Viserys arranged for the final night to be a feast with the whole family, every member of House Targaryen, and his good relatives of House Hightower and House Velaryon.
The King had gone without his medicine for the entirety of the day and had wished to be clear of mind.
Viserys sat in the middle between his wife and daughter, Daemon to Rhaenyra's left, then Corlys and Rhaenys. At one end was Jacaerys with his cousin Baela, and to Baela's left was Lucerys. In the middle of the other side of the table were Rhaena and Baelon.
To Alicent's right were Otto, Daeron, Aemond, Helaena, and Aegon, who sat on Baelon's left.
Joffrey sat on the floor with Viserys and Aegon the Younger, then little Jaehaerys and Jaehaera. The only child not present was Prince Maelor, who had only been born this year and was still in the cradle.
Truly, all of his blood was gathered except for one, but nonetheless understandable. "How good it is, to see us all together." The silence remained in his first attempt to break the division.
Alicent leaned in, "Pray before we begin?" Viserys nodded, and she folded her hands as the rest of the family bowed their heads in prayer for the supper they would be dining upon.
"This is an auspicious celebration," Viserys began and gestured to his grandson. My grandson, Jace, and my son, Baelon, will marry their cousins, Baela and Rhaena. This will further strengthen the bond between our Houses. A toast to the young Princes and their betrothed."
"Hear, hear!" Daemon said, as well as Corlys.
"Let us toast to Prince Baelon and my husband, Lord Corlys, for finally bringing the Stepstones into our realm!" Rhaenys said from her husband's side,
Viserys raised his cup to his son, "Not only this but Baelon's appointment to the Principality as the first Prince of the Stepstones." Aegon patted his brother on the shoulder, who nodded with his own cup raised.
The family then quietly feasted for a moment until Viserys gripped his cane and rose from his seat to address his family once more, perhaps for the final time.
"It both gladdens my heart and fills me with sorrow. To see these faces around the table, the faces most dear to me in all the world... Yet grown so distant from one another in the years past."
Viserys sighed deeply and raised his hand to remove his mask. He wanted them to see the man they loved and who loved them. "My own face is no longer a handsome one, if indeed it ever was." his jest made more to make him smile than the others.
"This night, I wish for you all to see me as I am... not just a King... but your father, your brother, your husband, and your grandsire." He could feel his legs begin to give way, but he remained stubbornly on his feet. "Who may not, it seems, walk for much longer among you?"
"Let us no longer hold ill feelings in our hearts, for the Crown cannot stand strong if the House of the Dragon remains divided." Viserys said while looking at his daughter and brother, "Set aside your grievances!" This time, he looked to Baelon, "If not for the sake of the Crown, then for the sake of this old man who loves you all! So dearly!" His lone eye trailed from Aegon to Alicent.
All was quiet again when his daughter rose to her feet, "I wish to raise my cup to her grace, the Queen. I love my father but none have stood by his side more loyally by his side than his good wife." Rhaenyra and the Queen stared at one another, a flicker of the friendship once they had stirring beneath their hearts. "She has tended to him with unfailing devotion, love, and honor... And for that, she has my gratitude."
"Your graciousness moves me deeply, daughter." Alicent said in response, "We are both mothers, and we love our children. We have more in common than we sometimes allow." The Queen then rose from her seat with a cup in hand, "I raise my cup to you and our House... And... You will make a fine Queen."
Viserys stared silently at his son, Baelon, hoping that he would finally mend the bridge, but to his sorrow, the Prince remained silent.
Helaena smiled while standing up abruptly with her cup full, "I wish to toast Rhaena and Baela, one of whom is to be my good sister... It isn't so bad; he mostly just ignores you unless he is drunk."
Baelon chuckled and looked at Aegon, who looked to want to sink under the table from the shame; a round of smiles and quiet laughter filled the room, and Viserys waved for music to begin playing.
Over the next hour, all hatred and grief seemed to leave the room.
Jace took Helaena for a dance and was joined soon by Rhaena and Baelon, albeit reluctantly. Viserys regaled his grandchildren with some stories as Rhaenyra and Alicent talked, he even noted Daemon and Corlys being cordial with Otto.
But most of all, I saw the young dancing with one another, especially Jace and Helaena, and Viserys, for a moment, imagined them as King and Queen. Standing by one another after he is well and truly gone.
A better world. A good world.
The pain returned, and Viserys felt his heart and head grow heavy. "Guards," Alicent called, but he didn't want to leave, yet he could not form the words as the pain struck his voice.
Baelon fought the tears as he parted from Rhaena's hand, seeing his father being taken from the feast he had arranged for that night.
To think, he had been planning on leaving after returning to the Red Keep when the family was informed of the King's small feast. The speech was good, and it nearly had him attempt to say something nice, if not for his iron will not to.
If he had done such a speech years ago, it may have done some good, but what he saw tonight was no more than posturing and false praise. "You dance well, cousin." He complimented Rhaena.
"Thank, My Prince."
Rhaena was beautiful in her red and black gown, her silver hair done up in a bun that accented her exposed neckline. Her brown skin was soft but for what looked like burn marks on her wrist, "Did you burn yourself, my Lady?" he asked with some intrigue and concern.
"I had tried claiming my uncle's dragon, Seasmoke. He didn't take to me... " she said with some lament.
She was truly brave, after all... "Perhaps a different dragon, then?"
"And which would you recommend?"
"Silverwing. She is more docile, the former mount of Queen Alysanne and- "
A hand slammed on the table and made everyone look to Aemond, who didn't take to Jace and Luke sharing a laugh at him, whatever they did, and Baelon only needed to look at the table to see.
A roasted pig. Another damned pig.
It was set on the table, right before the very person who was teased about a flying pig when they were children. "Shit." He cursed under his breath.
Aemond raised his cup, "Propose a final toast to my nephews, Jacaerys, Lucerys, and Joffrey." The family gathered close and wary of what was going to be said as the Prince continued, "Each of them young, wise, and... Strong."
Baelon stood close to where Jace and Luke were, Aegon was closer and seated with his cup raised along with their brother, Daeron. "A toast to these three strong boys!"
A short fight ensued just like when they were children as Jace dared Aemond to say it again, "Or what? Will you try for me, again, Lord Strong? Or perhaps Luke will succeed in taking Baelon's eye." Now, why in the Seven Hells did he have to involve him? Baelon narrowed his eyes on his brother.
His nephew threw a punch at Aemond, but his brother ducked and pushed him into Baelon, who grabbed the Prince and laid him on his back. Lucerys attempted to jump into the fight, and Aegon pushed the younger nephew face-first on the table, breaking a glass jug of wine.
The Kingsguard finally learned their duties and quickly dove in to separate the lot of them.
"Enough!" Harrold cried out, and the many Princes struggled to get free.
Alicent had come to Aemond's side with worry, "What are you doing?"
"I am only expressing how proud I am of my family, Mother." He started with a smile and then turned to the bastard sons. But it seems that my nephews are not so proud of theirs!"
"Well, Ser, it appears the King's wishes won't be honored for some time." Baelon humored to the disapproval stare from Rhaenyra, who ordered for her children to leave the chamber and go to theirs.
The families have chosen to go their separate ways, his sister and her family returning to Dragonstone. Princess Rhaenys left before and flew on Meleys to Driftmark, her husband and young children sailing on the Sea Snake.
He was eating some of the leftover food when Rhaenyra came to his side after seeing to the Queen, "Baelon?"
"Yes," he answered, then popped another grape in his mouth. "A rowdy end to somewhat of a peaceful meal, don't you say?" She chuckled at the irony, a hand on her belly.
"I wanted to ask if you and Archonei will come to Dragonstone. We could spend some time together and plan the wedding between you, Jace, and the girls." It could do well, he guessed.
He could help his future bride claim Silverwing, "I may just do that; on the morrow, I shall fly to Dragonstone." She was happy from the look of joy in her lilac eyes.
"Iksan biare hen ziry, lēkia (I am glad of it, brother)." She held his hand for a moment before offering a parting curtsie to the Queen and leaving with Daemon, who eyed him intently.
Otto would come to him afterward to ask if he would be willing to remain. He had declined the Hand's offer by saying he must return to the Stepstones—a lie, but it convinced the man.
Baelon walked the stairs near the hour of the owl; he had bid farewell to his brothers, and Daeron himself flew out with Tessarion back to Oldtown.
He thanked Aemond for his prior advice, for when they were back at the Wendwater. He said he would be leaving the city by the end of the night, but not before seeing his father one more time.
The Keep had become so quiet during the night where before then, there were still children running the halls and servants tending to their duties.
Ser Criston stood in front of his father's chambers, "Wait, my Prince. The Queen is seeing to the King."
"Gods, Ser... You look younger with every year. Truly, I compliment such a thing." He wondered if all Dornishmen looked so hale and healthy. The Knight smiled and nodded.
"You look handsome as well, my Prince. The scar adds to your allure." Allure? Huh, he likes that word.
The door opened, and Alicent walked out looking shaken as if something had happened, "You look terrified, your Grace... Is he?" He hoped not but you could never tell with how the King appeared in his later years.
"No, but he is resting, Prince Baelon."
"I only mean to say my farewells, I plan on leaving in the morning back to the Stepstones." She seemed a little unsure like she didn't wish him to enter, "I will only be a moment, then I will let him rest."
Alicent looked inside and then to her knight and then to him, "... Very well, good night, son." She said and left down the hall, Ser Criston bidding him with a nod before trailing the Queen.
Prince Baelon entered the chamber with silent steps, closing the doors and approaching his father's bedside, who appeared to be sleeping... But he wasn't breathing, and his chest wasn't rising or falling.
"Father?" He called, but there was no answer, no twitch in his face, inkling that he had heard him.
It wasn't until Baelon touched the King's hand, the hand that his mother's ring was next to his own royal one. The touch was warm, but there was no reaction, and the fingers were limp; he bent his head to his father's chest and heard no heartbeat.
He was dead. Viserys was dead.
The Prince goes through a series of emotions in the minutes that pass by, from sorrow to regret and, finally, fear. He was the last to see the King; the Queen will attest to this unless she had done the deed, but he doubts this.
They will blame him for this. The Game of Thrones is as deadly as a blade, and he will be called a murderer.
Teary-eyed and stumbling, his eyes looked to Blackfyre, who sat on the mantle, and then to his hand, which clutched within its grasp his mother's ring.
Baelon knows he has to leave this place. If what Aemond says is true, then the Greens will act swiftly, so he must flee, but not without the sword. Blackfyre is the sword of the Targaryen Kings, so if Otto and the Hightowers want to crown Aegon, then they will only do it with half the legitimacy.
Having been raised in the Red Keep, he had become used to using the tunnels and knew which one led where. It just so happened that one such tunnel led to a known brothel, only halfway down toward the Dragonpit.
The head Dragonkeeper stood guard at the entrance of the dragonpit. "Keligon (halt)," the man commanded until he lifted the hood of his cloak. "Dārilaros baelon? (Prince Baelon)"
"Maghagon nyke ñuha zaldrīzes, sir! (Bring me my dragon, now)" He commanded.
Archonei screeched into the blackness as she took flight as the moon reached its zenith; Baelon turned her south to the Stepstones to prepare his fleet and gather his council; on the Prince's back was the sword that would legitimize him as the next king.
"Sir, jī naejot vīlībāzma... (Now, we go to war)"