Chapter Text
“We’ll be arriving soon,” one sister said to Laena and Ashara as they stood on the deck of the ship.
Laena thought about the missing women. It had escalated and gone from just women and girls to all children, babies too. The entire free cities were now scared. Some said it was the magic that caused the doom that was doing this; others blamed the wrath of the fourteen flames. Many fled their homes hoping that they could keep their children, wives, and sisters alive. But nobody had yet found an answer.
“My brother-in-law said the princess is kind. Hopefully, she’ll be able to help.” Ashara said
“I knew Rhaenyra a long time ago. Let us hope she is the answer to our questions, because we need to know who has been kidnapping those people,” Laena replied. Her heart was hammering; she would see her family again. The family who had tried to sell her to a terrible man twice. But she was not the same girl who had left Westeros. She was stronger, wiser.
Westeros had also clearly changed, for when Laena had been young, the idea of a female heir was taboo, is that not what led to the hatred in her own mothers heart? Rhaenys Targaryen had been denied the throne, and Laena hoped Rhaenyra would not be denied hers.
“Were you close to the now Crown princess?” one of the sisters asked her.
“Not since we were children, I was always jealous of her. She had power and I envied that.” Laena answered. “Silly of me really, she was isolated in the palace, her mother always being forced to the birthing bed, a fool for a father, a kingdom judging her every move."
“Sounds like a nightmare.” Ashara said
“It probably was, and I was too young and too blinded by my own worries to see it.” Laena admitted.
Aemma stood with Daemon as Viserys pulled out the conqueror’s crown. The Valyrian steel shone brightly, the large rubies around it giving it an air of magnificence.
“The conqueror’s crown gives the right symbolism. Aegon was our family's first king, and Rhaenyra shall be its first queen.” Daemon said. Viserys nodded.
Rhaenyra would always be connected to greatness, and her legacy would always persist. Aemma thought. How many future queens would take her name? What would her epithet be?
“Aemma should crown her.” Daemon said, removing Aemma from her observations.
“Aemma?” Viserys questioned.
“Yes, Aemma,” Daemon answered. “Or at least Aemma should be the one to place the crown on her head.”
She shook her head. “No, the realm must see that Viserys is doing this of his own free will. They mar Rhaenyra’s reign by calling her an overpowered tyrant. Viserys must be the one to do it.”
“She is overpowered.” Viserys muttered.
“You were right.” Viserys remarked to Otto, the former hand, had been brought to the king’s rooms so that he could say his piece to the man he had considered a friend. “I was a fool, but you see, my name will be tied to my daughters even in my stupidity. I will be the king who gave Westeros its first queen.”
“She will ruin the realm. Men would prefer to burn it down instead of being led by a woman!” Otto said bitterly.
“Then I suppose my daughter being bonded to fire since the day she was born is a good thing,” Viserys replied hauntingly.
“She killed them, you know; she is the reason you do not have a son,” Otto shouted as the king turned his back on him.
“Yes, I know, she told me, and I am glad, for given what I know now, I would have killed them myself. Your traitor blood deserved to be nowhere near mine. Consider it tit for tat for my trueborn son that you killed. Your house will die, your name will die; and when people look to find out why, it will be your name they utter. Do not worry, old friend, I’ll throw your ashes into the streets, and from now on you’ll be only an inconsequential cunt, a name people will mention reminding them not to aim too high, a cautionary tale of greed, and ego. Do you know what the best thing is? Your daughter caused your downfall. You should have taught her more than how to lie on her back!”
Alicent had not spoken to her husband since the feast. She had not seen or spoken to a Targaryen since Rhaenyra had told her of the fate of her family.
They would all die, her former friend had said.
Alicent entered the king’s rooms, and something whisked her back to where it all started. When she had so confidently donned her mother’s gowns and dreamed of her son on the throne. She had been so excited to finally be something other than the princess’s maid, something grander, someone history would remember. But here she stood years later, her family facing extinction, and they would make her life a cautionary tale. What would they label her? Alicent the greedy? She wondered.
Viserys turned to face her. The king wore red and black, and she had never seen her husband look so put together, not even on their wedding day. His hair was even in the braids his brother favoured. The ones she had seen his newly risen family members wear. She had spent countless hours watching Rhaenyra braid her hair like that.
“Alicent,” her husband said. His tone was bitter, and Alicent stepped back. For Viserys’s purple eyes blazed; she had never seen them like that before; she had always associated that dark alight hue with the rogue prince. But she instantly realised that had been her mistake; she had forgotten that her husband was a Targaryen too.
“I annulled our marriage. The High Septon has agreed to it, given your family’s treason.” Viserys declared. Her breathing got louder to her ears. “The High Septon declared regretfully that the sept cannot accept a disgraced former queen whose family is implicated in the murder of children.” The people would riot.”
“Please, Viserys, please.” She begged; she got on her knees, tears streaming down her face.
“My daughter will decide on what your punishment shall be,” Viserys proclaimed. “The girl you so gleefully wanted to be better than shall decide if you live or die.”
“Please, I loved you! I gave my life to you!” Alicent yelled.
“No, your life always belonged to your father; you were his perfect puppet.” The king raged. “Tell me, how would Otto have reacted if I sent you from my rooms and branded you a whore?”
“He would have defended me!” Alicent snapped.
Viserys laughed a disdainful laugh. “Otto would have sacrificed you quicker than you could blink. He would sacrifice anything for power. Your father has never loved you. He has loved nothing other than power!”
“What about you?” Alicent said, standing up now. “You sacrificed your daughter and your wife for a son!” she accused. Jabbing her fingers in his chest. She should have seen it coming, but she had never expected violence from her husband. The slap was hard and fast! Alicent crashed to the floor, a combination of how hard Viserys had hit her, and how surprised she had been from the action.
The king loomed over her, now panting harshly.
“How dare you!” Viserys raged. “I made you something; you and your father were nothing without me!”
Alicent curled into a ball and shivered; she was going to die; she wagered. She had awakened the dragon in her husband, and he was going to kill her. The blood dripping from her nose mixed with the tears in her eyes.
Who will mourn you? She remembered Aemma’s harsh words to her.
“What is going on here?” A voice said, and she would always know that voice.
“Rhaenyra!” Viserys said, and Alicent to a chance and looked up. Rhaenyra stood in a red gown that had gold trim on it. The train of the gown led to the door, making her look like a walking flame.
“Why don’t you get up?” Rhaenyra said. There was no warmth in her tone, but it was not cold either. Alicent remembered belatedly that it was pitying. She pitied Alicent. “The king is done with whatever this was.” She looked at Viserys now, as if daring him to contradict her.
Your mother was right; you were always born to be superior. At least to me. Alicent reasoned as she looked at the princess of Dragonstone.
Viserys contemplated what to say to Rhaenyra as she observed a crying Alicent stumble out of the room.
“Please let’s sit,” Viserys said. This was a conversation he felt had been a long time coming.
Rhaenyra regarded him for a moment, and what she saw in his eyes must have been enough, for she nodded and sat down.
She allowed Viserys to gather himself, and for that he was grateful.
“All my life, I have never been the best at anything, at least not for long. My legacy always had a shroud of death. My dragon, my crown, my marriages. Everything.” Viserys began. He started outside, taking a deep breath. He had to be honest.
“Daemon was always the warrior, Rhaenys the brain. I was never the best on the training ground, and I am not smarter than Rhaenys. So I clung to my dreams, believing I was a dreamer, because that made me special; that was something even death could not take away from me. But I am no dreamer. I am just a failure.”
“You are,” Rhaenyra said softly.
“What?” Viserys queried.
“You are a failure, but you are also a dreamer.” Viserys looked at his daughter now, and he sat there in shock. “I told you in Winterfell; dreams are sent as warnings. That you are a halfwit does not change the power the gods gave you.” She shrugged. Viserys swallowed a sharp breath.
“Deanys had one dream, and so did you. Thankfully, Deanys had a functioning brain. Otherwise, we’d all be dead.”
Viserys sat there and allowed the information to process through his mind. He was a dreamer. He was a dreamer, but, more importantly, he had been a fool.
Rhaenyra sat silently and allowed him to ruminate over the eye opening realisation.
Viserys cleared his throat, deciding that he could not make this moment about himself; it was about his daughter.
“I know that I have failed as a father, as a brother, as a wife, as a king.” Viserys said, and as he reached out to hold his daughter’s hand, she pulled back slightly, but ultimately allowed him to hold her hand.
“I wish to rewrite my mistakes. I want you to be queen.” He said to his daughter.
“You want to use me to avoid making tough decisions?” Rhaenyra snapped. “You lead us into this mess, it should be your job to clean it up.”
“You have every right to think this of me, but I swear to you, I spoke to Aemma, to Daemon, to my parents and my uncle, and they all agreed, I am not the ruler for this moment, you are. The realm is on the precipice of something, should I continue to lead it, it may all turn to shit, but with you at the helm, there is nothing but greatness.” Viserys said. “You are greatness personified.”
Rhaenys stood with the rest of her family in the throne room. This was the first time that the lords of the realm had all gathered since the last shambolic feast. She looked out into the crowd and noticed that the room looked nervous. They must have heard about the death sentence to House Hightower.
The herald cleared his throat and spoke.
“The crown princess Rhaenyra and the King Viserys of House Targeryen.”
It was time, Rhaenys thought. She looked on as Viserys and Rhaenyra walked towards them. Rhaenyra kept her eyes on her husband and eldest sons; she would occasionally glance towards her youngest sons, who were being held by her father and uncle. When they finally reached the front, Viserys stopped and walked up to Aemma and took her hand, leading her to the other side of their daughter. They both walked her up the stairs and sat her down on the throne.
Rhaenys chanced a look at the crowd. Many whispered. Alicent Hightower looked on with tears. The sight must be too much for the girl. Rhaenys felt sadness for the girl, the creation of one man’s greed, another’s lust and her own stupidity.
Aemma stood next to Rhaenyra on her left side, and Daemon walked up to them, carrying the crown of the conqueror.
“In the name of the fourteen that my family and I have long served, I stand before you and abdicate my throne, willingly and happily. I present to you Queen Rhaenyra of houses Arryn, Stark and Targeryen, Queen of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, lady of the seven kingdoms and protector of the realm.” Viserys said to the almost silent hall.
He lifted the crown up and bowed slightly.
“In the name of the fourteen, I crown you.” He placed the crown on her head, and as he did, all the dragons roared as if they had been waiting for this moment. The north, and the Vale were the first to clap and cheer on their new queen. “Long live the queen!”
“Long live the Queen!” The room roared.
“Some of you will be disappointed to call me the ruler of the realm.” The new queen began. Rhaenyra and her family were now the only ones beside the throne. Her two eldest boys stood to her left, and her husband, holding their other two sons, stood to her right.
“I am no Aegon, no Maegor, no Jaehaerys, no Viserys. I am unlike any ruler you have ever seen. So, allow me to introduce myself. I am the granddaughter of Rodrik, Baelon, Alyssa, and Daella, niece of Daemon, daughter of Viserys and Aemma. Wife of Cregan, mother of Alexander, Augustus, Aurelius, and Archibald. The bonded of Syrax, the golden goddess. Queen of the realm. I am the first person since the doom that befell my people to hatch a dragon in my crib. I am the weirder of elements, Arrax’s chosen one. Anyone stupid enough to forget the power I wield, I will remind them with fire and blood. So, I ask that you remember who and what I am before you engage in any thoughts of treason. I urge you to never forget that I am Rhaenyra, first of my name.”
Qoren regarded the room as Rhaenyra essentially threatened the realm. He wanted to snicker as the Lannisters almost seemed to sink into the background, almost trying not to be seen by the new queen. Rhaenyra stood up, and her red dress trailed behind her. They returned the children to their rooms after swearing the oaths.
“I know that many of you are afraid, for dragons roam the sky, and fire flows from my fingertips. But I am not your enemy, if you do not make yourself mine. I will always respect the fury of House Baratheon, commend the roars of House Lannister, and the strength of House Tyrell. You built yourselves up from what many would consider insignificant bloodlines to the Lord Paramounts of your former kingdoms.” The new queen states and the room cheers. “My heart rejoices that House Tully holds family, before even duty and honour and the chivalry and honour of House Arryn flows in my veins, ancient houses that inspire me. May we all have the inner strength of House Greyjoy, for they shall always find a way, and the warrior spirit is ever present in House Martell.” Qoren joins in the applause now; the throne room is bouncing with energy. “We are all aware of my eternal love for the lords of Winter.” At this, the room laughs, and some lords start to jeer and whistle. “The seven kingdoms may all have different beliefs, different ways of showing excellence. But every kingdom is exceptional.”
Rhaenyra stooped and allowed the crowd to bask in their happiness.
“House Hightower has insulted the loyalty and trust my family gave them. They gave us dead babes when we made their daughters queens; they poisoned us when we gave their second sons a voice. They robbed, killed and stole from us, from you! For would your daughters not have made better queens? So it is with a heavy heart that I sentence Otto and Hobert Hightower to death! The realm will have their daughters as servants, and their sons will serve in the Night’s Watch. From today onwards, their house will cease to exist!”
“Death to the traitors!” Someone shouted, and the entire room exploded.
“Death!” “Hang them!”
Qoren felt impressed. She had just ordered the eradication of an old house, and because she had coated it in flowery language, the realm was onboard.
Rhaenyra raised her hand, and the room fell silent.
“At such a trying time, it is a great help to know that there are multitudes of friends all around the realm who wish House Targaryen well. I am grateful, and I am deeply moved. With that, I declare before you all that my whole life, from this moment on, whether it be long or short, shall be devoted to the service of the realm and the service of my great family,” Rhaenyra remarked. “If we all go forward together with an unwavering faith, a high courage, and a quiet heart, we shall be able to make this ancient realm, which we all love so dearly, an even grander thing - more prosperous, more powerful, more happy - than it has been in the greatest days of our forefathers.”
She paused and looked around the room.
“But I shall not have strength to carry this out alone, I will need you to join me, for when history recalls this moment, I want each and everyone of you, to be a part of it.”
“Long live the queen!”
“Rhaenyra the Great!”