-Chapter 8-
-POV Daemon Targaryen-
Once we finished lunch, servants came to take Aemon and the young Lady of the Vale to play, and I was left alone with the Protector of the Vale, who said: "I know perfectly well why you are here, so let's not waste time on the question."
"My conditions are simple. I want Aemon to be betrothed to Jeyne Arryn, and their second child to become the Lord of Runestone."
"Agreed, and Aemon will change his name."
"Aemon is my son."
"And that will not change, but if ever..."
"No, it is not negotiable. Aemon is a dragon rider and will not change his name; it is a royal order," I said, cutting off any idea the Protector of the Vale might have had.
He frowned and then said, "I am not entirely satisfied, but as long as Rhea's grandson inherits her lordship..."
"It seems we misunderstood each other...you must name Aemon heir, not his mother," Daemon said.
'Because I don't want that witch to have any power to cause trouble,' I thought, remembering a time during our arguments when she had shouted that she was looking forward to the day she would leave with Aemon...MY SON.
"Rhea is my daughter and..."
"You will vote against having a queen because she is a woman; you must remain consistent."
"Jeyne Arryn is a woman," he said, trying to use his ward's situation as leverage.
"And Aemon will be there for her as the Protector of the Vale, and their sons will be Lords of Runestone and Guardians of the Vale...your direct descendants," I said, reminding him that we all had something to gain.
He clenched his jaw but finally nodded, and I said, "Aemon will inherit your fief, marry your ward, and their children will be Royces and Arryns."
"And the dragons?" said the Protector of the Vale.
"Dragons are for the true children of House Targaryen, no one else."
---
-POV Yorbert Royce-
I suppressed a frown and said, "Very well, we are in agreement. House Royce, as well as the Vale, will all side with you."
"Thank you very much, dear father-in-law. The council will be held in two moons at Harrenhal, but I would also like to know what you will do if the problem becomes more concrete."
"What are you trying to say?" I asked, not understanding what he was talking about.
"If my cousin were to win, or if she were to lose and react badly to her defeat, she would surely have the support of the Starks and Baratheons, who are nations that have produced great warriors and a strong people. She might want to back her claim with force, and given my grandparents' age, I doubt they would decide to take part in this war."
"Which would leave only one dragon capable of taking part in the battle in each camp," I said, understanding that he was asking for my support in this possible campaign.
I smiled and said, "I doubt that will happen; the king is still strong. But if it ever does, we will discuss it in due time."
Prince Daemon, surprisingly, did not seek a definitive answer and was satisfied with the one I gave him.
---
-2 moons later-
For two entire moons, we visited practically all of the Vale. I had personally met all the lords and heirs, as well as the young lady of the Vale. My father had insisted that I personally meet all my future vassals, as he called them.
I don't know if he was really doing all this for me, but in any case, I was happy because thanks to him, I would gain a good reputation as the future Lord of Runestone and have the resources of the second most powerful House in the Vale.
What bothered me, however, was how the news would affect my mother, as I understood from Daemon's tone that bypassing my mother in the line of succession was a punishment for not being a docile and submissive wife.
I wouldn't go so far as to say I hated Daemon because, as a father, he was a 'good' father. He was present at times, gave me gifts, and did not mistreat me, so I had nothing to reproach him for on that side. However, he was a miserable husband who felt humiliated by being forced to marry a second-rate woman when he could have married his aunt Gael or a woman from a Great House.
All this so-called 'humiliation' was taken out on my mother, and of course, with her strong character, she did not let herself be pushed around and showed her claws, which annoyed Daemon. Both are terribly stubborn and each wants to see the other's ego bend to their own, especially Daemon.
I didn't want my relationship with my mother in this world to fracture because of this, but I couldn't do anything because I was barely 2 years old.
Thus, after terrifying all the lords and their heirs with our dragons and fascinating all their ladies and young girls, we finally took flight to join the small army of mercenaries that Daemon had gathered near Harrenhal.
---
-POV 3rd-
"He must return to Dragonstone immediately, or he risks never seeing the queen again."
"I will not leave my son with those dogs."
"This is not about your little quarrel with the Velaryons. Your grandmother is at death's door, and all she wants is to see her..."
"She will not die," said Daemon without taking it.
"And how could you know? You haven't seen her in almost two moons. Her condition has deteriorated," said Rhea.
"In three days, the Great Council will take place; she can wait three days," said Daemon.
"If she dies, your son will not forgive you," said Rhea furiously.
"He won't even remember it; he is still too young. The Velaryons will bring Laenor Velaryon and his dragon Seasmoke to prove they have a young dragon rider. We must have a countermeasure. Urrax is that countermeasure," said Daemon nonchalantly.
---
-3 days later-
-POV MC-
"Dear cousin, I hope that whatever the outcome, we will remain on good terms," said Rhaenys.
Viserys nodded and said with a kind smile, "We remain, above all, a family."
Although both seemed friendly, just seeing the way Daemon and Corlys looked at each other was enough to understand how close a war between the two branches of House Targaryen was.
I observed everyone, and even though I already knew the result of this vote, I was a bit scared that my birth would cause a butterfly effect that could change the future of the succession. My great-grandmother, who was supposed to die a year ago, was still alive, so who knows what could happen now that I had been involved in this succession war by my father.
Deep down, I was even a little afraid that the Dance of the Dragons would start now instead of 30 years later.
King Jaehaerys Targaryen sat on the throne set up in his honor in the Hall of the Hundred Hearths, calmly waiting for the vote to end. Hundreds of lords from the realm had gathered here with their families to vote for the king or queen they wanted to see on the throne, which I found absurd because the monarchy is not a democracy, and giving the power to elect a monarch was desacralizing the monarchy.
Once the last vote was counted, the tallying took place, and I quickly felt relieved because almost everyone voted for my uncle Viserys. A dragon war was avoided, and that was all that mattered, or so I thought.
---
-3 days later-
"Today we are gathered to bid farewell to Queen Alysanne Targaryen, the 'Good Queen,' a woman, a mother, a grandmother, and more recently a great-grandmother, whose only priority has always been the unity of House Targaryen..."
While the king spoke and recited her eulogy, I couldn't comprehend it; I couldn't believe she was gone.
'You hypocritical bastard,' I thought, watching him deliver his prepared speech.
I couldn't calm the burning rage I felt towards this coward.
On the one hand, I understood why, as head of House Targaryen, Rhaenys should not be named heir to the Iron Throne.
But he was the king, and the humiliation and fracture he caused with this Great Council out of simple cowardice were unnecessary and had ultimately broken his wife, who had clung to life since the death of almost all her children.
I felt a hand on my shoulder, turned around, and saw my father looking at me with an unreadable expression.
I wanted to shake his hand off my shoulder but held back because I couldn't ruin everything I had built simply for a childish reaction.
I bit my tongue and turned my head without saying anything.
I didn't know if he cared, but he must have seen that I resented him and was angry.
It would take someone completely blind not to see the hatred written on my face, but no one said anything because, although my reaction was strange, I was still just a 2-year-old child.
"Aemon," said the king, pulling me abruptly out of my thoughts.
I turned my gaze to him without responding, trying to contain my mood, and he said:
"In my wife's last wishes, she decided that Urrax should be the dragon to light her funeral pyre."
I felt like I had been punched once he finished speaking, and I didn't say anything for a moment.
The king said, "If you don't feel capable, I can do it."
I instantly replied, "No, I am not a coward..."
While finishing inwardly, '...unlike you.'
Although I didn't say it, he must have guessed what I was really thinking and feeling because...
'All your emotions are always written on your face, my little dragon.'
That's what Grandma used to say when she tried to tease me gently.
I stepped forward with my head down, thinking of all our moments together, the walks, the breakfasts, the dinners, learning High Valyrian, and even learning the habits of dragons.
All those moments were extremely precious because, thanks to her, I fully realized that this fictional world had become my new reality, that my family, though dysfunctional, was my family in this world, and that I had to take the best and enjoy my life because this second chance might be the only and unique chance to live for me.
Once close enough, without even having to open my mouth, Urrax stepped forward and made a long, hoarse noise. I lifted my head determinedly, looked at my great-grandmother's embalmed body, and then said, "Thank you for everything you did. Farewell..."
I turned my head to Urrax and, in a strong voice without any tremor, said, "DRACARYS URRAX."