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Chapter Text

Viserys P.O.V. 

King Viserys settled into his plush bled, smiling faintly after his talk with his sweet girl, Rhaenyra. It had been a difficult one to have, convincing his daughter of the need for him to remarry which she'd reluctantly agreed to. Finally she had agreed, shoulders drooping until he'd sworn to her that he would never replace her as his heir, that he planned to see her take his throne after his death. 

And while his remarriage was not contingent on her agreement, he did want her to agree. 

Closing his eyes, Viserys fell asleep easily. 

Opening his eyes Viserys found himself standing in the Throne Room, facing the Iron Throne . . . where his beautiful wife sat. Dressed in Arryn blue with silver vines along the hem of her skirts, she was an image of beauty. His heart pounded against his rib cage, awwed by the sight of her. 

"My dear wife–"

"I am no such thing," Aemma cut him off, tone sharper than he'd ever heard it. Her blue eyes were sharp as a falcons claws, startling him. "You forsook our marriage when you gave the order to have me cut open to pull Baelon from my womb. I should never have agreed to married you when I realized just how weak a man you are. Pathetic and weak, allowing snakes to make their homes in the Red Keep, circling my daughter!"

"Snakes? What are you talking about?" Viserys asked, nigh on begging as he approached the Iron Throne. 

"I speak of the harlot that you let climb into your bed and her father."

"Why must my entire family hate Otto? He is a good man—"

"A man who sent his daughter into your bed so she could birth a boy that he, the Hightowers, and the Starry Sept would control. I know what you think of his daughter, 'a sweet and pious girl, only seeking to comfort you'. But why should it be her comforting you, rather than comforting her Mistress, my daughter! Your actions and inactions will lead to the death of my daughter and I refuse to sit by and watch!!"

"Her death?" Viserys whispered, crumbling at the base of the stairs. "What do you mean? What happens to my daughter? What happens to Rhaenyra?!"

"Your half-breed son burns her alive, while one of her last sons watchs on," Aemma hissed, seeming to take some measure of glee from his pain. "I will show you the path you are heading towards, let you see exactly what unfolds because of you."

The world around them twisted, finding Viserys in multiple diffrent places throughout the Red Keep as Aemma narrated, appearing at his side. 

"After marrying the girl, you have 4 children all of who you ignore and neglext after spending years of forcing me through pregnancies that ended in tragedy. You force Rhaenyra to marry Laenor Velaryon in the hopes of fixing your own mistakes but ignore the whispers of his interests, of how he could not 'get it up' for a woman no matter what she tried. All the while your Hand tried to convince you to replace her for your new son. At least in that you held strong."

The compliment was given with a sneer, so at odds with the roundness of her face and the gentle expressions he was so used to. 

"With her husband unable to provide children, Rhaenyra sought out Ser Harwin Strong - loyal and kind - to give them to her. She had three sons, Jacaerys, Lucerys, and Joffrey, but all looked like their father and rumors began that your daughter was a whore, all started by your pious little wife. She forced my daughter to present her youngest to her mere minutes after birth, and you saw and did nothing!! The entire court saw the trail of blood she left and you did nothing!!" Aemma was a vision even in her fury, dragon blood ignited at the knowledge of what would become of her darling little girl, the ruby of her eye. 

"After the death of Daemons second wife, Laena Velaryon, they remarried but before they had even left Driftmark your second son commited a grave offense against the Velaryons. In the night he climbed upon Vhagars back and claimed her, Laena barely having been dead a fortnight. Then when he was confronted by her daughters he laughed in their faces and taunted the younger for her own lack of a dragon when he should have sympathized. Jacaerys defended them, and when your son threatened to bash his head in with a stone, Lucerys acted in defense and took his eye."

"When brought before your wife, she demanded for a six year olds eye to be taken in recompense. And when you did not comply she took the blade you wear and attacked Rhaenyra, leaving a cut along her arm and yet you did nothing. Again. She was suffering right before your eyes and you did nothing. Laenor died less than a month later and Daemon was quick to take Rhaenyra as his wife in the ways of Old Valyria."

"In anger you banned her, banned your heir, from returning to the Red Keep. And she obeyed. For nigh on 10 years she was happy, with two new sons - Aegon and Viserys - and the daughters she'd always wanted, Baela and Rhaena, and her children. She had the love of her life, the one man who would protect her from their enemies. But the Hightowers wanted to humiliate her."

"Vaemond went through your Hand, Otto, and had a trial to decide if he should be House Velaryons next lord if his brother, the injured Lord Corlys, perished. He was able to do this because you were rotting away in your bed. The Iron Throne cut you for every bad decision you made and yet you ignored it. Tessarion sent you a warning of what would happen if you had a son and you ignored it."

"No, my dream–"

"Tessarion only sends dreams as warnings, not as promises of good fortune, you fool," Aemma spat, disgusted by his stupidity. "She showed you the boy as a herald of war, the end of everything and you ignored it."

"You died barely two days later after dragging your rotting body to the Throne Room to protest, and remind the Court that House Velaryons succession was already set. And they still usurped you."

"The war that followed kill almost everyone." 

Viserys watched in horror as his second son, Aemond, chased little Lucerys through the black clouds atop the behemoth that was Vhagar. In one bite, Vhagar had easily killed the boy and his dragon, letting go to allow their bodies to fall to the waves far below. 

Tears began to fall as his daughter mourned for her sweet boy and the babe that she had lost, Syrax hunched protectively over her as they grieved their sons. 

When Rhaenys fought Vhagar and Sunfyre, Viserys wanted to scream, only seeing the older cousin he had once toddled after in excitement and the beautiful scarlet dragon that his mother had once rode. The one who had first taken him to the skies. 

Jacaerys and Vermax fell to the waves, arrows sunk deep as Viserys, his namesake, a child, was taken by the triarchy. Only Aegon escaped, his hatchling dying after the brutal journey to carry his rider back to Dragonstone to save him. 

Joffrey, not even close to being a man, fell from Syrax's back before the she-dragon was slaughtered by the crowd of smallfolk, all the dragons were. 

Seeing Daemon, his valonqar, the boy who had once toddled after him, the same who had risen to the occasion many times to defend Viserys, fight Vhagar and sacrifice himself to win ached. It burned at the anger he always felt whenever it came to his brother. He remained loyal to the end, leaping from his saddle to plunge Dark Sister into Aemonds second eye, as Caraxes clung to Vhagar, refusing to leave his rider behind.

But watching his girl stand defiant before Aegon the Elder before being burned alive was his breaking point. To see his little girl be burned alive, screaming curses, as her little boy watched in horror was too much for him to bare. 

Finally, finally, the images stopped, allowing him a moment to grieve without the picture of his dying daughter and brother before him. 

"How-how do I stop this? How do I save Rhaenyra? Daemon?" 

"It's time for you to prove why Balerion chose you. Show the snakes that you are a dragon, not a fireless wyrm. From her blood comes the Promised Heir, the one who will face the Others and defend our world from an eternal winter. Do not fail Viserys, because if my daughter dies again you will be denied Balerions realm," Aemma warned, the world around them warping. "Do the right thing."

"I will, I swear it Aemma. I will protect Rhaenyra." 

"Do not allow our House to be destroyed Viserys. We are not gods, nor men, so we rule above the sheep. Now go. Wake."

As she commanded, Viserys woke. 

Tears fell down his pale face, gasping, heaving sobs leaving his chest as he mourned for his late wife, the regret of cutting her open tearing his heart to shreds. How could this other him have been so blind, have missed everything Alicent had done to his darling daughter, to his Heir? Rhaenyra was his heir, and yet he had done nothing to shore up her claim, even outright undermining her. 

He very much did not think about the fact that he had already begun turning into that man. 

Sitting up, he wiped his tears on a hankerchief sat on his bedside table, before completely climbing out of bed to fetch a roll of parchment, ink, and a quill. He needed a list to keep his thoughts orgnaized, to figure out what he needed to do in order to make sure Rhaenyra ascended the Iron Throne while the future was still fresh in his mind. 

1. Annul Rhea Royce's and Daemons marriage under grounds of non-consumation. 

2. Betroth Rhaenyra to Daemon to combine their claims, set their marriage for after the Stepstone. 

          - The Heir will not have a quick wedding, rather a lavish one with all the Lords and Ladies from across the Realm in attendance. 

3. The Crown will sanction a war effort in the Stepstones, to be led by Daemon Targaryen and Corlys Velaryon. Soldiers from Houses along the coast will be called to arms to fight, to ensure the war is completed quickly. 

4. Rhaenys will be offered the position of Head Lady and Advisor of the Small Council. If she accepts, she will be in charge of Rhaenyra's education, to make sure she is prepared to be the first ruling Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. 

5. Remarriage will never be an option. Any sons will be a threat to Rhaenyra's claim. 

6. Alicent will be taken as my mistress, to make sure she cannot have any power over Rhaenyra and cannot scheme with her father.

7. Otto will be sent to the Stepstones. If I am lucky, he will die in the Stepstones, but this will keep him away from my Throne for the time being.

8. Any children begotten on my mistress will be bastards, not to be raised by her but rather loyal houses, so Rhaenyra will have loyal knights to defend her.

9. It is time for me to claim a dragon, to remind people that I am not a wingless, fireless wyrm. 

10. Rhaenyra will have a full House, with ladies of her choice. 

11. I will begin searching for truly loyal houses, starting with calling for knights from Houses of the North and the Vale to start with. 

12. I will rule with Fire and Blood. I will not be Maegor, I will not be Jaehaerys, I will be Viserys Targaryen, First of His Name. 

13. It is time for me to be the King I need to be, what my daughter needs. 

14. Vaegon, Rhaella, and Maegelle will be recalled from Oldtown to be a part of Rhaenyra's household, to be her teachers. 

15. I will ask Daemon to bring healers, midwives, and others from the free cities to fill his household amd Rhaenyra's. 

16. Daemon will also have a filled Household, as will I, to make sure we have people loyal or hostages to control. 

His next order of business was to send letters out to everyone, to make sure his orders were carried out. 

Dear Valonqar, 

Daemon I have much I wish to apologize for, but I fear it will be in poor taste to do so over a letter. I would rather do so in person, but I am sorry. You were right about everything, about Otto and the snakes circling my throne and Rhaenyra. I do not know how to make this up to you, but I do wish to. 

I am sending a letter to the Citadel to annul your marriage to Rhea Royce. 

We have much to discuss Daemon, and I wish for you to return to the capitol quickly so I might share the many revelations I have had this past night. 

Love Lēkia.

Viserys had no idea if the letter would be enough to bring his brother back, but he hoped it was. The next letter was not nearly as difficult to write, his regret of how the Great Council went easy to pull on. 

Cousin,

I have many regrets Rhaenys, and one of them is how the Great Council went. You would have been an amazing Queen, Rhaenys, unbending and strong. But that never came to pass. I am extending an invitation for you to join my Small Council as an advisor and the Head Lady. I also extend an invitation for your eldest daughter to join my daughters Household as her lady. 

I have much I need to discuss with you and your husband, Lord Corlys Velaryon, including my future marriage and the Stepstones. Snakes have begun circling my daughter, Rhaenys, and I need your help to teach her how to protect herself from them. With Aemma dead, she has no one to teach her of the Womans Court, and I was not trained to be Heir, not as you were. 

Rhaenyra's education will be under your perogative, to make sure she only gets the best to teach her. A letter shall be sent to the Citadel to recall Vaegon, Maegelle, and Rhaella, so that Rhaenyra can learn from them without worrying of their loyalty and true intentions. 

For too long I have let myself be poisoned, but the time has come for me to be a dragon once more and I wish for you to be at my side. 

I apologize Rhaenys, for everything that I have done, for every slight against you but I wish to fix it. 

Love Viserys. 

Closing his eyes, Viserys steadied himself before continuing on to the less emotional letters that would be sent out. 

High Speton Clarence Flowers, 

Under grounds of non-consumation, I hereby announce the marriage of Daemon Targaryen, Prince of House Targaryen, and Rhea Royce, Lady of House Royce, annulled, effective immediately. 

Archmaester Vaegon Targaryen, Mother Rhaella Targaryen, and Septa Maegelle Targaryen are hereby recalled to Kings Landing by order of the King, effective immediately. 

Letters are to be sent to every Major and Minor House to announce the annulment of Lady Rhea Royce and Prince Daemon Targaryen, at once. 

King Viserys, First of His Name, King of the Andals, the First Men, and the Rhoynar, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, Protector of the Realms

That was easy. Now he would send letters to Lady Rhea Royce - to apologize for not dissolving the marriage sooner - and Lady Jeyne Arryn - also to apologize, as well as to ask for knights she trusted to be sent along to join Rhaenyra's and his household. He needed to appease them, show that just because his wife was dead he wouldn't forget about them. 

Dear Lady Rhea Royce,

I apologize for never dissolving your marriage to my younger brother. A letter has already been sent to the Citadel to have it completely annulled. If you choose to remarry, the wedding shall be funded from mine own coffers, and an extra bride price of 1,800 Golden Dragons. 

King Viserys Targaryen

Dear Lady Jeyne Arryn,

The marriage of Lady Rhea Royce and Prince Daemon Targaryen has been annulled. 

I ask, not as your King but as the husband of your cousin, for you to choose knights who will be completely loyal to Rhaenyra so they might fill the ranks of her Household, to make sure none will challange her. 

King Viserys Targaryen

Sealing the letters, Viserys sighed in relief, flexing his aching hand. Standing his back cracked, finally relieved of the hunched over position it had been forced into since before the sun had even come up. Now the warm light filtered through the curtains.

Dressed only in the robe he'd tugged over his nightclothes, Viserys pushed the door to his quarters open, finding Ser Steffon Darklyn and Ser Harrold Westerling at his door, much to his relief. He honestly had no idea what he would have done had Arryk or Cole been at his door. Perhaps had their heads taken off. 

Both men look surprised to see the King awake so early. 

"Is everything alright, your grace?" Ser Harrold questioned, eyes flicking past Viserys to scan his foyer. 

"Apologies, Ser Harrold, for the early morning, but yes, everything is quite alright. I simply have letters I must send out." 

The two men nod, falling into step behind their King as he heads towards the rookery. Luckily because of the early hour only a few are awake and a novice aids him in giving the correct letter to each raven to send out. 

Watching his letters disappear into the distance does nothing to ease the way his heart squeezes, and the way his stomach twists. He had no idea if this would work, if any would heed him, but he had to hope. 

Staring into the distance he makes a decision. Turning on his heel, Viserys crosses the Holdfast towards Rhaenyra's rooms though he hesitates at the door. 

Taking a deep breath Viserys knocked, waiting for her to call  and allow him to enter. 

"Rhaenyra," Viserys began, choking up as the unbidden image of her being burned alive came to him. She looked surprised to see him, quickly standing to properly greet him but he waved it off. "You are my daughter, the only time you need to greet me as King is when we are in public, dear girl."

Rhaenyra blinked, surprise evident before she tucked her emotions away, gesturing for him to sit at the small table. Glancing around it hit Viserys that she had not - nor would she in the future - moved to the Heir's Rooms, or rather Heirs Floor. Or perhaps she would wish to stay in the Queen's Suite's, since they'd be more fit for a woman of her status. 

"My dear girl, I hate to speak of such heavy topics so early in the morn, before we've even broken our fast, but it must be done. In the months since I have named you heir I have done nothing to shore up your claim, to make sure that your claim will never be contested. I intend to fix that. I intend to fix many of the wrongs I have comitted against you."

"Wrongs?" Rhaenyra asked, nose scrunching. "Father, I don't understand–"

"Let me explain, my dear. And know that I regret my actions and wish to do better. I betrayed you, and Daemon, so many times and yet your uncle has always returned. Now I see that he was right about many things. There are many things I must fix when it comes to Daemon and I," Viserys admitted, slumping slightly in the dining chair. "The night of your Mothers funeral, Alicent . . . Alicent came to visit my chambers late in the night and offered to read to me. I thought it a simple kindness, and let her stay. Invited her to continue coming, not realizing that she was neglecting her duties to you. Yesterday . . . Yesterday I spoke to Otto and asked for his permission to take Alicent as my wife. Rhaenyra, I am so sorry for my actions. For too long I have allowed Otto to rule through me, hiding away in my chambers like I am still a green boy and not a king."

"That changes today. Letters have been sent to the Citadel to have Rhea's and Daemon's marriage annulled, and to recall Archmaester Vaegon, Septa Maegelle, and Mother Rhaella back to King's Landing so you will have an education befitting my Heir and a future Ruling Queen. I have asked that Lady Jeyne send knights to join your household, so that you are not seen as a mere princess but my heir, the Crown Princess. Along that line, I ask that you begin looking for ladies to begin accompanying you."

Rhaenyra stared, eyes wide. She was still caught on the fact that the woman she called her best friend was sleeping with her father. 

"You need people from other Houses to help you form alliances, to make sure you hold their loyalty. I know it will be difficult after Alicent, but I swear to never make such a horrendous mistake again. These girls will be your friends, your closest companions, the ones who will support your ascension to the Iron Throne. And in the case of your enemies, they will be hostages to make sure they won't threaten you. I will be doing the same, seeing as my household is also quite small, and I will be . . . asking Daemon to do the same, since so many look up and fear my brother."

"It has also occured to me that your own marriage will be incredibly important, but I would wish to leave it to you. But I will propose one betrothal . . ." Viserys hesitated, the automatic urge to decry Daemon surging up but the memories of the dream held it at bay. "Daemon. It would unite your claims, but he would not rule through you, I would make sure of that. He would be your sword, your executioner, whatever you needed just as he has been for me."

"Father . . ." Rhaenyra whispered, eyes wide. "What has brought these changes about? Why now? Why not sooner? When you named me heir? Or before mother died?!" 

Her voice cracked horrendously, lovely purple eyes filling with tears. 

Viserys couldn't help the way his own tears gathered, "I don't know. I don't know why I didn't do it sooner, before . . . Before we lost Aemma. I should have done it sooner, you're right, but I didn't, so I am fixing it now. The plans I am making now are to make sure you ascend the Iron Throne, to make sure the threat of usurption is completely erased or negated."

Rhaenyra was still hesitant - the wounds too deep to be healed with pretty words - but the part that loved her father believed him. 

"You say you have betrayed Daemon and I but have you done anything more than annuling his marriage to apologize?" Rhaenyra asked. Viserys smiled at her, so softly that it startled her. 

"The letter I sent to my brother contained an apology and the wish for us to talk. I would give him back the position of Commander of the Gold Cloaks—" And perhaps the title Protector of the Realm, or Master of War, he hadn't decided and he knew Daemon would have an idea. "–Or any other position if he so wished to try again. I never should have allowed that snake to become Hand of the King, but I am blind, my dear girl, I always have been."

She took his hand, squeezing. 

"Is there anything else you wish to surprise me with?" Rhaenyra asked, cracking a smile. She was only slightly joking. 

"I will have a chair and orb commissioned for you within the month, because you are my heir and your voice will be heard. The Small council will also go through some changes, to make sure the Kingdom is truly being taken care of. Alicent will also never become my wife, rather my mistress so I can keep her close to make sure she does not try anything."

"Changes? What kind of changes? And what if she has sons?" 

"The kind where new positions will be open, but I wish to leave them up to you. One day it will be you choosing your Small Council, and I want you to have a taste of the difficulties that come with doing so. Hopefully Rhaenys will take up my offer to become an Advisor so she may be able to help, and Vaegon, Maegelle, and Rhaella have been recalled so they can always help as well. Perhaps I could ask that Rhaenys and Daemon retrieve them so they don't have to travel so far and long."

"Any sons Alicent has will be taken away and given to Houses that have assured their loyalty, so that they will be raised as knights or scholars that owe their loyalty to you alone, my dear. 

Rhaenyra's lip trembled, before she threw herself into her fathers arms, something she hadn't done since she was a small child racing into the Small Council room. Viserys immediately held her close, shedding tears for the Rhaenyra of the future and the boys she had lost and would not know in this life. 

"May I have the pleasure of breaking my fast with you my dear girl? I would love to hear of Syrax. Has she yet grown to accomadate a second rider?" 

Rhaenyra lit up, happily speaking of her beautiful dragoness and wiping away her tears as the servents swept inside with plates of smoked deer, cold cheese's, and breads with bowls of honey to spread. 

Viserys felt lighter than he had since the dream and hoped for everyday hence forth to be like this. 

Chapter Text

Daemon P.O.V.

Daemon leaned back against the painted table, eyes focused on the rain pouring down outside the castle of Dragonstone. He could feel Caraxes irritation, the red wyrm having never enjoyed the rain, only flying through it when his rider asked it of him. 

Behind him were battle plans, all focused on the Stepstones. Drawings of the island, the numbers of ships and men he would possibly be facing, how many men Corlys could send and so many other things that it sent his head spinning. But he persisted. 

If Viserys was set on ignoring him, he would conquer his own kingdom. Rule as his own King. A far better one than Viserys had ever been. 

His inner musings were interrupted by a male servent, "My Prince, a letter has been sent from the King."

Daemon cocked an eyebrow, a smirk tigging at his lips. "And what does my brother have to say?" 

"I-I do not know, my Prince. It seems to be written in High Valyrian," The Servent admitted, flinching when Daemons eyes snapped back in his direction. 

"High Valyrian?" Daemon demanded, marching over. "Give me that!" 

He snatched it, quickly unfolding the paper to read the familiar curving letters of High Valyrian, though some letters were too thick or thin, drops of ink across the page denoting the writers unfamiliarity with the written language. 

Dear Valonqar, 

Daemon I have much I wish to apologize for, but I fear it will be in poor taste to do so over a letter. I would rather do so in person, but I am sorry. You were right about everything, about Otto and the snakes circling my throne and Rhaenyra. I do not know how to make this up to you, but I do wish to. 

I am sending a letter to the Citadel to annul your marriage to Rhea Royce. 

We have much to discuss Daemon, and I wish for you to return to the capitol quickly so I might share the many revelations I have had this past night. 

Love Lēkia.

His first reaction was to scoff, but after rereading he wondered if his brother had finally seen sense. For years he had tried to get his brothers attention, to recieve his love and adoration but nothing had ever been enough. It wasn't until he did something wrong - or until Viserys was told he had done something wrong - for him to get any attention, so that is what he had resorted to. 

Fourteen Flames, he'd specifically stolen Baelon's egg but he'd sent that cunt instead. And it had only hurt Rhaenyra in the end. The look in her eyes when she had seen the green shell had buckled his resolve, made him nearly fold right then and there. But that cunt had been watching so he'd been forced to buckle down. 

Leaving the Painted Table, Daemon returned to his quarters to think on it. It wouldn't do to return in a hurry just to be humiliated by the Highcunt. 

Undressing, he blew out the candles and settled into the bed Visenya had once slept in. While it took a while for sleep to claim him, Daemons mind running wild, it eventually came. 

Opening his eyes Daemon found himself in Valaena's garden - built by Aerion Targaryen to honor his wife for giving him three children - with Aemma sitting beneath the Weirwood tree embroidering. Daemon's gaze paused on her before he continued looking around, confused since he'd never spent more than a few minutes in the gardens at any point in time. 

Especially since the dream was surprisingly detailed. 

"He does want to apologize," Aemma began, glancing up at him. "Viserys has finally seen the error of his ways, seen the path he has sent our House hurtling towards, but he needs help. No matter what he says he is not one for confrontation, and he needs you. Rhaenyra needs your support. Especially since you seem to be doing everything in your power to undermine her claim."

"I have done no such—"

"You threw a tantrum when the position of Heir was taken from you, stole my sons egg, and forced her to confront you. And the path you walk in the future . . ." Aemma shook her hand, standing. Far shorter than he, she wasn't very intimidating but something had him pausing. "Nearly dying in the Stepstones, taking her to a brothel to ruin her and trying to convince Viserys to marry you two. Because of you she was forced to marry Laenor Velaryon and seek children elsewhere while you fled hundreds of miles away, to a completely different continent."

"That will not happen again. You will not abandon my daughter to the snakes, you will not allow them to attack three inoccent children, and you will not allow Otto Hightowers daughter to force my daughter to walk minutes after birth!" Aemma looked as if she could breath fire. A true mother dragon. "I have always thought of you as a strong man, one who would stand up for his family but now I see the truth. You are a coward, Daemon."

"Corward?!" Daemon stalked towards her, but before he could, some invisible wall stopped him. "It is me, who has defended this family for years! Done whatever my King demanded! Left when he ordered me to, even when all were aware that he could not command me for I had a dragon and he did not!" 

Daemon's breath came in heave's before he settled, "There is no use in arguing with a dream."

"A dream? You could only a wish that I was a mere figment of your mind, rather than your brothers wife, the one you rarely spoke to. The mother of the girl you have continued to abandon and burn with your flames," Aemma retorted, stalking closer - with no invisible wall to stop her -  glaring up at him. "The Gods have sent me to you because of Aegon's Prophecy. So, you can choose to stand here and complain about how the world has turned its back on you and how horrible of a brother Viserys is, or you can shut up and listen."

Daemon glowered, but Aemma would no longer be cowered by raging dragons or towers, for she was a mother dragon and the world would burn for hurting Rhaenyra. Luckily, he was a smart man. 

"Good. Do you know of Aegon's Prophecy?" 

"No."

"It is the reason he chose to come to Westeros, the reason Torrhen Stark knelt. The Song of Ice And Fire, a warrior, a savior, who would burn away the ice the Others brought with them when they crossed the wall. But in nearly every future, they fail. Because the dragons die, Daemon. Without them, Targaryens are only pretty men."

"Die? How could the dragons die?!"

"Have you become blind, Daemon? Jahaerys had 13 children and only three remain, and none of those three have dragons. But they did not die naturally, no, it was the combined efforts of the Hightowers and the Citadel. They hate us, Daemon. We are everything they cannot stand for, and yet we rule them. Go home, Daemon. Because from now on, you are the sword, Viserys the shield.

"You still haven't—"

"Understanding will come in time, Daemon, but Rhaenyra needs someone who supports her while Viserys works to change things. Take care of her."

Aemma began to fade, the edges of the garden folding in as he began to wake. 

"And Daemon? If you ever hurt my daughter again, I will make your life a living nightmare."

Sitting up, he glanced around, half expecting Aemma to still be sat beside him but it was quiet and dark, rain still pattering against the windows of his room. 

He could not believe what he had just witnessed. Never before had he believed in Dragon Dreams, but the letter and Aemma, so close together, was not a coincidence. 

Standing, he was quick to change, already tugging on the bond to wake and coaxe Caraxes from his cave so they could take flight. 

Whistling echoed through the Dragonmont, earning irritated snarls from Vermithor and Silverwing but Caraxes ignored them, focused on his rider. Through the bond Daemon could feel his slight irritation at being asked to fly through rain, but not enough that he would refuse to go.

"Easy, Caraxes. I apologize, my friend, but this is urgent. At least you will see Syrax once more." That seemed to settle his irritation, making him more eager to take to the skies. Crooning and chirping, he lowered his wing, eager to take to the skies and return to his golden lady. 

Rhaenyra P.O.V. 

All morning had felt like an odd fever-induced dream, if Rhaenyra was being honest to herself. Early the morn before last, far before she'd ever remembered seeing her father awake, he had come to her rooms and apologized. To her. For things she hadn't even known about including . . . including Alicent's betrayel which hurt, so much, for she had given her everything, all of her secrets and her time but she had turned around and betrayed her. 

Viserys had also spoken of summoning a new revenue of ladies - which terrified her, but she wasn't stupid - and only an hour ago, Ser Harwin Strong had come to bring her an entire pile of parchments, each with ladies eligible to join her. On the top was a letter from her father, written in High Valyrian. 

Rhaenyra, my dear girl, do not be afraid to choose who you please. We are dragons, and we are not ruled by sheep. Remind those who you choose of the rewards of being your lady - including being provided for, having better opportunities, and having 500 Gold Dragons added to their dowry. 

Do not pick only allies, my girl, choose enemies and allow them to think they have you caught in their snare. Keep their sisters, daughters, and aunts, close. As hostages. But do not overwhelm yourself. 

If you wish to only have allies within your Household, than so be it. The choice is yours and yours alone, Rhaenyra.

And now, here she was, sorting through the eligible ladies of the Realm. How fun. 

She was distracted by a distinct whistle-shriek, a warning before the serpentine form of Caraxes dove past her window. 

Daemon was back. 

It seemed her father really had called him back, which surprised her since Daemon's stunt with the egg had really hurt him. Hurt her. Scowling at the reminder, she turned back to the papers, reaching for the Stormlands pile - Rhaenyra was glad for the organization of Lord Strong, fore without it, she'd fear her room would look like a great storm had come through. 

Cassandra Baratheon, Jena Dondarrion, Roa Tarth, and Talya Lonmouth seemed to be the best options, with Cassandra and Roa both being Heirs to their respective houses. Being a part of the Royal Household would mean the absolute best education possible, which they would need. And as her father had said, she needed allies. If she helped these women become Ladies of their Houses, they would be loyal. Never would they call for a man over a woman. 

Jena Dondarrion and Talya Lonmouth were both from houses that had proven their loyalty - Joffrey Lonmouth was trusted Shied of her cousin, Laenor, and one of Queen Alyssane's ladies had been a Dondarrion. 

Now she needed a hostage. 

Lady Ellyn Carron, younger sister of Elenda Carron and Lord Bryce Carron, all strict followers of the Faith. Alicent had . . . Alicent had once admitted that a knight of House Caron would be a good husband for her because of their piouty, only truly outstripped by Houses closest to the Citadel. 

From what she remembered in her lessons, the previous Lord had voted for her father over Rhaenys.  

A strange sliding sound interrupted her thoughts and she froze, grip tightening on the quill in her hand. In one quick movement she threw herself up, hurrying to cross the room before an arm wrapped around her waist. A hand kept her call for help quiet, but when the attacker finally spoke she calmed. 

"Did I scare you, little dragon?" 

Rhaenyra felt relief that the man behind her was not an attacker, but rather her uncle. And then the fury rose and she yanked herself away from him. 

"I am not your little dragon!" Glaring at him, she held herself tall beneath his dark violet gaze. "What are you doing here?"

"Your father called me home. Said we needed to speak. Said he wanted to apologize." His eyes searched her face, but she had spent six moons, alone, hiding her rage and sadness from the courts.

"Do not play the mummer, Uncle. Why are you in my rooms?" 

Silence. 

"I . . . I came to you first to apologize, for what I did. For what I've done. For years, I've . . . I've wanted to hurt Viserys like he hurt me, but I only ever hurt you. I should not have taken Baelon's egg. I am sorry, niece, for my actions. And I only wish you can forgive a foolish old dragon for his blindness." Rhaenyra watched as Daemon unsheathed Dark Sister, her blade gleaming in the light of her room, before kneeling at her feet. "I, Daemon of House Targaryen, do swear to uphold the rights of Crown Princess Rhaenyra of House Targaryen, through sword, word, and dragon. Until Balerion descends upon me, my sword, my dragon, my life, belongs to the Crown Princess. It shall be done."

Dragging the blade of Dark Sister across his palm, he swore his oath in blood. Pausing for only a second, Rhaenyra reached out, pressing their hands together so his blood stained her pale skin. 

"I, Crown Princess Rhaenyra of House Targaryen, swear to house, care for, and defend Daemon of House Targaryen, as a loyal vassel. It shall be done."

Oaths like theirs did not require her to draw blood, but the oath was sealed, not just by them but by Arrax, the God of Law and Balerion, the God of Death. 

Tears gathered in Rhaenyra's eyes, and Daemon was quick to rise, embracing her tightly. "I'm sorry, Rhaenyra."

"I was so alone, Uncle. Your were gone, Father could not bare to look at me, and Alicent . . . Alicent has been comforting my Father. In the night."

"What." 

Rhaenyra pulled back a little to look up at her Uncle. "Father, he- he told me. She has been visiting him in the nights, to comfort him. But he swears that an announcement will be made decrying her, naming her as a mistress with no power in court. Kepus, the look on his face was . . . His eyes were so angry, I felt as if I were looking into the eyes of the Black Dread."

"Balerion chose him for a reason," Daemon stated, mind occupied. "The Highcunt reaches too far, and even naming her as mistress could be twisted. Sons grow to men, and men can usurp your place on the Throne, Rhaenyra."

"Kepa said that all of her children would be raised by Houses loyal to us. To me. So that I would have knights and scholars when the time comes for me to rule as Queen."

Daemon only scoffed. 

"Speak to him, Kepus, see for yourself the change he wants. Go."

Daemon stared her down, searching for doubt but found only resiliance. "Alright, little dragon, I will go. Since you so obviously don't want me here."

He turned away to hide a smirk as Rhaenyra tried to muffle a giggle, "Do not start playing a jester, Kepus, it does not suit you."

Rhaenyra slumped into her chaise, watching as the secret door hidden behind the painting of Visenya and Vhagar that took up nearly half her wall, permanently attached, slid closed behind the man. Daemons visit - kneeling at her feet and apologizing - had been a surprise, especially since she had always believed that the secret tunnels that Maegor had created were false tales shared amongst the paranoid. But now . . . 

Perhaps once Daemon had finished speaking to her father she could convince him to show her the tunnels in their entirety. A soft blush covered her cheeks as her mind pulled the image of Daemon kneeling back to the forefront of her mind, remembering how her father had promised it would be her choice in who she married. 

Maybe . . . Maybe she could pick Daemon, like he had offered, but she didn't want to trap him in another loveless marriage. 

Viserys P.O.V. 

Viserys had been pacing in his quarters since he had heard the eerie whistle-shriek of Caraxes as his serpentine form passed the window. He honestly doubted that Daemon would come to him first, or even at all, but he would wait. If Daemon didn't come by morning, since the whole castle would be gathering in the afternoon for him to announce the changes coming, he might have to push back the meeting so his brother wouldn't be surprised. For several candle marks he paced, glancing towards the paper sat on his desk that contained his plans for the future. 

In the two days that had passed since he'd sent out letters, Viserys' list had grown, his dreams showing him the things that would happen in more detail. He had seen all of Otto's plans, everything he had done to raise himself up so high as to consider himself the most powerful man in the realm. By tomorrow night Otto would regret everything, no longer would he be the 'second most powerful man in the realm'. 

A strange sliding sound from behind him - where no door was, just wall - had him pausing his pacing. Slowly he turned, fully ready to shout for Ser Harrold but the cry died when he saw his brother stepping out from a hidden tunnel. 

"Daemon-" Viserys cut himself off as he realized where exactly Daemon was coming from. "Are those Maegor's tunnels? I thought them a myth."

"Most do. Better for me." 

Viserys forcibly tore his attention away from the tunnels - no matter how much he wanted to question his brother about them and explore, he had more important things to do. 

"Daemon, I - I am so sorry, Valonqar. Since I have become King I have done nothing but fail you, hurt you. And I am the one to blame for it all." Daemon's jaw dropped open a little, genuinley surprised. He hadn't expected the apology to come, especially not first. And he had expected excuses. "I do not know if I can truly make things right, but I would like to try. If you would let me."

"And how would you 'make things right'? Will you disinherit Rhaenyra? Or perhaps chain me to yet another sheep? Well?!"

"Rhaenyra is my heir. Even if you were to wish her disinherited, I would not do so. Nor will I chain you to anyone else. The option of remarriage lies with you Daemon. But . . . I was going to offer you the position of the Commander of the Gold Cloaks back after you had returned–"

"I have returned."

"Not from Dragonstone. From war. Lord Corlys was right about the Stepstones, they are vital to trade and making sure the Dornish and the Triarchy do not think we are weak. I was of the mind to name you Commander of my Armies, to command the situation in the Stepstones. And when you win, I planned to offer them to you, so that if you have any children they will have something to inherit."

Viserys rushed to try and explain his plan for the future, but even he could tell that he wasn't making much sense. "Daemon . . . Sit, please. Let me explain from the beginning, so you understand what plans I have, for you and Rhaenyra, for our family." 

Daemon scoffed, but sat, keeping a hand on Dark Sisters hilt as he eyed his older brother warily. "Well, go on then. Explain."

"You were right, all those years ago, when you said that Otto Hightower was a snake trying to gather power for himself. Knowing now what he has done - pushing Alicent in my bed in the hopes I sire a son to replace Rhaenyra, forcing a divide between you and I, and even making it so Rhaenyra was isolated all these years - I have decided to act. Tomorrow will be the beginning of change, Daemon. Not only will I announce that the Crown is going to war, but I will tell them all that I will never remarry."

"Oh? So you have ruined Rhaenyra's maid, but you won't marry her, how wonderful. We should celebrate!"

Viserys bit down the anger, taking a breath. "Instead, I will take her as a Mistriss and strip away all her titles and any power she thought she could have. In dragonhide I will write that Rhaenyra is my heir, my only child. All of the Great Houses, the Citadel, Dragonstone, and the Red Keep will have a copy of the agreement, to make sure none try to twist it in their favor."

"Rhaenys will be offered a position on my Council - the Master of Ships until Lord Corlys returns, and then the Master of Laws, as Lyonel will be named my Hand. New seats on the Council will be formed, with Rhaenyra heading the change. Already a seat and orb are being comissioned for she will sit at my side as my Heir."

"And where am I in all of this? Cast to the side!"

"No, Daemon. I have many positions I could offer you, but I do not know which you would take. Your position as Commander of the Gold Cloaks is yours if you wish, and the title of Master of War could be yours as well. In all honesty, it has even occured to me that I could name you as the Protector of the Realm." Daemon only stared. "I still remember the day you told me that I was the only King not able to wield a sword, and yet I still refused to train, to learn the ways of the sword. I need your strength, Valonqar, however you choose to give it. I am a weak King, and I would have willed another weak King in my place instead of the great Queen, Rhaenyra would have been. I ask, no I beg of you to allow me the chance to right my wrongs. But I will understand if you choose to leave. For I have done so much to wrong you."

Daemon stood, and returned to Maegors tunnels, leaving his brother to weep, aloone in his rooms. 

And wept Viserys did, drinking to numb the pain and turning Alicent away when she came to visit, eventually falling into bed. 

Opening his eyes, Visrrys found himself sat in the Queens rooms with Aemma resting on her chaise, the gold glinting in the sun. He stared at her, dressed in a simple nightgown of pale blue, her beautiful eyes calm, and lacking the anger that he had honestly begun to grow used to. 

"You are changing."

"I can not bare to see Rhaenyra burn again, not because of my failures."

"Good. But not what I meant. You are changing, Viserys. And I am glad to see it. The future is changing because it is you changing. You are the pinnacle, the turning point, Viserys. The war began because of you, and now it will end because of you. But do not rest on your laurels, the path is ever shifting, ever changing. If you begin to go stagnant, then the path will return to war."

Viserys nodded, shoulders slumping under the weight. How could he, the cause, stop the war? 

"Sit with me, Viserys. Rest. You have done enough. For now," Aemma murmured, gently gesturing for him to come. Once upon a time, this had been a common sight in the Queens Rooms, where Viserys would go to rest his head after difficult talks with his Small Council and speak to the one who held his heart. 

It was enough to make him weep. Settled on her lap, he closed his eyes and rested, listening to her hum as she embroidered. It was peaceful. And it made him regret what he had done. 

Chapter Text

Otto P.O.V. 

Otto was a little surprised to see the letter that denoted the Small Council's change to the entire Court meeting at noon, but he couldn't help the feeling of pride. Alicent had done her job well, and the King likely wished to announce his impending marriage to the courts to make sure it couldn't be misinterpretated. And with Daemon having returned that was paramount. 

If that wretched man somehow managed to spread rumors, it could make it difficult for everyone to see Alicent as Queen. And she needed to be seen as a symbol, so that her son would be seen as a savior, the continuation of the Hightower Legacy and the ruin of the heathenistic Targaryen Rule.

And since the boy will be his grandson, he will be able to properly mold him to be the perfect King, able to be ruled through solely by him, Otto Hightower. The man who saved the Seven Kingdoms by ridding them of their Targaryen overlords and the vile beasts they rode. 

He sent for his daughter, to make sure she picked the perfect dress for the Council to see. She would know what to pick, how to show the people of the Court that they were looking at the future Queen without disrespecting anyone. And just as he thought, Alicent near floated into the room, already dressed to attend court in a lovely dove gray dress with a lower cut that showed pale collarbone as her auburn locks fell around her face. 

A simple sting of pears decorated her neck, with only her mothers ring on her forefinger. She looked modest but graceful, the fitting image of a Queen blessed by the Seven. 

"I have the most wonderful news, Father," Alicent began, smiling sweetly as she allowed her delicate hands to rest on her stomach. "The Maester confirmed it, just this morning. I am pregnant, with the Kings son."

"That is excellent news, Alicent. The King will be most pleased to hear that. He will most certainly see the necessity of a quick wedding now. Now come, the King has decided to hold court in the Throne Room and we must present ourselves, show ourselves to be a united front." 

Alicent nodded - always so agreeable and understanding, she knew her place in the world unlike the Kings brat of a daughter. Offering his arm, Otto escorted his daughter to the Throne Room where he saw Lord Velaryon, Princess Rhaenys, Lady Laena, Laenor, and Prince Daemon arranged around the bottom of the stairs that led to the Iron Throne with Princess Rhaenyra stood beside the Throne where her father sat. 

Irritation had the muscles of his cheek twitching but he remained calm, releasing Alicent so she could make it to her spot towards the front - as befitting a Lady of the Princess. He stood with the rest of the Small Council, holding himself tall when Daemon glanced his way that infuriating smirk tugging at the mans lips as his dark purple eyes swept over the crowd. 

It did not take long for the room to fill, people rushing to see what the King wanted - honestly expecting a tourney or ball of some sort, or even announce his marriage to Laena Velaryon. The only real choice in the eyes of most Lords and Ladies. 

Viserys P.O.V. 

Viserys sat on his throne, dressed in his best doublet as he prepared himself to change the way his court was run. No longer would he be an idle fireless wyrm, but a fierce dragon protecting his nest, his family. 

The talk with Corlys and Rhaenys had gone well, having managed to placate Corlys with talks of unity, - though he knew Laenor would not be marrying his daughter - the decision to fund the war of the Stepstones, giving Laena a place in Rhaenyra's household, and making an advisor of Rhaenys, as she deserved. 

He honestly had not expected a letter from his little brother, genuinly believing he would have left the keep to spend the night in a brothel but he had recieved a letter that morning. With terms. And he planned to abide by them all. 

Well, at the time he hadn't, having hurried to speak to Rhaenyra. But knowing she was alright with it, and having Daemons agreement, he would make it a reality. 

A simple hand signal had Ser Harrold banging his arm braces together to bring everyones attention to the King. 

"Today marks the first of many changes I have decided to make," Viserys began, watching the Lords and Ladies shift. "As each of my predeccessors have made the Seven Kingdoms stronger and left changes in their wake, it is my time to do the same."

He stood. 

"When King Aegon the Conquerer created the Small Council, he created the 7 positions in order to keep the Realm at peace but as our realm grows so must my Small Council. In all, I and my heir, Crown Princess Rhaenyra have discussed what positions would benefit the Kingdoms and who would fit into those positions, and all have agreed."

 Master of Crops - Stephen Tyrell, the second son of Lord Benjamin Tyrell

Master of Trade - Lord Marq Grafton, Lord of Gulltown

Master of Foreign Affairs - Lord Bartimos Celtigar, Lord of Claw Isle

Master of the Treasury - Ser Edmere Tully, the second son of Lord Grover Tully

Priestess of the Old Gods - Priestess Wylla

Master of Ceremonies - Lady Gwenevere Stonehouse, Heir to Lord Greydon Stonehouse

Master of Agriculture - Rydden Karstark, the second son of Lord Arthor Karstark

Master of Works - Lord Jorah Mallister, Lord of Seaguard

Master of Peace - Lady Jaina Reed, Lady of Greywater Watch

The Heir's Seat - Crown Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen, Heir to the Iron Throne

Representatives of the Seven Kingdoms - Bennard Stark, Ser Harold Arryn, Ser Ernie Tully, Ser Tyland Lannister, Joron Blacktyde, Lady Farah Caswell, Lady Johanna Swann, and Maralla Martell.

The crowd whispered amongst each other in genuine surprise, with many feeling affronted by the inclusion of a Priestess, a woman, an Iron Islander, and a Dornish woman.

"A reminder that the Seven Kingdoms has no set religion and it is by the Kings grace that the Grand Maester is allowed a seat on the Small Council. As the second largest religion in Westeros, the Priestess will be allowed a seat. The Kingdom of Dorne is one of the Seven Kingdoms and will henceforth be treated as such, including having their voices heard. That will be the jobs of the Representatives of the Seven Kingdoms, to make sure each region's voice is being heard. Equally. Not one region over another."

"In other news, I have spent many hours speaking with my advisors and have made my decision regarding the Stepstones. The attacks against the ships of Lord Corlys Velaryon by the Triarchy are to be taken as an act of War. In two months a fleet will be dispatched to the Stepstones to begin waging war, under the command of Prince Daemon Targaryen and Lord Corlys Velaryon. While he is gone, the Princess Rhaenys will act as the Interim Master of Ships until her husband returns whereforth she will take the position of my advisor."

A lie, but no one needed to know just yet. 

"As of yestereve, the marriage of Daemon Targaryen and Rhea Royce was dissolved under grounds of nonconsumation, confirmed by both. And as of this morning, my daughters betrothed has been chosen. It took time for me too decide, to find a man that would understand his role. And I looked to the Great Houses for a grnd match, but all would worry for their House first over the needs of people, so I began to look closer to home.

"The man I have chosen is strong enough to protect my daughter, smart enough to aid her when she is crowned, and ruthless enough to slaughter those who think they can oppose the dragon," Viserys declared, startling the crowd. Lords and Ladies looked between each other in shock, having never believed that he would say such a thing. "My brother, Daemon Targaryen. After six moons they will be wedded, in all traditions of the Realms so that their bond may never be broken. A Wedding befit of the future Queen and her Prince Consort shall be held!"

Gasps rang out, some of the Lords cheering for Daemon as Ladies swooned in amazement for Rhaenyra. Others scowled, unapproving but Viserys steeled himself. 

"In the same vein, I have decided to remain unwed. The Line of Succession is seccured through my daughter and brother, my cousin and her family."

Otto's face was beginning to purple, just as Alicents began to pale, her figure swaying uneasily, horrified. But he continued. This wasn't just one blow, it would be multiple against the murderers who killed his daughter. 

"But I will take a Mistress, to keep me warm in the nights for I am only a man, and as the Lady Alicent Hightower has been visiting my chambers in the night, I have decided she will fit the role. Her role will be as the Royal Mistress, but Lady Alicent will hold no more power than she does now, any children born of this will be bastards and sent to be raised amongst loyal vassals as knights. None will be allowed to inherit lands or titles, nor will they be given the name Targaryen. Should any even make the attempt to claim dragons, they will be detained and killed. Let it be known that if any try to take the Iron Throne, they shall be labeled a usurper."

Alicent let out a faint whimper as Ladies that had once murmured of piousness, sent her disgusted looks, men already leering at her. Otto trembled with rage, but Daemons hand fell to Dark Sister in warning. 

Rhaenyra P.O.V. 

Rhaenyra kept a regal smile on her face as her Father continued working through the announcements, but delight and pride sat in her chest. In six moons Daemon would be her husband. Without turning her head, Rhaenyra could only partially see Daemons face - and he looked incredibly pleased. 

When her Father made the announcement of taking Alicent as his Royal Mistress, she stared the girl down. Watching her go pale, trembling in that dress brought a viscous satisfaction to her. To slip into her Fathers bed when the blood of her mother had not yet dried, then claim she was friends with Rhaenyra, disgusted her. She was the Crown Princess. One day she would be the Ruling Queen of Westeros, and Whore Hightower would not get in her way. 

She would sit the Iron Throne.