Chapter Text
"...King Viserys of House Targaryen, First of His Name, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, and Protector of the Realm! Long may he reign!" the High Septon called.
A few moments later, Aunt Aemma came forward and was crowned as Queen Consort. The assembled Lords and Ladies of the Realm knelt in reverence, each coming before Uncle Viserys to swear everlasting loyalty to himself and his heirs, and Viserys in turn giving his promises of protection and support. The Wardens were all confirmed in their positions, including Lady Jeyne Arryn, who gave me a huge smile as she walked to swear her oaths to Viserys. I smiled and gave a small wave back, making sure to not draw attention to myself.
From there, the entire procession rode to the Hightower, where Lord Hightower was hosting Uncle Viserys' coronation feast. Every lord came along, with the exception of Lord Rickon Stark, who was riding for the harbor to return to the North as fast as his ship could sail. It was the middle of autumn, and he'd taken all the time he could to swear his oaths, before he had to go home and oversee the harvest. He hadn't paid me much… or any… mind really, but my bias towards his House aside, he did seem to at least nod when I recited a prayer in the Old Tongue.
The coronation feast started with myself and several other boys my age singing songs of blessing and various chants in Old High Andalic, which felt awkward on my tongue, even more so than Latin did in my old world. Hours of feasting followed, with toasts and congratulations all round. I smiled and gave my own congratulations as I sat next to my father at the high table.
After dinner, I slipped away from the cleanup and down to the Hightower's Godswood. It, unfortunately, didn't have a weirwood tree, despite my hopes. Sighing, I knelt before the great oak tree that served as this Godswoods' heart tree. More recently, I'd begun making my prayers in the Old Tongue as much as I could, swapping what I couldn't for High Valyrian, in case anyone was eavesdropping. As I was finishing my complaint about having to sing in High Andalic, I heard footsteps behind me.
I spun, only to see a heavily cloaked man, near twice as tall as me, walking up to the tree. I stepped aside and allowed him to walk up to the tree. He knelt before the tree and muttered quiet prayers, too low for my ears. As he prayed, I got a better look at him, the salt and pepper beard and the blue-grey eyes letting me recognize him under the cloak he wore.
"Lord Blackwood?" I asked. I didn't get a reply for a few moments until the man stood and nodded down at me.
"Prince Lucerys," he replied. "A royal prince praying in the Old Tongue to the gods of the forest is an unexpected sight, but welcome one. I prayed for King Viserys to be good and just, to continue the Old King's peace for as many years."
Fat chance of that, I thought. "I pray that he does as well. I pray that Aunt Aemma gives him strong sons to follow him… and so I can have more companions in cousins." The lord seemed to let out a chuckle at that. I knew he had children of his own, and he'd understand the sentiment. He left the Godswood with some words of respect a couple of minutes later.
After that, I carefully made my way back to the rooms I was assigned at the High Tower. Just a small closed-off room connected to a solar with the rest of the Royal Family. Rhae passed by and gave me a hug before I went to sleep. I had a big plan before we sailed back to King's Landing.
The next morning, I was awakened just after dawn by Sister Beth. As I quietly dressed, I was confronted by an odd mixture of anxiety and anticipation. I knew if they listened to me, it could mean me opening the door to the foremost center of knowledge and learning in Westeros. Of course, they were the only real center of knowledge, which I hoped to eventually change, but that wasn't exactly something I could do yet.
Walking through the city, it was surprisingly advanced; oil lamps lined the streets, providing good light even in the dim early morning. The stones were even, and it didn't smell quite as bad as King's Landing; even the capital didn't smell all that bad.
I knew it only got as bad as it was in the books after the Dance and the refugees flooding the city.
Finding my destination was not particularly difficult, as the Citadel had the tallest building in Oldtown apart from the Hightower itself. On either side of the gateway, bronze sphinx statues rested, the patina having turned them green centuries ago. Sister Beth marvelled at the beauty, while behind me, the quiet and solemn figure of Ser Harrold Westerling said nothing.
Just inside, there was a sound of coins changing hands within booths as a small crowd has already gathered.
"The illiterate pay to have letters read and written for them," Ser Harrold dutifully said before I could ask. "It's a simple duty. The Citadel has done it for centuries."
After passing through the courtyard, we crossed a small stone bridge across the Honeywine to the main tower. At the end of the bridge, a marble statue of my great-grandfather, King Jaehaerys, stood tall and proud, Blackfyre in his hands, the tip resting at his feet. An inscription on the base read:
"He bound the land together, and made of seven kingdoms, one."
"Huh," I said, looking up at it. "When was this built?" I didn't remember reading about this in the books. Even during Sam's chapters at the Citadel.
"About fifteen years previous," Ser Harrold said, a smile crossing his face. "His Grace was always proud of it. Said if he left nothing else, this statue would remind people of what he did; turned Seven Kingdoms into One." I couldn't help but agree. Despite the numerous personal failings of the man, he'd accomplished that much. Now, it was up to his heirs to live up to his accomplishments. I could only pray I would, even if I didn't want to be anywhere near that damned uncomfortable chair.
Next to the statue, a bored-looking... acolyte? Novice?— a bored-looking dude stood looking around. I quickly moved over to ask a question.
"Excuse me, I was told to come here to speak with Archmaester Marlon, who do I talk to in order—" I began.
"So many words so early," the man said, yawning. "I can see the Kingsguard behind you, I know you're Prince Lucerys. Come now, the Archmaester is a busy man and you don't want to waste his time," he stopped for a moment, "Your Grace." He swiftly added. I was shocked at the bluntness, but nodded and waved for my two escorts to follow.
Inside the building, there were huge shelves of books across multiple floors that I could see from the balcony. I was like a kid in a candy store, though Ser Harrold made sure I kept moving even as I gawked at the huge library. We passed through numerous finely-decorated corridors until we arrived at a large door. Our guide knocked on the door with a sigh.
"Archmaester, Prince Lucerys and his party have arrived," he said. After a few moments, an aged voice called from the door.
"Very well, let them in," he called. "Go back to sleep, I'll summon another novice to escort them out!" The man nodded and pulled the wooden door open. I carefully stepped in with Sister Beth and Ser Harrold on either side of me. It reminded me of a professor's office inside. An older man was seated behind a sturdy looking wooden desk, which had chairs set out on the opposite side for the meeting.
"Prince Lucerys," the man said, resting his silver staff on the table next to him and bowing his head. "It is always a pleasure to see a member of the Royal Family take such a keen interest in learning. Your granduncle was my assistant when he was a novice, and I rarely met such an inquisitive soul. Even today he's one of my most esteemed colleagues." I nodded respectfully. Prince Vaegon was the Archmaester of Mathematics, at only forty-one. I had something I could send to him, but I'd hold off on that until I could get Runciter to double-check something.
"Right, though, my granduncle isn't why I wanted to talk," I said. He nodded.
"Of course, Your Grace. You said you had something for my consideration? I have to admit, this isn't exactly the step most go to— most will give something to my assistants to look over before bringing it to me," he said. I had to make a show of having Ser Harold explain what he meant to me; I couldn't break character as a seven-year-old quite yet.
Even if it just meant I couldn't use big words.
From the bag Ser Harrold carried, I pulled out a small collection of papers sewn together. I'd had to rewrite it twice, and then a third time with Runciter's assistance, to make it anywhere near presentable— even then, I'd had to ask another Maester for clarification since, despite Runciter's incredible skill at most things, he sucked at medicine.
"I had a dream one night about a year ago," I explained. "Both of my grandmothers died in childbirth, and this came to me in that dream, I think it could help prevent it." The Archmaester took the papers and began to look at them. "I had Maester Elwyn help me," I said, only half-truthfully, stating the name of Runciter's assistant in Medical matters, "he's why it looks good instead of like I was talking randomly about it."
"Well, it's certainly very detailed," he said. "Elwyn should be about ready for something of his own." He quietly began to read the paper more intently, silently flipping through the pages. I could tell he was paying attention. At least someone could see the point.
"Y-Your Grace," he said after a moment, looking up from the pages. "This tool… I care not from where it came, yet what it could do… it could save so many lives. Far too many babes are stuck in birth, and this… this could also help in other circumstances." I smiled and nodded. "It's somewhat crude, and it could take some time to be made well and to train our Maesters in their use, yet the potential of it is incredible."
"Yes… I hope many lives can be saved with it. I just ask that it be accredited to me, otherwise spread it far and wide," I said. "I do have other things to be given to the Citadel as well, that's just the big piece."
"Of course, anything else you have to give, I'll take," he said. I grabbed several scrolls out of the bag Ser Harrold held and placed them on his desk.
"Copies of thirteen of the missing scrolls of The Fires of the Freehold, I bought them off a Volantene Merchant; the other eight I don't have, unfortunately," I began. "Also this copy of a book on most of the Valyrian Forty Families from about a century before the fall of the Freehold," I said, setting the thicker book down. "And this is a collection of the myths and legends of the Old Gods of the Forest across the North." The Archmaester nodded in appreciation.
"I believe Archmaester Alliser will be very appreciative. He'll probably be hounding you for years to come to find the remaining copies of The Fires of the Freehold," the Archmaester laughed. "I might well ask some newer Maesters to go back with you to King's Landing to see if you have anything else for them. Now, unfortunately, I do have a meeting with the Conclave shortly; is there anything I can do for you before you go?" I thought for a second, before answering.
"Could I read the copy of Blood and Fire you guys have?" I asked. The Archmaester frowned and shook his head.
"No. Even I'm not allowed to take that out of it's home without approval, young one," he explained. "Our copy is rather old, and the Conclave just refuses to get around to having it copied down. I believe they think it's cursed. If we ever can get it copied down, I'll make sure to write to you to read it." I gave a smile of appreciation, as several more assistants came to file the less important books while the Archmaester packed my scroll on forceps into a basket on his desk. One assistant told us he'd escort us out, and I happily followed.
"I'm honestly surprised," I admitted. "I thought there'd be more resistance to it." Sister Beth smiled at me.
"He was honest in his words," she said. "He hopes it'll help people. And now he respects you greatly." We walked back to the Hightower as more people began to leave their homes and go about daily business. We'd be on our way back to King's Landing soon, but I'd accomplished the main thing I'd wanted to do here.
Now, hopefully, I can do this again, assuming my father doesn't piss off the Hightowers in this timeline… oh, who am I kidding, he totally will.