Chapter 66: Interlude: ViserysNotes:
As part of our dedication to this fic, Alice and I brewed up a batch of homemade hippocras, so that we could get into Viserys' head.
And I'm going to be honest, neither of us really liked the hippocras. Singapore has the wrong climate for spiced wine.
Still, we finished up the rest of the bottle, and the two of us wrote most of this while drunk on the stuff. But the resultant hangover was absolute murder, I swear. The spice somehow makes it worse.
My usual hangovers feel like an iron band is squeezing around my head. But with hippocras it felt like I was wearing an iron helmet, and it was slowly getting smaller.
Anywho, have a Happy Halloween and I hope you all enjoy the chapter.
—Lucky
———
Ditto to what my boyfriend said. First hangover of my life. Feels like my skull is a bell, and my brains the ball in the middle.
I'd always wanted to get a hangover, just to see what it was like, but Lucky and Pamela have always told me I was better off not knowing.
Yeah, I now see their points. Hangovers aren't fun.
Anywho, like my boyfriend said, Happy Halloween and enjoy the chapter!
—Alice
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
"Fire and Blood never suited my father. Wine and Friendship ought to have been the words sewn onto his banner."
-Queen Helaena Targaryen, the White Queen
111 AC, Fawnton,
Ah, was there no better thing than a vacation? There really was nothing better than to leave it all behind. Drop all the work and stress and just go unwind.
Alicent disagreed, unfortunately, but ah well, that was just proof that she needed it even more! Only the most stressed and wound-up people would say no to a holiday!
Rhaenyra saw that, which was why she sent both of them out of the capital on a holiday. They were both overworked and tired. Viserys from kingship and Alicent from childbearing. The vacation was the best thing that ever happened to them. It allowed them to get some much-needed time to unwind and relax.
The sound of pouring stirred Viserys out of his thoughts, and the King happily accepted the glass of brandy from Shaera, sipping it appreciatively and allowing the distillate to smoothly slide down his throat. Smacking his lips appreciatively, he turned to face the other young Dragonseed in the King's quarters.
"Ah, that was good." Viserys smiled. "Please send Rhaenyra my compliments, Shaeterys."
"Of course, uncle." The tall Dragonseed nodded. The boy was thirteen now, and was growing up nice and strong. Gods he really did start looking like Daemon now.
Viserys himself had taken after his father Baelon's stout build, but Daemon had inherited Jaehaerys' tall and slender frame. Shaeterys had his fathers' looks and build, though the colouring was slightly off. His hair was silver rather than electrum, and his eyes amethyst instead of indigo. His hair was cut short though, in that 'undercut' hairstyle that Nyra had popularised, unlike Daemon, whom had hair as long as a woman's.
Thoughts of his brother, and the way Viserys had decapitated him, made the King's mood sour. It was a necessary act, but that didn't mean that he liked doing it. He took another pull of the brandy, and the empty glass landed back on the table, where Shaera obediently refilled the cup.
Gods, and there was another ghost.
Aemma Arryn may have had the Arryn's blonde hair and blue eyes, but her features were definitely of good Valyrian stock.
The same Valyrian stock the gods must have drawn from when they shaped Shaera. Small and pretty, she had her mother Cerelle's blonde hair, and her eyes were that periwinkle shade that looked blue in some lights, purple in others.
Aemma had been especially charmed by Shaera back when she lived, and had named the young Dragonseed her cupbearer. The fondness was mutual, Viserys knew. Shaera had been inconsolable when Aemma passed.
The only major difference that Viserys saw was that Shaera loved to fly. Her hatchling Lady had finally grown large enough to ride, and the Dragonseed was eagerly taking advantage of that, happily flying her dragon across the Reach.
It made looking at her both joyful and painful.
Joy, for Viserys could almost imagine his first wife had returned, and could now dote on her like she was his daughter. Pain, for looking at Shaera reminded him that Aemma was dead. Dead because of the stupidest reasons.
Why did she not trust their daughter? The fruit of their love?
Rhaenyra was the finest heir in the world. Bold and decisive, skilled at arms and strong of body. Beautiful and alluring, with charming wit and charismatic personality. Smart and intelligent, wise beyond her years and precocious even as a babe. She was everything that a King could want for an heir.
Nobody was perfect, of course, but Rhaenyra's only flaw was that she didn't like Alicent, despite Viserys' best efforts and wishes. Which was not only a minor flaw, but an understandable one. After all, wasn't her dislike of her stepmother just proof of her love for her birth mother?
Despite all her worries that Aegon would one day usurp her throne, Viserys was sure that that was just an act. Obviously, Rhaenyra didn't fear Aegon! After all, the notion of a trueborn child usurping his own sibling was just ridiculous!
If anything, it'd be the bastards that'd do that, but Rhaenyra had surrounded herself with bastards. To the point where the King had gotten some complaints on why the Crown Prince had refused to take any highborn maids of good standing into her ladies-in-waiting, whom barring Laena, were all born on the wrong side of the blanket.
The reason turned out to be because Rhaenyra didn't trust anyone but blood to serve her in such an intimate and close manner, but that just puzzled Viserys even more. If she trusted her cousins solely based on blood, then why did she so fear her own siblings.
After all, if unsavoury Daemon could sire twenty-two illegitimate children whom were so loyal and honourable, then it stood to reason that any trueborn stock of Viserys would be at the very least just as loyal and honourable. That was how blood worked. Unruly dogs bred unruly whelps, and wild horses bred wild foals. Then obviously unruly men would beget unruly children.
And Rhaenyra was far more educated and well read on the topic, so if Viserys knew such a basic fact of life, then obviously Rhaenyra too knew that.
It had puzzled Viserys for a while, on why someone as educated and intelligent as his daughter would resort to such an argument. For one, despite professing all her fears of usurpation, Rhaenyra doted on her younger siblings. Helaena in particular, but there was no shortage of affection for Aegon and Aemond. She sang frequently to them. Rocked them to sleep. Changed their swaddling clothes and kissed them goodnight.
The disparity had confused Viserys for years on end, and it was only recently that Viserys finally understood the reason behind Rhaenyra's anomalous behaviour.
Rhaenyra was embarrassed.
His daughter knew better than anyone that the Lords and Ladies of the Seven Kingdoms would buck her rule, legal son or no, so she was actively cultivating a reputation as a warrior prince. And as such, she presented her enmity towards Alicent as fear of her children, a fear than the Realm would see as logical and understandable, when in truth, Rhaenyra didn't like Alicent because she was still in mourning over Aemma.
His young prince was still a sweet little girl at heart, and sorely missed her mother. Nyra couldn't bear to see Alicent sitting in Aemma's place, bearing and raising children and being crowned with Aemma's own crown.
So she pretended to fear her brothers, so that she could have a logical and socially acceptable excuse for her dislike of Alicent. After all, being outed as a mama's girl would be a great embarrassment, and really make her martial reputation take a severe blow.
The realisation had broke Viserys' heart. His daughter had presented a strong front at her mother's funeral, but clearly that was just a mummery. Without a mother to raise and coddle her or a brother to be heir in her place, Rhaenyra had been forced to grow up quickly, desperate to prove herself worthy of the Iron Throne.
And try as Alicent might, nothing could compare to the warmth of being held to the breast of one's own mother. Viserys would know. His own mother Alyssa had passed when he was young as well.
But then why did Aemma never take to her own child? Even now, years upon years later, Rhaenyra was still starved of her affection. So then why was Aemma always so cold to her daughter? It was understandable for Alicent, for Rhaenyra had been cold ever since the wedding, but why did Aemma never take to her own flesh and blood?
Viserys took another drink of brandy, but there was no answer to be found in the bottom of the bottle.
Mayhaps it was for the best that stepmother and stepdaughter be kept apart. Absence made the heart fonder, after all. Alicent and Rhaenyra had been close as sisters, once upon a time, and though their relationship had turned frosty, there were always marks left behind.
After all, every so often, Rhaenyra would say a turn of words, and Alicent would shoot her looks of fond irritation and annoyance. Holdovers from their shared past, presumably, but those were proof. Proof that the two ladies were not irreconcilable. Their friendship still existed. Deep down somewhere.
There was a knock on his door, and Viserys bid them entry, Shaeterys opening the door.
"Husband." Alicent said, sweeping in. She wrinkled her nose at the brandy in Viserys' hand. "Isn't it a bit too early to be drinking?"
"Nonsense!" Viserys laughed. "There is no such thing as being too early to drink."
The King rose to his feet, pulling up a chair for his Queen.
"Come, have a drink with me." He enthused, gesturing for Shaera to pour another goblet of the brandy. "It's King's Landing Brandy. A marvellous liquor. Nyra just had it flown over."
"Brandy?" Alicent asked, taking the proffered seat. A subtle gesture of her hand dismissed the two Dragonseeds, both bowing politely before they left the Royal Couple. "Isn't that expensive, even for us?"
"Not anymore." Viserys smiled. "My ingenious daughter has found a way to cut costs down significantly. Apparently she ordered the Alchemists' Guild to help construct a large distillery and brewery in the Capital, far larger than any previously built while being thrice as efficient. With that, she's effectively slashed the price of brandy in nearly five.
"And this is the very first bottle produced." Viserys said, raising the mostly-empty bottle in question. "My daughter really knows what I like."
The tale was still amusing to Viserys. Apparently, the Wisdoms had complained that they were alchemists, not brewers, but Rhaenyra had managed to bribe enough of the rank and file of the guild with ale that the Wisdoms realised that they faced mutiny unless they knuckled to her demands. It was an inglorious use of the Alchemists' Guild's talents, but apparently the creation of the King's Landing Distillery had done more to endear them to the public in five months than five centuries of existence.
Alicent took a tentative sip of her glass, and began coughing, much to Viserys' amusement. His wife always had been a lightweight. Both his wives, now that he thought about it.
"Gods, that's strong." Alicent finally rasped out.
"You just need to drink more and more frequently, wife." Viserys stated, knocking back the rest of his glass. "Now, what was it you wanted to see me for?"
"Regarding the Kingsguard…" Alicent began, but Viserys waved a hand, cutting her off.
"Not this again." The King grumbled. "Rhaenyra will hold a grand tourney in Lannisport at the end of the year to select our new Kingsguard. She's already made it known to the entire Realm, and I will not gainsay her."
"It's not about that." Alicent replied. "I have no issues with the tourney. But regarding the Kingsguard's allocation."
"Rhaenyra has ceded us the lion's share of the Kingsguard." Viserys reminded his wife. "Including the Lord Commander himself."
It was the last transport flight Daena and Caraxes had done on Westerosi soil, ferrying Ser Criston Cole and Ser Steffon Darklyn from King's Landing to their retinue in Felwood before departing off for Essos. Last reports had her heading for Lys, moving to rendezvous with Lord Jonas Blacktyde's Gold Fleet.
"She called four back to King's Landing, and only returned two." Alicent sniffed. "And she didn't even have the decency to return Ser Jessamyn Redfort."
"Frankly, given how close to death she came, I'd have preferred if Rhaenyra kept the three and gave us the one." Viserys replied, shivering slightly as he remembered seeing Rhaenyra's blade-crowned helmet shattered in a single mighty blow, and Ser Alys Royce's head pulped instantly.
"You've already dismissed the First Legion. And you want to further reduce our protection?" Alicent incredulously asked.
"The First Legion will sail with us to Longtable." Viserys reminded his wife. "And the Third Legion will meet us at the Blackwater Rush. It's just for a sennight, wife. Don't be too scared of being left without them."
After Storm's End, the Royal retinue had visited the freshly-rebuilt Bronzegate and Felwood, before heading east to Fawnton, where they'd take ships back up the Mander Canal to access the Riverlands from the God's Eye. The First Legion would sail south, to the great Legion camp being raised down at the Cockleswhent.
The bulk of the Legions were actually already down south. The Royal Fleet had ferried them there as swiftly as they could, and were sailing back up to send Viserys' own retinue north. After which, the ships would return to the Capital laden with all of the gifts that Viserys and the Royal Family had received over the span of their southern progress. The wines and fruits of the Reach. Citrus, spices and Sand Steeds from Dorne. Stormlands steel arms and armour.
A thoroughly efficient itinerary, for neither Corlys nor Rhaenyra were inclined to waste in that regard.
"I worry, because the border has been dangerous lately." Alicent retorted. "Have you not heard? Banditry on the rise. Lords shot while hunting and ladies set upon and despoiled."
"Pish posh, stuff and nonsense." Viserys waved away. "People always exaggerate rumours in peacetime. Rhaenyra assures me that there is no trouble in the south."
"And yet she has sent two full Legions down the Mander, while rushing us out of the Stormlands." Alicent pointedly stated.
"Why, that's just the men being enthusiastic!" Viserys laughed. "The First and Second Legion were raised from the men of the Dornish Marches. They're just eager to return home!"
"And are you not? We'll be sailing practically next door to King's Landing." Alicent pointed out. "A single order is all it takes to return home."
"Unfortunately not." Viserys sighed. "Rhaenyra has made it clear that I am of more use to her touring the Realm than ruling in the court. The Riverlands have been unruly ever since that horrible accident at Harrenhal. It's why she's told us to hurry up through the Stormlands. Visiting the Riverlords would allow us to shore up support and mend burnt bridges."
"Then why not you return and rule, and send Rhaenyra out on a progress of her own?" Alicent asked. "Surely you pity your daughter, stuck running the Realm while you frolic around on holiday?"
"Rhaenyra has already planned her own Grand Progress. And not just of the Realm, but the world. She wishes to fly Silverwing to the ends of it. To Asshai and beyond. It will happen when she is of age. Until then, she doesn't intend on resting." Viserys said appreciatively. "So yes, I do not feel guilty for foisting this all on my daughter, for in a few years time, it will be her foisting the ruling onto me."
Oh how proud of his daughter Viserys would be then. Bravest Rhaenyra intended on going on an adventure. She'd fly to the ends of the world, farther than any King before her every would, sampling every country and culture. She'd fill in the map, and bring back wonders to rival even Lord Corlys' treasure trove in High Tide.
Alicent shifted in her seat, in a gesture that Viserys took as agreement. The King was knocking back the last of his brandy when his wife spoke up once more.
"I don't like Rhaenyra." Alicent admitted. "She's good for the Realm, that I shall admit. But she's racking up too many enemies. You gave her handship last year, and how many fires has she had in that time?"
The Queen ran her hand through her hair in a most unladylike manner.
"The Stormlands nearly rebelled with Borros. And the Riverlands are unruly after Harrenhal. We have reports of a civil war brewing in the Westerlands. And though you disbelieve it, the border region between the Reach and Stormlands are a boiling pot of oil." Alicent listed out. "Rhaenyra is losing the Seven Kingdoms."
"The Stormlands were brought back into the fold. Daena's banishment has appeased many Riverlords and we shall settle the rest. The Westerlands are disputing, that I will not deny, but civil war is a gross exaggeration. Regardless, Rhaenyra assures me that she's got the situation under control." Viserys countered.
"Rhaenyra's handling of the Westerlands situation is to order the Daenys and the Fourth Legion to ride west and forcibly end hostilities." Alicent retorted. "The same way she's handling the border troubles using the First and Second Legions. She's being very heavy handed with her actions."
"What is the point of raising a professional army loyal solely to crown if not to defend the Realm, even from itself?" The King demanded. "I shall quote my daughter on the matter: Some situations require tact and delicacy. Others require a stern hand."
"Regardless, I cannot help but fear that based on her Handship, Rhaenyra's reign would be an unstable one. I think we need to consider other options." Alicent replied. "Mayhaps another Great Council should be called. Such that the Lords and Ladies may choose whom they'd like to seat the Iron Throne."
"I do not disagree that the recent year has been… tumultuous." Viserys conceded. "But the northern half of the Realm has been perfectly well behaved. Lady Jeyne's troubles in the Vale have been neatly ended, and her reign secured. The North and Beyond-the-Wall have buried the hatchet and the Ironborn have been reformed peacefully."
"Thanks to the actions of my father." Alicent countered. "It was him whom managed to persuade the Lords and Ladies of the Realm to agree to foster the Dragonseeds. Without Baela or Rhaena and their dragons in Runestone, Lady Arryn's position would be far more precarious. It was my father whom drew up the documents for legal recognition of the Ironborn Kingsmoot and him whom sent the maesters north to determine where best to place the Northern Canal.
"It is no coincidence that the Realm's troubles began when he left behind his golden hand pin." Alicent declared.
"I am of the belief that the troubles would have happened regardless of whom was Hand at the time." Viserys opined. "All problems can be traced back to Borros Baratheon, and his mutiny was long in the making."
"A mutiny which was Rhaenyra's fault." Alicent retorted. "If she didn't insist on treating highborn scions like foot soldiers, then this whole mess would never have happened."
"I remember that neither of you gainsaid her at the time, back when she first proposed the Legions." Viserys pointed out.
"It was part of her deal with my father." Alicent confessed. "My father would give Rhaenyra leave to do as she pleased, so long as she agreed to consider a Hightower groom for a husband."
"I am going to quote my daughter once again and say that there is no point in playing the blame game. What is done is done. All that's left is making the most of the hand we've been dealt." Viserys quoted. "We shall not debate what-ifs and should-haves."
"If you are unwilling to discuss the past, then we shall discuss the future." Alicent smoothly replied. "What happens, pray tell, if Rhaenyra proves herself inept at rule? If enough of the Realm bucks her authority as Crown Prince?
"And do not say that you have absolute faith that she will not make a mistake. Everyone makes mistakes." Alicent swiftly continued, Viserys swallowing his answer as his wife spoke. "What if she makes a big enough blunder, that she loses half the Realm?"
Viserys frowned hard, thinking about what his wife said. While it was true that he had absolute faith and trust in his firstborn, not even the finest of Hands and Kings had avoided making mistakes. And like it or not, Alicent was correct. Too much of the Realm was unruly and bucked his daughter's rule. He had every confidence that Rhaenyra could break them to the yoke, but it gnawed at the King. What if Rhaenyra failed?
"And you think that Aegon will be able to do better?" Viserys finally asked his wife.
"Mayhaps. Mayhaps not. Who can truly say now?" Alicent smoothly replied. "But does your very own daughter not preach about how the most skilled should be given the most rewards?"
Viserys frowned. That was true. Rhaenyra was an ardent supporter of meritocracies. She had made her stance clear that she believed that only the best and brightest deserved to rise.
Had Alicent declared unhesitatingly that Aegon would succeed where Rhaenyra failed, Viserys would have dismissed it immediately as just another of his wife attempts to seat her son on the Iron Throne, but Alicent herself had admitted that failure was a distinct possibility.
In fact, Viserys believed that Rhaenyra herself would agree that the most competent heir should rule. It was an enlightened way of thinking. Unorthodox and strange, but so far it was working out remarkably well with the Legions and bureaucracy.
Would a Kingdom be any different? Viserys wondered. He didn't know the answer to that question, but Alicent was correct. Depriving Aegon of a chance to prove himself was just dishonourable. But it'd be an uphill battle for his son. Rhaenyra was a decade older than Aegon, and would have only grown older and wiser by the time his secondborn was old enough to rule.
And yet…
If Aegon truly did succeed, despite such a handicap, was that not proof beyond proof that he was the flatly superior candidate?
"Fair is fair." Viserys finally said, hesitatingly. "I shall give Aegon a chance to prove himself. I trust that you have an idea?"
His wife nodded, eagerly leaning forwards.
"In ten years time, when Aegon is three and ten, like Rhaenyra was when you named her Hand of the King. We split the Realm in twain. Into two separate viceroyalties." The Queen answered. "The Westerlands, Reach, Stormlands and Dorne shall be ruled by Aegon from Oldtown, while Rhaenyra can rule the rest from King's Landing.
"They shall both sit as Viceroys, and after an agreed upon period of time, mayhaps a decade, the two viceroyalties will be reunified and an impartial body—Possibly the Conclave— will access whom has done a better job at rulership. Whom has the more successful viceroyalty and whom is the better King." Alicent suggested. "The winner will take the Iron Throne. The loser shall swear eternal fealty."
Viserys didn't agree to that plan.
And yet…
He didn't disagree.
Notes:
So. I've gotten a few messages from people that say I've done Alicent dirty, that she's portrayed as someone with zero scheming abilities in this fic. Well here's my repudiation.
Alicent is a good schemer. She's just been caught off guard by Rhae becoming Hand. Now she's finally gotten her feet back under herself and is back in the game.
———
In other news, this chapter will be the last for quite a while. Alice and I are going into NaNoWriMo, so there will be no updates as we're focusing on writing and only writing. It's the third for Alice, but the first one for me. Really excited.