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Chapter Text

The weirwood tree's leaves never did fall. Or, if they did, Alicent never saw them on the ground. The red-blood leaves never touched the green grass nor the stony ground around the roots. Roots they usually sat by, under the leaves. It was a strong tree, if a pagan one, a symbol of heathens, her father always said, Alicent admired it. She wished she could be just as strong as the weirwood trees, that never bent, never shed parts of themselves, never broke.

Unlike her. She did break, more often than not.

More often than not her skin broke under her nails, and her blood stained her fingers. Her gowns. Her lips, sometimes. A lady oughtn't know how blood tasted like. No, ladies were soft and clear, made of silk, and flowers and honeyed milk. But Alicent knew. Alicent had savored the metallic taste of it on her tongue. Was she still a lilac flower in bloom from Oldtown, then, after tasting blood? Was Rhaenyra, after riding her golden beast to the clouds?

Targaryens were made of something different altogether, they were made of spilled blood, fire, steel and brimstone, but Rhaenyra was a lady still. She still had to be soft, otherwise no lord would want her.

And, oh, how they wanted her. The Realm's Delight who had bloomed in the last year, just as Alicent had, but she did not turn nearly as many heads as Rhaenyra did. Of course, while she was a beauty of House Hightower, as her father always told her, she could not compare to the valyrian god-like beauty of her closest friend. The only one who could was Lady Laena Velaryon, another valyrian lady just two years older than them both. Rider of the mighty Vhagar, the most fearsome dragon that there was. But even the Pearl of Driftmark had to compete with Rhaenyra.

"What do we think of Nymeria's marriages?" her friend asked, back against the weirwood tree and an open book on her lap. They were surrounded by cushions and blankets, sitting on them to not touch the grass. When they were children and their gowns were stained green because of their games in the gardens her father could endure. But she was a maiden now, soon to be wed, much that it terrified her, and could not indulge in pleasures that had once seemed so assured to be always hers. A long time ago "I can understand the need, I suppose, but her late choices after her first husband were...questionable"

Alicent shrugged ever so slightly, as if fearing to wrinkle her blue gown.

"She needed to be wed as long as she was of childbearing age"

"Why?" Rhaenyra frowned "She did not wed them for love, and she had four daughters already, later one son as well. I see no reason to wed a third time, or even a second"

"Mayhaps she did not wish to rule alone" Alicent offered kindly.

"She ruled alone in Ny Sar, and during her later years" her friend answered as if frustrated by her words, or mayhaps for the words in the book "Why could she not do it while she was young?" 

"Women must have children until their childbearing years are over" Alicent smiled, trying to soften the harm her words would cause her "It is just how it is"

How the Gods intended it to be, her father always reminded her. And he was always right.

"Until their childbearing years are over" Rhaenyra repeated blankly "or until they die. Like it happened to both my grandmothers. Or your own mother"

Alicent looked down while hiding her hands in her lap, digging her nails on the tender skin of her fingers. It hurt, but she made no sound. No movement betrayed what she had done. What she did to herself. 

Her mother had died a year ago, after giving birth to another boy for her father. The fourth boy. A boy who did not live longer than half-a year. Just like her mother. Alerie Hightower was an unexpected loss for her family, she had been young still, only three and thirty name days of age, and never had any issue during childbirth. She delivered five babes in ten years, and recovered swiftly afterwards. Always. Until she had not. Until the childbed fever took her from Alicent. Until she left her all alone with her father and brothers. 

The loss was so great, Alicent could barely speak of it.

Rhaenyra seemed to know, however, she always seemed to know. The book on her lap closed with a thud, and soon she was wrapping her arms around Alicent. Embracing her. Warming her with her closeness. 

Alicent circled her fingers around her friend's arm, staining the sleeves of her pink gown, but neither cared for it in that moment. 

"All shall be well, Ali, you'll see" 

The words were meant to be comforting, but Alicent knew they were lies. Because they were. Her mother would never return to her, and soon she will be married off to any lord of her father's choosing. There was no way to be well in any of her futures. Whatever her future even was. Whoever the lord she was to marry was.

Rhaenyra let go of her, red stains on her pink gown. Alicent smiled reassuringly. 

"Of course. You are right" 

She was not, and she even knew it, or mayhaps she did not. After all, Rhaenyra was a princess. She would wed a high lord, or her own beloved uncle, and take her dragon with her. Take her protection with her. Alicent could not, for she had none. 

"Come with me" Rhaenyra stood up "let us go see my mother. She is surely feasting on some pastries, for the new babe gives her many craving"

Everyone took that as a sign that the child would live, the Queen's cravings, but Alicent had her doubts. Out of ten babes she bore, only Rhaenyra survived. 

Alicent just nodded, the sky was turning dark already, and followed her, not revealing her thoughts. It was best if she did not. For Rhaenyra and for herself. Thinking of the death of a member of the royal family was forbidden, considered treason. And Alicent was no traitor.

Queen Aemma was, indeed, feasting on lemon, cherry and strawberry cakes that the kitchens had baked just for her. Laying in a settee wearing a light blue gown, the Queen directed her gaze to the two of them the moment they entered her apartments.

"Rhaenyra" she called for her daughter, and all but ignored Alicent. The Queen did not like her, never had. Otto Hightower said it was because she had wished for Laena Velaryon as the main companion for her only child, but Alicent had been there before and Rhaenyra had chosen her. And the Lady Laena would not take any place, but the first one. Or mayhaps those were her parents, for, after all, Laena was but a maiden, even if she was one made of brimstone, and like Alicent she would obey her father "Have you seen the Lady Laena? Rhaenys tells me she would like to see her cousin"

Alicent winced, it was as if her thoughts had been made real just by thinking of them.

"Good afternoon, Your Grace" she whispered.

Queen Aemma did not spare her a glance.

"Why is there blood on your gown?" she questioned her daughter "Alicent, leave us"

Her tense body hurried to obey the Queen's orders despite Rhaenyra's protests. She couldn't disobey. She never did.

So there she stood, behind a closed door, not being able to hear anything of what was going inside. Always waiting outside. That was her life.

Alicent heard the laughter before seeing him. The boisterous laughter of men, alongside the clinking of the armours as they moved. Her breath caught on her throat when her eyes fell upon the Prince and heir apparent, Daemon Targaryen. She had heard much of him, but rarely ever truly gazed upon him. Every time he came to King's Landing he spent the days in the city, with the people. Her father said it was unbecoming of a Prince, but Alicent knew how much that benefitted him. Both him and Rhaenyra, and Lady Laena, Princess Rhaenys and Queen Aemma were quite known for their charity.

As a child, she had been told than charity was a thing of women, but even the women did not spend time talking to the smallfolk and playing games with them, drinking with them. But Prince Daemon did.

"It is a trick, Alicent" her father told her once "so that the people would support him over any boy that might be born to the King. All Daemon does is play tricks" 

She heard those words now, as her eyes admired the valyrian beauty of the Prince. His silver mane, his dark purple eyes, the sharp line of his jaw, his slender and graceful, yet strong built. And the smirk. That smirk that always graced his face whenever she saw him.

Prince Daemon Targaryen was made of the fabric of songs.

"Lady Alicent" he greeted, golden cloak swinging behind him. Alicent blushed "Why are you not with the Princess?" 

It took her a while to respond, so long that the three Gold Cloaks behind the Prince laughed again.

Her face burned.

"The Queen wished to speak alone with Rhaeny- the Princess Rhaenyra" 

Prince Daemon's smirk widened.

"A lady as lovely as you oughtn't be all alone in the hallways" his voice was as smooth as silk.

Alicent giggled. And she felt foolish doing so.

"The Queen ordered me, I fear I have no choice" 

The Prince hummed.

"And you are obedient, I see"

His dark eyes were setting aflame her blood. She could feel the warmth, the burn, travelling through her body.

"Is that a bad thing, My Prince?" she dared speak, voice raspy.

"Not at all, Lady Alicent"

That was the last thing he said before disappearing inside the Queen's apartments. Then, she heard more laughter.

A lady oughtn't to be pacing the hallways alone in the midst of the night. But she could not find sleep and Rhaenyra kept moving, muttering nonsense in high valyrian —Alicent did not know what exactly — and dreaming aloud.

Her feet took her to the catacombs, underground, to where Rhaenyra oft guided her. Where the skull of the mighty Balerion laid on an altar surrounded by candles and their small flames. 

Alicent walked silently, bare feet over the smooth stone. So quietly she stepped that almost immediately after walking down the stairs she heard it.

Lewd sounds that no maiden ought to be listening to. The voice of a man and a woman. Breathless giggles and breathy moans she could not understand. The girl sounded in pain, but at the same time not. 

She moved to see them, whoever they were, fueled by a curiosity she had locked inside her being. A curiosity no lady should have. 

When close enough, she could see silver hair shining under the candle's light. Ringlets of silver and gold cascading down a maiden's ochre naked back. Her shift wrinkled around her waist, showing her naked breasts, and thighs being grabbed by pale hands with such force the skin might bruise. 

"Daemon!" the Pearl of Driftmark exclaimed, and for a moment, Alicent feared she might have been seen. 

But her exclamation was merely out of a feeling Alicent did not know.

The Lady Laena and Prince Daemon were coupling, outside of wedlock, like fallen women did. It was sinful and dirty, and Alicent should have looked away, but she did not.

Prince Daemon pounded into her with a groan, a sound that made Alicent's blood turn into fire. A picture that made her sweat, that caused her breath to hitch.

A strange feeling pooled in her lower belly, bidding her thighs to press themselves together, heart pounding in her chest.

Whatever that feeling was, Alicent knew it was not natural. It could not be.

Not another second passed before Alicent turned and fled the scene.

Chapter Text

He much preferred awaking on his bed on Dragonstone, surrounded by brimstone that that warmed him at night and salt he could taste on his tongue. Dragonstone, where he used to keep Mysaria. Before Viserys sent her and their child to their deaths. 

Often times he still raged about their tragic fates. Raged against the fine objects of his chambers, raged against his soldiers while they sparred, raged against Viserys for his part on it. No hand was lifted against his brother, of course, he could not do such thing, for Viserys was King.

But he had learnt how to mask it, how to smile like a courtier ought to when the King told some jest.

Daemon carefully braided his hair before the looking glass. His mother had taught him how, he recalled little about her, but that he did remember.

He had awoken alone that morrow. Something he did not quite enjoy. He preferred awaking by Laena's side, at Dragonstone, fuck her right after opening his eyes and smelling the sea-salt in her silver ringlets. But that could not be done in the Red Keep, for they would slander dear Laena and tarnish her reputation.

His braided hair perfectly fell behind his back, moving slightly as he walked to the door. Behind it he find a servant that dared not to meet his eyes.

"The Queen has invited you to break your fast with her, My Prince" he muttered. 

Daemon nodded, walking out of his bedchambers after the manservant stepped aside.

Aemma was clothed on a pink gown, sitting at a round table with her back against the chair, leaning back. The table was set with a white tablecloth and all kinds of meals and pastries decorating it.

His dear sister was surrounded by maids and midwives, all running from one place to the other. It infuriated him and he had just arrived.

"Good morrow, brother" she greeted with a soft smile, but Daemon could see the tension on her skin "How did you sleep?"

Daemon sat in front of her and poured himself some wine.

"I slept well enough" 

Aemma nodded, blue eyes travelling around the room. From maid to midwife and back again.

"You have my permission to withdraw" 

Some of the servants hesitated, but eventually they all obeyed the Queen.

"Why do we need such privacy, dear sister? Not that I am complaining, I much prefer not to have rats around listening to what we say and using it against us" 

Aemma grabbed a cherry cake and took a bite.

"I am the Queen, Daemon" he sipped the wine from his cup "any and all tongues that speak against me shall fall"

Smirking, Daemon leaned against the chair.

"That is as it should be, sister, not as it is. We both know how many rats and worms wander around the Red Keep" 

Dear Aemma shared his disdain for Otto Hightower, mainly out of her love for Rhaenys, but she did. The leech spent years throwing remarks at her about how unfit she was as Queen. Remarks that Viserys, foolish as he was, never saw as offensive and treasonous. They were, of course they were. A second son speaking ill of the Queen ought to be beheaded, but his feckless brother would never act according with his station. A part of Daemon wondered if he was fucking Otto Hightower, for that, at least, would better explain his behaviour.

"Rhaenys made me aware of some rather interesting news" she poured some honey in her steaming milk, and watched it dissolving "About you, brother, and the Lady Laena" 

Carefully, Daemon picked a piece of apple and took it to his mouth, taking his time before responding.

"And what of it?" 

"What of it?" Aemma blinked "You are married! And while I can overlook the disrespect directed to my dear cousin Rhea, as I know you are both against this marriage, I cannot, for the life of me, overlook the way you are ruining Lady Laena's life, by sullying her reputation"

"I intend to make Laena my wife, there's no possibility of sullying her reputation there"

Aemma drank her milk, a worried look on her face, shinning on her eyes, coming off of each feature of her face, each pore of her skin.

"Noble intentions, Daemon, for I am sure that all you want is to make her your wife" she was not. She knew better than to think such of him "But Viserys would not allow it. Will not give you the annulment. You have been asking for six years, why would he change his mind now?"

Because of Meleys, Vhagar and Caraxes. Because Laena will soon be with child, Gods know I have fucked her often enough, and he will not be able to deny it. Nor will his council.

"He will have to. But worry not, sister, no one will be harmed" 

"For that much I pray" her sigh came accompanied of a wince.

Daemon leaned forward. Never would he deny his worry over his family members. He might loathe Viserys, hope he would perish in pain, but Aemma, Rhaenyra, Laena, Laenor and Rhaenys were still in his heart. Always would be. 

"Are you quite well, sister?" 

A smile spread across Aemma's face immediately, but it was too tense. Something was worrying her. Something was hurting her. 

"Very well, brother. 'Tis simply the child. This babe is active, as Rhaenyra was" such words should sound hopeful, but to Daemon they sounded pained "He will be born healthy, no doubt"

Very much doubt. Especially in the sex of the babe.

Even if the child was born healthy, nothing guaranteed that it would be a boy. Most of Aemma's miscarriages had been girls, as with the stillbirths. The only boy had been Jaehaerys, who died in his cradle before turning a moon turn. Aemma had been broken by his death, and the pieces of her shattered into more tiny pieces with each child she lost. 

"I shall pray for that" 

He would pray for a girl, a healthy girl, to remain the Heir of the Iron Throne. 

But even in the rare case of the child being a healthy boy, he would still have Driftmark and the Stepstones. 

The door was open with no care for permission not knocking, and his dear niece entered the Queen's Apartments with the Hightower bird trailing after her with her eyes down. 

At five and ten, Rhaenyra had flowered into a beautiful maiden, of silver locks and fair violet eyes and figure than became fuller by the day in all of the right places. Were she a tad older, he would wed her now. But as it was, he had to wait. In the meantime, he had his dear Laena.

"Uncle!" Rhaenyra giggled and threw herself at him, surrounding his neck with her slender arms "I have missed you!" 

Daemon chuckled.

"You saw me yesterday, my sweet" he pulled her towards him, making her sit on his lap.

"But I have missed you all the same" she pouted as she was known to do.

He kissed her cheek, nose brushing against her skin. Rhaenyra squirmed on his lap with a delighted laugh. Her pert little ass pressing against his cock.

Fuck.

Daemon took a deep breath, trying to distract himself. This was not his little niece any longer, but a beautiful maiden nearly grown into womanhood.

"I have something for you, stand up" 

Rhaenyra did as he asked without questioning, which did nothing to stop the thoughts of bending her over the table full of pastries.

Daemon stood up next, trying to make sure nothing betrayed his thoughts, but Aemma watched over him like a hawk. He ignored it, of course, and collared her daughter's neck with a fine necklace. A valyrian steel chain with three great tear-shaped rubies hanging from it.

His hands rested on Rhaenyra's shoulder, making her appear so very little.

"Turn around" he whispered, delighting himself with the way his niece trembled under his hands. When Rhaenyra turned, a big smile decorated her beautiful face "Gevie" 

He did not meant the necklace. How could he, when she was there?

She flushed red, his little niece, but did not look away.

Bold little dragon.

"It is so beautiful, uncle!" She then twirled around, long and wide purple sleeves flying behind her "What do you think, Ali?" 

The Hightower girl raised her gaze from the floor, slowly and awkwardly.

"It is truly beautiful, Rhaenyra" 

Rhaenyra. Such familiarity with the Princess oughtn't be allowed nor encouraged for those of lesser blood and station, and yet his niece did not seem to care for it. 

Such a big heart, it'll shrink with time.

"I must be off to ready myself for sparring with my Gold Cloaks, I fear. But I shall see you later" 

"Oh, yes, Viserys wishes for the whole family to dine together" Aemma said, but she was still tense, still worried.

Daemon resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He would.

"Sister. Niece" he bowed superficially before leaving the Queen's Apartments.

Despite it, he did not miss the way little Alicent Hightower blushed up to the tip of her ears.

It seemed that not even one with the blood of that leech was able to resist his charms.

That made him smirk, and with that same smirk he walked back to his bedchambers.

Sweet and welcomed was the scent of hibiscus and salt that floated in the air of his chambers. And even more welcomed was the sight of dear Laena, naked and laying on his bed.

Laena was one of the most beautiful women he had ever laid eyes on, and she was all his.

"Well, this is a surprise" he walked slowly towards the bed, freeing himself from whatever piece of clothing that felt unnecessary "What are you doing here, ñuha nūmio?" 

The sun that crept into the room through the windows illuminated Laena's wicked smile. She shrugged delicately, slightly opening her legs, allowing him to get a glimpse of her cunt.

"I thought you would appreciate my presence, more than anyone else" she laid her head full of silver-gold curls on the pillow, feet planted on the mattress, over the sheets, to show even more of her "Do you not appreciate me, Daemon?" 

Daemon's cock stirred at the view, at the thought, at the memory.

Sooner than expected he was free from the bindings of his clothing, as bare as her, kneeling on the edge of the bed.

Laena blinked sheepishly at him, in that way she had their first night together, but while that night she had been shying away and trembling, that day, Laena was nearly as wicked as him.

His hands curled around her ankles, pushing to bring her down, to bring her closer. She simply giggled in response, breathing heavily.

Daemon slid his hands up her legs, to her inner thighs, enjoying the pitiful keening noise she made when his hands stopped too close to her core.

Bringing himself closer to her, he pressed his lips to her lower belly, kissing a line downwards, yet stopping once again before he could give her something.

"How bold of you, my Laena" 

She was dripping wet, his Laena. And, Gods, he needed to be inside of her. But he was not such a selfish man.

His tongue slid down the slit of her wet cunt, and she squirmed, a loud moan leaving her lips. A good man would resist the urge to just sink himself into her. A good man would carefully work her open. A good man would be gentle.

But Daemon was not a good man, and she knew that.

Quicker and rougher than he ought to, he thrust his cock into her delightful cunt. A groan left his lips at the warmth of her. He had fucked her ever so often in the last fortnight, yet she remained tight as a maiden.

Laena arched her back though a yelp did betray her surprise, and her nails digging furiously on his back indicated he had hurt her. He cared little in that moment, in truth, too lost in the feeling of her. The warmth of her body, as he pressed his chest against hers, the moans falling from her lips, her cunt hugging him so tightly he could spend himself in her like a green boy at any moment.

Her legs around his hips, his fingers digging into her flesh, the cacophony of noises coming from the both of them, coming from their bodies.

She was beautiful when she came, head thrown back against the pillow and skin shinning like she was truly a pearl. Daemon reached his peak shortly after. And even then, he did not separate their bodies, remaining joined and as close as possible. Making sure nothing spilled.

Making sure it worked.

Chapter Text

Rubies had always been her favourite precious stone. Ever since her beloved uncle gifted her a ruby tiara when she was seven name days of age. It had been too large for her head back then, but now it fitted perfectly well. And to go with said tiara, now she had the beautiful necklace. Something else to wear that would remind her of him.

The red stones held one of the colours of her mighty house, the colour Daemon wore most often. Because of that, it became her favourite colour when she was a little girl and remained the very same. 

Rhaenyra walked through the halls of the Red Keep with Alicent trailing after her, head held high to show off her necklace. The ladies of the court stared at her with the envy she was so very used to.

Envy any of her blood were used to, even those lacking certain valyrian traits still held the god-like beauty of their blood. Such as Princess Rhaenys, with her black hair, and her own mother, with her blue eyes. 

"Do you not think that" Alicent spoke from behind her, bidding her cease her walk "such generous gift from Prince Daemon could be misinterpreted?"

Rhaenyra frowned, turning to look at her dearest friend with a shush of her skirts.

"Whatever do you mean?"

"We are not little girls any more. Such gifts reflect that...the attention" Ali shook her head "They might believe you are his paramour"

The last word was a mere whisper, for young maidens oughtn't speak such words, and Alicent Hightower was the most proper of all the maidens in the Realm. Rhaenyra believed herself above such behaviours, but her cheeks did burn at the thought.

A paramour to her uncle. The last one had been a lyseni whore, Mysaria. She was dead now, buried in the sea with her child, so feeling envious of her was foolish. But back then, Rhaenyra had been jealous. Or as much as little girl could be jealous without fully understanding their relationship. She did now. But she could not be jealous of a whore. No. She would be jealous of the wife. 

Lady Rhea Royce, her grandaunt by marriage of her aunt Elys Arryn, her aunt by marriage to her beloved uncle Daemon. Lady of Runestone in her own right. But hideous as a sheep, according to Daemon, and with the temperament of a goat. He loathed her.

Yet, he loved Rhaenyra.

Just not the way I wish him to.

"That is silly, Ali" a smile spread through her face "He is wed" 

"And he has a paramour already" her friend had always been so bad at lying, at keeping secrets, so the words, unknown to Rhaenyra, left her lips. When Alicent realized, her cheeks shone red "I did not mean to say that" 

Rhaenyra felt as if her heart dropped from her chest and broke on the stone floor of the Red Keep. She blinked rapidly. Of course, she was no fool, she knew her uncle frequented whores of the Streets of Silk. But that was not the same thing as having a paramour. Having a paramour was different, serious, binding.

She could deal with her beloved uncle bedding all the whores in King's Landing while he waited for her to become a woman, but not this. Not a paramour. Not someone he might care about.

"Who?" she whispered. 

Alicent looked around —there was no one close to them, no one that could hear—, nails digging on the skin of her fingers. She was nervous. Anxious.

"Lady Laena" 

Laena Velaryon. The Pearl of Driftmark. Of course. How foolish of Rhaenyra to think anyone else could do. To think that her uncle might have just picked another lyseni whore to bed and breed. No, of course not. He had chosen the most beautiful woman of the Realm. The rider of Vhagar. A woman grown who had been to war with him. Who fought by his side. Who spent long hours with him in Driftmark and Dragonstone, while Rhaenyra was there. Confined to the Red Keep and forbidden from going off to war with Syrax, even that last year. 

Why? Why? Why?

Why did it have to be Laena Velaryon?

Why the woman made of brimstone and sea salt? Why the one bolder than Rhaenyra, and more beautiful? Why her cousin? Why not her?

Sharply, she turned to Alicent, fury roaring in her chest.

"How do you know?" she nearly growled, despite the tears threatening to fall from her eyes "How do you know, Alicent?" 

"I saw them" her friend bit the skin of her fingers, tearing, freeing the blood "Yesternight, in the shrine of Balerion... coupling" 

Then the tears did fall, whether of sadness or rage she could not tell. Mayhaps out of both.

Of course he is bedding her, despite not being wed to her. Daemon does what Daemon wishes to do. Without regard of my feelings, or anyone's feelings, but his own.

And yet, Rhaenyra loved him so ardently she could not imagine her life without him. She did not wish to imagine her life without him.

"Rhaenyra" Ali placed a bloodied hand on her shoulder, but her gown was red. Just in case "I am truly sorry" 

She wiped her tears with the back of her hands, face warm, but heart cold.

"Matters not. He will not wed her. He cannot" her voice broke a little.

He could not. 

But Alicent remained silent as a grave. Her opinion on the matter needn't be voiced.

Servants and courtiers began to wander around the halls, forcing Rhaenyra to stand upright and held her head high, as she had before. It was unbecoming of the Princess to cry.

"Do you wish to return to your apartments, rather than our lessons?" 

"Septa Marlowe would be cross"

"Septa Marlowe is always cross"

It was not like Alicent to suggest missing one of their lessons, so Rhaenyra smiled at her. She was a true friend. Those were rare.

"I wish to see my mother" 

Not a second after her announcement, Rhaenyra made her way to the Queen's Apartments. As a child, she had thought those would one day be hers, when her brother succeeded her father on the throne. But that brother never came. When she realized that, she thought she would wed her uncle, and mayhaps that would happen. Mayhaps her father would come to his senses and annul his marriage to the Lady Rhea Royce.

But what if he loves Laena?

He surely did, why else would he choose her to be his paramour? If he had loved the lyseni whore, he could surely love Laena.

"Rhaenyra!" her mother exclaimed upon seeing her, startling her. It had to be a things with mothers, for one look upon her face and Queen Aemma sent everyone out. The midwives, the maids and the ladies-in-waiting. Everyone, but her "Come here, my love. What has happened?" 

She was crying, her face felt aflame, and salt could be tasted on her lips.

Her mother opened her arms, bidding her to come to her embrace. Rhaenyra did, sitting on the bed nex to her, finding comfort in her flowery scent and her thin arms wrapping around her.

Rhaenyra sobbed into her chest.

"Oh, my love" her mother caressed her hair, brushing it away to try and look at her face "What has you in such state?" 

Rhaenyra did not wish to separate from her mother, but she did, just a little, just to look into her eyes.

"Daemon" her fists furiously rubbed her own eyes.

"What did your uncle do, sweetling?" 

She laid her head against the big embroidered cushions of her mother's bed. 

"He has a paramour. The Lady Laena" 

Saying the words only made it more real. Only made it hurt more.

Her mother inhaled sharply.

"Mayhaps he is in love" 

Rhaenyra's eyes widened with outrage.

"He is supposed to love me! Only me!" 

Her mother tilted her head.

"Sweetling, such things cannot be controlled. But Daemon loving Laena does not mean he no longer loves you"

"But he must love her too!"

"They are different loves" her mother caressed her face.

But I do not want them to be.

Rhaenyra wished for him to love her like he would a woman, not a niece. But her beloved uncle only saw her as a child.

"I want to wed him, mother" 

Queen Aemma looked at her daughter with a kind of pity the Princess did not like.

"He is already wed" 

There was no need to remind her. She knew the tale all too well. For ever since she was a child, Rhaenyra had voiced her desire to wed her uncle, and ever since she was a child she had been denied by those same words.

"But father can undo it! He can annul his marriage to Lady Rhea and wed him to me"

Do it in that very moment. Do it swiftly, so Rhaenyra could make him forget all about Laena Velaryon.

"You are nowhere near prepared for marriage" 

Her face grew red, as it always did when someone treated her like a child.

"I am nearly a woman grown! Septa Marlowe has already given us lessons about what occurs between a man and his wife. I am prepared!" 

"You are not" her mother disagreed, stern this time "Septa Marlowe does not know half of what really occurs between a man and his wife, she has never laid with a man. And your uncle is nothing like the men Septas prepare us for"

A frown decorated her face.

"Whatever do you mean?"

Yes, her uncle was not like any Andal man Septa Marlowe spoke of, but that was not what her mother meant. Rhaenyra could tell.

"He is an impulsive, violent man, you know him" her mother brushed a strand of silver-gold hair away from her face. Rhaenyra wanted to protest "Of course, not to us, we are his family. But men like him have certain...needs" 

Her frown deepened.

"I do not understand—"

"Exactly that, sweetling" her mother pat her head "you do not understand" 

And no one would explain it to her. No one ever did. Only her uncle, and she could hardly go to ask him. Not then and there, when she was sure that upon seeing him she might burst into tears.

Before she could ask more questions, her mother winced, a bejeweled hand going to her belly. Where the child was.

"Mother?" 

Queen Aemma had her eyes closed for a moment, but smiled upon opening them.

"It is fine. Your brother is simply very active" 

Rhaenyra knew her mother well enough to know she lied for her sake. Still, she did not comment on it.

"I wish for a sister" she said instead. 

As a child she had wanted a sister to braid her hair and fly alongside her. As a woman, she wanted a sister to be Queen. One way or another, she would wed Daemon and as long as no son was born to her parents, he would become King. With her by his side. Not Laena Velaryon.

"Maybe she will be a girl, who knows" but the thought was not as comforting to her mother as it was to her "Though I would not know what to name her" 

"I like Visenya"

Her mother hummed.

"Visenya, Alyssa, Daella, Alysanne. In truth, there are quite a lot of options"

Visenya because she wanted to honour the Conqueror Queen. Alyssa for her father's mother, Daella for her mother's mother and Alysanne for the Good Queen. All the names were so very carefully picked up, both by emotions and suitability. Popularity. It would most likely be Alysanne, if the babe was a girl. A living girl.

"I shall choose an egg for her cradle" 

Her mother smiled, laying her head back against the cushions. She was tired, the babe drained all her strength. Rhaenyra hoped she never had to go through that again, for it did nothing but hurt her. 

Chapter Text

In Driftmark, Laena always awoke to the sound of the waves crashing and the scent of the sea. With the servants of High Tide moving from one place to another, clothed in sea green with embroidered seahorses in the fabric. Their attires were richer than that of the servants of the Red Keep, intentional from her father's part, to show the wealth of House Velaryon. 

In the Red Keep, Laena awoke to the noise of the courtiers talking to each other, idle flattery permanent in their tones and words, made to placate each other. Made to disguise their hate for eachother. For they all wished for the same thing, to be in the King's good graces the same way Otto Hightower was. 

But that would hardly be possible, for few men were so given to licking the boots of their superiors the way Otto Hightower did. Her lady mother said so, the man would humiliate himself for the smallest amount of power, but that would not be necessary with such king as their ruler. 

Daemon would be better at it, Laena thought. He was bold, a fine warrior and did not lower himself the way his brother did. He was proud, but so was any King worthy of his crown.

And Daemon would be worthy of it, so long as Queen Aemma did not deliver a living son. Her mother and father did not believe she would, and all prayed for a healthy girl. Laena would prefer it too. She would rather like to be Queen. 

Hazel brushed her hair carefully, but she still hurt Laena. 

"Ouch" she complained, grabbing Hazel's wrist.

She had been married to Laena's cousin, Daeron, for about a year, but she had not truly learn to fit in her new House. Mayhaps she was too young, too terrified, after all she was not married to the heir, but to one of her father's grandnephews. Someone so far away from the Driftwood throne that they might as well be lost at sea.

Her cousin, Larissa, grabbed the hairbrush from Hazel's hands and skilfully combed Laena's curls. 

"Watch and learn, sister" Larissa hissed.

For some reason, Larissa did not get along with her new good sister. Mayhaps because she was rather irritant, what with having teary eyes all the time. But Vaemond was not kind to her, so Laena could hardly blame her. 

When her hair was done, she turned away from the vanity table and smiled at the girl, only a year younger than Laena herself.

"It is quite alright, you shall learn, Lady Hazel" 

Hazel gave her a shaky smile. 

Larissa scoffed, before frowning, as if suddenly something had crossed her mind. 

"When was the last time you bled, Laena? 'Tis rather odd of you to be missing your monthly courses" 

Laena stood up, a hand on her belly. It was true that it was odd for her miss her moon blood. Ever since she flowered it came the same day every moon turn. Yet, it had been nearly a fortnight since she ought to have bled. 

Am I with child?

It would not surprise her if she was, after all, Daemon had taken her at any possible time, and not once did she think of drinking moon tea to avoid a child. After all, was that not their aim? For her to fall with child and we'd Daemon? For Daemon to force the King's hand and finally get the annulment he so desired? For her. 

A small smile spread through her face.

If she was with child, Daemon would be most excited for it. He had wished for a child for years, and only once had he been close to have one. Close he had been, but the child died before drawing breath, with its mother, in a shipwreck. Because of the King. 

Laena could not begrudge him for loathing his brother after such action. She herself would hate Laenor if he dared take away the child that grew inside her. But Laenor would never do such a thing. Her brother was good. He wished only for playing and flying and sparring with his companions. 

"This land will hurt him" Daemon had told her "That is all they do to those who do not adhere to their soulless existences" 

Laena knew he spoke truth. Laenor did not conform. He would wish for no bride, but what Ser Joffrey could be. People already whispered of it, mockingly. Father wants not to hear it, but mother always listened. Mother knew. 

Idly, she wondered if this child of hers would not conform as well. Wondered what would that make of it. 

"'Tis not strange" she said, after realising how long she had been silent "I was awaiting this. But I shall wait a little while longer" 

Larissa said nothing, did nothing, but nodding. She understood, surely. Surely she knew.

Hazel, on the other hand.

"B-but you are yet to be wed, my lady" she managed to speak loud enough for Laena to hear, usually her voice was merely a whisper "You cannot possibly—" 

"Hold your tongue, Hazel" Larissa warned "You are no longer amongst Andals. Our ways are different" 

It was a loud secret, that women in Driftmark more oft than not lost their maidenhead to some sailor, and the ladies of House Velaryon were not different. Nor were the ladies of House Targaryen before the Conquest. Those of the dragonblood did as they pleased back then. Some still did. Laena was the odd one, for Daemon was the only man she had ever laid with. The only man she wished to lay with. Few could blame her for it.

"Do not speak of it, lady Hazel" Laena ordered kindly.

It was not that she thought Hazel a gossip, not at all, but it was simply too unwise to speak it out loud outside their apartments. Not that Hazel spoke much at all. 

Hazel lowered her head and bowed slightly. Perhaps frightened. She usually was.

"My lady" the lady murmured before stepping back. 

Laena touched her pearl necklace one time before leaving her bedchambers.

Their servants did not go from one place to another in the Red Keep, for that red fortress had its own keepers, but in the common room she could see five of them. Standing against the wall, the five of them, while the family sat at an empty table.

"Laena!" her mother exclaimed happily "You look radiant today" 

"Wonder why that is" Laenor smirked.

Laena pinched his arm when she sat by his side. Her brother winced, but said nothing about it.

Vaemond and his sons sat on the other end of the table, while her father was at the head and her lady mother at his right.

"Thank you, muña" 

"Will you see Daemon today?" her father asked as the servants placed trays with fruit and sausages on the table "I do not believe he is too occupied" 

"He is the Lord Commander of the City Watch" Laenor reminded "And has a place on the small council. I would say he has a rather preoccupied life" 

Laenor had squired for Daemon that last year in the Stepstones, following him everywhere, learning from him. He admired him, and maybe more, if Laena should dare.

"He always has time for me" she smiled.

Daemon was very attentive with her. They flew together, walked through the beach, he gave her gifts. It was a proper courtship, even if they had already laid together.

After breaking their fast together, as a family, each and every one of them went somewhere in the Red Keep. Most likely to converse with courtiers, or spar with the knights of the Kingsguard if the boys were feeling brave enough.

Her lady mother stayed in their apartments, however, Laena followed her to her bedchambers. The servants stayed, but the ladies-in-waiting they both had, left for the court. Even aunt Laella, who was not someone who liked to stray from her home and family, was gone. 

Her mother misliked King's Landing ever since she was passed over, unjustly robbed of her birthright.

"I have some news. I believe" she fidgeted with her pearl necklace. 

Her mother sat at a table, a book spread open on the table. Her lilac eyes rose to meet hers.

"What sort of news?" 

"I believe I could be with child" 

Her mother rose from her seat and came towards her. She was taller than Laena still, mayhaps she would always would be. A caress of her cheek and a soft smile told her her mother was happy with the news. 

"I shall talk to Aemma then, so that she might convince Viserys. We must try to be diplomatic before reminding him of what we have and he does not" 

Laena looked down.

"I do not wish for a war to be waged"

"Worry not, my cousin is feckless and weak, he will wage no war at all in his life time. No matter the threat. In this matter, he will simply give in"

Laena hoped so, for she did not wish for her son to be declared a bastard. No, her boy belonged on the throne, succeeding his father once the King realized that no boys would be born to him.

"What of Lady Rhea?"

There were so many things to be wary of, to worry about. So many things that could go wrong. Laena did not know how she did not think of them before.

Her mother held her hands carefully.

"Lady Rhea cares not for Daemon or their marriage" her mother assured "She will be overjoyed when the annulment is finally granted"

Laena hoped that much, but she did not know enough about the woman to tell. Daemon would not speak of her, so much he loathed her. A woman ten years his elder who he had been forced to wed at only six and ten. Whose marriage to her had driven him away from his home.

"That much I hope is true. I would not want her to call my child a bastard when Daemon becomes King and she realizes what she has lost" 

The opportunity to be Queen, to bear the next king and more dragon-children. The chance to be part of the greatest dynasty the Known World had ever seen. 

"I do not believe Rhea Royce, of all people, cares for the position" she squeezed her hands "But you, my Laena, will be a splendid queen"

As she would have been, that was not said, but Laena could hear it. And she agreed, her mother would have been a great Queen. Better even than Jaehaerys was as King. Much better than Viserys was. 

"I hope that much. If I even become Queen. It is still possible that Queen Aemma gives birth to a boy"

Her mother pursed her lip. 

"Possible? Yes, as most things are. Probable? No. Not at all. Aemma herself knows it. And time is passing, she gets weaker with each child she loses" a deep sigh escaped her "Viserys will keep pushing her, however, pushing her to her death, but I will not let it be"

Her mother had always been close to the Queen, ever since at one and ten, Queen Aemma had come to King's Landing for her wedding. Soon thereafter, her grandfather, Prince Aemon, had died in Tarth by an arrow and her mother had retreated to Driftmark. But they had kept correspondence, however, still did whenever one was away. 

Laena forced a smile, unsure of what to say next. Her mother would defend the Queen, that much was true. But how would the King react to that? How would her father? 

"That is kind of you, muña" 

"It is not kind, Laena, she is my family. In this world, we must protect our own"

But if they wrong you, turn your back on them.

Like she did the King. But, for that, no one could blame her. The King turned his own family against him, all to please others and keep a peace that did not exist. 

Daemon will be a better King.

Chapter Text

The people, the nobles, courtiers, whispered about her. None of the things they said could be considered kind. Aemma was not deaf to their disrespect —Aemma had never been—, but Viserys was. 

And because her husband was, she suffered them.

Daella's daughter, as dim-witted as her mother; some said, for she was, mostly, quiet.

The barren Queen; others whispered; The sonless, heirless Queen, who failed her duty.

And mayhaps she had, failed her duty, but she was not barren. Aemma had a child, a daughter, yes, but she had bore her. And she kept falling with child. Not barren, no. Daughters might be useless for anything other than marriage, but they were still children. They still had a mother. Aemma had still been to the battlefield that is the childbed to bring Rhaenyra into this world. 

I was only three and ten; the Queen lamented; and now, at eight and twenty I have yet to bring forth another living child.

And she might never do it. For, no matter how active the child she carried was, she doubted her ability to fulfil her duty. The babe within her kicked, gave her cravings, yet Aemma could not believe it would live. None of them did. Only Rhaenyra had. 

Aemma watched the sky through the window, as she only could now. The midwives and the maesters did not think it wise for her to go outside. She had to rest, at all times.

It was so very irritating, one would think that after fifteen years of being told to rest she would be more used to it, but she was getting more and more restless.

Her head turned when the doors of her bedchambers were opened. Viserys came in with a smile. 

"How is our Prince?" he asked, approaching and placed a hand on Aemma's swollen belly "And my Queen?" 

Aemma sighed, feeling his lips press against her cheek.

"Tired of being locked in here, I fear" she responded.

Viserys swatted his hand and the maids and midwives bowed and left the bedchamber. 

"Well, it shall all be worth it" with a big smile, he placed a chair beside the bed and sat on it "When in four moon turns our little Prince and heir comes into the world" 

Aemma hoped he would, and would be happy if she did, but the Queen doubted very much the child would live. There was a dark, rotten, crooked part of her that knew it would not. That was numb to the result. That only wished for being able to walk through the gardens with her only child, to be there for her instead of laying on a bed and missing everything in life. 

Seven forgive me.

"I hope you do know, that nothing will make the babe grow a cock if it does not already possess one. There is nothing I can do to make this child a boy" 

There is nothing I can do to make this child live.

"This child is a boy, Aemma" he insisted with a nod, but there was something in his eyes "It has to be" 

Has to be.

Has.

Aemma knew the need for an heir, but it was not as if it was only the two of them. After Viserys came Daemon, then Rhaenyra, Rhaenys and her children. And soon, Daemon would have a child with Laena, giving their House yet another heir. 

Laena was young and strong, having her first child at seven and ten would hardly give her any troubles to have more afterwards.

Yet, Viserys put all his hopes on the child Aemma held within her. He had done so, time and time again.

There would not be another time. She could not bear it.

"This will be the last time, Viserys" she dared to say, sadness in her tone "I would not go through this again"

Her husband held her hand in his and sighed.

"Aemma—" 

"No!" she would not let him manipulate her into sacrificing herself again. Not when it could mean her death. Not when it could mean leaving Rhaenyra alone "I will not do it again. I am sorry if I have disappointed you, but I-" her vision turned blurry, tears clouding her eyes "I have lost eight children in the last fifteen years. Eight children, Viserys. I lost Jaehaerys to the cradle, three girls were born dead and four bled out of me much time before their term. I. Cannot. Do it. Again" 

"Then, if this child is a girl or does not live, who will follow me on the throne? Daemon?"

He asked as if it was such a laughable idea, yet Aemma knew her dear brother would be much better King than her husband. Not that such thing would be too hard to achieve. Not that she would say it out loud.

"Would that be so terrible? Daemon following you on the throne? He is your brother" 

Aemma squeezed his hand.

"A brother is not a son. It would not be quite my legacy, but his"

Aemma closed her eyes, gathering all her courage.

"Not if... Not if he weds Rhaenyra" 

Viserys withdraw his hand, staring at her with wide eyes.

"Rhaenyra? Have you gone mad? Why would you want to condemn out daughter to such fate. You know how he treats your cousin, the Lady Rhea" 

"A woman ten years his elder that he was forced to marry when he was only six and ten. It will be different with Rhaenyra. She is everything Daemon has ever wished on a bride"

As Laena is.

"Rhaenyra will not wish for this"

Aemma raised her eyebrows, unable to believe her husband's words.

"You truly do not spend much time with our daughter, do you? Rhaenyra will not wed anyone but Daemon. She will not be happy being some lord's wife. Her joy is in her marriage to him. And that is all I wish for her, to have joy in her life. Annul Daemon's marriage to Lady Rhea, betroth him to Rhaenyra and in two years time they shall be wed" 

She shall be his second wife, for Laena will be there as well. But you do not yet need to know this.

Viserys exhaled quietly, mayhaps thinking of her words. Aemma dared to hope he would see reason. 

After a moment in silence, Viserys stood up and walked towards the door. Before opening it, he turned to look at her.

"This child will be a boy" and that was the only thing he said before leaving. 

Aemma closed her eyes, tears quietly falling down her cheeks.

A sharp pain coursed through her body, one she knew all-too well, and when Aemma opened her eyes and looked down, her pristine white shift was stained with fresh blood. 

She knew what was about to happen.

Chapter Text

The chambers smelled like blood, a scent he knew little of, but that made him nauseous all the same. The maids had cleaned everything, Aemma included, carefully rubbing wet pieces of cloth against her stained skin, but the scent persisted. 

Viserys stood behind the open doors, watching how his beloved Aemma was comforted by their own. Rhaenyra and Rhaenys laid the bed with her, while Daemon held her hand from the chair he was sitting on. The one he, himself had sat on mere moments before it occurred.

Before Aemma lost the boy, the heir, the Prince, they needed. That he needed.

"The babe" he asked Grand Maester Mellos, for Viserys needed to know "Was it a boy?" 

The Grand Maester was old, hunched and wrinkled, but he would not mistake a cock in a babe, not even in one so very small as this one.

"A girl, Your Grace" the old man said.

A girl; he did not speak the words for they would taste bitter; Aemma has always been so prone of giving me daughters.

Their Jaehaerys had not survived, nor had most of the girls she bore, but Rhaenyra lived. A girl lived. The only one who did.

Viserys sighed.

"When will she be able to bear a child again?"

Aemma had said she would never do it again, had told him to name Daemon, but surely she did not mean it. Surely it was merely the hysteria of such condition. 

Mellos lowered his gaze.

"I fear..."

"What?" he was growing impatient.

"The Queen has been rendered barren by these loss, Your Grace. She cannot bear another child"

No. It cannot— No, not this. Please, Gods.

Viserys blinked, assimilating the terrible news he just received. What they meant. If Aemma, his wife, his Queen, could not bear anymore children then Daemon...

He looked over to his brother, long silver mane gathered in a braid falling down his left shoulder, like those their mother used to wear, large hands holding Aemma's frail one. A dagger shone from his belt, for he was always armed. That was his heir now. His reckless younger brother. Mother's favourite child.

Daemon had always been the better warrior, the better scholar and dragonrider. Only once in his life had Viserys bested him, and that victory turned to ash immediately, after Balerion's death. Then he was named heir, for, as Otto said, he was more suited for the throne. That did not feel like a full victory, but it was something sweet to order him around, his fearless brother. Yet, now he was supposed to give him the throne as well? No. No.

There had to be another way.

"I shall tell the Queen" he rasped.

Grand Maester Mellos bowed, bones cracking as he moved.

Viserys ignored the man to walk forward. To walk to his wife.

"Aemma" he cleared his throat. Rhaenys and Rhaenyra sat up on the bed, still pressed against Aemma, to look at him "The Grand Maester said—" 

How was he supposed to deliver such news? And to deliver them to his frail wife, no less?

She said she did not wish to have more children. Surely, this will be a relief.

"Spit it out, Viserys" Daemon hissed, as if he could speak to his King in such way.

No, he would not have the throne. There had to be another way.

"According to the Grandmaester, Aemma" his wife stared at him with dead eyes. As if she had not wanted it to happen "he told me, this...tragedy has left you barren"

Aemma didn't even blink. Did not acknowledge him either, nor his words.

"Viserys!" it was his cousin's turn to hiss.

It was always such. They always banded together to scold him, to go against him. Ever since they were children. A part of Viserys wondered if they were meant to be pairs. If his youngest brother, that one who never was, would have been loyal to him, standing by his side. Rhaenys and Daemon were a pair since mother's death, so mayhaps that had been his fate. For Aegon and him to be another.

Alas it never came to be.

And Aemma, Aemma who was supposed to be his pair, was truly never such. She had always been closest to Rhaenys and Daemon.

Of course, they had grown to love each other, but she never quite relied on him the way she did Rhaenys and Daemon.

"I am merely repeating the Grand Maester's words, cousin" he responded bitterly.

Rhaenys stood, disheveled, yet regal either way, and walked towards him.

"Aemma is in no condition to hear of this" she spat, yet her tone was so quiet, Viserys was certain only he could hear it "Show some compassion for your wife, cousin" 

"I had thought she would be content with such news" he looked at her, but Aemma was not yet looking at him "She had expressed before her desire to not have more children"

"To not suffer more losses, you mean" Daemon chimed in, as he always did.

"You cannot fault her for that" Rhaenys retorted angrily.

Could he not? After all, he still did not have an heir.

He would have said those very words, were it not for Rhaenys staring at him as if she was Meleys herself and he a sheep. He wondered how Corlys dealt with her.

"Of course not" his response was merely a whisper "But I must infor the small council of these news. I am afraid it is a dire situation" 

"What is?" Daemon stood up, after all, he had a seat at the council. 

"The line of succession, brother" 

"'Tis not" Rhaenyra did not moved from Aemma's side as she spoke "Daemon is the heir. There is no dire situation, father"

Viserys sighed. Rhaenyra worshipped her uncle, it would be impossible to explain to her why the situation was dire.

"I shall call for a meeting of the council. There is much to discuss" 

He took one last look at Aemma before abandoning that room filled with people treating him as if he was guilty of some great crime.

The small council chambers were much more peaceful, and the men in there did not stare at him with such bold distate, except, of course, for his brother and Corlys Velaryon. Although the Lord of the Tides was far more subtle in it. 

"I have heard of the terrible news, Your Grace" Otto spoke, worried, as a good friend ought to "How is the Queen?" 

"'Tis of her I wish to speak of. No, I do not wish to, but I must" 

Viserys saw Daemon and Corlys exchange a glance.

"Is the Queen much too weaken by the tragic loss?" Lord Beesbury wondered "I shall pray for her"

"For this we shall need a miracle, I fear" the Grand Maester mumbled.

"Whatever do you mean, Grand Maester?" Lord Strong raised an eyebrow.

Viserys sighed.

"The Queen has been rendered barren by this loss" 

Silence reigned in the chamber for a few minutes, Viserys did not know how many, but they felt eternal.

It was Otto, who, thankfully, broke it. 

"That is a tragedy, indeed. The line of succession....so frail" 

"There is nothing frail about the line of succession" Corlys retorted "This has a quite simple solution. House Targaryen needs more heir, the only thing needed her is to annul Prince Daemon's marriage to Lady Rhea—"

"And have him wed your daughter instead, Lord Corlys?" Lyonel Strong scoffed "No one here is yet blind nor deaf. We all know about the Lady Laena and Prince Daemon" 

The affair between them was no secret to most. Although Viserys had only find out recently. Otto informed him of it, as he ought to.

"What about the Lady Laena and Prince Daemon?" Lord Beesbury blinked, looking from one man to another.

Not all of us, it seems.

The man was old, good at his duties, but not too bright.

"Nothing, Lyman, worry not" his brother smiled at the old man.

He had always had a soft spot for him, ever since they were younger, Lord Beesbury found himself very amused by Daemon's antics.

"What am I to do about this?" 

"Your Grace?" Septon Eustace tilted his head, confused.

"I need an heir, and now my Queen cannot provide me with one" if she ever could. 

Viserys ignored the way Daemon clenched his jaw.

"There are...and it pains me to say this" Otto inhaled "some options, Your Grace. The first one is...an annulment that puts an end to your marriage to Queen Aemma. After all, having no sons is reason for one and you are the King—" 

"Having no children is reason for an annulment" Lord Strong corrected "But Queen Aemma has a child, a girl, yes, but a child all the same"

An annulment. Could he do such thing to Aemma? He loved her, yes, but she could not give him what he do desperately needed.

"The Queen is a dutiful woman, an Arryn of the Vale and the daughter of a Targaryen Princess, an annulment would shame her! 'Tis a ridiculous suggestion" Lord Lyman scoffed. 

"She is a good woman, a good wife, she does not deserve such" Septon Eustace nodded. 

"Not to mention that the Arryns may rise up in arms to defend her honour" Lord Corlys traced the cup of wine with his fingers "And I would join them"

"As would I" Daemon agreed.

Of course they would.

"That is speaking of treason!" Otto exclaimed, outraged. 

He was his only true friend.

"No" Daemon took a sip of wine "Speaking of treason is what you are doing, Ser Otto, trying to have my brother shame Her Grace, the Queen, in any manner or form" 

"I am a servant of the Crown" Otto held his chin up "And I am doing just as I am bound to. I am serving the Crown. For the King has asked for options to gain a true heir"

"There are none" Lord Strong sighed, tired.

"Your Grace could take another wife, even without an annulment. 'Tis something your kin practices, after all"

"Absolutely not!" Septon Eustace shook his head with vigor "The Faith will never stand for such thing! It is against the will of the Gods! Unnatural! You ought to know better than that, as a member of House Hightower, Ser Otto"

"Oh, Otto only does what it is better for him, Septon" Daemon chuckled.

"I at least do not dishonor my lady wife in front of the whole of the court with a maiden—" 

"Do not speak of my daughter, Lord Hand"

"Enough!" slamming his hands on the table, Viserys shouted, silencing the men in the room "That is enough! I have come to you to solve this issue, that is greatly threatening the Crown and what you do is squabble like children"

Otto lowered his head.

"I apologize for my part, Your Grace"

He would, but no other proud lord would. Nor would the proud Prince.

"If there is no solution for this issue—" 

"There is one more I can think of, If I may..."

Viserys swatted his hand.

"Yes, speak"

"This will bring no shame to Queen Aemma, nor anger House Arryn" Otto waited for something, looking around the room "There is another viable heir. Your Grace's first-born child"

Rhaenyra? His daughter? A girl?

Viserys chuckled.

"Rhaenyra? My heir?"

Then, they laughed, and Viserys laughed with them at the mere notion of it. Rhaenyra was a girl, a proud and stubborn one, lovely and beloved, to be sure, but not suited to be the heir.

Not anymore than Daemon was.

She was no son, no heir, not capable of occupying the throne.

No, she would not be the heir. She could not be.

For, if she was, unsuitability aside, it would tell the Realm that Rhaenys was the rightful heir. That he was an usurper. That Jaehaerys himself was one.

But when the laughter died, Viserys realized there were no more options left.