Chapter 5: Marriage and Heir (94 AC)
The news of Princess Rhaenys Targaryen's pregnancy sent a ripple of shocked whispers through the Red Keep, quickly followed by a tide of hushed speculation. For many, it was an unexpected turn of events, given Prince Viserys's relatively young age. Yet, the swift and decisive manner in which Viserys presented the situation to King Jaehaerys left little room for scandal or lingering doubt. He had not sought permission; he had declared a blessed inevitability, framing the pregnancy as a divine affirmation of their shared destiny and a strengthening of the Targaryen bloodline.
King Jaehaerys, for all his traditional wisdom, was a pragmatist. He understood the optics. A pregnant Targaryen princess, especially one of Rhaenys's strong lineage and dragon-riding prowess, required an immediate and legitimate solution. Viserys's bold confidence, backed by his undeniable bond with Balerion, carried immense weight. To deny the marriage would be to invite whispers of bastardy and division, precisely what Jaehaerys had sought to prevent throughout his long reign. The King's concern for the stability of the dynasty outweighed any minor breaches of courtly etiquette.
Thus, with the King's swift dispensation, preparations for a royal wedding began with an unprecedented haste. The match, though born of an unexpected circumstance, was quickly championed by Viserys as a monumental union of two powerful Targaryen lines, ensuring the purest dragon blood for generations to come. This narrative, expertly crafted and relentlessly pushed by Viserys, began to shape public perception.
The wedding, held in the seventh month of 94 AC, was a spectacle befitting two dragon-riding Targaryens. The Grand Sept of Baelor, usually a place of solemn reverence, was transformed into a tableau of Targaryen splendor. Banners bearing the three-headed dragon sigil hung from every arch and pillar, their black and red fabric shimmering in the light of countless candles. The scent of incense mingled with fresh flowers, and the air thrummed with the anticipation of a truly historic event.
Nobles from across the Seven Kingdoms flocked to King's Landing, eager to witness the union of the Prince who tamed the Black Dread and the fierce Queen Who Never Was. The halls of the Red Keep buzzed with activity, feasts and tourneys preceding the main event. Viserys, now seventeen, moved through these gatherings with a quiet authority, a charming smile for every lord and lady, yet his eyes missed nothing. He observed alliances, noted rivalries, and subtly gathered intelligence, all while playing the role of the joyous bridegroom.
On the day of the wedding, Rhaenys, radiant and regal, walked down the aisle of the Grand Sept, escorted by her father, Prince Aemon. Her gown of white silk was embroidered with silver threads depicting soaring dragons, a testament to her heritage and her fiery spirit. Viserys waited at the altar, his silver hair gleaming, his bearing poised and confident. He met her gaze as she approached, a flicker of genuine admiration in his violet eyes. He wasn't just marrying a strategic asset; he was marrying a strong, intelligent woman who would be a true partner.
The ceremony was a blend of ancient Valyrian tradition and the customs of the Faith of the Seven, symbolizing the dual heritage of House Targaryen. The High Septon officiated, but it was the shared declaration of their Valyrian blood that resonated most powerfully. As they exchanged vows, promising to be "one flesh, one heart, one soul, now and forever," Viserys felt the weight of his gambit. This was it. The direct line of succession, secured.
Following the ceremony, a grand procession wound its way through the streets of King's Landing, cheered by thousands of smallfolk, culminating in a magnificent feast in the Great Hall of the Red Keep. The celebration lasted for days, a whirlwind of music, dancing, and endless courses of food. Balerion himself was a subtle, yet powerful, presence, his colossal shadow occasionally passing over the Red Keep, a silent reminder of the power backing the newly wedded couple.
Their marriage, though initially a strategic calculation for Marco, quickly settled into a dynamic partnership. Rhaenys, with her sharp intellect and independent spirit, found a true equal in Viserys. He respected her opinions, consulted her on matters of court, and encouraged her continued dragon-riding and martial training. He treated her as a queen, not merely a consort, fostering a deep mutual respect that gradually bloomed into genuine affection. He found himself genuinely enjoying her company, her quick wit, and her fiery passion. Marco De Luca, the ruthless capo, found a surprising solace and even a form of companionship in his new life.
Later that year, in the tenth moon of 94 AC, their son was born. A strong, healthy boy with a shock of silver hair and eyes that promised to be the deep, vibrant violet of his parents. They named him Aemon, after Rhaenys's father, a gesture that further solidified the unity of their branch of the family. The birth of Prince Aemon was met with joyous celebrations across the realm, seen as a clear sign of the dynasty's continued strength and prosperity. For Viserys, it was the final, unassailable link in his lineage, securing his claim and setting the stage for future generations.
With his personal life meticulously ordered, Viserys, now twenty-seven and a father, turned his attention to the subtle, long-term reforms he intended to implement across the realm. He couldn't introduce gunpowder or industrial machinery without raising immediate suspicion, but he could begin laying the groundwork for a more efficient, prosperous, and ultimately, more easily controlled kingdom.
His first major initiative, implemented quietly through the Master of Coin and various royal decrees, was the introduction of crop rotation. He had spent months studying the agricultural practices of Westeros, noting their inefficiency. Through carefully worded memos and strategic "suggestions" to his grandfather's council, he pushed for the widespread adoption of a three-field system: one field for winter crops (like wheat or rye), one for spring crops (like barley or oats), and one left fallow to recover. He also championed the use of legumes (peas, beans, lentils) in the fallow field, explaining their benefits in enriching the soil (though he, as Marco, knew it was nitrogen fixation, a concept alien to Westeros).
He presented these ideas not as revolutionary changes, but as "ancient Valyrian agricultural wisdom" or "lessons gleaned from the prosperity of the Free Cities." He funded pilot projects on Crown lands, showing demonstrable increases in yield. The maesters, ever curious, were intrigued by the increased productivity, and the smallfolk, seeing more food on their tables, were receptive. This seemingly minor change had a profound impact: it led to increased food production, reducing the risk of famine, supporting a larger population, and generating greater surpluses for trade and taxation.
Simultaneously, Viserys began to subtly but aggressively expand trade with Essos. He dispatched royal envoys, often accompanied by his own trusted agents (men he had carefully cultivated over the years, testing their loyalty and discretion), to the Free Cities and beyond. He leveraged the Crown's immense wealth to fund voyages to distant lands, seeking out new goods and markets. He understood the concept of mercantilism—that national wealth was best served by maximizing exports and minimizing imports—and he put this into practice, subtly steering royal trade policies.
He focused on establishing direct trade routes for luxury goods (spices, silks, rare woods) that would generate high profits for the Crown, bypassing many of the traditional merchant guilds where possible. He also encouraged the import of specialized crafts and knowledge, always with an eye towards what could be replicated or adapted within Westeros. He even experimented with rudimentary accounting methods, pushing the Master of Coin to adopt more detailed ledgers to track revenues and expenses with greater precision.
These initiatives were not overt power grabs, but quiet, continuous efforts to amass wealth and influence for the Crown. More food meant a healthier, more numerous populace, which could eventually translate into larger, more capable armies. Increased trade meant richer coffers, allowing Viserys to fund his future projects without burdensome taxation that might provoke the lords. He was building the economic backbone of his unassailable dynasty, brick by invisible brick.
The King, Jaehaerys, for his part, observed Viserys with a mixture of pride and a growing sense of awe. He saw his grandson not just as a competent heir, but as a visionary, a young man who possessed a unique blend of traditional Targaryen power and an uncanny knack for innovation. He attributed Viserys's insights to his deep studies and his bond with Balerion, accepting the narrative that this was simply the next stage of Targaryen greatness. He knew the realm was secure under his grandson's eventual rule, perhaps more secure than it had ever been.
Viserys, meanwhile, continued to refine his plans. The marriage was secure, the heir born. The economic foundations were being laid. His attention would soon turn to the political landscape, to gently, but irrevocably, shifting the balance of power from the great houses to the Iron Throne. The realm was being quietly reshaped, prepared for the transformative reign of a king unlike any it had ever seen.