lived a year, to Baelon's single day.
"We sat and watched for five minutes," Rhaenyra explained. "Uncle held my hand, so no other patrons would approach us, and explained all that was going on. To alleviate my fears. Then he took me to a midwife who could answer my questions about childbed. He then escorted me home again. As untouched as when we left, if better educated."
Viserys sighed, gratified, and finally sheathed his dagger.
"So. Otto either personally spied upon us, or had others do so," Rhaenyra continued. "Either of which is treason, Father, and you cannot get around that."
Viserys winced, and on the floor, Daemon grinned.
"And then took a little truth – that, yes, Uncle Daemon and I were in a pleasure house – and twisted it in such a way as to either ruin me, ruin my uncle, or both," she pressed further. "Slander against the declared heir to the Iron Thrown, to whom oaths of loyalty have been very publicly given. That does count as treason too, does it not, Father?"
"Yes," Viserys admitted unhappily.
"So, that is two counts of treason," Rhaenyra chirped, satisfied. "One might see him stripped of his position as Hand and exiled, but two? Surely he should lose either his lying tongue or his head entire."
Viserys winced.
"Otto essentially called me my uncle's naive little whore, Father," Rhaenyra said bluntly. "Will you let him get away with it, as you have allowed his slander against my uncle all these years? Shall I step aside as heir now, as so many expected when Aegon was born? Or will you actually defend us, your family, for once?"
Viserys flinched at the accusations that were now being levelled against him.
"And will you apologise to Uncle Daemon for your actions and accusations this morning?" Rhaenyra demanded next. "He is ceratinly owed them."
Viserys's grimace of distaste was not well disguised at all as he winced, and finally moved away from standing over his brother.
Cautiously, Daemon shifted so that he was sitting, rather than lying on the floor. A moment more, to be sure he would not be attacked again, and he stood. His face twisted in pain as he did so, and a hand flew to his side.
"Are you injured, Uncle?" Rhaenyra asked, worried, and hurried to his side so that she could help him to stand.
"Your father's boot managed to find some of my wounds from the Stepstones that are still healing," Daemon admitted, hand still covering his side.
Rhaenyra's eyes widened at the admission, and as her uncle was still in only his sleep-wear, having been very obviously dragged from his bed for this 'conversation' with her father, she was able to force the sleep-shirt up and bare the injuries to her sight.
"Niece!" Daemon yelped.
"Rhaenyra!" Viserys exclaimed at the same time.
"Uncle," Rhaenyra said softly as her fingers hovered above the bandages that were wrapped around his torso.
Daemon sighed.
"Arrows," he admitted in answer to the unspoken question. "The Crab Feeder was unfortunately very well stocked for arrows, and a few found their mark. More by luck than skill of the archer, but luck or skill makes no difference once the arrow has hit you. Fear not, sweet niece. I have been seen to by a far more skilled and knowledgeable healer than any maester. I shall be completely well in a moon turn."
Rhaenyra sighed in relief, and released her uncle's sleep-shirt to cover the bandages once more. Then she turned to her father.
"I am waiting," she said.
"Waiting?" Viserys echoed.
"For you to apologise to Uncle," Rhaenyra reminded him, and glanced back at Daemon. "And don't you go forgiving Father until after he has apologised!" she instructed firmly.
Daemon swiftly raised his hands in surrender to his resolved niece, and bowed his head in capitulation to her.
"Ugh!" Rhaenyra growled in disgust. "You have already forgiven him. Well, Father, that just leaves your part?" she prompted.
"I…" Viserys started, then sighed. "I'm sorry, Brother. I should not have abused you so."
"Well, it's a start," Rhaenyra allowed. "Do not forget that you also owe Uncle Daemon thanks, Father, not just apologies. You can start by finally granting that annullment he has been requesting, oh, only all my life," she said pointedly.
Viserys nodded, defeated.
Rhaenyra smiled brightly.
"Wonderful. We can go to the Small Council Chambers and sort that matter right now, as well as the matter of Otto," she declared as she linked one arm with her father's. "While Uncle Daemon goes to break his fast and dress, since he was so rudely dragged out of bed this morning."
"Brother, when you remove Otto from his position as Hand, perhaps you should consider giving the post to your daughter instead," Daemon said with a weak chuckle.
~The End~