Chapter 24: Unvarnished
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As I sat beside the fireplace cradling my one name day old daughter, I knew I'd finally found my equal. The world bent to my will, and so will it to hers, for never have I ever seen a more perfect babe. What I have accomplished through force of arms and magic shall cast itself at her feet begging for the chance to kiss them. Spines of steel shall eagerly twist themselves around her fingers. The fullness of my rapaciousness and destructiveness shall only ever be matched by her conceit and whim. She is all her mother ever thought herself to be, and far more. It would be kinder to the world for me to dash the girl upon the stones, but I shall not. Not for her preciousness do I spare her, but for the trial of my will. Am I truly he who says 'No' or am I merely he who was never truly tested.
The world shall find out, and woe to it should I fail for my sister and I have brought forth a calamity from our adulterous union. Rhaenyra sat on the couch next to me, ready to fuss over the babe at the first sign of distress, but none came. I've held more babes in my lives than any man, or perhaps it is the insidious magic in me that brings the girl in my arms such joy with such ease, her eyes like faceted flowering amethyst alight brighter than illumination of flame. Her hand gripped just half a fingertip as she gazed upon me in wonder and love.
My sister looked lean and haggard, having spent the last year and a half in such a frenzy getting her affairs in order and her holdings realigned. The specter of her efforts hung over her heavily, even here in our father's house, in which her husband spent no small amount of time and effort to reestablish her cause when not quietly campaigning with her for support of the Lords of Westeros. Though they spoke no words against me publicly, I knew that the calamity I fathered failed to achieve her purpose. The tiny Visenya did not lull my sister deeper into her political slumber.
She knows. The conflict comes. She knows it. I know it.
"We make such beauty." she whispered as she leaned against me with her gaze fixed on the girl.
"Aye." I agreed softly, "Like the world has never seen before."
One weak link in the chain breaks the dynasty, but against such a face all links weaken, iron turns to lead and blood pours out like the seas as men fall on each other's swords acting unwise.
"I should have married you." she admitted quietly.
"There is no reason for regret." I corrected her, "It would simply change the form of our status, not its nature."
She leaned away, eyes wide as if to see the texture of my words unvarnished.
She knows. I know, and I admit that we know.
She could simply pretend that she does not understand my statement, but I see something break in her, something fractured under the load of a burden placed poorly by our father. She fought back sobs, but her eyes moistened and leaked, the evidence of which she fiercely wiped away in a simple denial of her nature.
"Is my coming rule so loathsome to you, Aegon?" she demanded, quietly, but sharply.
"Yes." I answered.
She fought valiantly not to weep, but the truth is the most bitter cup to drink from.
"Why?" she whined softly, "... Can't you see-"
"Even if I knew for fact that you are the finest ruler this House will ever produce, I would preclude you from the throne." I cut her off, "It's not about you, Rhaenyra. It never has been. It is about women."
From the look on her face, she'd never heard those words put in that order before. Perhaps I am the first to make the argument in this spot ever.
"Society does not need your kind beyond the household. Every person in the world needs a mother, no one needs a Queen. Your kind is not needed, you are not wanted, and each of you that takes up any role besides mother makes the whole world a worse place." I informed her while holding our daughter, the little girl completely accepting my words with a face that implied she'd never heard words this good before.
Rhaenyra made a face that looked like I was trying to skin change into her, and I wondered for the first time today if I gave the woman too much respect. Surely she is intelligent enough to understand the at best superfluous role women play in public society, yet somehow it perplexes her as if it is the antithesis of her axiomatic understanding of the world. Seeing her face, I just gave up. You can lead a horse to water, but it's still a woman.
"Then there is no need for Kings." Rhaenyra added another non-sequitur as if she read my mind.
I retrieved my finger from our daughter so I could properly pinch the bridge of my nose and sigh, "Wrong."
After a brief pause I continued, "Men need Kings. They need a man who embodies the extreme of all things, and inspires them. The King lives in the hearts of his men, and his leadership gives them the inner strength to face the harsh reality of the world undaunted. A woman cannot take a King's place in a man's heart no matter how hard both sides try to pretend. When the trials and tribulations come, and a man must ask, 'What would the Queen do if she were here facing this?' the truth will shatter the lies."
And thus we sat there debating the multifarious forms of human governance till the wine ran out, the babe passed out, and duration of our privacy long outlasted respectability for two married folk. We departed back to the feasting and games, and that was the last time my sister and I spoke openly to one another, and the first. Nothing changed before of after, we both continued on our path, but now unburdened by false kinship.
She knew, I knew, and we'd both admitted it.
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This conversation is more a snippet out of the last chapter that didn't fit the setting and time, and it certainly doesn't fit the next chapter. Originally, I had it coming later in the story, but ultimately didn't like the tone for that period. By having it now with both parties having their strategies locked in, approaching the heights of their power, the tone doesn't become something derisive told to a defeated rival. Aegon isn't roasting Rhaenyra for her delusions.
Placing it was hard, as I've no desire to write more Game of Thrones feasting, nor tourneys, and those are the only times the characters meet outside of the coming resolution of their rivalry. Thus I just said fuck it and wrote the scene denude of garnish, some might say... unvarnished.
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