Chapter Five: Maximum Cluster-cluck and Aftermath.
Seventeenth Day of the Forth Month, 109 AC.
The tension was thick in the room, like knife-cutting thick. It was as if the universe was daring someone to have the balls to try and speak. Regrettably, I did not have said balls and was currently crushing Rhaenyra's hand with my own, a favor she was returning. I didn't need to look to know that both of our knuckles were bone white.
Finally Rhaenyra worked herself up enough to speak, "Father, I-"
"You took your brother to the Dragon Pit," Viserys cut her off. Holy shit, that was the voice of the man that had an entire family's tongues ripped out. Every syllable was said slowly, growled out and layered with mounting, restrained anger.
"Father I can expl-" Rhaenyra was cut off again.
"You took your brother to the Dragon Pit," Viserys repeated in the same tone. I was surprised that he wasn't letting smoke out of his nostrils and spitting fire from how the look of him. "Why?"
The word was a question, a threat, a condemnation and an order in one.
To her credit, Rhaenyra did not shy away from the baleful glare she was being subjected to, "I wanted to show him the dragons."
"You wanted to show him the dragons?" Alicent hissed, her sharp eyes narrowing in on Rhaenyra as if to blink her out of existence. "You wanted to show a boy, of little more than two years, dragons? Do you expect us to-"
She was cut off when Viserys raised a hand to silence her. He looked over to her and softened his features ever so slightly.
"My queen, our child," he softly reached over and patted her pregnant belly. She looked at him and nodded before taking a deep breath and very deliberately softening her features, even if her eyes were still like Wildfire in their contempt for Rhaenyra.
Some might consider the exchange charming, I found it infuriating. He had a spine. He had a spire and could scare the hell out of both of them. Where is that spine when it matters? Did he miraculously survive an encounter with the Predator?
"Now," he turned back to Rhaenyra with his face rapidly hardening again. "Explain to me why you thought taking a child to the Dragon Pit was acceptable?"
"H-he likes dragons," she said, although the twitch in her expression made it clear that she was well aware that she had screwed up.
"He has barely more than two years," the King said slowly as if Rhaenyra was the small child rather than me.
"But-" Rhaenyra said.
"Do not speak again unless you have something reasonable to say," the King snapped.
"I would never allow harm to come to Gaemon!" Rhaenyra said with certainty.
That softened the king's features slightly, I guess any point towards family cooperation was a positive in his book.
"It is not issue of your intention, my girl," He smiled just a little. "There are things that you should know not to do."
"But Gaem loves dragons! Grand Maester Runciter said so."
Wait what?
"Unlikely," the Hand said, speaking for the first time. He looked vaguely amused by what he saw as Rhaenyra's desperate attempt to clear herself of blame. Not that an upper-middle aged man had any business doing that to a young girl. "The boy has never even left the Keep, he would never have seen a dragon before, much less have an opinion about them."
"Actually, my lord," Runciter said with a cough, drawing all eyes in the room to him and his thin and wheezy voice. "The boy shows an uncanny fascination with them."
"Grand Maester," The king frowned. "Explain."
"The prince… I am not certain how to describe it. He is brilliant your grace," the Grand Maester said as he shot me a pleased look. A single thought raced across my mind at his smile.
Oh hell no, I screamed internally. Don't throw me under the bus Runciter! Ser Criston! Throw him under the bus! Wait buses don't exist here. Defenestration! Talk about how he should volunteer to test the virtues of defenestration!
But no one heard my mental pleading.
"Explain," the King asked again, tapping a finger impatiently on the armrest of his chair. Suddenly I was very interested in redirecting focus onto Rhaenyra.
"Well your grace, he is learning quickly," Runciter said graspingly as he struggled for the right words.
No, no, no.
"He is a child," Otto said dryly. "They've been known to learn quickly."
"No, my Lord Hand," Runciter corrected, his face growing more animated as he went on. "His nannies report that they have never heard him cry, he deliberately signals for attention and he can even read."
"What?" The king asked with concern. "The lad can read?"
No, no, no. Quick Ser Criston! Kill yourself and draw attention before we arrive into devil child territory.
"Yes your grace and has been attempting to do so for at least a year prior, if his caretakers are to be believed. At a year old he understood enough to request Barth's work." Runciter was the only one that seemed pleased with the revelation because the rest looked more than a little concerned.
"He has read Barth's history?" Otto asked with vague interest, curiosity momentarily distracting him from his mission of punishing Rhaenyra.
"No Lord Hightower," Runciter said quickly. "But he did gesture towards it and seems to greatly enjoy my reading to him. He is also abnormally receptive to new words, I would wager that he can understand a great deal of our words at this very moment."
And like that all eyes turned towards me, bright side. Rhaenyra's hand eased up quite a bit in relief.
"He threatened to have a hand taken from the guard that attempted to separate him from the princess," Lord Strong added.
Screw you buddy, not as severely as Cole perhaps but pretty bad.
"What?" the King's head whipped up to the Master of Laws. "Are you certain?"
"He said so quite clearly, your grace," Lord Strong confirmed. "He is exceedingly well enunciated actually."
Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit.
"What is wrong with the child?" The king asked no one in particular.
Alright damage control, quick. Need a bullshit excuse. Umm, umm.
My mind wound into overdrive as the situation turned on me. I tried to think of what to do or say to ward off suspicion. The problem was that the suspicion was not only there but supported. Staying silent would be suspicious, my acting could not stand up to scrutiny and I did not really know how to cry on command.
Lacking any other alternative…
"Am I strange?" I asked as innocently and as clearly as I could.
The room went dead silent for a moment. Felt at least a dozen and a half sets of eyes burning into me from several directions. I portrayed myself as innocently nervous as I could.
I had to demurely pretend to be as confused as possible to play it off correctly.
"No," a voice said beside me. I looked up and saw Rhaenyra smiling down at me.
She reached down and hugged me, "No my little knight. You are just perfect."
As she was passing her hand through my hair three things became apparent.
One: either Rhaenyra had built up some genuine affection towards my or was trying to turn the situation to her advantage by playing the loving big sister. Hell if I knew which.
Second: Cole looked as if he would gladly castrate himself in exchange for the ability to smash my face in. To be fair, I would not mind doing the same to him.
Third: It was actually kind of nice to be patted like this which being somewhat of an old man, was an uncomfortable thing to admit to.
"Indeed," Alicent added with a… strange expression. She looked quite frankly like she felt that Rhaenyra had stolen her role in our little tableau. "You are fine as you are my sweet little boy. A bit of strangeness is surely not the worst thing is that not right, your grace?"
Viserys looked at Alicent and Rhaenyra before nodding, "You are correct, my love."
It looked like the man would happily hug a meatgrinder if it meant finding a point of agreement between his wife and daughter.
"However," Ser Otto said. "That the boy is strange remains an issue."
The man looked at me with his full attention. "Tell me boy, why do you care so much about dragons?"
I looked at him as innocently as I could while internally wanting to throw him into a pit of snakes (along with Ser Criston). "I wanted to know more about the dreams."
"What dreams my boy?" The Grand Maester asked.
"The dreams," I repeated. When no one spoke again I tilted my head in askance. "You know, the ones with the dragons and the strange people and the fire?"
That left them more confused, which was perfect. I just needed to give them a few more bread crumbs and they'd arrive at the right conclusion.
"Hmm," the Grand Maester murmured as he began scratching his beard. "I suspect I have a notion of what might be occurring your grace."
"I would hope so Runciter," Viserys spoke through his left hand which he had long since brought up to massage his forehead.
"There are tales of some in Valyria who were gifted with dreams of a most unusual sort," Runciter eyed me with fascination. As he did I noticed his spare hand was holding a link in his chain, one of a dark and smoky metal.
"Like Daenys the Dreamer?" Alicent commented with a curious look on her face. Well that had been unexpected, I never read any mention of Alicent Hightower having any interest in the Targaryen lineage. Still, if it put her on the right track then more power to her. "The gods play a cruel joke on us then."
I… I didn't get that reference.
"Hardly, your grace. It was her dreams that saved House Targaryen from the Doom," Runciter noted. "However, if it is the case that the young prince is gifted to such a degree as to advance his development to such a degree, I could only speculate at what he might be able to achieve. It is quite fascinating."
"'Fascinating' is one word for it, Grand Maester," Otto noted. "Worrisome is another. I do not put much stock in the legends of old Valyria but there is no denying that the boy is odd."
"I agree, Lord Strong," Viserys looked to his Master of Laws. "I do not wish for word of the incident to spread. Am I understood?"
"Yes, you grace," the lord of Harenhal nodded. "I already had the men in question put in holding until they can be reminded that they misheard the prince."
Points for competence. It made him a potential problem but points nonetheless.
"Thank you," The king nodded before addressing the room at large. "Word of my son's… gift will not leave this room, is that understood?"
Everyone in the room nodded at the command, although I noted that some did so with noticeably more hesitance than others.
"Might I suggest the boy begins his lessons with me soon, your grace?" Runciter suggested with enthusiasm.
"I have no objections," the king said before refocusing on Rhaenyra who stiffened once more. "Regardless of your brother's condition Rhaenyra, it does not excuse what you have done. An interest in dragons is not the same as facing one much less placing a small infant on one."
Fortunately, it seems that the whole affair had largely drained the room of the tension and rage about Rhaenyra's indiscretion since instead of angry growls, VIserys had adopted a more lecturing tone.
I noticed the Hightowers were notably less mollified, Otto more than Alicent whom was somewhat busy still burning into me with her concerned stare. That was the look of a mother about to go into full helicopter mode. Great.
"I have no excuses father," Rhaenyra dipped her head down in apology. "I was reckless and short-sighted."
"You will succeed me someday," the king noted firmly. Interestingly Otto bristled more than Alicent did at the king's words. He had probably hoped to use this whole mess to keep pushing for a change in the succession. "A ruler may not be subject to their baser instinct."
"It cannot be helped your grace," Ser Otto said. "Women are rather unable to restrain themselves."
Holy father of misogyny! Who the actual hell would say something like that? With their own daughter in the room no less? No way in hell I was letting that crap past the radar.
"Regardless," Viserys reaffirmed with an edge of warning in his voice. "You are forbidden from taking your brother out of the Keep. I will not forbid you from seeing him given your clear attachment but be warned that should you engage in such foolishness again. Some matters will be revisited."
On one hand, I was glad I didn't get my bridge burned but on the other it was kind of ironic that Viserys would talk about restraint considering his entire life's story.
Still, I was glad to be done with the whole affair and did not even complain when Nessa gave me a crushing hug when I was returned to the nursery. My primary caretaker seemed to have caught word of what had happened because the young woman's eyes showed the obvious sign of crying recently.
I fell into a nap after that.
Life got complicated after that in both positive and problematic way. On the positive, I could now largely avoid the more apparent dangers of being too advanced for my age.
I began undergoing basic lessons under Runciter as well which was, well it was certainly interesting. The old Maester opted to start testing me in every subject on an advanced level to clarify how rapidly I had 'advanced' in different areas such as history, language, mathematics, etc.
I still tried to make a few mistakes here and there, but I still weighed in enough to move passed most of what I already knew. Which saw me end up being lectured on fluff about 'Planetos' for hours on end, which of course made me more than a little happy to say the least.
Sadly, my life was not a complete fan-gasm. I still had a problematic reputation in the Red Keep. I honestly wondered if Viserys was naïve beyond recognition or if he was just trying to mitigate the damage. Servants gossiped and sooner or later I became one of the many topics of discussion in and around the castle. By and large it seemed that the previous divide was still there, the less I interacted with a servant the more they were unnerved by me.
Case in point, my nannies seemed to be bordering on smothering me with affection yet those who brought my meals and traded old beddings for new ones seemed as if they were deliberately going out of their way to avoid eye contact.
Even smiling did not seem to help much since it only made them quicken their steps.
Still, I made an effort. I tried to be helpful where I could and as friendly as I could manage but it largely did not really stick.
On a far more positive note was that Otto 'the dick' Hightower was not around anymore. Sadly, he and Ser Criston had not opted for double-suicide but at least he was gone (and almost a year ahead of schedule!). It was far from a surprise however given that he was an even bigger annoyance than in the canon I would wager with Alicent being a little bit distracted and not as able to provide support. Which fortunately resulted in things following canon and him heckling Viserys one time too many.
Not that I was crazy about his replacement mind you. My predictions were right about the new hand, the man was too canny by half. Every time I saw him I felt as if the man was giving me a full physical with his eyes which unnerved me in the extreme. If I took one step out of line I knew that word would reach him and by him I meant the king.
The king who had been quite happy to resume his ignoring my existence once I was no longer interrupting his endless parties (honestly it spoke volumes of how much of a wastrel Robert was in canon if he had driven the Realm to ruin while it could shrug Viserys off without harm). He did seem anymore than marginally interested in me, asking after my progress whenever he happened upon me to whomever I was with. He was much more interested in his never-ending quest to avoid the potential catastrophe that his reign was building towards.
Speaking of said catastrophe, I seemed to have become a sticking point for Alicent and Rhaenyra in the worst conceivable way.
Becoming a new theatre in their little war of influence.
Alicent seemed to have perceived my closeness with Rhaenyra as a challenge, that or she took it as a sign of her drifting too far from one of her children. Regardless of which it was she had ended up going full helicopter as I had guessed. My guards were her creatures, I was sure of that beyond a doubt. I ate with her at every meal and she carefully spoke to me, she lectured me on Valyria oddly enough, more oddly was that most of what she said seemed in line with what I knew already but it still impresses on me what I already knew. I had known that Alicent was very far from a stupid woman, morally dubious perhaps but not stupid but I was shocked by how bright she was in matters that had almost nothing to do with court.
Then there was the case of my new sister.
Oh, and I guess I had sisters, a plural now.
Helaena had been born right on schedule and with minimal complications, joy.
Wait… that sounded wrong.
I do not mean to say that I am unhappy about her being born or that Alicent (who for better or worse was my mother now) came through it without issue, but it did have concerning implications.
From a genetic point of view the slightest change should have completely rerolled the dice and changed who was born. That was still possible at this point and the name was just a coincidence. If it stuck however that meant 'fate' (for lack of a better word) needed to be actively pushed against to change. That meant that it would be difficult to mitigate the eventual war without taking a very active footing and if I did that could mean a worse fate for Westeros. Worse yet, it could impact my chances for survival.
It was this concern that also led to actively seeking to influence Aegon.
We were twins after all and he was still very inclined to stick to me even if my treatment and his were drastically different. It seemed to be to the relief of those aware in the court that Aegon was a normal child even if he seemed a bit slothful and temperamental. I did my best to attempt to curb those habits of course given the amount of time we had to ourselves. I was failing but damned if I was going to give up.
Lastly, were my ever-increasing visits to the Dragon Pit with the Grand Maester and several dozen goldcloaks. Apparently, the king (oh who am I kidding, it was probably Alicent) reasoned that he might as well give me a more gradual exposure to them, I didn't mind since it gave me more time to try and win over Rhaenys. The Queen Who Never was seemed to take everything about me in stride, so I figured that I might as well try to get on her good side as best I could. Fortunately, no one let me within a close proximity to one of the giant fire-cat-lizards of doom.
I was very much of the mind that any moment in which I let my guard down was the moment that I would be screwed beyond all sanity and recognition.
I refused to become dragon chow.
Or be poisoned.
Or burned.
Or cut to pieces.
Or some twisted combination of all of the above.
So I studied. I worked to win people over. I meticulously made notes of what I could gleam from my dreams. And I tried to steer my new family from laying the foundations for events that could eventually doom Westeros and more importantly me.
And so days, gave way to weeks which yielded to months and before I knew it two years had passed. Then came my forth nameday.
Bright side, plague had yet to kill me.