The Tartered Dragon - Aegon, Son of Baelon

by mootjeman7

An man from our world is reborn in the world of ASOIAF and decides to make the best out of it through adventure yet it never is that easy, even for a third prince. OC-SI - Overlaps with HOTD.

50. Chapter 48

Chris-GMP - The two bastards are in a way reflective of the nature of power...as GRRM intended i suppose with Hugh the Hammer and the other one. Aegon Mini-me, unfortunately, is/will be swept up by the situation unfortunately. There is no escape. And he won't want to.

ankitmahat - Aye, Bartimos should have been smarter about it but unfortunately his prejudices prevented him from being smart about it :(. The bastard stigma is real.

1 - Aelor is a decent fellow but unfortunately he has a brother who dreams of the world and he can't help but try and keep him steady. It will suck.

Lady-Silvanas - Yes, the balance of power is skewed and honestly, it was the same in Canon. It's just that Vhagar was a problem that the Blacks didn't want to kamikaze themselves into destroying. Otherwise, they should have won, in all honesty anyway.

Aegon's objective is rather simple. He wants his cake and eat it. He will work to getting to eat it, if it arrives in front of him, whilst also figuring out if he can help without doing anything (i.e. killing family) that he would regret doing.

Regarding the whole chapter duplicates thing :( I've just tried to fix it again and hopefully it will stay fixed. Honestly, it's an nightmare. FF needs to sort it out. It's been buggy for some time now.

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Everyone Else, Thank you for your reviews and comments, I always read them even if I don't respond to them.

As always, please enjoy this chapter and let me know what you think.

Note: If you would like to read ahead, the next three chapters after this chapter are available on P. .^T.^R.^E.^O.^N./ Boombox117

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Second Day of the First Moon, 129 AC – King's Landing

Alicent POV

The doors to the Small Council chambers opened, a thudding sound, the creaks in the doors a dull trill, that, swiftly, sharply, was drowned out by the crescendo of chairs scraping sharply against the stone floor, chair after chair displacing as all those at the table rose one by one, their gazes transfixed onto the opened doors.

Onto her husband, the King.

Her husband's heavy, raspy breathing drummed amongst the sounds of the King's Guard moving armour as they wheeled him forward in his ornate wheelchair.

Her attentions caught Daeron sending a harsh accusing glare at her father, a burbling of anger that was barely contained in the Velaryon's expression.

The man had grown ever more frustrated whenever the matter of the Tyroshi arose as her father stymied the attempts of the Velaryons to seek redress from the Tyroshi, and his visual expressions were an outpour of that frustration.

The Tyroshi' retaliations and sabotages to Velaryon interests and ownerships was boiling over, and each time a Small Council had been called over the past six moons, Daeron had sabre-rattled with increasing fervour, getting to a point that he was threatening the Velaryons will seek redress without favour or approval from the Crown sooner rather than later, something that has caused her father to react in the only way left to them.

To get her husband to dissuade the Velaryons from breaking the peace.

Her father did nought but give her husband all his attentions, ignoring the glare of the Velaryon, and he led the Small Council in welcoming her husband.

"Your Grace." One and all said, their heads bowing, as her husband, adorned in his kingly attires and crown affixed on his brow all whilst wearing a half mask allowing them to see the remaining 'good' part of his face, was made to cross the distance in his seat before he was gently placed at the head of the table.

The small army of maesters that had trailed behind the Kings Guard quickly assembled through the doors before the doors were shut, and fell in line behind the King's Guard, standing ready in the instance her husband needed the aid.

"Be seated." Her husband said, the rasp in his voice sickly, his breathing a moment heavier than it was before, speaking clearly of the great effort it took him to speak, to even be conscious.

They all took their seats as commanded though it was not long before her father spoke up. "Your Grace." Her father's voice drew all attentions to her father and he soon continued after the momentary pause had drawn them in.

"I must apologise for disturbing your rest but I fear that your judgement is needed now more than ever."

Her husband exhaled haltingly, a sound to be understood as an understanding.

"Tyrosh." Her husband rasped out weakly before his single eye turned towards Daeron who she could see look at her husband with a stone mask, one that tried much to hide the discomfort the man was feeling undoubtedly.

Viserys had not been to a Council meeting in nearly a year. The last time any of the Councillors, outside of her father, had seen Viserys had been over three moons ago, when Rhaenyra had visited with that girl and her youngest son Maekar.

And all knew her husband's condition.

Her husband was closer to death than he was to living and to call upon him, to weaken him further, was an act that few could be so cavalier about.

"Your Grace." Daeron said quietly as he bowed his head slightly. "The Tyroshi grow braver with each day that passes. The Treaty we signed with them, one of friendship and understanding, is being spat upon at every waking ho-"

"The Tyroshi" Her father interjected sharply and Daeron's anger became visible at the interruption but her father paid it no mind as he spoke further "are not the problem here, Your Grace."

"Not the problem?" Daeron repeated with gritted teeth as he stretched out his hands onto the table.

"They are refusing to honour the pricing we negotiated for their wares, increasing the pricing for goods like their pear brandy, their ceramics and their dyed fabrics by over four hundred percent!" Daeron started to clench his hands.

"And that is not even the worst of it. The taxations we imposed on foreign ships in Tyrosh's ports are being refused to be honoured and each day that passes, more Myrrish and more Lysene ships arrive."

Alicent sent a look at her father, who remained impassive despite the heated words.

The plans her husband, Daemon and Lord Velaryon had initiated had been to slowly but forcibly, tie Tyrosh into the realm, making them depend on Westerosi goods and later, with diplomacy, gain Tyrosh into the Kingdom…alongside the Stepstones which was marginally though not practically in their present control.

Her father had learnt more over the past years, that Viserys intended Rhaenyra the 'honour' of incorporating the Stepstones into the Kingdom, giving her a sense of legitimacy and prestige that was undue her.

As always, Rhaenyra was being spoilt, giving honours and opportunities she did not deserve, never even having to lift a finger to receive or struggle for.

And her husband was a fool for her, and even greater a fool if he ever thought it possible that Rhaenyra would ever grant her half-brothers domains of their own, even if they were nought but desolate rocks.

In any case, the plans of this conquest had only helped solidify their allies in Tyrosh in strengthening their resolve in breaking free.

"It will only be a matter of time before the Tyroshi completely break from the agreements we have reached with the treacherous magisters."

"And what do you…" Her husband began, and he took several breaths before he spoke again. "propose we do?"

Daeron leaned forward. "Let us remind who they owe fealty to, Your Grace. Let the Velaryon fleet blockade them, perhaps let us have dragons fly over their city. They will crumble without a single arrow fired or swing of the sword."

"They do not owe the Crown fealty, Ser Daeron." Her father spoke for the King and it annoyed Daeron once again. The past few years had been tiresome, to say the least, even when the Tyroshi issue had not formed.

They all knew it. Daeron was Rhaenyra's creature. He was here most moons of each year, and more oft than not, he was the challenging voice to her father's authority in the wake of her husband's declining health, even though her father did little that warranted challenging, not now, not when matters necessitated carefulness.

But all of that he challenged, they all knew it also, that Daeron had little authority beyond his remit of the Royal Fleet, which she knew her father had conceded to Rhaenyra even if he had men in the background to limit the extent of the loyalties the captains harboured to Rhaenyra and to Dragonstone.

In all truths, she wondered why Daeron had not yet resigned.

It was obvious that Rhaenyra had decided to yield Kings Landing instead of fighting for it, a foolish decision. Viserys had been dying for a long time, and he was dying quicker over the past years. It should be clear Viserys could die at any moment.

And for all that she thought Rhaenyra was a usurper, a fool girl, and unbefitting of the Crown, the girl wasn't stupid. Not completely anyway.

Nor was Baelon.

So why allow Daeron to remain?

She did not understand it but for all that she did not understand it, she did understand that her father was depending on it.

The Velaryons' greed would be their way to damage the life threatening alliance.

"They are not even allies." Her father said in a rebuking tone that did not sit well at all with Daeron. "At most, we have favoured status with them, under the treaty His Grace signed with the Tyroshi Magisters." Her father continued. "Of course, the aggressive moves they are making is unfortunate" Daeron scoffed harshly at her father's words and he seemed barely able to contain himself.

"However, to do what you suggest would only inspire more fear from Essos." Her father said gravely.

"More fear?" Daeron said in a scoff. "From whom, would the Lord Hand believe this fear would hail from? Myr is no more than Braavos' puppet. Pentos looks more to their north and their south than they do West. Braavos has no more other interest than Myr itself, which it is struggling with. They have no room for fear from the Iron Throne and even if they did…" Daeron leaned forward "Then it is no more than good news." Daeron declared.

"It is about time we end this half measure we are taking with Tyrosh."

Her father looked irritable for a moment. "And for whom's benefit would you ask the Realm to go to war for? House Velaryon?"

"For the Realm." Daeron said with a mild look of contempt. "Not that you would have much understanding of this notion." This caused some uncomfortable murmurs around the table but Daeron paid it no mind as he continued. "With Tyrosh firmly incorporated into the Realm, we have far better access and control over the Stepstones. In time, we can fully incorporate those damned islands into the Realm too, even though we should have done so years ago."

"The Realm could not afford the quagmire of Essos at the time, Ser Daeron." Lord Beesbury interjected calmly. "And though Essos has settled into a more…restive state, the cost of maintaining an army on those isles is not one the Crown can afford for extended periods. Even with the income of the glasswares."

"House Velaryon will share the cost and manpower, as will any other House granted the titles of the islands." Daeron was quick to respond and her father was about to challenge Daeron's words but a surprising command was voiced out.

"Enough." Her husband rasped out and the table turned silent as her husband rested his head against the back of the chair, and a weak groan escaped his lips.

"Your Grace." The Grandmaester stood up from his seat concernedly before he waved at the maesters to approach and Alicent found herself standing too.

"No…no…I can speak." Her husband managed, his sole hand twitching in what could only be understood as dismissal. "We will not…intimidate them. Nor…will we not…speak any further of…war…" her husband looked at Daeron with his sole eye, his breathing heavying. "So eager…for war…it is…not the only…way." Her husband said, and his breathing growing more frequent with every word uttered and Alicent, still standing, took to look at the rest of the Council.

Lord Beesbury, Grandmaester Orwyle, Lord Commander Ser Ryam and Lord Jasper Wylde were visibly most affected by the King's words amongst the Councillors and even her father looked affected by her husband's words.

For all that her husband had his faults, he had a commitment to peace that could not be denied. Even if perhaps that commitment was wrongly placed.

It was one of his greatest qualities.

"Otto…" Her husband continued, just about managing to shift his head to allow him to gaze upon her father.

"Your Grace?" her father answered quietly and in his voice, she could hear the respect he had for her husband.

"Though…I forbid war…we must…however…answer…the breaches…" her husband closed his eye for a moment and there was a tenseness slowly creeping into the Council chambers.

"Husband?" Alicent walked over to Viserys and placed her hand onto his as she crouched a little by his chair.

Viserys breathed heavily again before he opened his eye and after a pained grimace he continued. "The…Tyroshi…will keep to the…agreement…my brother won."

Alicent looked to her father who had not changed his face much as he bowed his head slightly. "Of course, Your Grace." Her father looked towards Lord Jasper who momentarily had a look of surprise on his face but one that soon departed. "Lord Jasper. You will go to Tyrosh and impose on the magisters of the urgency of a return to the established agreements."

"And if they refuse?" Daeron was quick to interject though there was no real animosity in his tone of voice anymore.

"I…as your king…will deal with it in should it…happen." Her husband said raspingly though his breathing was settling slightly, his eye settling on Daeron who did not look pleased but seemed accepting enough.

Her father picked up the conversation, glancing at Viserys as he spoke, reluctance clear to hear in his voice. "And if House Velaryon wishes to support Lord Jasper to see to the success of the restoration of agreements, I would suggest you also send diplomatic representatives in support."

Her father said intently as he stared at Daeron who disliked the look. Nonetheless, the Velaryon understood it enough from what it seemed.

"Agreed…I give leave." Her husband said, agreeing to the suggestion posed by her father and as Alicent looked upon Daeron, she could see that it had done enough to sate the ambitions of the Velaryons. At least for now.

"Any…" Her husband continued and Alicent looked towards her husband and she saw he was growing more exhausted by the heartbeat. "Other matters…that must have…need of me?"

"I believe the Small Council can attend to the remaining matters." Her father said as he glanced around the table and none had posed an opposing argument and her husband moved his head weakly and within a moment, the Kings Guard had moved to take her husband away, her steps moving away to allow it to occur.

None uttered a word as Viserys was taken away, all of them either watching the front or the others or watching Viserys leave, and only after a few moments after the doors had closed, did any speak up again, and this time it was Lord Jasper.

"Lord Hand" Lord Jasper began, and his eyes momentarily flickering to Daeron was enough to spell most of his intent. "Was it wise to allow House Velaryon to come in this diplomatic mission? I mean no offense, Ser Daeron, however it must be said that House Velaryon's presence may well scupper my efforts."

"It is precisely because of my House's interests in Tyrosh that it is imperative that we have presence in that damned city." Daeron near growled defensively. "Without us, any means of influence in that city would have dried up within a year of the Treaty we signed with those magisters and had that happened, once more would our access beyond the Narrow Sea have been threatened in less than a decade!"

Alicent doubted that. She may not have the mind for it, but she could at least say that the chaos of Essos would not have settled enough to allow strong challenge or occupation of the trade lanes through the Stepstones.

The fact that they did not have need to send any ships to patrol those lanes now, when savage Essos was stabler than it was back then, was proof enough in her eyes.

"Nevertheless, Lord Jasper does have a point." Her father's voice was sharp before he settled into a calmer tone of voice. "There may be need to offer some" Her father raised his hand slightly, halting Daeron in his opposition. "some concessions in order to respect the King's desire to avoid any more…mishaps in his reign. Can you, and your House, Ser Daeron, respect and obey His Grace's command?"

Daeron clenched his teeth for a moment before he nodded sharply. "I will…relay the King's orders." Daeron stood up after he said that. "If none oppose, I will do so post haste."

"Of course. Grandmaester." Her father said and the grandmaester bowed his head before he also stood up.

"Ser Daeron, I will be at the Ravenry when you are ready."

Daeron nodded sharply before he twisted on his heels and departed in a brisque pace.

After Daeron left, it was Lord Jasper who had spoken up, a grim tint to his voice. "I fear the Velaryons will not serve true obeisance to the King's command."

"I would say your fears will become realised." Lord Larys murmured with a faint smile though his unblinking eyes carried nought of the smile in them. "They have a history of disobedience verging on treason after all."

"Be careful of throwing accusations of treason, my lord." Lord Beesbury warned with a frown. "The King had approved of the war in the Stepstones."

"Of course, Lord Beesbury. The King did approve of the war…years after." Lord Larys answered, his smile never leaving.

Before Lord Beesbury could respond to that, her father interjected. "Unless there are other matters to discuss that requires the Small Council's attentions, we shall end it here." Her father's stern voice cut through the room.

The Small Council meeting had but few matters to discuss, none of great significance, and the meeting ended rather quickly, and when it ended, she walked with her father to his Solar, in silence.

After the doors closed to her father's solar, her father let off a restless sigh as he grabbed the bridge of his nose, and she was surprised to see it.

"Father?" she questioned tentatively.

Her father looked at her with an impassive glint in his eyes before he shook his head and walked over to his desk. "We are in dangerous territory, daughter." Her father said before he leaned against the desk with one hand rest on it, her father seeming to resist sitting down.

She came closer to her father though she spoke not.

"Everything…it all depends on the Velaryons." Her father looked at her and she could see him tired, forcing her fidget nervously. She rarely saw him like this.

"The lives of your children, your grandchildren." Her father's expression flickered momentarily, and she thought she could see regret in his face.

"Rhaenyra and her brood are a step too far. Dragonstone is a fortress we cannot breach." Her father sighed heavily. "Perhaps I should not have been so cautious…"

Alicent understood what her father was saying. The last time Rhaenyra had come.

An ugly look passed across her face, a mixture of discomfort and guilt, but as soon as the look had come, she'd lost it. Her own children's lives were at risk. Rhaenyra would not suffer her half-brothers to live. Even sweet Helaena and her children would not be spared.

Each day that passed, would be a day that allowed her children's dragons to grow and possess more dragons. Rhaenyra, Baelon, would be aware of that.

And there was no love lost between her children and Rhaenyra and Baelon.

One side could not be at rest whilst the other remained alive.

The Gods would see the necessity and would forgive them for their sins.

"We could have held Aemma and Maekar hostage."

Alicent shook her head. "Baelon would not have surrendered." She murmured. He was too much like Daemon. And there was the fact that killing Rhaenyra in such a way would have turned much of the Realm against them.

"Perhaps. Vermithor is a good reason not to surrender." Her father remarked as he glanced at Alicent and she flinched at the look, at the mention of that dragon.

It was a beast only second to Vhagar and both dragons were in their hands.

If only Laena had died. If only Aemond had bonded with Vhagar.

Perhaps they would not have needed the deceit they were carrying out, an affront to the Gods, perhaps the Crone after contemplation and prayer could have offered pearls of wisdom that could have seen a peace that saw Aegon rightly ascend. Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps…

It seemed, truly, their dependence on the Velaryon greed was truly the one way she could save her children and grandchildren.

"I can only be grateful the Velaryons are patient enough to wait out Viserys." Her father said as he straightened himself out and Alicent frowned a little.

Her father continued and she could see that her father saw her frown. He continued. "Do you think the Velaryons, in all of their arrogance, would have remained as still and quiet as they have been about everything Tyrosh if it were not for their confidence that they would gain whatever they wanted under Rhaenyra?" There was a hint of contempt in her father's voice.

Her father did not let her answer his question as he continued, answering for her. "They would not have. They had not done so when they waged a private war against Viserys' wishes in the Stepstones, and they had not done so when they conspired with Daemon to press Viserys to act against Myr and their allies in Tyrosh." Her father's lips firmed into a thin line.

"I am confident Rhaenyra has promised them more than ought to have been promised. It is the reason they give pretence of loyalty to Viserys when his power waning as much as his life is." Her father declared and Alicent winced slightly.

"Corlys is no longer the man he once was." Alicent said quietly in answer and her father hummed, and she was pleased to hear the approval in the hum.

"Aye, that is true, and perhaps his flagrant disobedience has indeed quelled with age. But it has not to the point that he has become a different man." Her father's expression darkened lightly. "Corlys has always chased legacy and power. Tyrosh is merely a facet of that greed of the man. Loyalty means nothing to a man like Corlys. The Free City have made the Velaryons increasingly wealthy to the point that they do indeed compete with House Lannister when it comes to gold. They dominate Tyrosh, far more than the Lysene do and they want to take it entirely."

She knew a little about the wealth the Velaryons were gaining from Tyrosh. The taxes the Velaryons paid two thirds as much as a Great House paid to the Crown.

If it had not been for the tax reliefs granted to House Velaryon. It was also likely that if the Velaryons truly paid their dues, they would have actually paid more than even House Lannister and House Tyrell in taxes.

"That interest has not faded and it must not fade." Her father said lowly. "And with their arrogance…"

Alicent swallowed a little.

"Will it work?" Alicent asked tentatively. She did not know what her father had planned with her uncle and whomever else was part of their alliance.

Her father eyed her intently and he did not speak for a moment. When he did, she could feel the chill in his words. "It must and it shall. For all of our sakes."

Three weeks later…

Alicent fretted as she watched the maesters work on her husband. His blotched wounded skin, which clung to his bones, was fiercely sallow, the wretchedly wet and bleeding scabs on his body pungent in smell and disturbing in sight.

His breaths were shallow, and like wounded bagpipes, each breath was a unsettling rasp that made her wonder, each time, if the breath he took was the last breath he'd ever take.

The change in his health had been sudden, drastic, and it had taken much of them to keep it

"He must live for at least a few more moons, grandmaester." Her father commanded and she knew her father was thinking the very same thing.

"My Lord-" the grandmaester was stopped in his utterance.

Her father raised his hand and he stared at the grandmaester for a long moment.

"I do not care what you do, what you must cut off" Her father's expression flickered slightly as he spoke slowly. "But His Grace must live."

The grandmaester exchanged troubled looks with one of the maesters working on her husband before he nodded resignedly.

"It is possible to extend his life for some time." The grandmaester said slowly before adding quickly, though with a touch of service "But it is no life. His Grace is in constant pain that would cripple most persons. It is a testament to his strength of will that he has endured this long. But he has his limits. He is reaching that limit." The grandmaester said as he rubbed his forehead.

"But it can be done?" Her father pressed.

"Yes." The grandmaester said after another dubious exchange of looks and her father did not look pleased at the exchange.

"What is it?" Her father asked sharply.

"He will have to be kept under a higher dosage of the milk of the poppy to alleviate the pain in his body which is killing him faster than the illness is."

The maester paused for a moment, letting that sink in.

He continued. "However, if we do so, he will little sense of self." The grandmaester said troubled by the thought. "He will be asleep more than he will be awake and when he is awake, he will be more in a dream-state than he will be conscious. His Grace would have be fed and watered by our hands completely. Though he'd breathe, he'd be closer to death than he would be to life."

Alicent winced when she drew blood at the edge of her thumb nail with her teeth.

She looked at her thumb for a moment before she looked at her father, unease and guilt rising from within. "Father, must this happen?" she whispered and she was gifted a sharp look from her father.

"It must." Her father said resolutely before he looked at the grandmaester. "Will the King be able to retain his sense of self when he is not under the poppy?"

The grandmaester hesitated for a moment before he nodded slowly. "He will however he would need to be off of the poppy for a day. He will be in significant pain but he will be conscious."

Her father considered that for a long moment before he fixed the grandmaester with a stern look. "Do it." Her father commanded.

"As my Lord commands."

"Good. And ensure none learn of the King's ailing health." The warning in her father's voice was severe. The maesters bowed their heads in acceptance.

"Alicent, come with me."

They left her husband's chambers where they were waiting upon by the Kings Guard Lord Commander Ser Rickard Thorne and Ser Arryk Cargyll. "The King lives and is healing." Her father said to the two Kings Guard and both were noticeably relieved.

Her father continued, his tone of voice lower. "The King has asked this…episode to remain secret."

Ser Rickard's expression turned stoic at her father's words. "We serve the King." The man said simply and her father only sighed before he nodded acceptingly.

Not more than a moment later, they walked down the hallway of the King's quarter in the royal apartments. Soon enough, they made for her quarters a level below, where she remained nearby her grandchildren and Helaena.

"The staff. Larys confirms to me they all ours now." Her father stated rather than asking, nearly as soon as they arrived at her private quarters.

"Enough of them are." Alicent confirmed, stifling the sense of unease she felt at Larys' intervention on her father's order in the matter.

She'd been Queen for over twenty years.

Though her early years she had struggled severely to assert her authority, because of Daemon, but over the past ten years, she'd slowly replaced most of the servants for younger, more eager maids and servants.

It helped that her uncle had been most helpful in sending servants from Oldtown over the years in secrecy. Unfortunately, there were still a few that she could not reasonably get rid of, most of whom had worked with Queen Alysanne for many years. Whilst they were merely servants and would obey, the matter of secrecy and loyalty was of import now more than ever.

"Good." Her father said as he paced in her quarters, an uncomfortable and worrisome sight. She fretted as her father continued to pace for some time, when he glanced at her, she found herself standing a little taller. "Get me their names, the discrete ones. They will be assigned to this quarter of the Red Keep. I will have them spoken to on how to disseminate information to the rest of the servants."

Alicent only nodded her acceptance to that. As the Lady of the Red Keep, her responsibility included to the seeing to of the royal household and as such, the Stewards of the Red Keep were hers to command.

Once, Daemon had tried to argue that the duty should fall to Rhaenyra, as opposed to Alicent, and Viserys had very nearly stripped her from that authority and only the fact that Viserys would break tradition, for it had been a duty that had been bestowed to all Queens, from Queen Visenya to Queen Alyssa to Queen Alysanne to Aemma, that stayed Viserys from doing so.

"What about the Small Council?" Alicent murmured concerned as she begun to bit at the edge of her fingernails.

Her father levelled a harsh look on her. "They will not learn of Viserys' condition. They will only learn of it when we allow it. The maesters will obey."

Alicent nodded nervously and her father stopped his pacing before he walked up to her and grabbed her shoulders. She swallowed with great difficulty as she struggled to meet her father's gaze.

"When the time comes, you will convince Daeron to see Viserys." Her eyes widened at that and she looked at her father with some confusion.

"Father…I do not understand." And her father sighed irritably.

"I know. But nonetheless, you must listen." Her father tightened his hold on her shoulders. "When the time comes, you will lead Daeron to Viserys. Speak to him. Show him sympathy. Show him that you have Viserys' wellbeing in mind. And you must, you must, convince him Viserys will help if it came from the right person."

"I…I will." Alicent said tightly as she looked away from her father's gaze. "I swear it." She did not understand fully what her father was telling her but she could tell her father was agitated, perhaps even desperate, and that frighten her terribly.

It meant that her father was not in complete control and she rarely knew him to be not in control.

"Good. Do not change anything about yourself. Keep to your behaviour. Ensure that nothing is suspect. Time is not our ally and we must make use of it." Her father sighed heavily, tiresomely as he stopped grabbing her shoulders.

"We will speak of it further, daughter, what exactly you must say to convince Daeron, but know it is in your best interest that you do not fail in this mission of yours. But know…we're almost there. This has been years in the making. All I, your uncle, your House, you, do, is for your children's sake. Your grandchildren. Remember that. Always." Alicent could only nod to that and she stood there for some time when her father left her quarters, leaving her to her thoughts.

Troubled thoughts.

Six days later…

"My father has been taken prisoner!" Daeron slammed his hands onto the table, a furious look on his face as he leaned over the table, and Alicent did her best not to fret and look at her father.

She knew not the entireties of her father's schemes but she knew that this had her father's involvement.

"My goodfather, a Lord of the Realm, has also been taken hostage in the hands of the treacherous Tyroshi and you dare to threaten me that any action against the filth shall be considered a breach of the King's Peace?!" Daeron looked at her father with disgust. "Your own son has been taken captive too!" There was a hint of outrage and disbelief in the way he said it and Alicent swallowed a little drily.

She had not been aware that her brother would be sent out until but a day before the ships were to leave for Driftmark. She looked at her father whose face seemed to tighten in some anger. Her father had only told her that it was necessary, that her brother would be safe. She had to believe it. She must.

'May the Seven ensure your safety' Alicent thought with some desperation.

"Don't forget about poor Jasper" Larys interjected, breaking the stunning silence, a creeping nonchalant smile plastered on his face as he leaned on his crane, eying Daeron in that uncomfortable gaze of his. Though, that smile did not last long under the subjection of a fierce, dangerous glare by Daeron.

"Keep your tongue silent, Larys, or I will make you a mute as well as a cripple." Daeron threatened as his fingers clawed the table before forming into fists. He was getting dangerously out of control, this noon's news of the treachery of the Tyroshi clearly too fresh of a wound.

"Yes." Her father said lowly as he stood up from his seat, drawing attentions back at himself. "You, or anyone else, will not wage war against a Free City without the King's permission, or in the King's absence. Not even if the treachery warrants it." Her father's stern, unmoving expression faltered as he spoke further.

"Not even for mine own son. Only the King can do so."

There was a complete silence under that declaration and Alicent clawed at the edges of her fingers as she forced to remind herself that her father was not sacrificing her brother for the scheme. 'He is safe…the Tyroshi are allies.'

Daeron's expression turned into one of complete fury before he settled into a cold rage and his chair scraped behind him as he straightened himself. "Then so be it."

Daeron made to leave and Alicent sent a furtive glance at her father who nodded meaningfully at her and she understood then that this was the moment her father had spoken of before. "King's Guard." Her father intoned and the two Kings Guard, Ser Cole and Ser Arryk, moved to block Daeron from leaving.

Daeron paused for a moment before he swivelled around, a hateful glare sent her father's way. "You dare?!" and for a long moment, there was a heavy tenseness.

Her father narrowed his eyes at Daeron as he spoke. "I do not need to dare. I speak with the King's voice and I am willing to forget your outbursts for the expression of concern that they are." At this Daeron scoffed derisively.

"What sort of love do you hold for your son if all that you feel is concern." Daeron mocked with a vicious glint in his eyes before he looked towards Alicent momentarily before looking back at her father. "Though one cannot be surprised given your…history." Alicent stiffened at the slight, and the words only took what was a tense situation into a stifling one.

Her father bristled silently at that and for a moment, his composure truly broke at the offense but her father managed, in the silence that reigned, to control himself.

"Nevertheless" Her father continued, his tone of voice now acidic "House Velaryon will not wage war without the behest of the King and this Small Council."

Daeron looked at her father with contempt though as he answered his voice was level. "You mean you." Daeron said venomously. "And how would you stop us?"

Her father took out a scroll from inside of his garments and placed it on the table.

"By letting the entire realm know that you are disobeying a direct command of the King not to wage war and if you do so, you do so by committing an act of treason." Her father declared, his eyes narrowing dangerous and Alicent looked on nervously to Daeron, whose expression had darkened significantly.

"You have fabricated that document." Daeron accused with gritted teeth. "The King would never sign something like that."

"I was present when the King signed the decree." The Grandmaester said, confirming to the Small Council of the veracity of the scroll.

"The King was worried that his…poor health would not see his voice be heard when it mattered, especially with the matter of the Tyroshi growing tenuous so His Grace ensured his commands would be known on writ if it could not be in voice." The grandmaester said as he expanded on her husband's words, an ever ally. The grandmaester looked towards her father with a frown before he continued.

"However, the King would not have foreseen this Tyroshi betrayal."

Had Alicent not known that the Grandmaester was an ally, she might have well thought to fall for the performative words Orwyle had said.

In any case, with regards to the matter of the Tyroshi…

Tyroshi had sent back just one ship from the delegation to Kings Landing with their demands, demands of restoration of independence and revocation of most terms of the treaty, save for a few terms that gave the Iron Throne some preferential treatment alongside the return of Lord Jaspe Wylde, Lord Corlys, Ser Vaemond Velaryon and her brother, who had been the senior members of the delegation sent.

"Betrayal? It's a declaration of war." Daeron with fiery anger in his voice at the grandmaester.

"I would have to agree." Lord Beesbury stated, frowns of worry etched on his face. "If we allow a delegation sent by the Iron Throne to be treated as such, it will signal weakness to the rest of the Known World. We will have to act."

"We cannot act." Her father said as he looked at Beesbury.

"It is not in this Small Council's authority to unilaterally decide, or declare, a war. That requires the authority and the command of the King himself." Her father then looked at Daeron, some anger in his eyes showing that made it clear to Alicent that her father would not forgive the harsh words of Daeron.

"Not even the heir to the Iron Throne change this decision."

Daeron's face was one of fury but one that was controlled and slowly, after a few moments, the anger seemed to fade away though it was clear to hear in his voice.

"I will see the King." He declared as he swept around only to be faced by the King's Guard. "Move." He demanded but the King's guard, Ser Criston and Ser Erryk, moved not.

Alicent looked on nervously and she glanced around the table and she noted that she wasn't the only one. The Grandmaester, Lord Beesbury, her fa-

Her father looked at her intently, intensely, before he nodded minutely and Alicent realised that this was the moment. Her father looked away and towards Daeron.

"The King is resting. You will have to wait for when he wakes. Only then can we press upon the King." Daeron turned around, the anger returning to his expression with hate gleaming in his eyes.

Her father continued, unfazed by the anger and hate. "You will be informed when that happens." There was a glimmer of satisfaction in her father's voice as he said so.

"Father." Alicent said and it was hard not to let the nervousness show on her face, and soon she was beset by pairs of eyes looking her way.

"I will take Ser Daeron to see my husband." Alicent said as confidently as she could manage and she thought she had misunderstood it all when she saw the look her father gave her.

"You will not. The King must not be disturbed." Her father denied and only the difference in her father's voice did she know that it was exactly what he wanted.

Her father had always a stern tone of voice when he made clear when he expected something from her, when he demanded something of her. Her father did not have that tone this time as he'd spoken.

"I was not asking." Alicent said as she stood up. "I am Queen." Alicent looked towards Daeron who looked at her strangely, anger still in his face. She looked back at her father, her gaze lingering before she looked at the rest of the Council.

"Viserys would want to know immediately about this. I will not deny him this nor will I not aid my brother when he needs my aid the most at this time."

"Alicent…" Her father tried as he stood up but Alicent only shook her head.

"Ser Criston." Alicent said as she looked at the King's Guard.

"Your Grace?"

"Escort myself and Ser Daeron to my husband." Alicent said as she begun to walk towards Ser Daeron.

"As Her Grace commands."

"Alicent, don't." Her father tried but she walked on heedless and it wasn't long before they were out of the Small Council chambers and heading towards her husband's bedchambers, the deep tremor she felt increasing with every step she took.

'It is for my children…I have to convince him…' she kept on repeating to herself as she tried to steel her heart, to ensure that she did not fail. She would not fail.

The entire walk was silent, but she felt Daeron's gaze on her, trying to figure out what she was doing.

They arrived at the doors of her husband's chambers, guarded by the Lord Commander and Ser Marbrand. "Your Grace." The Lord Commander acknowledged inquisitively.

"Ser Daeron wishes to speak with my husband." Alicent said simply. "I have allowed it."

The two King's Guard stepped aside and let them pass and soon enough they were inside the halls of her husband's chambers, where he was accompanied by two of the maesters.

The two maesters stopped whatever they were doing and bowed before her. "Your Grace."

Alicent eyed the Velaryon and she saw him looking at Viserys with a glimmer of concern, though what exactly the root of that concern was, Alicent was not sure.

She supposed it unlikely out of concern for Viserys himself, she thought as she looked back at her husband and began to walk to his side. Over the past years Daeron had served as Master of Ships, she had gotten the impression Daeron was not impressed with her husband, even if he never voiced or made expressions that indicated so. But she could feel it in her gut that Daeron disliked her husband.

"Can he be awakened?" Ser Daeron finally asked as he got closer to her husband's bed. Alicent looked back at her husband.

The mask was no longer on his face, making what was already an unsightly look, a most terrible one where there were traces of pain etched on it.

The half of his face, the one that was hidden behind a mask, was a gaping wound in the flesh. Where an eye had once been, was only a hollow hole that extended from brow to cheekbone. Where there was once cheek, there was rotten flesh that exposed muscle and bone, which moved faintly under his weak raspy breath.

She glanced at Daeron, whose expression had shifted into a more neutral one even if there was a hard intense look on the Velaryon's face. She wondered…had he ever seen her husband as he was? Likely not. Viserys had his pride and with the exception of a few, servants and maesters notwithstanding, Viserys had oft sought to hide his ordeal from the eyes of the many.

"I would prefer not to." one of the maesters stated and Alicent looked towards the maester who was grim-eyed as he looked upon her husband.

"When His Grace is asleep like he is now, his body restores itself. Not by much but enough that it helps ensure he lives longer. I would not want to disturb His Grace's sleep unless it is of the most urgent need." The maester finished and these words darkened Daeron's expression though he did not immediately speak and Alicent took it as a opportunity to speak up.

"He's asleep seven-tenths of the day." Alicent murmured to Daeron, drawing his eyes towards her. "The few times that he is awake, it saps much of his strength. The Gods give him that mercy at least, that he sleeps more oft than he is awake."

Daeron clenched his teeth even if his expression was unchanged but she did not need to know what he was thinking.

He would do it, Alicent knew.

The capture of his father and his goodfather necessitated that he do it. But it would be a besmirching act, one that, for all of the Velaryon's greedy nature and unnaturalness, would eat at a man who claimed to have honour.

Alicent looked back at her husband, pity and guilt forming slightly in her belly.

This was no mercy, none of it was. Her words had been a lie.

Alicent thought it perhaps a punishment on her husband for denying the natural order but she found it difficult to reconcile it with what she knew of Viserys.

Viserys was a cruel man only by ignorance. He was a good man at heart. A foolish man but a good heart he possessed. He may harbour some affection to the false gods of Valyria but he was still a man of the Faith. He had few vices, few sins.

For all that their marriage was one of no real love, she harboured affection for him.

'Peace and no more pain will find you soon, husband.'

"It is an urgent need." Daeron said finally, breaking her thoughts and she looked at him and she saw Daeron looking at the maesters with a set jaw.

"Even if he made to wake" Alicent began "Even if he spoke with you at this moment, Viserys would not change his mind on avoiding war." Daeron turned his attentions to her and he narrowed his eyes at her.

Still, she continued when he did not immediately answer. "The peace my husband ushered in is one that he longs to maintain. The Stepstones, Tyrosh, all of it were not matters that concerns him more than keeping the peace does." Alicent looked towards her husband. "Your words, my words. He will not listen. Not even for my brother." A weary look fell upon her face.

"Words that truly reach my husband's ears belong only to a few." She shouldn't have been surprised at the bitterness of her words, not when they bore so much truth, even if she had used them for her father's, for her children's sake.

Alicent was only a dutiful wife to Viserys, and she served only to stow away his loneliness. No more, no less.

Daeron did not speak and Alicent resisted with all of her will not to look at him.

"I will wait until I can speak to the King." Daeron said with displeasure on his face but there was little anger now in his face and she could tell that he was willing wait entirely until Viserys had awoken.

Alicent couldn't help but feel a slight tremor run through her.

Alicent turned her attentions to the maester. "Please wake my husband, maester." Her words came quiet but it was heard by all, and she could feel Daeron staring at her.

The maester bowed his head. "As Her Grace commands."

When she looked at Daeron, she saw him looking at her intently and she buried her thoughts as she smiled gently, and sadly, at Daeron.

"I love my brother." Alicent murmured before she continued as she looked away from Daeron's eyes, watching the maesters bring a bowl of a pungent smell towards her husband. "I love him dearly and the thought that he's a hostage, under threat of death, is one that troubles me deeply. And I do not doubt you feel the same. I…I sympathise."

Daeron said nothing to that though even if he had want to respond to her words, their attentions were soon captured by the shaky sharp inhale of breath by her husband and Alicent quickly went to her husband's side, taking his rotting arm.

"Viserys? Husband?" Alicent said gently as she watched his sole eye flutter open.

"Aemma?" Viserys called out, his voice dry and raspy before it succumbed to a awful shudder intake of breathe.

Alicent flinched hard at that name before she steeled herself once more, and fell into the performance that had long been their marriage.

"No, it is Alicent" Alicent reminded gently, a false gentle smile on her face.

"Alicent…" Viserys breathed out, and slowly, lucidity begun reach through Viserys' foggy mind. "Alicent…how long…" Viserys winced and a pitiful sound escaped her husband's voice before he shudderingly breathed in. "…have I been asleep?"

"You were asleep for some time." Alicent supplied to her husband and she resisted the urge to look at the maesters. It was certain that her husband had been asleep for perhaps six and ten to twenty hours.

Rarely was he awake for longer than it was needed for him to be fed though she suspected her father had Viserys' medicine cut to allow him to be lucid for this moment.

Viserys made a noise that made it clear that he understood. "Is…Rhaenyra here?"

Alicent shook her head as she spoke. "She remains on Dragonstone, my love." Alicent stated and Viserys seemed to sigh heavily before he closed his eye, and it allowed her to glance at Daeron who seemed to study Viserys with an inscrutable expression.

She could imagine what he must be thinking…how long does he left? Can we act without the King's approval?

The greatest advantage they had however, was that Viserys had long been weakening, years even, and he'd looked, behaved, just as he was now.

Viserys open his eye and he looked around, finally noticing Daeron. "Daeron."

"Your Grace." Daeron said before he bowed his head and the side glance the man made towards her signalled her to speak on his behalf.

"Ser Daeron has news of Tyrosh. Urgent news." Alicent said before she looked back at Daeron who came closer and after a signal from her husband, Daeron gave the accountings of what had happened in Tyrosh.

Daeron was animated, passionate, grievance made into voice and words, such was the way Daeron had spoken to her husband about the betrayal of the Tyroshi, of the crimes committed against his family, and the need to answer the offenses immediately.

Alicent's heart felt like it was jumping out of her chest and it took all of her effort not to bite into the edges of her nails.

'Cease your incessant bitings. It gives you away more than you know.'

Her father had said as he told her what she needed to say yet as Viserys remained silent, lucid and listening, the terror of what she feeling felt overwhelming, treasonous thought creeping in if her father's assessment of her husband would be wrong, that all of this deception would nought for it all hinged on Viserys.

They needed Laena in Kings Landing. They needed Laena captured and imprisoned. Without Vhagar, Rhaenyra's faction would fall apart.

If Rhaenys remained on Driftmark…

Rhaenys would not act whilst her daughter was imprisoned and neither would Laenor risk his sister. Corlys might have but Rhaenys would not.

And without the Velaryons, Rhaenyra would only have the Vale and even the Vale would be contested when the Gulltown Arryns rose in rebellion, forcing them to act to protect Jeyn Arryn.

There was the potential that Laenor would act in defence of his wife but she doubted it would happen for the love Laenor bore his sister was far greater than any love he held for Jeyne, who was no more than a companion.

That meant that there was a window where her sons could capture Dragonstone if, or when, Baelon was defending Jeyne Arryn, allowing them the chance to end the war without much bloodshed. Baelon had no need to die either, for as long as he gave up Vermithor. The claims of the children would have to be foresworn. The children's dragons would all have to be killed but it was a small price for their lives.

But all of that could not happen if Laena was not removed.

"Gwayne…" Her husband said as he weakly raised his hand and placed it on top of hers and Alicent blinked her eyes shut. 'My brother is safe…he is safe…' she told herself but she could feel it, not truly. She reopened her eyes though she said nothing she met her husband's eye.

A few moments passed before he closed it shut, his face etched in discomfort. "No…no war." Her husband's voice was croaky, raspy, and she realised the tenseness of which she was under when she looked at her hands.

Her father knew. Her father knew that Viserys would not seek conflict, even if it meant losing her brother.

She quelled the anger she felt at Viserys though she did not stop to withdraw her hand from underneath Viserys' blotted, wounded fingers.

"Your Grace!" Daeron stepped closer, anger in his voice but he stopped still at the sound of a sword being drawn out of its sheathe.

"Remain where you are, Ser Daeron." Ser Cole's voice was cold and the look in the knight's expression was as chilling as the threat that

"Stand…down. Ser Cole." Her husband said before he looked at Daeron with rare sharpness. "I…cannot send…dragons against…Tyrosh. I will not…sanction it." Her husband winced, his face tightening up slightly with pain. Still her husband continued on with surprising authority. "Be patient. They will not kill Corlys…your father" Her husband looked at her as he spoke further "Or Gwayne. It…would doom them. They know it." Her husband closed his eye.

"Bring…me Otto…I must…speak with him."

Those words threw Daeron in a rage and Alicent knew she had to speak up otherwise the Velaryons may well lose all of their patience.

"Husband, Hear out House Velaryon's proposal, when they bring a new one" Alicent said quietly as she leaned forward and placed her hand on her husband's shoulder, a look of pleading on her face. "This is not their only course of action to save Lord Corlys, Daeron's father or my brother." Alicent said before she glanced at Daeron momentarily before looking back at her husband.

"Please?" she said a lot quieter, her voice verging on begging. Viserys looked at her for a long moment before he raspily breathed out.

"Very…well. Bring me…a different way…now leave me…bring Otto to me." Her husband said before he closed his eye, breathing in and out more weakly and Alicent swallowed before she rose to her feet.

She looked at Daeron who stood tightly wound fixed in place, staring at her husband with a look she could not recognise and Alicent placed her hands behind her back as she tried not to let the nervousness overwhelm her, remembering everything her father had told her she needed to say in this moment.

"Ser Daeron, please walk with me." Alicent said quietly and it broke Daeron out from his stare at her husband and as she walked towards the doors, Daeron stiffly begun to walk alongside her, Ser Criston following in her shadows.

After they'd left her husband's bedchambers, there was a long few moments where neither said anything though, much to her relief, it was Daeron who spoke first.

"Your Grace." Daeron said with what she thought might be some discomfort and when she looked at him, she was surprised to see to see him look uncomfortable.

"I apologise for my…earlier words in the Small Council chambers." Daeron said before he set his jaw slightly, avoiding to meet her gaze. "It was…unfair. Unkind."

"You are forgiven." Alicent said, looking back to their front. It was a few moments before she spoke up again. "My father values duty greatly." Alicent said before she murmuringly added. "Perhaps too greatly."

All of them, her brothers, herself, even her children. They were all but extensions of her father and his duty to their House. Duty to the legacy of House Hightower.

Alicent had long accepted that, before even her father had ordered her to seduce Viserys and make herself Queen. Only this time, she was playing the game not only for her father's sake, but also for her children, and her grandchildren.

"Daeron." Alicent said suddenly as she stopped him as her hand fell on his arm, surprising him for a moment before he looked at her with a glint of distrust.

"House Velaryon cannot act without Viserys' approval." The distrust in Daeron's eyes grew far more but she pressed ahead anyway.

"Already the Realm believes that your House considers itself equal to House Targaryen and if you go ahead and war with Tyrosh, that belief will solidify."

Daeron scoffed at that as he pulled away from her hand. "What they believe matters not."

"No?" Alicent was quick to respond. "Then you are truly foolish." Alicent said harshly and she believed it too. The Realm's beliefs mattered. The Lords mattered. To think otherwise, even with dragons, was to invite doom.

Rhaenyra never understood that. And may the Gods ensure that she never does.

This stopped Daeron completely. She pressed on.

"My husband prefers and desires peace but he is not blind. It is the very reason why he chose your daughter to be Queen after Rhaenyra." Alicent said and Daeron narrowed his eyes at that, undoubtedly thinking about how genuine her words are.

Even if they were…careful not to give away their seizure of Kings Landing, even if they were careful in the Red Keep and in the Small Council, always, always, paying lip service that Rhaenyra was the next ruler of Westeros, the sense that Daeron must have set him somewhat unease.

Her father's influence in the Red Keep was seen everywhere.

It would not be hard to imagine that Daeron sensed this and in turn, so too was Rhaenyra aware.

But neither she or her father, or the supporters of the one true king, her son, would give the game away. Not until it was time.

"However, should House Velaryon overreach, as you would in this act, the outrage in the Realm would be…severe. Especially once the news of the decree spreads. My husband, and Princess Rhaenyra, would not be able to ignore it. Not after the last time my husband tried to ignore a matter of import, such as the heresy." Alicent pointed out to Daeron and the man's expression flickered with something she was not quite sure on how to read.

Her husband had disavowed Aegon the Heretic but he'd done so far too late and the whispers that had grown in that silence of his had been heard by anyone who had a measure of the Realm's situation.

To the point that even her husband could no longer ignore the situation, lest he invite doubt of his own faith in the true gods, lest he makes himself out to be a heretic in the mould of his brother.

And her husband had grown weary because of it, retreating ever more into himself, and stances he'd long held were no stances that were immovable.

Even when it came from her father.

And the Small Council knew it too.

"What do you suggest then?" Daeron demanded as he fixed her with a harsh glare.

"Wait for your husband to come to his senses?" Daeron said with a smidge of contempt in his tone. It was hard to imagine that Daeron seemed to deeply respect her husband, once upon a time.

His time on the Small Council had certainly erased that.

"This would not have happened had he not allowed them to grow emboldened after years of inaction." Daeron said with rising anger though he got a hold of himself as he continued.

"Every day that passes whilst the King waits" Daeron said with a contemptuous look at Ser Criston who did not like the look or the words a single bit "is a day where my father, my goodfather, and even your brother, are one step closer to death. It's an indignity that cannot be suffered."

"I agree." Alicent said easily, earning herself narrowed eyes from Daeron. She looked at Ser Criston. "Ser Criston. Step away for a moment. Out of hearing."

"Your Grace" Ser Criston begun to protest but Alicent only shook her head, stopping whatever he had to say and she fixed him a look that made him agree.

When Ser Criston had stepped away, far enough, did she speak again. "I agree and that is why if my husband refuses to approve acting against Tyrosh to get my brother back, even after your wife or your goodmother pressed my husband" Alicent breathed out for a moment before she continued.

"I will support whatever you or your House decides." Alicent said as she met Daeron's gaze who seemed utterly attentive to her. "I will say Viserys had given his approval and suffer the consequences for my brother's sake."

Daeron was silent for a long few moments.

"Why not do so now?" Daeron posed and though she did not hear suspicion, she doubted that there was none.

"Because my husband is King." Alicent stated before she closed her eyes momentarily, presenting the picture of a woman doing her duty. She was doing her duty. "I must give him a chance to do right" she said as she reopened her eyes.

"And I believe he will, when he is confronted by those he considers" Alicent swallowed a little as she paused, the words that are coming out of her were words she had long felt "family. As I said…Viserys only has ears for few people."

Daeron was silent once more, both sets of eyes unblinking as they stared at each other.

Many moments passed, each moment growing longer and longer, until finally, finally, the tense silence broke but she found no real sense of relief.

"Your Grace." Daeron said with a respectful but minute incline of the head before he walked away and she watched the back of him, and she realised that she had released the breathe she'd been holding the entire time.

She swallowed tightly as she brought her thumb to her lips.

Did it work? She did not know. Gods have mercy…she hoped it worked. It had to have worked.

"Your Grace? Are you well?" Ser Criston's worried tone of voice broke her out of her dark reverie and she turned to face him.

The Stormlander had a face of genuine concern as he approached her. The one good thing Daemon had done had been to bring her Ser Criston. Even if it came at a heinous, murderous cost.

"I am fine, Ser Criston." Alicent said with a false smile.

Ser Criston didn't seem to believe her but knew better than to question it and he escorted her as she walked to her chambers, her mind returning back to everything she said, everything she had to say to plant the seed needed to draw the Velaryons to Kings Landing.

When she arrived at her chambers, she found it, unsurprisingly, occupied.

"Daughter." Her father intoned as he turned to face, undoubtedly having been pacing around in her chambers, a look of command on his face.

The words fell out of her mouth easily, as she told her father everything that happened and increasingly, a look of displeasure grew on his face.

Though that look of displeasure made way for a pensive one, and she fidgeted nervously as she watched him.

"Do you believe it worked?" Her father finally asked after some time.

Alicent swallowed drily before she answered. "I think so."

"You think?"

Only two words and she almost buckled under them, and she bit her tongue to help her steel herself. "I do not know for certain. I was afraid to push too much."

Daeron was obviously suspicious of her. Severely so. To push for him to send for his wife and his goodmother would have rung suspicions as loud as the bells of the Starry Sept.

Her father was silent for a moment before he sighed heavily, a heavy tired look forming on his face. "We shall see if you were successful or not shortly." Her father looked at her, graveness in his eyes. "For if you have failed, we are certain to lose this war of ours…and our lives."

Alicent brought her bleeding thumb to her mouth and after nibbling on the raw, bleeding skin, did she speak again. "What if they do not take heed and seek their retribution without Viserys' approval? Rhaenyra might even give them approval."

Her father shook his head. "She won't. Not officially." Her father said with utmost confidence, confidence she did not share in the least.

"Rhaenyra knows her position is weak. Viserys has skewed tradition in one of the most offensive ways by choosing a daughter over a son." Her father frowned a little as he paused before continuing.

"She knows that her father's wishes are the sole reason why she is heir. If she disobeys his decree, if she disobeys her father, then what weight does Viserys' word truly hold? She will not risk Viserys changing his mind by acting in a manner that may see her disinherited for Aegon." Her father said in answer.

"You think she's still worried? After all this time?"

Her father looked at her. "She's always been worried, Alicent. She always will be. It is part of the reason why she has hidden herself away at Dragonstone." Her father's expression broke a little.

"However, the chance is high that the Velaryons disobey regardless." Her father said grimly and though he voiced out nothing of the sort, she knew that her father was blaming her for failing.

"However" her father continued "I think Rhaenys may yet seek official approval from Viserys. Rhaenys is aware enough that the whispers would grow louder about House Velaryon's filiality to House Targaryen which would harm both Houses, particularly Rhaenyra." Her father assessed before he continued. "And then there are the Velaryon designs on Tyrosh, which are certain what I suspect it to be."

She was clever enough to know that her father meant that House Velaryon wanted Tyrosh as part of their domain. Everything seemed to be heading that way.

Her father let off an exhale of breathe before he shook his head gently.

"All we can do now is wait." Her father said.

"May the Gods favour us still." Alicent murmured before she sent a small prayer to the Father.

"Aye…I pray that they may do so. For all of our sakes." Her father said grimly before he walked past her and out of the door and all Alicent could think off was that she would not sleep well this night…or the next night.

And perhaps…she may not sleep well ever again.

-Break-

Early 129 AC – Driftmark

Rhaenys POV

Laenor passed the letter onto Daemion before he looked at her and Laena after he'd finished reading the letter Daeron had sent back "What will we do?" Laenor asked, his expression gravely worried.

None of them said anything for a long few moments, stricken as they were by the contents of the letter.

A Velaryon ship brought back Daeron's letter and he'd written the King would not sanction, permit, House Velaryon to take necessary action to get her husband back from the treacherous Tyroshi, and that not even the Queen's brother's captivity would yield Viserys from his desire of keeping his damnable peace.

Rhaenys should have known better. She did know better.

But she'd hoped, she'd hoped, that history would not repeat itself.

Laena stood up suddenly and Rhaenys was drawn out of her thoughts and from the look on Laena's expression, she did not have to think hard on what she thinking of doing. "I will go to Dragonston on Vhagar" said Laena, her voice barely contained with anger. "Rhaenyra will convince her father. Daeron's letter is clear. We need Rhaenyra to change his mind."

Daeron had also written to say that it was imperative that Rhaenys and Rhaenyra come to Kings Landing and force the King to change his mind.

Though if he did not, Daeron remarked they should go and get her husband and her goodbrother back without the King's approval, and that the Queen would support them in this, and with the Queen's support, would come the Hand's.

Not because of want, but because of necessity.

Daeron had been explicit in saying that the Hand was more interested in weakening them than he was saving his son, and that he would seek to create a wedge between themselves and Rhaenyra if they gave them the opportunity.

And she could understand the reasoning. House Velaryon's reputation was already one of a overly powerful vassal and presently, her maiden House had suffered greatly in the eyes of the realm in terms of prestige.

Her cousin Aegon's deeds with the Faith, Viserys' far too long silence on the matter, Daemon's death, Rhaenyra's selection as heir…

If they went ahead and disregarded this decree of Viserys', though she did not believe her House would suffer any consequences from Viserys, she knew Rhaenyra would likely suffer in their stead. Questions would be raised. Questions such as whether or not House Targaryen rules the realm or if House Velaryon does.

Rhaenys honestly did not care.

But she did care what Rhaenyra would think to do when she faced pressure from the Realm, all in the appearance of seeming strong.

And if a war in House Targaryen did happen, it would be clear that Rhaenyra won because of House Velaryon and their dragons.

And given that the woman was prone to buckle under pressure, she might do something truly foolish and deny Corlys the prizes he so desires in Tyrosh and in the Stepstones…

"Why do we have to obey that fool?" Daemion said with seething as he captured all of their attentions. "We don't need his damned approval. We have enough men and enough ships and we have Vhagar." Daemion said as he looked to Laena.

"We'll burn them. One by one until we get our fathers back."

"And Seasmoke." Laenor muttered though there was something in her son's eye that told her he was not against the proposition. And, as she looked at Laena, she could tell too that neither she was against it either.

And truthfully…

She too wasn't against the proposition at all.

They dared…they dared take her husband with such…moronic impunity.

And she knew as well that they would not have dared had it not been for the weakness of Viserys…who embodied all of the weakness of her grandsire and none of his few, few redeeming qualities.

The signs had been there, long before they stopped honouring the terms of the treaty. Driftmark's merchants complaining about the inhospitality of Tyrosh, the loss of goods, the custom officers harassing their sailors.

They should have addressed it then, before it got as bad as it had for the past few years but she'd convinced Corlys to be patient, to wait for Viserys to die and finally have his Tyrosh as his prize, as a prize for their grandson, his namesake.

She wished she hadn't. Especially now that she did not believe Rhaenyra would come to their aid against her own father.

"You may go to Rhaenyra but I will go to Kings Landing immediately." Rhaenys said to Laena, speaking up for the first time since she'd read the letter.

"What? Why?" Laena asked in short temper and Rhaenys fixed her daughter with a look that settled her down a little.

"Because every day that passes, is another day your father remains imprisoned and I will not wait for Rhaenyra to conjure up her bravery for your fathers' sakes." Rhaenys said with angry sternness, her hands slightly clenching.

She would not rely on Rhaenyra for her husband's life.

Not when Rhaenys knew the woman all too well and none of this would have happened if only Rhaenyra had listened to her but she'd refused time and again.

Even her husband was unable convince her that no matter what, she needed to stay in Kings Landing and fight to secure her position as heir.

Her words of warning, of her own experiences of having lost her heirship whilst she resided at Driftmark, something she long since considered had made her grandsire's betrayal easier for he could not look her in the eyes and tell him that her father's heir, his only child, was going to be usurped by her uncle, had done nothing to evoke the necessary urgency in Rhaenyra.

Kings Landing is where power of the Realm resided…where decisions were made that affected all. Yet Rhaenyra would not be moved. Would not change her mind.

And Rhaenys knew that it was because of cowardice. She could not stand the challenge of wrestling influence away from the Hightowers,

She was afraid of the Hightowers.

The woman chose, and continued to choose, the easy path, not realising that her path was never going to become easier, for the challenge of her gender would last her entire lifetime, even as Queen, and Rhaenys did not have confidence that Rhaenyra would choose the right path in this either.

"Daemion. Laenor." Rhaenys addressed her son and her nephew. "I want you to prepare our men and our ships." The two men sat a little straighter at that.

"We're doing this?" Laenor breathed out but the excitement in his voice was clear to hear. For all that he'd cut his spurs against the savages of the Vale, Laenor still had a yearning to prove himself and she did not doubt that Laenor saw this as a means to that end.

"Yes but we must be cautious." Rhaenys said as she stood up from her seat. "I do not intend to stay in Kings Landing for long however in the instance that my cousin does what he meant to and supports us, I do not want it to be known that we were preparing to act against Tyrosh."

Regardless of the future impact of acting against the King's command, she would let Corlys suffer in a damned cell.

"What do you have planned? I doubt, mother, you want us to burn the city down, not when father has want of Tyrosh." Laena said before she muttered a little darkly. "Though perhaps father would forgive us if we did after their treachery."

"We will not burn the city down." Rhaenys answered before adding "Nor will we take Tyrosh. At least not yet. Your fathers' return is my main priority." Her expression shifted into one of real anger and her anger crept into her voice as her hands clenched tightly.

"We'll blockade their city, burn their ships and haunt the skies over their city and only then will we give them an ultimatum. For every single hour they refuse to return me my husband, we will burn one of their precious manses and if they still don't return your fathers'…if a single hair has been harmed on my Corlys…" Rhaenys' voice had grown in volume and in rage, her words ending when her anger grew too large, and her children and her nephew had wide eyes at her fury.

Finally, it was Daemion who had snapped out of the surprise first, and tapped Laenor on the shoulder. "Let's go cousin." Daemion paused before he looked back at Rhaenys. "By your leave?" to that Rhaenys only nodded slightly, her anger still not having dissipated.

"I can't believe the King still won't do anything even after the Queen's own brother has been taken hostage." Laena exclaimed with no small amount of disbelief as she picked up the letter.

Rhaenys was honestly surprised at that. Especially that that snake was unable to convince Viserys to do something to save his son.

She knew how much that odious man valued Gwayne Hightower, and to think Viserys had resisted the entreaties of Otto Hightower…

"If the Queen and the Hand can't convince the King, then you shouldn't go to Kings Landing, mother. Not alone." Laena said. "Wait for Rhaenyra. She'll convince her father to change his mind."

Rhaenys felt a wave of weariness wash over her. Laena was always too blinded by her friendship with Rhaenyra. Too blinded to see her friend's faults.

In all honesty, it wasn't even entirely Rhaenyra's fault either. For all that Viserys chose his daughter as his heir, he never lifted a single finger to teach her personally like her father Aemond had with Rhaenys.

Rhea Royce had tried to fill the gap but the woman did not know what it meant to be a Queen of the Realm, did not have the time with her own responsibilities at Runestone nor did she have the authority over Rhaenyra needed to teach her.

Viserys should have taught Rhaenyra her role but then…he taught her enough anyway.

So many of Rhaenyra's faults were because of Viserys. Her indecision. Her avoidance of conflict. Her entitlement. Her insecurity. Yes…Viserys taught Rhaenyra indirectly and the Realm would be the worse for it.

Baelon was the only reason why she felt the worst impulses of Rhaenyra would be restrained and why she'd gone along with silently supporting Rhaenyra.

He was the best of Daemon and Rhea Royce and if Rhaenyra was to sit on that throne, it would be because of him. And House Velaryon.

"I've made up my mind, Laena. If you want to Rhaenyra to be present when I make my case, well, you better go now." Rhaenys said to her daughter firmly.

Laena had a complicated look before she stiffly nodded and left the solar, finally leaving Rhaenys alone and she sighed heavily.

"Corlys…you and your pride…" Rhaenys murmured sadly to herself.

Corlys was not even meant to be part of the delegation. Only Vaemond was meant to go but as soon as Corlys had seen Gwayne Hightower amongst the delegation, that stupid pride of his flared up and decided to go along on the infernal delegation.

'Don't you die, Corlys. Not until I have deafened your ears for your stupidity. You truly earned it this time…'

A little later…

Her arrival and departure from the dragonpit was swift, and in short time she was escorted to the Red Keep by a few of the guards, riding through the city in the dying evening light.

She should not have been that she'd been awaited by Otto Hightower, undoubtedly the news of a dragon flying over the city reaching him quickly, an a foul mood had only soured further at the sight of this man.

"Princess Rhaenys." The Hightower said with a respectful incline of the head and there was something in his eyes as he did so. Surprise? The odious man continued. "We were not expecting your arrival." She expected more irritation than she heard.

"Apologies. I failed in my urgency to send a letter ahead. Given the nature of the situation, of course." Rhaenys said as she walked passed him and into the Red Keep and the man was quick to walk alongside her. Much to her disfavour.

"Of course." The Hightower intoned. "The King will be pleased to see you in the morning."

She stopped in her steps, surprising the Hightower and she cast a harsh look at the man she hated more nearly as much as she hated her grandsire.

"I will see him now or I will not see him at all."

She would allow no times for games.

"The King is rarely awake at this hour." The Hightower stated and when she made no move to respond, only waiting on his answer to her ultimatum, the Hightower grew more agitated until he finally nodded.

"Very well. I am sure the King will be pleased to be awakened for his cousin."

Rhaenys gave a thin smile at the Hightower. "I am sure cousin Viserys will be pleased. It has been some time, after all." She thought to remark on the man's son and his subsequent inaction to save him, but she thought better of it.

No need to complicate matters, not now.

They walked up the steps to the interior of the Red Keep, walking through halls of the stronghold, in tense silence, and a strange feeling passed over her, a sense of unease but she'd brushed it off.

She knew that the Hightowers wouldn't dare do anything, not when the scales were so not in their favour. No…the unease must merely be about this place.

This had once been her home. Where she grew up.

Where her father played with her, where her mother taught her how to braid her hair. Yet there was little here that felt like home, anymore.

On the way to the Royal Apartments, she came across Daeron who looked relieved but also worried at the sight of her.

"Princess Rhaenys." Daeron said formally, undoubtedly because of the Hightower's presence.

"Goodson." Rhaenys said with a faint smile before she lost as she looked at the Hightower thought a flicker of displeasure crossed across his face, he did the respectful thing.

"I will see you there, Princess." Otto did not wait for her respond, not that she had much intent to do so.

Rhaenys took hold of Daeron's arm and they soon walked towards Viserys' chambers.

Daeron leaned forward, getting close to her ear. "I thought you would bring with you Princess Rhaenyra." Daeron said quietly and Rhaenys glanced at him.

"We won't beg for her help." Rhaenys said sharply and Daeron reared back a little before he frowned heavily, immensely displeased.

"You don't understand, Rhaenys. He grabs hold this false peace of his like a madman." Daeron said a fast, agitated whisper. "We need her to break through or else he won't sanction us to act."

"Then he won't." Rhaenys said definitively and Daeron's expression flickered with unease before he settled with resigned acceptance, likely because he knew he could no longer stay in his role as Master of Ships which she knew was a personal achievement of his that he was highly proud of, marking his name amongst those of his Velaryon forebears.

"How are Corwyn, Jocelyn and Corlys?" Daeron asked and this time she couldn't help but smile about her grandchildren.

"They are all well. Jocelyn has taken well to her studies and Corlys still follows Corwyn around." She said with her smile widening. Corlys and Corwyn were as close as brothers could despite the age differences and Corwyn had declared that he'd take his brother as his squire in a few years and given the improvements her eldest grandson was making, it might well be a few years.

"And Corwyn is continuing improving in his arms." She said as she remembered the six and ten nameday boy almost defeat one of the knights at the castle. Her smile faded a little when remembered how Corwyn had wormed his way in with Daemion and her son Laenor. "He's looking forward to his first command."

Daeron was silent for a moment before he spoke up. "He is old enough now. I was his age when he first captained a ship." And how similar the situation might end up, Rhaenys mused.

After all, Daeron's first taste of battle and captaining was in the Stepstones.

"Though he's more of a natural on the sea than I am." Daeron said and there was not small amount of pride in his tone and Rhaenys shared that pride too.

Who could have imagined that sickly boy could have grown so strong, against all odds? Corwyn was a little smaller than boys his age, smaller than what Laenor and Daeron and Daemion had been, but his problems with the lungs was a great deal minor now. It barely affected him and he should see a long life with no trouble.

"Though whether Laena will let him go is to be seen." Daeron muttered to himself and Rhaenys' lips twitched a little. Laena loved her children fiercely, especially Corwyn. She had a hard time letting go of the protectiveness she'd harboured in Corwyn's youth.

But time waited for no one and Laena would soon find herself entrapped by that notion, when Corwyn fiercely rebelled against her protectiveness.

As all children are want to do, at one stage or another.

They arrived at Viserys' bedchambers where two of the King's Guard and Otto Hightower waited for them.

"The King is ready for you, Princess."

She was let into Viserys' bedchambers by the King's Guard, and as soon as she walked in, the maesters, one of whom was seated beside the King and working on him, all stopped what they were doing and rose to their feet.

"Princess." They intoned, one by one, before they walked towards the doors whilst she approached the right side of Viserys' bed.

"Rhaenys…is that you?" A raspy, sickly voice called out and as she neared, she got a better sight of Viserys under the light of the candles.

He cut for a poor figure. Half of his face rotted away, a cheek gone with strings of flesh remaining where there was once flesh and skin, and the other side of the face was blotted with scars that left no skin untouched.

The rest of his body…she could see how diminished he was, even without having direct sight of his body. One only needed to see his neck, which hugged his throat like a mother to a newborn.

"It is me. Cousin." Her voice was neutral as she took the seat beside the bed. It was hard to imagine that he had much left to live and whatever life he had, she thought as she watched him breathe in and out wracked with pain, was one that one would not even wish on their enemies.

"It is…good…to see you…" Viserys rasped out, and his words were words timed with his wheezes, his eye meeting her gaze, and for a moment, she wondered if he ever thought that throne had been worth it.

Aegon the Conqueror had been the only one who died with any measure of dignity. Maegor the Cruel had died ignominiously and a figure hated with little legacy but cruelty remaining. Her grandsire, out of a dozen and more children, only two had outlived him, and left an embellished legacy at the cost of nearly all of his children, and, who, by the end, was equally hated as he was loved by his wife, her grandmother.

And now…Viserys. Who had begun to rot the instance he'd sat on that throne, as if the Gods themselves had cursed him with the same rot he'd allowed in his House.

And when she realised that this could have been her fate, torn down by the weight of that throne and all of those bloodsucking schemers, who would have torn down Laenor so utterly in something that was not his fault but the fault of the Gods, who would have schemed just as they were scheming now, to unseat her, to unseat her daughter…

Her hatred of her grandsire whimpered out, finally, and in its stead, she found herself relieved of what she had escaped.

"If you had want to see me, cousin, you did not have to deny me and my children the right to see to their father's return." Rhaenys said calmly as she eyed her cousin.

Viserys coughed and she realised that he was laughing, pained and grimacing though he was.

"If…I…sent you a letter…" Viserys wheezed through his words "asking…would you have come…or would you have ignored it…like…" Viserys closed his eye momentarily and Rhaenys frowned a little at his words, and at how much effort it was taking him to say just a few words.

"I would have." Rhaenys stated before she thinly smiled. "If it had been a command."

At this, Viserys coughed again as he reopened his eye. "Yes…" There was a touch of sadness there but though Rhaenys felt pity for her cousin, it paled to her anger at his denial.

"I…did not mean…to harm you…cousin. I…do not want Tyrosh destroyed. The…anger…and fear…from the Free Cities…would be severe."

"What gave you the impression we would destroy Tyrosh?" Rhaenys said with some exasperation. "My husband is there, Viserys. I would sooner cut off mine own hand than be the means of his death."

"Will…Tyrosh…give Corlys up without…a fight?" Viserys returned. "They…will not. They did this knowing…you have dragons…they are…desperate…desperate…" Viserys paused in his speaking and his breathing seemed irregular and for a moment she feared he might well die in this moment.

"Viserys?"

Viserys breathed out a little more and she made to stand but she paused when she saw his hand moving.

"I'm…fine…" Viserys said as he eyed her, a weak smile on his ruined face. "I have…been awake…longer…than usual." Viserys' smile lessened. "Desperate…men…do dangerous…things. If they…feel they will gain…nothing…they will be…spiteful. Threatening…desperate men…is too…dangerous."

"And what do you propose Viserys?" Rhaenys said gravely, doing much to rein in her anger. Viserys' view on this was delusional.

Whilst her husband tightened the hold on Tyrosh, he did not do it so much that they would leave all sense. No, they did this because they thought they could get away with it. Because of Viserys.

"Do you think further appeasement, yielding to their demands will do anything but show that the Iron Throne can be pressured to buckle with ease?" Rhaenys said and she couldn't help but let some heat seep into her tone.

"This is the consequence of years of appeasement, Viserys!" Rhaenys realised frustration and anger were burbling up now and she breathed in heavily before she continued, at a much, much calmer tone of voice but there was still an edge to it.

"Years of turning the cheek and letting them get away with it. Every time they sabotaged, every time they harassed our merchants, not just Driftmark's but also the merchants of Kings Landing, every time they consorted with other Free Cities without our approval, every single time they were made to obey in the strictest of matters, was a time they grew emboldened, braver. Not desperate." Rhaenys said firmly, her eyes unblinking as she met Viserys' gaze, whose breathing continued to dimly echo throughout the chambers.

"And now we face the consequences of that and you have to make the right decision, cousin. You cannot turn a blind eye to this. Not again." She finalised.

There was a long stretch of silence in the wake of her words though of them had torn away their gazes from the other.

Finally though…Viserys was the one who broke eye contact as he closed his eye and for a time she thought that would be it, with how long Viserys remained silent.

"I…wanted…Tyrosh…to choose us. Choose…to join us…" Viserys said before he reopened his eye. "You are…aware…that this will not happen…not peacefully?" There was a strange quietness to his voice and she realised that this might be resignation and Rhaenys couldn't deny it, she felt a sense of relief.

"I am aware." Rhaenys stated.

The plan for Tyrosh Viserys had approved for had been to tie Tyrosh economically with the Realm, to the point where they'd be depending on the Realm. After that, the intent had been, during Rhaenyra's reign, to get the city to join freely, to get around the fear and anger that would have come from the other Cities, particularly Braavos, whose interests in the region were growing thanks to Myr.

"And you are…aware that…if I was to approve…it comes…with the command…you do not…burn the Free City down?" Viserys said and there was a tension in his expression.

Rhaenys set her face neutrally. "I am aware and we will not." Rhaenys stated.

She would not confirm exactly what they would do, not unless he asked. And she fairly certain he would not.

Viserys weakly nodded. "Good. I…will" Viserys closed his eye and she thought he was leaning further down on his pillow "speak…with Otto…and the Small Council…in the morn where…we will see…what we can do…to help."

Rhaenys did not stop the sigh of relief. "Thank you, cousin."

Viserys weakly smiled, despite his eye remaining closed. "It was…good…to see…you."

Rhaenys smiled a little, tinged though it was with pity, and she reached forward and placed her hand on his shoulder. It made Viserys' eye open.

"You…should have…been Queen."

The words shocked her stiff and it took her a while to recover.

"Viserys…?" Rhaenys said, unsure.

"If I had known…I would…not have chosen…this."

Rhaenys' eyes were wide as he'd said that before she recomposed herself.

She took a moment before she answered. "Fate has been cruel to you." Viserys made a soft, weak noise from the back throat.

She thought to say that she was glad she did not become queen. That she was content, more than just content, even if she was fearful and angry at what has happened with Corlys but she'd get him back.

Her children all lived. Her grandchildren were thriving and Driftmark was amongst the wealthiest and was the most powerful House save for her maiden House.

But she kept her tongue.

"I'll see you in the morn, Viserys." Rhaenys said as she got up.

"Yes…" Viserys said before he closed his eye and seemed to drift off to sleep.

Rhaenys watched him for a few moments.

She would have to speak with Rhaenyra when she returned. She did not think he had many moons left to live. Perhaps only weeks. She would have a word with Daeron. He should have informed them about his health, which was far worse than she last saw him.

Rhaenyra would have to prepare herself now.

She walked out of Viserys' bedchambers where she found herself amidst the King's Guard, Daeron and Hightower, the latter two looks of questioning of different grades on their faces.

"I will remain for the night." Rhaenys stated as she looked at Hightower whose impassive expression broke momentarily, and something akin to victory passed through his face, surprising her. But she realised, he must be satisfied enough given that his own son would be rescued from the Tyroshi.

Still…there was sense of nagging that bothered her.

"The apartment next to mine is empty." Daeron offered before he glanced at Otto with a raised eyebrow.

"It will be readied for you, Princess." Otto simply said before he inclined his head slightly and left them.

Soon enough, she walked with Daeron who barely was able to not ask.

"He's agreed." Rhaenys said, taking mercy on her goodson and Daeron did not hide the triumph on his expression.

"It makes things easier." Daeron muttered.

Yes…it does.

"I'll take a ship back to Driftmark." Daeron added and she nodded. She expected no less. Doubtless he'd want to keep his son close by too.

"You were light in your letter on the topic on whether or not the Hand shown any…" Rhaenys began after a little while of silence "concern for his son?"

The nagging feeling wasn't going away.

Daeron frowned at the question. "He seemed as usual. A cunt of the highest order."

"But no concern?" Rhaenys pressed and Daeron glanced at her for a moment.

"He was more…wound up. It is hard to read him at times. But he was not happy."

Rhaenys remained silent as she considered that.

"What there something you noticed?"

Rhaenys did not make any outward reaction immediately as she kept on thinking. Finally she spoke up again. "For a man whose son has been taken hostage by a hostile power…he seems...himself."

And that look of victory…

"Are you surprised though?" Daeron posed and when she looked at him, he had a dark look on his face. "The man cares not but for his position. He revels in it. Losing it would mean more to him than losing his son."

Rhaenys was not sure and that creeping feeling she had only grew stronger the more time passed, something that did not go away after she ate and after she turned in for the night.

…

…

…

She startled awake at the sudden noise and though she was groggy, she instinctively sat on her bed, edging closer to the end of the bed when she saw figures with torches racing towards her.

"Who are you?!" Rhaenys demanded with no small amount of fear in her voice.

"Rhaenys! It's me!" The familiar voice of Daeron was undeniable and she felt herself relaxed a little as he approached and though she had want to berate him for startling her to death, the look on his face stymied any desire of it.

"What happened?" she demanded.

"The King is dead!" Daeron whispered sharply before he reached out to her "We have to go!"

Rhaenys gaped in shock at Daeron, the words he said slowly but surely registering with her and her shock turned into horror. They needed to leave.

"I need to get dressed." Rhaenys said as she practically jumped out of the bed, despite being as old as she was.

"No time! They'll never let us go if we don't escape now." Daeron denied furiously and Rhaenys took stock of the third person in the room for the first time, who she could faintly see wearing a sword on his belt.

"Who is he?"

The man, no, the boy, came closer, the light of the torch allowing her to see more clearer and for the second time in the night, she was surprised for she saw a young Daemon standing in front of her. "Duncan Waters, Princess."

"Ah, Daemon's bastard." Rhaenys said in recognition and the boy's expression faltered slightly before he stiffly nodded.

"Yes, Princess."

She remembered that Daeron had built a rapport with the two bastards, particularly this one. Apparently he'd been helpful for Daeron, especially when it came to keeping Daeron informed about the happenings in the Red Keep.

She hadn't liked it much, not when it was known that he was rarely seen without Aemond's company though Daeron had said that the boy didn't care for Aemond's company but as a bastard, he could do little but entertain the hot-tempered Prince.

"He's the one who informed me that the King has passed."

"And who would you know?" Rhaenys asked sharply and the bastard was wide-eyed at the questioning before he answered quickly.

"Misa, one of the maids who tend to Viserys in the night is a girl I'm…sweet on. My chambers are not far from the King so she quickly told me before she went off to tell the Queen." The bastard said with growing impatience and agitation and he looked at Daeron as he spoke further. "Look, we can go now or I can leave you be. The longer we wait, the less this favour of yours is worth."

Rhaenys looked at Daeron inquisitively who only shook his head. "Not now, I will tell you later." Daeron said before he shook his overcoat. "Wear this, come we need to go." Rhaenys took the coat and they quickly departed her chambers.

"Where are we going?" Rhaenys whispered as they travelled the halls of Maegor's Holdfast, following the lead of the bastard.

The bastard stopped, and he raised his hand. "Stop. Hide behind the pillars" he whispered sharply as he hugged the pillar that had been in front of him and Rhaenys looked around the pillar and she saw guards on the lower floor run off to the stairs. Not a moment after they were out of view, they continue their fast pace.

"One of Maegor's tunnels. It leads directly to the gates." The bastard said quickly as he led them. "I found it, and others, after I'd read about Maegor's tunnels. If we're quick, we can get out before they lock the gates" the bastard said as he glanced over his shoulder "Especially as they probably don't want to let you go."

Rhaenys exchanged looks with Daeron as they walked at a fast pace and Rhaenys swallowed a little. It was convenient…too convenient. That Viserys died in the same night she'd came. They wouldn't have…they aren't…

She realised the nagging feeling she had the entire time she'd been in her childhood home was this.

Was this the nagging feeling she had?

"Daeron…" Rhaenys whispered as she took hold of her goodson's hand and Daeron looked at her impatient though that impatience wore at the sight of her undoubtedly deeply, deeply concerned look.

"What is it?" Daeron turned around to face her.

"It's a trap." She said in a whisper and for a moment it seemed like Daeron didn't understand but soon enough, the horror she felt dawned him to-

Rhaenys reared back, hot splashes of something splattered on her face, and a moment later, she realised that a blade, a wet, blooded blade, protruded through the side of Daeron's neck, a blade that was held by the bastard.

Rhaenys let off a gasping cry as she watched Daeron's eyes, wild and panic, search around but he could not move, was unable to move, the blade in his neck holding him firm, until, with a wet, sickening schlick, the blade was pulled away and Daeron crumpled to the ground.

"No, no, Daeron!" Rhaenys cried out as she watched him fall but before she could do anything else, think of anything else, she was stilled by the dark voice that uttered those words.

"I was so close. No matter."

Rhaenys gasped terribly as she felt the blade pierce through her chest, her heart, and she finally met the bastard's gaze, who looked at her for a moment before he looked away, as if ashamed but she knew that the bastard was not ashamed of this.

'None of them….none of them are ashamed of this…treachery…'

"GUARDS! I HAVE FOUND THEM! THE KING'S KILLERS! GUUUARDS!"

Rhaenys fell to the ground in a heavy, her breathing wet and bloody, and she looked to her left, to Daeron, whose wild and panicked eyes were now…unseeing…and her gaze became blurry, blotting, and the last thought she had, the last thing she would ever think though she would not know it…

'Forgive me, Corlys…'

-Break-

129 AC – Kings Landing

Aegon the Younger, Son of Viserys POV

Aegon groaned as he tried to turn in his bed but the warmness of his cheeks, the stinging, stirred him closer to wakefulness, until, finally, he was realising he was being slapped.

"Wake up, it's your special day." A voice said drawlingly and Aegon thought it sounded familiar.

"Stop it" Aegon demanded as he flung his hands against the offending hands, though finally he could see who was doing this to him. "Aemond?!" Aegon reacted as he scooted up the bed and sat up against the back of it. And Aemond wasn't alone either, for there was Ser Criston, a few of his grandfather's lackeys, Dorren and Egbert, and the bastard cousin Aelor. "What are you doing here?!" Aegon demanded when he got a hold of himself and he looked to his left and saw that the girl had left his bed. He wanted her in the morn…

"Coming to collect your Kingly arse so you get a damned crown on your pretty little head." His brother said with a slowly rising smirk that had that familiar dangerous but harmless quality that he'd stolen from their dead uncle.

"What?" Aegon startled as his gaze flickered away from Aemond and to the rest of the men that accompanied his brother. "What nonsense are you speaking off?" Aegon demanded but in his heart he knew it and it terrified him.

No, no, no, no, no, NO. He did not want it. No, no, no, no, NO.

He was not meant for it.

His dawning horror seemed to have made its way to his face because his brother's smirk grew more amused. "Aye, elder brother. Our father is dead and you are to be King."

"Your Grace." His grandsire's lackeys and the bastard all intoned one by one and Aegon wanted to wake from his nightmare though he was rooted to the spot.

He knew that this could happen. He knew that this would happen but now that it was happening…all he could feel was that he had to flee and before he knew it, his body moved of its own accord as he scrambled off of the bed and ran for the door.

"Stop him!" His brother said, a hint of panic in his brother's voice but they were too late, for he managed, in the moment of surprise, to get to the door and opened enough of it before they could get firm purchase on his arm…his naked arm…

'Fuck…I am naked.' Aegon realised as he scrambled through the hallway of the whorehouse, the steps of his pursuers drawing nearer, and it caused him to panic even more as he reached the stairs and in his panic, he miscalculated and he fell down the stairs, hitting his head hard against the wooden wall, and the world begun to spin around.

"Arggh.." Aegon cried out pained as he tried to get back up but he was seized by two strong hands.

"You fool!" A voice hissed out and it was that of his brother. "Give me that damned cloak!" His brother commanded before he pulled at Aegon's arms "Stand up!" He growled but Aegon's world was still spinning though his sense had returned, enough to allow him to look up to meet his brother's gaze.

Aegon's face and that of his brother's were only a few inches away from each other and the merciless look in his brother's eyes did nothing to quell the terror he feeling again at being fucking king.

"A-aemond…" Aegon began, his mouth dry. "I-I don't want to rule" Aegon said desperately. "I'm not meant for it! It's not me! It's not me!" Aegon said, the pitch in his voice rising and Aemond looked away from him for a moment and Aegon followed his gaze and saw that the whores and their patrons were all coming out of their rooms.

"Derren." Aemond growled and the burly man nodded sharply before he turned around.

"Nothing to see 'ere! Go back to yer rooms if ye know what's good fer ye."

"Let's go." Aemond growled as he pulled at Aegon, practically dragging him down the second set of stairs.

"A-aemond…please don't!" Aegon begged and he tried to twist his way out but another set of arms took hold of him and he realised it was the bastard.

"Let me go you bastard!" Aegon snapped at the bastard though moments later, a hood was covered over his head and Aegon tried harder to get out of it but it was to no avail.

They dragged him out of the whorehouse, the thin cloak the only thing that kept being entirely naked in the streets though the fact that it was the dead of night would mean that if he managed to escape, he had a good chance of getting lost with how many people were in the streets still at this hour.

And he knew enough of the city to be able to escape through its narrow paths.

Aegon jerked his arm free from the bastard and he nearly managed to twist his other arm out but Aemond's hands did not yield an-

Aegon barrelled over, gasping desperately for air as he crumpled to the floor, clutching his stomach. They hit him! They hit him!

"Arrgh!" He was jerked upwards by a hand that seized the top of his hood alongside his hair and the dangerous growling from his brother made him quiet voicing out his pain.

"You're such a wastrel." Aemond growled and his words were quiet too but he heard it loud enough.

"Then let me go. Let me go Aemond. I will leave. I-i-t can be yours!" Aegon laughed hysterically "It's yours! You can have it! Take it!"

Aegon seized the hem of his brother's cloak and he climbed up until he was back on his feet and he took hold of his brother's face with its slightly misshapen jaw.

Aegon thought he could see his brother thinking about it…wanting it…yes…yes…he's always wanted it. He always wanted Aegon's place as firstborn.

"It's yours…you can have it." Aegon whispered to his brother desperately. He did not want to be king. He had no wish to be part of the ploys and schemes and suffering his mother and all the rest of them for the rest of his damned life.

No.

No. He did not want it!

His brother's gloomy, dark expression did not change under Aegon's pleas and Aegon felt the terror grow even more as he realised they would not let him be.

"Father changed his mind on his deathbed two nights ago."

Aegon reared slightly and he let go of his brother's face. "W-w-what?"

Aemond's expression held a flicker of irritation before he spoke up again.

"He changed his mind. He wanted you to be King." Aemond scoffed "Though why…I cannot fathom."

Aegon was struck dumb for a moment as the words registered with him.

"He…h-h-he d-did?" Their father can't have changed his mind. Surely not?

Not after all of this time?

"Unfortunately for all of us. He decided you were always meant to be King. You are his firstborn son. Unfortunately."

Again, Aegon was struck dumb. "He…he just…decided?"

Aemond growled again before he took told of Aegon by his shoulder. "Yes." The word was full of irritation and Aegon started to think about it.

"Two nights ago…?" Aegon muttered before he looked at his brother, still in a daze. "Why wasn't I told?"

"You're being told now." Aemond said carelessly and Aegon was not satisfied with that answer.

"I should have been told immediately!" Aegon said irritated. Why did their father change their mind? He wanted to know but now…Aegon's irritation fell away.

"Father…he is dead? Truly?" Aegon asked and he wasn't sure how to feel about it.

"Yes. Rhaenys poisoned him."

For a moment, Aegon could not think.

"What?" Aegon guffawed hysterically, disbelievingly. Rhaenys? Rhaenys?

"I see what this is now! You're messing with me!" Aegon laughed and a sense of relief washed over him. "Who knew you had a sense of humour in that scowling head of yours?" Aegon laughed again, more out of control this time.

Seven hells, what a cruel joke. To think he even started to believe his father really wanted him in the end…

"We're not lying to you, Your Grace." The bastard said from beside him and Aegon looked at him and he saw that the bastard wore a serious expression. "The King really has been killed by treachery."

"You're lying. Not a chance that Rhaenys, Rhaenys" Aegon said with wild disbelieving eyes "would have killed father!" It made no sense!

"Will you shut up!" Aemond said as he jerked Aegon forward before he neared Aegon's ear "Rhaenys really did kill our father. He told her that the Velaryons were forbidden to attack Tyrosh and that her grandchild would not be queen." Aemond said before his brother pushed him away a little. "She took offense to that. The maesters think she killed him with sweetsleep."

Aegon was shocked at those words. "You're serious?"

Aemond said nothing, only looked at Aegon with a long-suffering look and Aegon looked away from his brother, towards the front where the Red Keep was, where they were quickly approaching towards.

"Fuck." Aegon muttered, still in shock.

"At least the bitch is dead." Aemond said and Aegon snapped his head towards Aemond who he saw with a smug smirk on his face.

'Fuck' Aegon thought to himself. Aemond glanced at him, his smug smirk falling away a little. "We're at war, now, brother. " Aegon refocused on Aemond, whose expression turned back to the familiar gloomy dangerous look he always had.

"And we won't be ever settling a peace with our enemies. Not until either we're dead…you, me, our brothers, our sister, your children" Aemond said darkly "or they are." Aegon swallowed dryly and his hands begun to shake a little.

His brother patted his shoulder. "Chin up brother. We've got much to do. Even you…Your Grace."

-Break-

The Dance of the Dragons

The Treachery that Sparked the Dance

To this day, it is uncertain if King Viserys I died of natural causes or if he was murdered. It was no secret that King Viserys I was gravely ill and on the doorstep of the Stranger's Keep.

However, the immediate events that proceeded King Viserys I's death mark it probable that there may have been foul play at hand.

Princess Rhaenys' judgment of having committed regicide had come within the hour of the King's death and the news of her crime, which had been spread by word and raven, far and wide, to the point that every town and Keep and Lord knew of the 'crime' within days, shocking and outraging the realm.

Though few trustworthy witness accounts exist of the sequence of events that sparked the Dance, there are however witness accounts that tell the true story of how Princess Rhaenys had been murdered by the infamous Duncan Waters, who later confessed to have helped the lie spread to weaken Princess Rhaenyra…