The King's Feast 18: Viserys IV
My brother could not be so cruel as to plot to despoil his niece just so he can take her for his bride.
Whatever the truth of it, that is what Daemon had told him.
After hearing Alicent's defence of Rhaenyra, Viserys had summoned his brother to the throne room to confront him of the events that took place the night before.
She constantly vouches for Rhaenyra's innocence; I hope she is correct this time too.
However, regardless of whether Rhaenyra was sullied or not, the rumours could not be allowed to spread, as it would ruin any possible hope of a good marriage for her.
"Yes, brother. I fucked Rhaenyra, all night long, in seven different positions. She is despoiled, I admit it." Daemon laughed, laying below the gangling shadow of the throne.
Viserys punched his brother in the face, then kicked him in the balls, and punched him again in the face.
"You have ruined my daughter! What lord shall take her for marriage now!?" Viserys shouted, giving him a kick in the ribs.
"No... but if no lord should take… I shall." Groaned Daemon.
Viserys punched him in the face another time, spilling bright red blood on the cold cobbled stone floor.
"You are already married, fool!"
"I shall take a second..." he wheezed. "As did our ancestor, Aegon the Conqueror, did... in the true style of House Targaryen…"
"You are no Aegon, you are only a plague upon this house and my family!"
"No... I shall return this family to its previous glory, only if you allow me to wed Rhaenyra." Daemon said.
Viserys drew Blackfyre and placed it at Daemon's throat. The dark steel rippled in the sunlight from the gigantic painted windows on either side of the throne room.
"You shall do no such thing." Viserys spat. "You shall return to the Vale, and to your wife, and I shall never see you again. If I do, I swear it, I shall cut off your cock and put in a bowl of brown! Now leave! Your King demands it!"
Viserys then angrily returned to his quarters and drank a glass of Arbor Gold to quell his anger. After that he wiped off his bloody knuckles with a soft white cloth.
I am to have lunch with Lyonel Strong later. I must look the part of a King. A King does not beat people with bare hands, let alone his brother.
The lunch was a small serving, there was a few oatcakes, pastries, and various sliced fruits.
"Your son has done well fulfilling his duties as a confessor in the dungeons," Viserys said, through a mouthful of pork pie. "Following the passing of Myles Hayford, the role of Lord Confessor is now open, and I plan on instilling Larys in his stead."
"Your Grace, I thank you for the acknowledgement of my son's... hard work. I shall notify him of his promotion later today." Lyonel replied, courteously.
House Strong were a newer family, and most of their standing they owed was to House Targareyn, including the seat of Harrenhal. Viserys could trust Lyonel and his sons more than he could with most people, with Ser Harwin being the Lord Commander of the City Watch for some years, and Larys proving himself as a royal confessor.
Viserys took a long drink of his wine. "Sometimes, Lyonel, I rue being King." Viserys said, laughing.
"Your Grace?" Lyonel replied.
"I rule over the Seven Kingdoms and all its people, yet I still cannot control mine own daughter."
"Well... Your Grace..." Lyonel said nervously. "King Jaehaerys ruled over half a century of peace, yet his daughters drove him half mad. Mine own did at times back in Harrenhal. Y-Your Grace... are you asking for counsel... on the topic of your daughter's marriage?"
Even my most leal servants want a royal marriage for their blood.
"Are you going to suggest your own sons, is that it, Lyonel?" Viserys asked, angrily. "Ser Harwin Breakbones, the strongest knight in the realm, is that who you suggest my daughter to marry?"
Or will you dare suggest the Clubfoot for my daughter's hand?
Lyonel gulped. "N-No, Your Grace. I would not. House Strong are much below the station of House Targaryen. A marriage to the likes of us… would be an insult."
"Then who were you going to suggest?"
"Your Grace, for a Princess, only a marriage to one of the Lords Paramount or their sons would be suitable... but only two are feasible, in my opinion. Lord Borros would be a close ally, and with his late father, Lord Boremund, being such a strong supporter of Princess Rhaenys, it would do well to bring the Baratheons on Princess Rhaenyra's side. But Lord Jason must also not be discounted. House Lannister are one of the richest houses in the realm, with their power equal to that of a Free City. He brings gold, more than that even of House Targaryen, and a noble lineage stretching back thousands of years. Both would be... good choices, Your Grace."
The blustering stag or the haughty lion, my daughter shall truly be spoiled for choice.
Later that evening, Viserys was sitting in his bedchambers, placing his Valyrian Steel dagger over the small flame, waiting for his daughter to answer his summons. He brooded over the chilling rumours, his exiling of Daemon, and what he planned to tell his daughter now.
Was I too harsh on my brother? And is what I am about to do too harsh on my daughter?
Rhaenyra arrived, wearing a white and yellow gown.
"Father." Rhaenyra smiled.
My precious daughter.
"Rhaenyra." Viserys said coldly. "Sit."
Rhaenyra sat down at the table, cautiously. "What... have you summoned me here for? Was it so important that I had to leave my supper?"
Yes, it was.
Viserys took the dagger that was resting on the flame and passed it to Rhaenyra. "This was Aegon the Conqueror's dagger. It was his fathers before his, going all the way back to Aenar the Exile, and mayhaps even Old Valyria. Targaryen monarchs have passed this dagger on from generation to generation. I intend for this dagger to become yours one day."
He paused.
"You have a responsibility as heir to fulfil your duties and sneaking out at night and doing things only the Seven know isnot part of your duties. The Old King would've banished you to the Silent Sisters, but you are lucky that I am more merciful than my grandsire."
"You would have me disinherit me over a lie? Father, I have not even been given a chance to defend myself from this!"
"Does it matter what the truth is? Whether you... fucked Daemon, or just snuck out with him, it does not matter! Only people's perceptions. And the realm's perception of you could not be worse! You never attend court, you reject marriage proposals, and now... this!"
Viserys stood up and walked to Rhaenyra's seat, towering over her.
"You are to marry." Viserys said. "And you will obey my command, or I will disinherit you. Be grateful of the Lady Alicent Hightower's defence of you, because I shall still give you the luxury of choosing between Lord Borros Baratheon or Lord Jason Lannister."
Rhaenyra laughed.
Is this still a joke to her?
"Yes father, I shall marry, but what shall you do about the vultures that perch above your throne wanting to feed on your corpse?"
Vultures?
"What vultures?"
"The two vultures that sit upon your Small Council. The Sea Snake and your Hand."
Corlys Velaryon and Otto Hightower? She must be japing.
"Both have served my grandsire as well as me faithfully and loyally."
"And they are both now placing their own ambitions above the realms'. The Sea Snake wants my half-brother to be heir and will stop at nothing to achieve that! You know that as much as I do, father."
The Sea Snake always does nag me about changing the line of succession, that is true, but Otto Hightower?
"If you want me as your heir, find a new Master of Ships, because Corlys Velaryon does not want me to succeed you."
She is correct in that matter.
"And what of Otto Hightower, daughter? Every man in court has their own ambitions, that is the truth, but surely you cannot say my Hand is disloyal."
"Yes, everyone has their ambitions, but Otto Hightower puts his before anything else, it is clear to see! He was the one that made up that vile rumour about me, was it not?"
Viserys could hardly believe what his daughter was saying. "He did not make it up, he reported it to me, because of his duty to the realm!"
"Oh, that could not be further than from the truth if you tried! How can you not notice it, father? He used the rumour so his son would be the most convenient marriage solution. Ser Thoren is a good man, yes, but it is obvious that he is only trying to court me on orders from his father. Gods, he does not even like the company of women!"
"I have heard enough, Rhaenyra. You shall marry, and that is the end of it. You shall notify me of your choice on the morrow."
"I shall, yes, father. But only before both of the leeches go. Or I shall fly to Dorne, I swear it." Rhaenyra said, storming out of the room.
When Rhaenyra left, Viserys collapsed back on his chair and reached for his wine. Rhaenyra's words made his mind go back to Alicent Hightower, who used to visit him every night after his wife's death to talk and comfort him. Was Otto Hightower's intentions the same all those years ago?
Otto would not do such a thing. The Lady Alicent only visited me out of the goodness of her heart.
Then Viserys remember that ever since he announced his marriage to Laena Velaryon, the nightly visits had stopped.
No, that cannot be. She only stopped visiting because... No... Surely not... Could I have been such a fool to... No...
Viserys threw his wine glass at the wall in rage, and it smashed into pieces, leaving a bright red stain on by his bed.
"Your Grace?" the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard asked, quickly entering the room.
"Do not mind, Ser Harrold, I am not harmed."
"Yes... Your Grace..." Ser Harrold said, slowly exiting the room again.
"Actually, Ser Harrold. Go to the Grand Maester and arrange for moon tea to be sent to my daughter."
You can never be certain.
"At once, Your Grace."
"Thank you, Ser Harrold."
At least my Kingsguard are loyal to me and my wishes.
After that, Viserys went straight over to lie in his bed and close his eyes, to try and forget. To try and forget the day he had just had. To try and forget about his duties. To try and forget about everything.
That night, he dreamed of his son ascending the Iron Throne. The crowd cheered his name as he ascended, and he wore the Conqueror's crown and bore Blackfyre, the Conqueror's sword. Next to him were two different banners on either side. One was the black and red, Viserys' house. The other was blue, for Viserys' wife. As he sat on the throne, all the dragons roared as one. Viserys turned to wife next to him and smiled at her. She smiled back, with her silver hair gently blowing in the wind.
"Baelon shall make a good king." His wife said.
"He shall indeed, Aemma." Viserys replied.
Viserys woke up the next morning, but Aemma was no longer next to him.
Laena Velaryon was not either, as she had taken to sleeping in her own chambers most days. Their marriage was distant, Viserys would summon her whenever he felt lonely, and she would do her duties, and though Laena may have liked him, it was clear she did not love him in the way Aemma did.
And I do not love her the way I loved Aemma.
After Viserys had broken his fast on eggs with fried onions and peppers that he scarcely touched, and then he went to the Small Council chambers to summon Ser Otto Hightower.
Surely, he did not send his daughter to... seduce me... but Rhaenyra said she would not marry if I didn't... what choice do I have...
Viserys waited patiently, standing by his chair.
I would rather get the more difficult action out of the way first.
Otto arrived soon after, wearing an all-black doublet, and black breeches. On his chest was the brooch of the Hand of the King that glimmered in the morning sun.
"It was five days, wasn't it, Otto?"
"Your Grace, I-"
"My father, he was Hand for five days. He was healthy, young, able, they called him Baelon the Brave. He would have made a fine Hand. But five days later, he died. A burst belly, the maesters said."
"It was a grim day, yes, Your Grace, I remember it too well."
A grim day for some...
"I am sure you remember it well. Though the realm was in mourning for the heir, but it was certainly a good day for you. The Old King named you heir to replace him. From a second son with no lands or titles, to the second most powerful man in the realm..."
"If you are suggesting... I would never dream of it... being Hand... it was a duty..."
"I am sure you would never, Otto, you served my grandsire well, and me after that. I wouldn't have learned to be a good king if it were not for you. But I must ask this, how long did it take for you to start pursuing your own interests over the realm's?"
Otto stood there, dumbfounded.
"Was it when you heard of those... rumours of my daughter last night, or was it when your son arrived from Oldtown some years ago? Or was it the night my wife died?"
"Your Grace..."
"I may never recover from the sorrow of losing Aemma, but Alicent certainly did helped me. She comforted me when I needed it most, she did what nobody else did for me. And for that I am endlessly grateful to her. But now... I come to realise she came to me through your instructions. When that failed... when I chose to marry Laena Velaryon… you still had a son. But the second son of a second son is a laughable marriage option for a princess, but should my daughter be... sullied, mayhaps such a match would suddenly become desirable."
"What you suggest is an absurdity, Your Grace." Otto laughed.
"Is that so, Otto? You have served me and the realm well, and for that I owe you a large debt. But now, I fear that I can no longer trust your judgement."
Viserys took off Otto's Hand brooch.
After Otto left, Viserys sat down for a while and finished his glass of wine before Corlys Velaryon arrived.
"Your Grace, Lord Corlys Velaryon." Ser Erryk announced.
"Send him in."
In came the Sea Snake swaggering, with his ever arrogant demeanour, dressed in a blue and gold doublet, with a large seahorse embroidered onto it. On his neck hung three golden chains, one that displayed the Velaryon seahorse, another with nine sea snakes, and one with a large galley, that proudly displayed his role as Master of Ships.
"Your Grace, might I ask why you have summoned me at... this early hour?" he asked.
Viserys took the golden Hand brooch that was resting on the council table.
"See this, Lord Corlys? It is the brooch of the Hand of the King, as you very well know."
"Yes..."
"I removed Ser Otto Hightower from his position as Hand earlier this morning."
"And, Your Grace, is that-" he said, with a small smile starting to grow on his face.
Of course, he is ever the ambitious man.
"No, Lord Corlys. Lord Lyonel Strong is to be my next Hand."
His smile fell. "Then why have you summoned me here, Your Grace?"
"Otto Hightower is no longer the Hand because I felt he was pursuing his own ambitions above that of the realm. And I fear that you have begun to do the same."
"Then you must be mistaken, Your Grace." The Sea Snake laughed.
"For the past few years, you have constantly pushed for your grandson to be made the heir over my daughter. You constantly undermine me in councils, you talk to me as if you are the King, not me."
"Your Grace, all I have done is try to warn you of the issue of the Stepstones, yet-"
"And yet again, this… insubordination continues. I am a merciful man, Lord Corlys, but even I cannot ignore your peristent grumbling about how Rhaenyra should not be the heir or of how indecisive I am or whatever else issue you bring up all the time."
If the Sea Snake thinks I cannot undertake difficult decisions, then he is mistaken, for I am undertaking one now.
"You are removing me from my role as Master of Ships, is that it?"
"Yes, Lord Corlys. I thank you for your service to-"
Before Viserys could finish, the Sea Snake turned and walked to the exit of the room. Just before he reached the door, he turned and bowed his head.
"Your Grace."
Once he had left, Viserys sat back down again and took another drink of his wife.
It wasn't long until Ser Harrold Westerling arrived bearing news. He entered, wearing his customary milk white armor and white Kingsguard cloak.
"Your Grace. I bring news from the Princess. She has informed me that she has made her decision."
"And?"
"She has chosen to wed Lord Jason Lannister."