Notes:
Next chapter!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
It was the middle of the night when I was shaken awake, Rhaenyra still pressed against my side and sound asleep. I looked up, and saw Father standing in his riding clothes.
"Father?" I said, rubbing my eyes. "What is this?" Father crouched down next to the bed.
"My brother has seen fit to relieve me of my position," he said. "I am to leave court at once. I will go to Dragonstone. You will remain here. Find someone to act on my behalf in my absence." I was… being left behind? That didn't seem right at all, especially not after everything that had happened.
"But… can't I go with you?" I asked. Father shook his head.
"Come find me on Dragonstone when you can," he said. "That time isn't now." Okay, this didn't seem right at all.
"Father… what happened?" I had to know this, I just had to. Father hesitated, then sat in the stool. And he's hesitating. This is so out of character, I must be dreaming.
"Viserys wanted answers after I killed the Essosi. We fought… he's been in his cups since Aemma died, and he was taken advantage of to sign orders, but refused to accept that he had any fault in anything. But had he trusted the Maesters, trusted what you'd done, then his son would still be alive," Father's eyes went cold. "He saw fit to exile me from court, to hide from that hard truth." A flash of anger went through me. I pushed myself up, but I was stopped. "Stay here and wait. You'll know when to depart." I swiftly wrapped my arms around him, holding back any more emotions. He turned and left soon after. When I awoke again, my eyes burned with pain as my pillow was soaked beneath me.
I tried to step down, and to my relief, I could at least stand. With a breath, I took a step forward, then another, and another. I made it to the door before I tripped and fell. After a few moments, I managed to pull myself up and open the door. Harwin stood there, quickly balancing me against his arm. I looked up at him and nodded. Oh Harwin, what would I do without you at this point?
He kept me steady, holding my shoulder as we walked. As we passed through the halls, the whispers reached me… exactly what Father had told me. A fight, the City Watch being without a commander, "Lord Fleabottom" having left the city… and yet no more details reached me. Father's entire household had left with him, except for Father Jon, who stayed behind to tend to the Weirwood Sapling. I was instead educated with Grand Maester Runciter and whoever could be brought in for Martial matters. My education in religion and anything else swerving as all but one of my previous tutors were now gone, much to my dismay.
It was replaced with some rather intensive education in the Seven… apparently, the Septon, Wull, didn't much like the idea of a member of the royal family not being pious followers of the Seven. I showed up to the Sept every time it was needed, but even that wasn't enough. At least he wasn't cruel, he taught with understanding and answering questions. He just didn't understand I'd already been claimed, religion-wise. Hell, I accepted at this point that the Seven were probably just as real as the Old Gods and R'hllor, I just didn't pay them true worship.
Days passed, and few things changed, I drifted through the Red Keep, feeling empty and nearly-alone, except for Rhaenyra's company. Until, one day, we were both summoned to the Small Council Chamber. I held her hand tightly as we were escorted across the Keep. The door was swiftly opened for us… and Viserys was once again sat at the head of the table, receiving a report from Ser Otto.
"As well, the Kingdom of the Three Daughters has once again raised the dues for passing through the Stepstones for ships of the Seven Kingdoms," he said looking up from his scroll. "Their alliance with Norvos and Lorath seems to be paying off; neither Pentos nor Braavos has challenged them on this. We've received formal complaints from every Warden and Lord Paramount, as well as the merchant guilds of every city in Westeros... and many other lords."
"Send an ambassador to them to negotiate for lower costs… and send a raven to Pyke, inform them that the ships of the Three Daughters are all theirs until we get those lower costs," Viserys finally said, taking a long drink from his goblet. "I'll not suffer them dictating terms to us. They are the daughters of Valyria, not the mothers."
"Of course, Your Grace," Otto said, with a bow. "Might I recommend issuing letters of marque to other captains as well? The fleet of House Redwyne would be happy to join, and my brother will certainly assist."
"You and Lyman stay behind after the meeting, we shall discuss the rate for those letters with the Grand Maester," Viserys ordered. "However, another matter has come up," he said, looking over at the two of us. Rhaenyra's hand tightened in anger around mine, and mine around hers, but we tried to not show our anger.
"The matter of succession," Lord Strong confirmed. "With the passing of the Prince of Dragonstone, we are without a Crown Prince." I flinched as he said that, and I gripped Rhaenyra's hand a bit tighter for a moment. "Two disputed successions in a row could be disastrous for the Seven Kingdoms. House Velaryon has never truly renounced their claim, either, and can very much still claim support from the lords that supported them, and they have Vhagar." He paused for a moment, giving me an opportunity to interject.
"We have Vermithor and Silverwing," I said. "The only dragons that truly matter now are Meleys and Caraxes, being the only ones not ridden by children." Lord Strong gave me a nod of agreement.
"If we accept common wisdom, then Prince Daemon is now heir to the Iron Throne, with Prince Lucerys after him," Lord Beesbury said, sitting taller.
"That is what the Great Council seemed to infer," Runciter agreed. "Following that, Prince Daemon and Prince Lucerys are the only viable heirs to the throne. House Targaryen has the fewest members it has had since the Old King took the throne. I received word earlier today that Prince Vaegon has breathed his last at the Citadel, and we are left with the three in this room, Prince Daemon, and Princess Rhaenys."
"Prince Lucerys does have the additional problem of his faith," Septon Wull spoke. "I do not believe the strongly faithful would accept him as their King." Lord Strong rose to speak, but Septon Wull interrupted. "Yes, Lord Strong, I am aware that Jaehaerys' laws officially accord the same rights to the followers of the Old Gods and the New, but what is law and what is believed are two fields of their own." Viserys, finally, stood up.
"Daemon as King would be a time of great strife for the Kingdom," he said. "And Lucerys as heir would give him almost as much power as if he were heir himself, if not more. He would wield the power behind the throne, and inflame ever further the Runestone succession crisis. His faith has no bearing here," he added, with a look of sympathy to me. "What did the Great Council say? Did it bind any form of succession?" he asked Lord Strong. Lyonel thought for a moment, before shaking his head.
"No. The formal ruling was very narrow, and only pertained to your own appointment as Prince of Dragonstone. Many would interpret that to mean that only those in the male-line can take the Iron Throne, however," he said. Otto seemed to have a sudden epiphany, however, and turned to his squire.
"Boy, tell a clerk to fetch the full ruling of the Great Council, it'll be in the archives— Row 54, 3rd shelf from the top, in a black and red casing. Bring it here for Lord Strong," he ordered. The boy nodded in assent and rushed out of the chamber. As soon as the doors opened, he added, "and have a servant bring chairs for the children!"
The chairs came much faster than the runner. Rhaenyra and I sat, not knowing exactly what was planned. Well, I had a feeling, but I kept quiet to avoid screwing with anything too much. The clerk came back with the case several minutes later, and placed it before Lord Strong. He swiftly withdrew it and read it for several long minutes.
"The formal ruling is that you, as the chosen heir of King Jaehaerys, are to be Prince of Dragonstone," he said, looking up. "More details include considerations of proximity of blood and wanting to avoid another reign with a regency for a child King, but the ultimate ruling is still the same, that you are heir because Jaehaerys made you such." Viserys nodded, and Otto got a grin on his face.
"It was such under the laws of Old Valyria; the Lords Freeholder could appoint their successor, and had absolute control over it until their death," Viserys added. "My Lord Hand, do you have something to say?" Otto stood again, and turned to address the room.
"Your Grace, and my lords, there seems to be but one acceptable candidate; one not tainted by past or faith, and not involved in the Great Council and the divisions born there," he said, before pointing at us. "Princess Rhaenyra, our King's only child. In the absence of a son to succeed you, Your Grace, I would recommend she become the Princess of Dragonstone." After several moments, Viserys nodded.
"Aye. Under the precedent of the Great Council of 101 AC that allows a King to choose his heir, and under the customs of Old Valyria, Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen of Dragonstone will be Princess of Dragonstone and heir to House Targaryen. Lyonel, begin drafting a notice to the lords of the realm, be sure to include all of the…" Viserys stopped to think of a word.
"Legalese?" I offered, holding Rhaenyra up, who I thought might faint from shock. Viserys looked at me and, after a blank look, continued.
"Legalese? Peculiar, but it shall suffice. All of the niceties and… 'legalese' needed to explain our decision," he said. "And instruct all lords to swear oaths to honor that decision. I don't want anyone disobeying this. Any lords that can make the journey will do so in person, or send a representative to do so." I looked at Rhaenyra, and she smiled brightly. "They will swear on behalf of their entire House," Viserys added after a few moments.
"I… I'll be a Queen," Rhaenyra whispered. "I'll sit upon the Iron Throne after Father." I gave her a tight hug, before pulling back and smiling.
"I'll be there for you, every step of it," I said. She nodded and held my hands with a smile. We were dismissed from the council chambers soon after, and a grand feast was called, after which all representatives of the Houses of Westeros would swear oaths recognizing Rhaenyra as Princess of Dragonstone. However, I saw less of her, as she was appointed as Viserys' new cupbearer, to always accompany him wherever he went.
Representative. No, that wouldn't. The night that thought came to my head, I sat down and composed a simple letter, with help from Rhaenyra, filled with childish stuff and information, with a simple request at the end asking if I could swear the oath to Rhaenyra. I got my response a fortnight later.
Luke
While I truly wish I could make the journey to King's Landing, matters here have kept me busy. I have none I can trust to manage this place to come there, so, as much as I wish to see you again, I must remain here. You may swear the oath to Princess Rhaenyra, on behalf of my house, this right I grant you. Don't remain too far away; as a dragonrider, take the time to visit me.
Your loving mother,
Lady Rhea Royce of Runestone
After I received the letter, I was formally summoned by Viserys. I arrived at his solar to find him in the company of Ser Otto. I sat on a cushion quietly as Harwin stood just outside the door.
"Lucerys," Viserys said with a smile. "You have a letter for me?" I nodded and handed it to him. He looked over it, with a smile.
"This does lead into what I called you here for," he said. "I have discussed this with Ser Otto… I believe what would be best is for your wardship to be dissolved." I did a double-take.
"Do… you not want me?" I asked, playing up the sadness. To be honest, Rhaenyra was what I'd miss, not much else. Viserys shook his head.
"That's not why, Lucerys, and you know it," he said. "You've been separated from your mother for too long, and you're still her heir. And after Daemon's flight," his voice shifted to one of derision when he mentioned Father, "everyone who taught you has departed. Only the man who keeps the little sapling in the Godswood remains. I know you are miserable in your lessons. And just because you won't live here anymore doesn't mean you can't still come back; you are a dragon rider, you can come back within a week."
I… damn it, he had a point. Most of the information I collected now couldn't even be acted upon anymore, with no one to act upon it. Otto had won this round, and I knew it. He nodded to Viserys, then looked back at me.
"No child should be left alone for so long. Your parents will surely allow you to visit whenever you wish to see the Princess," he said. I resisted the urge to flip him the bird for his smarmy tone. He totally just wanted me gone for his own reasons… but I had no will or reason to fight him on it. I simply lowered my head and nodded. I told Rhaenyra that night and we cried ourselves to sleep, getting all of the emotions out before the big ceremony. My things were packed soon after, prepared to be transported to Dragonstone, then, supposedly, onto Runestone.
The day came swiftly, the various nobles packed into King's Landing. Everything was rehearsed and coached carefully, the words carefully drilled into us all. Rhaenyra, dressed up almost as much as a bride on her wedding day, stepped forward, and knelt before Viserys as he sat upon the Iron Throne.
"Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen!" he called. "On this day, we have chosen you to succeed me as Head of House Targaryen," he continued, translating from the High Valyrian ceremonial announcement. "It is our wish that you be granted the Castle of Dragonstone with all its attendant lands and incomes, to make your seat there and rule henceforth as Princess of Dragonstone, and succeed us upon the Iron Throne of Westeros."
"Thank you, Your Grace," Rhaenyra called. "It is a burden and a calling I answer with pride." Viserys gave a nod.
"Then rise, Princess Rhaenyra of Dragonstone. We call upon all lords of Westeros to swear fealty to her and her descendents, now and forever more!" Rhaenyra stood and turned, as the lords of Westeros or their proxies came in, kneeling, and swearing her their recognition as Princess of Dragonstone, and swearing to honor her succession after Viserys. Right, like many of them ever intend to follow that.
Eventually, I was called forward. I stepped out of the crowd, dressed every part the Royal Prince… except for the cloak I wore, symbolizing my status as a proxy. I smiled and knelt before Rhaenyra.
"On this day," I said, still messing with pronunciation a bit, "I, Prince Lucerys of House Targaryen, duly appointed proxy of Lady Rhea Royce of Runestone, swear everlasting fealty to Princess Rhaenyra of Dragonstone, and pledge to devote all the resources of House Royce to ensuring her succession, if need be." I added the last portion myself, but Viserys and Rhaenyra both seemed to appreciate it, if the genuine smiles were any sign.
Once every lord or proxy had sworn their oaths, everyone moved out to the gardens, where the grand feast was prepared. The outdoors and amazing sea breeze kept it from being unbearable despite the heat. Behind all the smiles, though, people were talking. Everyone was still forming factions… and Otto had pivoted to cut off Father, by consolidating everything behind Rhaenyra.
If he knew what I do, he would have left the question of succession unanswered, I thought. What goes around comes around, asshole. Looking around, I saw Otto talking to a well-dressed man, both holding cups of wine and laughing. Wining and Dining— a tradition in politics going back millennia, apparently.
When people began to leave, clearly inebriated, I began to walk off. Harwin accompanied me, but Rhaenyra could only accompany me as far as the Pit. It was only a short carriage ride, but she refused to let go of me the whole way.
"How should I act?" she finally asked. "You're the smart one, you'd have been a great heir." I chuckled. I didn't want to be King. I'd made that clear, and it clearly seemed people didn't want me. That was fine by me, that pointy chair scared me.
"Wear masks, always," I said. "Pretend to wear one, and act differently. Don't change it too often. Make them only know what you want about you… do I make sense?" Rhaenyra carefully nodded. "You don't always have to wear a mask… choose people you trust above all else that you can take it off around, to not become your mask."
"I get it," she said. "I don't like lying to them, but… but it's the only way to make sure they don't beat me. Baelon was taken first, and I'll be next if I let them." Okay, gotta stop that train.
"They won't kill you, Rhae," I said. "But they will seek to make others dislike you, make others want someone else as heir. That is why you must wear masks, to ensure that there won't be something to hurt how you look." She blinked, then nodded.
"You're... alright, you're correct," Rhaenyra admitted. "I just… I get so angry, then scared, and—"
"And that's okay," I insisted. "You just have to remember, no one would dare hurt you directly. Especially not after what Father did." She huffed, but seemed to acknowledge I was right.
"What about Cole?" she finally asked. "Father knows I don't like him anymore, but he still resides in the court, and Father still likes him. He wants a white cloak. I don't ever want to see his face again." Wait, what? I had to admit, that wasn't something I expected to hear. Ser Criston Cole, Rhaenyra's darling at this time, earning her displeasure? Guess I was having a greater effect than I'd thought. Maybe… if I had more time, I could plan something.
"I… I'd need time. Give me that, and I can make sure you'll never have to see him again. Until then, pretend to like him again. Make him think nothing is wrong," I said, smiling. "That way, when we swing the hammer, he won't see it until it's about to hit him." Rhaenyra giggled at that analogy.
"I… I'll try," she said. I hugged her tight, as the carriage reached the top of Rhaenys' Hill. I stepped out of the carriage and looked about— the Dragon Keepers were clearly moving everything. Within a few minutes, Vermithor was carefully escorted out, and swiftly saddled. He'd already eaten, so was having no issues with the Dragon Keepers directing him. I gave one final goodbye to Rhaenyra, before climbing atop the Bronze Fury and chaining myself tightly to him. With a single snap of the whip, he rose into the air, circling the Dragonpit before I directed him out to Blackwater Bay. I took one last look back at King's Landing, before turning ahead, back to the water, and onward to my destination.
Notes:
Questions on the first scene are answered next chapter, before you leave a comment, lmao.