6 years later - 131 AC
Rhaenyra smiled as she made her way down the stairs and towards the painted table where a scowling Baelon and smirking Baelor stood at attention while Maester Gerardys lectured them in High Velaryon. Near the fireplace, little Viserys giggled as he played with blocks; his governess, speaking to him softly, helped him pick out colours and count the number of blocks.
Ignoring the hole in her heart where her missing children lay, Rhaenyra called out, "Dranot."
"Told you!" Baelor snickered, jumping back when a frustrated Baelon swung at him, his purple eyes alight with irritation. Despite being so close in age and temperament, the pair had always picked at each other. Petty jealousy and rivalries made arguments and spats common as they learned and trained together despite their parents' constant scolding.
"Enough, Baelor. Try again, Baelon." Rhaenyra said, her eyes soft as she came to stand beside her third eldest, her hand coming up to play with his shoulder-length silver curls.
For the next few minutes, Rhaenyra felt at peace as she watched her sons learn under Maester Gerdarys' gentle tutilage. Little Viserys even came to sit on her lap as she sat in one of the many cushioned chairs to rest her pregnancy-swollen feet.
The creaking of the door creaking was what pulled Rhaenyra from her contentment. Looking over, she smiled as Aelyx came strutting towards her, his clothes covered in soot from his adventures in the Dragonmont.
"Kepa!" Viserys cried, holding out his arms and squealing when Aelyx lifted him up, tossing his little frame into the air and catching him with an exaggerated groan. But despite the playful smile on her husband's face, Rhaenyra saw the furrow in his brow and the tension that lined his muscular frame.
"Leave us." She called, smiling as Baelor reached out and took a whining Viserys' hand, leading his younger brother away gently while the maester continued his lecture as they walked.
Once the children were gone, Rhaenyra struggled to her feet, her hand on her belly as she asked, "What is it?"
Silently, Aelyx held out a rolled-up piece of parchment while his eyes levelled on her growing belly, filled with worry. Frowning, Rhaenyra took the parchment and read it silently as her heart began to race.
"Vaemond means to try and depose Baela as Driftmark's heir." She hissed, fury making her face burn hot, "And in doing so, call into question whether or not a woman can be named heir over a male relative. Why? Why would he do this?"
"Because Vaemond is a greedy little cunt. With the Sea Snake wounded and unable to defend himself, he means to make common cause with the Hightowers. Baela technically carries the Targaryen name, and with Laena dead, the succession line becomes much murkier."
"Lord Corlys has always been clear about who he wishes to succeed him. Why else would he keep Baela and Rhaena so close. What about Daemion? Is there any news from him?"
"He fights alongside the Velaryon forces in the Stepstones. With Corlys wounded, he would have assumed leadership. He cannot help us without risking the whole campaign."
"We cannot let this happen. If Vaemond succeeds, he will set a precedent that could threaten our entire family- my inheritance."
"Rhaenys and the girls are flying to King's Landing to meet up with my mother and father. We could join them."
Rhaenyra felt her nose curl at the mention of her good mother; time and space had not doused the flames of resentment she felt towards her Royce aunt. Aelyx frowned as he took in the look on his wife's face, exasperation colouring his tone, "It's been six years, Rhaenyra. You must let it go. Aedan and Alyssa have flourished in their fosterings, and whether you want to admit it or not, my mother was right to send them away."
"She stole our children."
"She gave them opportunities our protectiveness would have deprived them of." Aelyx snapped, "We must be united to fight the Hightowers, or all will be lost. You know this."
Rhaenyra looked mulish as she nodded slowly, her eyes narrowed. "It seems I have no choice in the matter. To King's Landing then."
Line Break *
Seagulls cried as Diana made the final preparations for her estranged family's arrival. Rhaenys, the twins, and Aemond had arrived only a couple days before on dragonback to Queen Alicent's delight. Her prodigal second son had not been in King'slanding since Aegon and Helaena's wedding almost three years prior.
Alicent had been quick to scurry her son away from prying eyes, to replace his black leather riding clothes with her household's emerald green and promenade with him in the sept and other holy places the most pius spent their time. And Aemond, always the dutiful son, followed his mother's lead most willingly, falling back into old habits like the past six years never happened.
It twisted Diana's heart to see how easily the young man could shed the bonds of companionship he'd made on Driftmark, leaving Baela and Rhaena behind to chase his mother's skirts. The only thing that seemed to catch the Targaryen prince's eye was her granddaughter, Jocelyn, newly flowered and beautiful with her golden curls and maturing body.
Diana saw how Aemond's eyes followed her granddaughter, filled with hunger and greed that reminded Diana of a dragon stalking its kill. The pair had always been close as children, but it seemed the six years of absence had not dampened the fire between them. With Jocelyn three and ten years old and recently having flowered, her marriage prospects had been the subject of debate lately; with Aemond only two and a half years her senior and obviously interested, Diana was curious to see what would happen.
The sound of horns trumpeting pulled Diana from her musings. With a curse, she picked up her heavy skirts and raced across the yard to where her family all stood waiting at attention, the Queen and her children noticeably absent from the yard despite Rhaenyra's arrival time being well known to all within the keep.
But despite the apparent slight the Hightowers were attempting to show by not coming to greet the heir to the throne, Diana had managed to muster up her allies within the court for a rather auspicious show of strength. The yard was filled with what had to be half of the nobles of King's Landing, all eager to break bread and make headway with the elusive heir and her army of little princes and princesses who would all be of marriable age within the next few years.
It was comical how easily swayed the nobles were, a whisper here, an idea there, and they scurried like sheep to the closest leader in sight. The chance of a royal marriage was not something one could ignore in the search for power.
Among those in attendance were Lord Beesebury and his wife, Lord Allun Caswell, Lord Merryweather, and Lady Fell, all surrounded by their respective relatives. In the front stood her husband and what remained of her family in King's Landing, Alycia and Tyland to his left, with the children all standing in a row of oldest to youngest, Dahlia at her father's side.
Plastering on a smile, Dahlia ignored the amused smirk Daemon sent her way as she took her place at his side. He'd always revelled in seeing her flustered, much to her annoyance. Before she could chide him or even stomp on his foot like they were children and not fully grown adults with grandchildren, the sound of running feet and fast-approaching carriages pulled everyone's attention to the entrance where multiple carriages carrying the Targaryen banners cantered into view, pulled by two horse teams. As they pulled to a stop, a familiar form in white armour jumped off one of the middle carriages, standing before the doors as the servants and guards scurried to take their proper places.
Ser Laenor Velaryon, who had now served as Rhaenyra's sworn shield for over six and ten years, jumped off the dark destrier he'd ridden into the courtyard and stood before the royal carriage. In his full armour and helmet, he cut an imposing figure as he stood tall and announced, "All hail Rhaenyra of House Targaryen, Princess of Dragonstone and heir to the Iron Throne, and her royal consort, Prince Aelyx Targaryen."
The carriage door creaked open to reveal a heavily pregnant Rhaenyra, who smiled as she took in the crowd waiting to receive her. Calls of greeting and approval filled the air as the nobles proclaimed their loyalty and congratulated the princess on her sixth pregnancy. She was followed closely behind by Aelyx, who watched his wife keenly as Ser Laenor helped her down the steps.
The other carriages opened with less grace as their children lumbered out, giggling and squealing excitedly. When his feet hit the ground, ignoring his governess' calls, little Viserys laughed and ran across the yard into a crouching Daemon's arm, yelling, "Kekepa!"
Smiling at the Valyrian word for Grandfather, Daemon tossed the boy into the air, catching him with an exaggerated grunt as he squealed and kicked his legs, elated at the attention. Switching to High Valyrian, he said, "Who is this then? He cannot be my Viserys; why, my Viserys is only a babe!"
"I'm six, Grandfather!" Viserys howled, squealing anew as Daemon pretended to eat his cheek.
Rhaenyra looked slightly started at the display but smiled as she and Aelyx herded the rest of their children forward, a hand cradling her stomach as she took in the crowd eagerly awaiting her attention.
However, her smile dropped almost imperceptively as her gaze landed on Diana.
Choosing to ignore the tension in the air, Diana watched as Daemon pulled his attention away from a smiling Viserys to call, "Welcome back, Princess. We have missed your presence these past years."
Rhaenyra smiled as she replied, "It's good to be back, Uncle. But I must ask, where is my Father?"
Daemon frowned as his eyes dropped, sorrow filling his face as he replied, "Despite the maesters and the healers my wife brought over from Essos, His Grace's health has steadily declined these past few months. He awaits your arrival in his chambers."
It was true, despite Diana and Daemon's best efforts, the tonics and treatments had done little in the past six months to even slightly hinder Viserys' health decline. In only a month, he'd gone from partial royal duties with biweekly small council meetings to being almost entirely bedridden and confined to his chambers, drunk on milk of the poppy and other anesthetics.
Rhaenyra twitched at Daemon's pointed reminder that Diana and her Essosi healers had handled most of Viserys' health concerns in the past six years. Despite Alicent's whining and continued interference, the Hightowers and grey rats from the Citadel could not argue with the positive results of the Royce Princess' interference.
"Well then, we mustn't keep him waiting. My lady's maids will take the children to our chambers while Aelyx and I visit the King." Rhaenyra replied before addressing the crowd, "We thank all of you for your continued support. The King would be proud to see how his loyal bannermen support his heir."
"Here, here!"
"All Hail the Princess!"
"The Realms Delight!"
"Hart's Bane!"
Applause and cheers accompanied the royal family as they made their way into the keep, smiling and waving until the cacophony of sound was abruptly cut off by the slamming of the heavy wooden door behind them.
Rhaenyra took the lead, with Aelyx on her heels, the rest of the party following behind. The maids quickly hustled the little princes and princesses away to their arranged quarters in Maegor's Holdfast, leaving the adults to continue toward the King's chambers.
Rhaenyra slowed down as she examined the details of the Seven-Pointed Star wall decoration. Her eyes narrowed, and she muttered, "I would say it's nice to be home, but I scarcely recognize it."
The new decorations were one of many changes the Hightowers had made since Otto and Alicent had named themselves Viserys' regent when his illness proved too much for royal duties. And with Rhaenyra off on Dragonstone, too angry with her father to return to the capital, there was no one to refuse them.
Daemon kept his place as the Lord Commander of the City Watch only because Viserys was still lucid enough to ask for monthly updates from his advisors, and Diana… well, she had a seat at the table but rarely received an invitation. Otto and his ilk had taken to having secret meetings in the Tower of the Hand, away from prying eyes and ears, where Diana's spies could only get scraps of information, often too late for her to make any actual interventions, much to the princess' irritation.
"Yes, Her Grace was very proud of the new decorations she had commissioned last year for her thirty and fifth nameday celebration." Daemon snarled, his sarcasm evident as he glared at what he saw as foreign heresies.
"And you, in all your power as brother to the king and Lord Commander, could not stop her?" Rhaenyra asked, her lip curling in disgust, "Or are your wife's spies so ineffective that you found out as it was happening?"
Daemon's eyes narrowed at the reticule his niece so carelessly threw at his wife. Diana's hand on his chest stopped the Rogue Prince from no doubt telling the heir precisely what he thought of her little temper tantrum these past six years.
Ignoring the disapproving look Daemon sent her way, Diana replied to Rhaenyra's jab, "No matter how much we wish it isn't so, Alicent is the queen. To defy her is to commit treason, and with Otto at her side and Viserys on bed rest, there was little Daemon and could do without support."
"And whose support is that?"
"Yours, the heir to the Iron Throne." With that final rebuttal, Diana picked up her skirts, took her husband's arm and began walking towards the King's Chambers.
Line Break *
The rest of the trek through the glaringly empty corridors to the King's Chambers was silent as Rhaenyra took in all the changes since her self-imposed exile to Dragonstone. Where there were once tapestries filled with naked forms, and Dragonfire now hung the Seven Gods and their myths.
Standing outside the chamber doors stood two Kingsguard, Lord Commander Harrold Westerling on one side and one of the Cargyll twins on the other. The aging commander smiled when he saw Princess Rhaenyra approach; both knights bowed their heads low as she came to stand before them, hands clasped on her growing stomach.
"Princess, welcome home," Ser Westerling said reverently, holding the doors open for the royals to enter.
"Thank you, ser; it's good to be home," Rhaenyra said, the lie as sweet as honey on her lips as she put on her princess facade.
The rooms were hauntingly silent as they stepped inside; the furniture and Valyrian model Viserys spent decades obsessing over covered in a thick layer of dust. The room was dark and dank, the curtains kept shut to avoid causing another of the king's debilitating headaches.
When the healers' treatments stopped working, Alicent had them all shipped off to a place only the gods knew, citing their failure to cure the king as a reason for doing so. Only the Grand Maester and his apprentices saw to the king now, and their negligence was apparent by the state of the rooms the slowly dying man lived in.
Diana's nose wrinkled as she looked at the mess the maesters and maids who cared for the king had left behind. On a whim, she began clearing the floor of discarded clothing, allowing a tearful Rhaenyra and Aelyx to go ahead to where Viserys lay in bed. The smell of decay permeated the room.
Soft voices filtered through as Rhaenyra sat at her father's side, Aelyx's hand on her shoulder, and they tried and failed to keep Viserys lucid enough to understand everything that had happened regarding Driftmark.
Daemon remained silent as he observed his wife fuss over the mess. His eyes were downcast and filled with sorrow as he listened to his brother moan in pain, begging for the vile tea the maesters forced down his throat every hour.
Finally, after what felt like forever, the king fell back into a fitful sleep once more. With quiet steps, Rhaenyra and Aelyx stepped out from behind the curtains that hid the bed, their faces ashen and eyes full of questions.
Daemon let out a loud sigh as he allowed himself to fall bonelessly into a nearby settee, pulling Diana down with him. Their arms interlocked, they watched Rhaenyra begin to pace.
"He looks dead already. What the hells have the maesters been doing to him?" Rhaenyra demanded, eyes flashing with indignant fury, "How can they let him live like this? He is the King of the Seven Kingdoms!"
"Perhaps we should consult with Maester Gerardys." Aelyx said, trying to soothe his wife's fury, "He may have an alternative course of treatment to sugg-"
His words were cut off as the door to the chamber swung open to reveal a slightly frazzled-looking Queen Alicent, clothed head to toe in green, her long brown hair pulled back into a severe-looking bun and a seven-pointed star gleaming on her chest.
"Princess Rhaenyra and Prince Daemon, it has been so long since we were granted the joy of your presence," Alicent said, her gaze locked on the prominent scar on Rhaenyra's forearm.
Rhaenyra frowned as she moved her arm to cover the scar, "Yes, it has. Although not so long that you could welcome us at the gate."
"My love," Aelyx murmured, "No doubt the queen had many pressing issues to deal with. We mustn't be too harsh on her."
"Ah, yes, what could we know of ruling a kingdom?" Rhaenyra hissed, her false niceties clearly hitting their mark as Alicent's ever-present frown deepened in response.
"I do not rule, as you well know." Alicent replied, "My father and I are mere stewards of the King's will and wisdom."
The queen's gaze darted to the king's bed, where Viserys still slept, her eyes filling with sorrow as she took in the husk that used to be her husband.
Daemon laughed sardonically, his almost childish giggle filling the room as he chortled, "And how does he do that? With grunts and wheezes? Perhaps a game of charades?"
"King Viserys's condition has worsened since you saw him last. It subjects him to considerable pain. On the advice of the maesters…" Alicent blathered on, ignoring the chuckles and sounds of discontent her words inspired in her audience.
"Ah, the maesters." Rhaenyra cut in, stepping forward, "Of course. It is they who keep him… addled on milk of the poppy while the Hightowers warm his throne."
Alicent rolled her eyes as if she were speaking to a wayward child, muttering, "Rhaenyra, if you would see him without it, almost blind with suffering."
"And whose fault is that I wonder?" Rhaenyra snarled. "From all accounts, my aunt's healers were able to not only soothe my father's pain but slow the progression of the disease, and yet, I see none of them here. No, only the maesters."
"The healers proved too costly with so few results; the Hand and I thought it best if they spent their time on other ventures, away from the king," Alicent replied, brown eyes flashing with arrogance.
"Oh, Alicent… for the King's suffering, did the maesters also prescribe the removal of Targaryen heraldry and the installation in its stead of various statues and stars?" Aelyx asked, his usually calm and relaxed attitude gone in the face of the queen's lack of respect. In its place stood a dragon ready to pounce.
It seemed the queen saw this change, going by how her face paled slightly when faced off with the behemoth consort of her biggest rival, "The emblems of the Seven serve only to guide us on an uncertain path. To remind us of a higher authority."
"And on the morrow, which authority will sit in judgment of my niece's claim on her own inheritance?" Rhaenyra asked, her hands clasped protectively over her bulging stomach.
The queen's lips quirked upward as she said, "That would be mine… and the Hands. But be assured, the Father is just and commands me to forget the accusations you have hurled in this room today." With that final blow, the queen turned on her heel and marched away toward a scowling Cole, who stood waiting to escort her. The heavy thud of the door punctuated their exit.
Line Break *
The Godswood was empty, save for the two figures in blue standing next to the Godswood Tree, its carved face dripping with red sap. Rhaenys stood tall, her black hair streaked with silver pulled up into an intricate updo, her gown stitched with silver seahorses to honour her husband's house.
Next to her stood Baela, with her silver curls hanging freely around her face and in a dark blue gown with black and silver trim, a simple yet elegant look for the young heiress. Both grandmother and grandchild were deep in murmured conversation when Rhaenyra and her entourage arrived.
Daemon had opted out of joining Rhaenyra, Diana, and Aelyx on their little excursion to convince Rhaenys to join their cause. His patience for politics had long since run out. Instead, he went off to check in on his grandchildren and ensure they remained unbothered by the Greens and their antics.
"Princess Rhaenys, I hoped we would see each other in more hospitable times," Rhaenyra said, standing before the stone-faced older woman. Rhaenys had always been a skeptic and had made her feelings known about Viserys naming his daughter as heir and how dangerous she believed that was.
In her eyes, the realm had already made their feelings about a woman heir known, and the lords of the Seven Kingdoms would sooner revolt than suffer under a Queen's rule. But despite that, she'd championed her own daughter and granddaughter as heir to Driftmark, making common cause with Rhaenyra and her faction in the process.
But that didn't mean she approved of Rhaenyra and her lack of political awareness.
"I as well, Princess Rhaenyra. I hope the journey was comfortable for you and the little prince or princess in your womb." Rhaenys replied, her words cold and to the point.
"As comfortable as possible. The seas were gentle, the winds kind. My servants tell me that we beat Ser Vaemond by mere hours. He's currently in the Tower of the Hand, colluding with the Hightowers on how to best steal your granddaughter's birthright."
Rhaenys' face did not flinch as she looked over Rhaenyra's shoulder to where Ser Laenor stood at attention, unable to break formation without verbal permission, "I see my son, and yet he does not greet me. Do me the kindness, Princess?"
"Of course. Ser Laenor?" was all Rhaenyra said. Her face filled with impatience as Rhaenys hugged her son close, checked him over thoroughly, and made everyone else in attendance wait.
Diana rolled her eyes and then stepped forward and said, "As entertaining as this is, Rhaenys, we must devise a plan to impede Vaemond's treachery."
Rhaenys' smile dropped as Laenor stepped back at Diana's word to fall back into formation behind Rhaenyra, his vows and loyalty clear. Looking at a frowning Baela, she replied, "And what plan would that be? With Alicent and Otto as judges, there is no way for us to win. Vaemond will be named Lord of the Tides by the end of the day. There is nothing you or I can do about it."
"Then why are you here?" Aelyx asked, voice sharp with anger, "Why not stay hidden away on Driftmark if that's how you feel?"
"Because, Aelyx, Driftmark is my home, and I will not let it slip away to my cunt of a good brother without a fight. I, like you, will make my feelings known to the court. Corlys named Baela as the next Lady of the Tides, and if Vaemond tries to take it from her, he will meet Meleys' fire."
"You would go to war for Baela's birthright?" Rhaenyra asked, shocked. Rhaenys had always been the level-headed one between her and Corlys, advising peace and compromise whenever possible.
"Would you not do the same for your child? Or future grandchildren?"
"Yes, I would. As I would for my niece, hence my presence here today," Rhaenyra replied. After a moment of contemplation, her face filled with confidence, and she announced, "And to prove that to you, let me offer you this: betroth Baela to my son Baelor. She would have a dragon-riding consort willing to allow their heir to carry the Velaryon name."
Rhaenys raised an eyebrow as she looked at a smiling Baela, who had always been close with her Dragonstone cousins. "A most generous offer, Princess. I will need some time to consider it. Baela, come."
And with that, the 'Queen Who Never Was' was gone, leaving a frustrated Rhaenyra in her wake.
Scowling, Aelyx muttered to an embarrassed-looking Laenor, "That woman can never make anything easy, can she?"
"Unfortunately not, my Prince."