Capítulo 11: Chapter 11-Secrets Untold!
Chapter 11
VISERYS TARGARYEN
Dragons were the symbol of the true might of House Targaryen, a weapon of great destruction that allowed the Freehold to rule the world before the Doom eradicated them. These very beasts allowed Aegon to unite the Seven Kingdoms as one, and so, as a monarch, it was his duty to protect and keep this power close to the throne.
Until a few years ago only House Targaryen had held this honor, but then House Velaryon got it as well, as the Old King married Princess Rhaenys Targaryen with Lord Corlys Vealryon, bringing the Vealryon who had grown richer and powerful beyond any House, to their side.
And yet this had come at a steep cost, the cost of Dragonriders, and now House Velaryon boasted dragonriders of their own.
And now, the realm had gained another Dragon rider. One that, though bore the name Targaryen, was anything but, and this was dangerous.
"You need to calm down," Aemma said as he paced back and forth in his solar.
"How can I calm down," he said, turning towards her.
"Another House has gained a dragon on my watch, especially at such a crucial time. The Velaryons and the Targaryens have shared blood for a long time, but when our grandsire had Rhaenys wed Corlys, it was the first time our House had shared our dragons. And now another House has gained one; soon enough, the realm will begin pouncing at us just so they could command a dragon for themselves," he told her, and she shook her head.
"Aegon is as much of a different House as me. He bears the name Targaryen and is the son of a Prince. All this is troublesome indeed, but there are solutions to this mess, political solutions," she said as she beckoned him to sit down, and even at such times, her calmness often surprised him.
Aemma was born with a level head and would rarely ever panic.
"You heard both Aegon and Rhaenyra, Aegon himself did not seek Silverwing, they bonded while it broke free of its chains. Rhaenyra was clear that if he had not stepped in, Silverwing would have killed Alicent, the daughter of your hand," Aemma pointed out, and he already knew of this.
As soon as he had seen the dragon of the Good Queen taking to the skies, he had called the head of the Dragon keepers to the court and asked him for an explanation, and the story had been same all around.
Silverwing, one of the more docile and calm dragons, had broken free of its chains and had rushed out into the center of the pit where Rhaenyra, Aegon, and Alicent stood; the beast rushed at them and would have killed Lady Alicent had Aegon not stepped in to calm the silver dragon.
On the surface, it seemed like a disaster had been averted, and in some ways, it was that. But in some ways, this was another disaster in itself.
"If the Crown tries to punish Aegon for his actions it will seem petty and win us no favors," Aemma pointed out.
"I know that, and separating the boy from his dragon is also impossible. We truly are at an impasse," he said as he rubbed his forehead.
"It need not be this way," Aemma added, and he turned towards her.
"What are you suggesting?" he asked.
"Both Aegon and Rhaenyra are unwed. Perhaps we could reexplore a match between them," she suggested, and he was quiet for a moment. There was a time late in her life when the Good Queen had suggested a similar match, yet Runestone had refused it outright, and given the bad blood between the two Houses, Queen Alyssane had not pushed further.
It could be done, of course.
"Yet this would give House Royce even more legitimacy. I shall be essentially awarding their House for an overture," he pointed out.
"Perhaps, but let us not announce our intentions openly. We wait, let things develop, providing a helping hand where necessary and announce it at a later date at an opportune time. This would add their might to our own allowing us to counter House Velaryon," she added, and it would solve one of his political worries.
With their wealth, ships, dragons, and linage, House Velaryon grew stronger by the day, thinking themselves equal to the Crown, and a consolidation of the Crown's power through this marriage could help them curb House Velaryon's influence.
"But Aegon's mother will never agree to a match such as this," he pointed out. Her animosity towards the Royal House was known to all. She had denied this match then, and who was to say that she would change her mind now?
"Indeed, as Aegon's mother, she holds considerable power over him, but you forget one thing," Aemma slowly walked up to him and settled down beside him.
"Even then, she was of the opinion that she would not force Aegon into a betrothal without his opinion. Rhaenyra and Aegon have been writing to each other for years, and perhaps a match could be made through mutual understanding," she pointed out.
"This is all a big mess," he said, and she placed her hand on his shoulder.
"I know, but it will all work out in the end."
"Let us hope so."
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ALICENT HIGHTOWER
Alicent's heart raced even now an hour or so past her nearly deadly interaction with a dragon. There was a reason, she was nervous around the majestic beasts and her fears were proven right today as she was nearly crushed underneath the feet of Silverwing.
She had resigned herself to her fate when the shadow of that feet had come over her, resigned herself to a gruesome but hopefully quick death, yet the pain she had expected had never come as she those ominous words halted the dragon, calming it down.
Aegon had pushed himself infront of her to try and calm down Silverwing and had bonded with it, and she believed that she was the only person who had heard what he had truly whispered to the beast before it had forced him on its back and taken to the skies.
Immediately after, she and Rhaenyra were escorted back to the castle, where the King interrogated them about what had transpired in the Drgaon pit. They all told the truth, even her, yet she did not mention the words she had heard Aegon whisper to the beast, her own little way of paying back the debt she owed the Prince.
The King was tense, and so was the Council, especially her father, who had taken her to his own solar as soon as the conversation with the King had come to a close.
"Was what you told the King the whole truth?" he asked again as he looked at her with those beady eyes of his, and she bit her lip. Her father was not the Hand of the King for no reason. It was hard to lie to him, not that she had done that much in her life.
"Yes," yet she would do it again today as she looked him right in the eye.
"Did the Prince encourage the Princess to take him to the Dragonpit?" he asked again.
"No, it was Rhaenyra's proposal. Aegon had no part in it," she told him, and she knew the reason for his anger and frustration. Yet, in that frustration and desperation, he had forgotten to even ask of her own well-being, ask whether she was fine or not.
"This is a mess. A big mess," he said as he settled down in his seat shaking his head.
"Already, the Velaryons having dragons was a major cause of headache for the Crown, yet now Daemon's brood has a dragon of his own. The Crown can hardly punish the boy or take the beast away from him, yet they have strengthened Daemon's hand with this," he lashed out, and she had expected this. Expected the man and the Hand Otto Hightower to win over the father, yet it still made her feel alone once again.
Alone and afraid.
Yet, one could hardly choose their fathers.
"But the relationship between Prince Aegon and Prince Daemon is tumultuous. Rhaenyra herself apologized for Prince Daemon's actions from last night," she added, and her father shook his head.
"Blood runs thicker, and Daemon is no simple man either. He has been preying upon his brother's laurels and indulgences for years, and Aegon is but a young boy. Soon enough, Daemon will sink his teeth into the boy, and we all will be worse for it. With two dragons and a seat on the council, he will be more of a menace than he already is," he said, frustration and anger lacing his tone, yet she was unconvinced.
She did not think that Aegon would be as easy to control as her father thought. He was firmer and more mature than they believed him to be.
Yet she did not voice it out for she knew that it would have been futile, that no matter what she may say, her father would always see Aegon as nothing more than an extension of the father whose blood ran through his veins.
And in his hatred for the Rogue Prince, and being Hand he had forgotten that she had nearly died, that she was all alone and afraid. She was more than a simple pawn in the grand political schemes of court, that she was a daughter, his daughter.
The heaviness, the fear, and the solitary nature of her stature weighed her down, exhausting her that she pushed herself up from the chair.
"I am feeling tired, father. May I be excused?" she asked, and the recognition she had sought initially appeared in those eyes, yet it was too late.
"You may go and rest. I have kept you here for too long," he said. With a small nod, she walked out of the room. As she was about to close the door, she heard him call out.
"I am relieved that you are fine," and her fists balled up as she heard that from him, heard that at the end.
"When I heard what had happened, I prayed to the Seven more desperately than I ever had, and they answered," he added and she bit her lip, her heart a mess as she nodded and walked out the door with unsteady steps, leaving behind only a whisper.
"Thank you, father."
.
.
.
Hours had passed, and now the Sun had set, and despite the exhaustion and tiredness, a spectre of fear hung over her even as she lay in her own bed. The shadow of Silverwing's enormous foot still haunted her, and so after much tossing and turning, she decided to get back up and summoned her servant by ringing the bell beside her bed.
A few seconds later, the ever-loyal Anna stepped into the room.
"You called for me, my lady," the servant asked, and she nodded.
"Yes, I did. Prepare a simple dress for me. I wish to go to the Sept," and the girl hesitated for a second yet nodded nonetheless.
"As you say, my lady," and soon enough, she was out of her sleeping gown and fitted into a rather simple dress as she began to walk through the very path she had taken that morning. By now, much of the castle had fallen asleep, for it was very late.
She walked into the Sept, surrounded by two guards, and found it as empty as in the early morning. Pushing open the doors, she found herself face to face with a very familiar face.
Her heart skipped a beat as she stared at that face, so similar to the face that had accompanied her in her prayer in the morning, yet so different as well. For while Aegon brought a sense of relief and calmness to her heart, this one screamed danger, despite being so similar.
"Prince Daemon," she greeted the Prince as she gave him a small bow. The prince's face was flushed as he looked her up and down with his unsettling eyes, and her mind raced as she tried to make sense of what the Prince was doing in the sept for Prince Daemon was many things, but religious he was not.
Yet he did not return her greeting and glanced back into the Sept, and she followed his gaze and found the most probable object of his anger, for there stood Prince Aegon.
"So, that bastard has sunk his own teeth into you through you," he added scornfully as he turned towards her. There was a promise of violence in that tone, and for a second, she thought herself on death's door once more as the Prince stepped closer to him, yet he stopped inches from her face as she looked down and her heart hammered in her chest.
"Disappointing," Prince Daemon scoffed and walked away from her, giving her a disdained last look.
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DAEMON TARGARYEN
Daemon walked into the Sept, filled with both a sense of joy and anger at what had transpired within the last few hours. She had been with Mysaria when they had been interrupted by the massive roar of a dragon, and he looked out the window only to find the fabled Silverwing in the skies over Kingslanding with a rider strapped to its back.
And immediately he knew just who that was, it was his son, his own flesh and he was surprised by that just as he was when he had inquired about his whereabouts after returning to the castle.
And so here he was, after a rather subdued lecture by Viserys in the Sept alone with his own brood who sat there all alone, closing eyes.
"That is no way of celebrating this occasion," he scoffed as he walked up to him and stood infront of him, looking him in the eye and still seeing those grey eyes, eyes that the boy had inherited from his mother always unsettled him, specially for they held in them the same disdain she did.
"You should be out there, drinking wine, drowned in a sea of women, yet you sit here like a damned Septon worshipping false Gods," he challenged, and the boy's gaze narrowed.
"It is of no concern to you how I celebrate or to which Gods I pray," he replied, his tone cold. Daemon thought that coming here was a mistake.
"Just as you make me proud with your cunning and bravery, you disappoint me with the next," he said as he shook her head.
"I heard that you saved that bastard's daughter. Why? The dragon would have been yours. Nonetheless, you should have let it destroy her," he said, lamenting that that cunt's daughter had survived; she was a fine girl.
"I should have expected nothing less of you. You truly are a heartless bastard," the boy scoffed, and Daemon's head snapped towards him.
"Watch your tongue, boy!" he said, reaching for his blade.
"I recall giving you the same advice," the boy did not back off, and Daemon was both surprised and enraged by that courage.
"You should be thanking me for what you have, yet you stand there defying me and our House, prostrating yourself before false Gods. It was my blood. Mine that even allowed you to bind to that dragon, and yet you stand there and dishonor me. Me, your own father!" Daemon roared, and the boy laughed, enraging him further.
"You are no father of mine. You said so yourself. And you have no claim to my own achievements. I tamed that dragon, and I did so with no contribution from you," he said as he stepped closer.
"Let me make it clear. I am not your plaything or your pawn in your schemes against the Hand," he challenged as they stood face to face, and being so close, it felt that he was staring into a mirror, into his own younger self.
"I see through you. See you for what you are, and I want no part of it," and Daemon's lips thinned as his fist opened and closed on the hilt of his blade.
"Come on, strike me if you want. I would dare not call it kin slaying," the boy challenged and flushed in rage; he clicked his tongue before backing off.
"You truly are a disgrace," and then he began to walk away, filled with rage. And as he was about to open the doors they moved even before he could do so, as he found himself face to face with a very striking individual.
"Prince Daemon."
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