Alicent had seen the babe and knew instantly that Rhaenyra had birthed a bastard. It was a violation of her sacred duty as a wife. Yet there she went, not caring one whit for proper decent behavior. What was worse, is that all seemed to go along with the lie. Someone even said that the shape of his eyes looked like Laenor's! Absurd on all counts.
After seeing Rhaenyra's spawn, she knew she had to confront Viserys. This was too much even for Rhaenyra. There had to be a line somewhere on proper behavior for a princess.
She found Viserys working on his diorama. He looked happy and for a moment she felt a pang of doubt. If he refused to see what was before him, he would be wroth. And yet, if he did see what was plain, he would be heartbroken. She soldiered on and approached her husband.
"Viserys, we must speak."
"What is it, my love?"
"What do you intend to do about the man who defiled your daughter? Will he take the Black or will he be executed?"
Viserys looked physically taken aback as he recoiled from his close viewing of Old Valyria.
"Defiled!? How? What do you mean? Has someone touched Helaena?"
"No, she's safe. I speak of Ser Harwin Strong. It is clear to all, that he lay with Rhaenyra and that Jacaerys is his, not Laenor's.
Viserys stalked forward around the table to confront her.
"What madness are you speaking? Ser Harwin is her sworn protector and an honorable knight; he would never do such a thing. Nor would my daughter stay silent over something like this."
"Viserys! You have seen the product of their illicit union. The entire court is talking about it. The hair, the coloring, the size, it is Harwin's. Even the timing… Rhaenyra claimed she was pregnant after me and yet I am still weeks away. Laenor was on –"
"ENOUGH!"
Alicent's mouth clicked shut.
"You accuse my daughter and one of the finest knights of the realm of vileness beyond words. Have you evidence? Do you know of every time they lay with each other? Is this another attempt at addressing the succession? I have had enough of this Alicent, do you hear me? Enough!"
Alicent felt afraid, Viserys was furious.
"It won't just be me, the servants, maids, guards, and nobles will all talk of it. How could they not?"
Viserys grabbed her by the shoulders. "I said enough! You will not speak of this again. Do you wish for me to set you aside? I have honored you as my queen, but know this, I will always love and hold Rhaenyra and Elaena above you. They are the lasting and last gifts my Aemma gave me."
Alicent gave a cry and a sob and turned away. She had known, had always known, but to hear him say it tore at her heart. She made it to the stairs when Viserys called to her.
"Wait, Alicent, that was not honorable of me. I care for you; I just want us to be a unified family."
Alicent paused as her body wracked with sobs. Why was this so hard for her? Viserys was a duty, he was not a man she dreamt of. Why was his disregard so utterly devastating.
She turned toward Viserys. "May I go, Your Grace."
He sighed and then Alicent felt pain grip her.
"Viserys… the babe."
The King's face was etched in horror and guilt.
"Summon the Maester! Guards, servants! Anyone, fetch him swiftly."
Alicent felt sick. Was their argument the cause of her premature labor? Was her babe about to die, because she could not let Rhaenyra's deceit go? She prayed to the Seven that it was not so. Her father would be furious and blame her. Would the King dismiss her after all? Worry, pain, grief and outright terror tightened around her like a vice.
It was a blur. Dimly she knew at one point she was carried and taken to another room. Pain filled her and she begged the Maester to save her child. It wasn't the babe's fault. Her mind clung to that, even as she realized the child she had not wanted to have, was suddenly of utmost importance.
There was nothing for it, the baby was coming; it was early and that meant survival was unlikely. Alicent saw her daughter of the heart enter the birthing room. Her comforting touch immediately dispelled some of the agony and anxiety she was in.
She pushed when the Maester instructed, she pushed, and she prayed.
***
Viserys was angry at Alicent, at himself, and at the lickspittles and backbiters who plagued his rule. The only reason he was not having the confessors drag his entire court to the question, consequences be damned, is that Mellos had informed him that his son, Daeron had survived his premature birth, as had Alicent.
He was wrong to shame his wife so thoroughly, the stress of the argument had almost led to disastrous consequences. Guilt gnawed at him. Alicent should not have kept pressing, but she had been with child, and all knew that clouded the mind. It made expectant mothers feel more fiercely, he had no such excuse.
The Maesters told him the babe had come out blue and nearly had not started to breathe on its own. When it did, it was shallow. They could do little but hope and Alicent was weak from the delivery, barely conscious; she had no strength even to hold little Daeron. When Viserys had entered, Alicent lay asleep but breathing, and Elaena was cradling the child. Viserys had never seen Elaena so worn. It was as if she hadn't slept for a week and her body was trembling. He almost feared she would drop the tiny bundle. The poor girl was always so worried when Alicent or Rhaenyra was in the birthing bed. It shamed him that he himself could not stay in the room for very long, memories of what happened to Aemma were too fierce when his wife or daughter lay in the same position.
He had taken little Daeron from her. The Maester returned with a wetnurse and the fragile thing had immediately latched on. Mellos was surprised and had muttered something about the unexpected hardiness of the Targaryen blood. The Grand Maester was beginning to develop a reputation for pessimism. He had told Elaena to get some rest and that they would tell her if anything happened to her mother or brother. Her voice had warbled a bit, but she went.
"There will be no more of this," Viserys told his small council. "There will be no more slanders and putrid rumors about my family. There will be two edicts passed. The first, any who claim that my daughter's children are baseborn will have their tongues removed. Secondly, due to the vicious barbs against my heir, I will also have an egg placed in Jacaerys's cradle. Its hatching will be proof that his blood is true Targaryen."
Sensing his mood, there was little pushback.
"A wise decision," Grand Maester Mellos intoned.
"Good." Lyonel spoke firmly.
"I will carry out your will, Your Grace; slander and insinuations against the crown should always be punished." Jaspar Wylde, his Mater of Laws seemed to almost look forward to having someone to question over it.
Only Ser Tyland seemed unsure, as he looked about the table in bewilderment.
"Your Grace… I don't quite understand the second edict. Regardless of the father," he paused and put his hands up in a placating gesture when he saw the King's glare, "ah, never mind, Your Grace, just an idle thought."
Viserys looked at him for several more uncomfortable, nerve-racking moments, before turning away.
"Since there are no further objections, Lord Strong, have the announcement made and have the Dragonkeepers select an egg for Jacaerys."
"At once, Your Grace."
Viserys stalked out of the room. Guilt still weighed heavily on him, and he went to go see Alicent. It had been nearly two days and only now did he trust himself to approach her. He found her reclining on bed with the tiny babe in her arms.
"How is he?"
Alicent looked up at him, her hazel eyes watery when their gazes met. She lowered them slowly and replied, "The Grand Maester Mellos has said we are very fortunate. When Daeron came out, he was sure there was no hope. But he is a fighter, he will live."
Viserys tentatively moved closer. He reached out and touched Alicent.
"I am sorry. I was too forceful in your delicate condition. I was angry and spoke with a harshness that you do not deserve. Alicent, my love, make no mistake, I will never set aside Rhaenyra. Do not ask it of me again, and do not bring these slanders to me."
Alicent nodded shallowly and focused her attention on Daeron.
The King let out a sigh and stood up. His wife would need time to forgive him. He could buy her some jewels, she seemed fond of the color green lately.
Some emeralds maybe? I could also let her name the new flagship of the Royal Fleet.
He would think of something, and she would come around. Soon the words and acrimonious argument would be a distant memory.
***
After the birth of Daeron, Alicent returned to her concerns with Jacaerys. He was obviously a bastard. Viserys passing laws and commands to mutilate people who saw the truth and spoke it plainly was a dark day for Westeros. Placing an egg in the bastard's cradle was a gamble, and Alicent had eagerly instructed the allies she had to predict that the dragon egg would not hatch.
Much to her disappointment it had. Meanwhile, Viserys was contrite and sought to buy her favor with gifts, as if a threat to her children could be ignored in favor of shiny baubles. She accepted them, and feigned forgiveness, but she would never forget those hateful words. Despite her vast frustration with him, Alicent still did not wish him ill. His heart had been given to another long before she came to court, and how could one compete with the dead? Being openly resentful to him over it would not secure Aegon's future. That was what truly mattered, and so she played the forgiving and dutiful wife.
As she thought that, her oldest son chose to make an appearance. He had a serious look on his face, or as serious as a five-year-old can get, as he approached.
"Hello, mother. I have a request."
Ah, what a change a year or two can make.
In the past Aegon would just scream his demands. This was far better.
"I want a dragon. If baby Jace gets one, I want one too."
Alicent shook her head. He was far too young to go the Dragonpit and claim a dragon. She could talk to Viserys about getting an egg for him, but from what she understood, non-cradle hatchlings did not always bond with the person near them. Moreover, if it failed to hatch… the implications of Jacaerys having his egg hatch, but her son's not being able to would not be good.
"When you are older, Aegon."
He took a breath and even though he had not had a meltdown in months she braced herself.
"I should have a dragon. Here is my rash… rasha.. rashin… uh, here is, I mean, here are my reasons."
He held up one chubby finger. "One, I am older than Jace and he has a dragon."
He put up a second finger. "Two, I am bigger than Elaena, and she has a dragon."
He put up a third finger. "Three, I am a Targaryen, we ride dragons."
He put up a fourth finger, and his face scrunched up, but then he put the last finger back down.
"Those are my reasons."
Alicent smiled, that was adorable. Him attempting to mimic the way his big sister spoke was endearing.
"Come here Aegon," she said and he walked toward her. She hugged him.
"You will have a dragon, just not yet. When you are older you can pick a dragon already hatched to bond with. You can pick your dragon. Jacaerys was stuck with whatever hatched from the egg. You'll have a bigger, and stronger one. Your dragon will let you fly higher and further than his."
Aegon gave her a tentative smile. "Promise?"
"Yes, my little prince. You are the King's eldest son. You deserve nothing but the best."
"I accept your reasons-ing. Thank you for your time!"
And with that he ran off out the door. Alicent couldn't help but laugh, were all her children going to talk like Elaena? She supposed Helaena wouldn't. Her only daughter by blood was dear to her, but she was different, and Alicent wished to protect her from all the world's evil.
She had recovered in the weeks since the birth and was restless to begin shedding the weight gained from the pregnancy. Her father had said it would be her duty as the Queen to limit the time she was not fully presentable after giving birth to a child. As she left her room, Ser Criston walked by her side.
"Are you feeling better, my Queen?"
"Yes, I am ser, thank you for inquiring. What is the news from court?"
"The hatching of the dragon egg was unfortunate. It is difficult to say who truly believes Rhaenyra's offspring is Laenor's and who is cowed by the King's proclamation. Regardless of their legitimacy, or obviously lack of, the eldest son of the King should inherit. All of your 'greens' are in agreement to that, and a dragon egg hatching will not undo their view"
Alicent nodded, that was good.
They walked in silence for some time, and then saw Rhaenyra walking with Ser Harwin.
How bold she is, talking and laughing with him! That is not a relationship between guard and princess!
Ser Harwin pointed Alicent out and Rhaenyra instantly frowned. As they approached Alicent felt a now familiar anger grow within her. The selfish heir to the throne followed her passions regardless of who it harmed.
"Good morning, Alicent, I am happy both of our early births proved to cause no lasting harm."
As if she gave birth early!
Alicent responded with a brittle smile. "Yes, that was fortunate. I have been remiss. Let me congratulate you both."
Ser Harwin frowned.
"Both?" Rhaenyra asked with an arched eyebrow.
"Oh! Forgive me, Ser Harwin and Laenor look so much alike, I oft get them confused."
Ser Criston snorted in amusement while Ser Harwin's face grew overcast.
"How droll. I will let you go about your day. I need to go see to my son, the future King of Westeros."
Alicent forced her face to remain smooth as the two walked past. When they were out of ear shot Ser Criston turned to her.
"It sickens me that if something does not change, if the realm does not see reason, a wretched bastard will one day sit on the Iron Throne," he said softly, but angrily.
"As much as it sickens you, it terrifies me that my children may not live to even see that day. Whatever affection Rhaenyra had for me has turned to loathing. I fear that the best I can hope for is that Aegon, Aemond and Daeron would be allowed to take the Black, and even that unlikely."
"I will die before your sons come to harm; I swear it."
Alicent graced him with a smile. "I believe you, ser, but even you cannot stand against dragons. Yet, despair not. My father says he has a plan."
Ser Criston bowed his head and they continued their walk. Alicent did not know what her father could do to change the succession with Viserys being so stubborn about it. But she trusted him, he knew best.
***
Rhaenyra was fully recovered from giving birth to her darling son. It melted her heart every time she and Harwin got a private moment with Jace. Harwin's already big heart had only grown with the addition of a child. The troubling rumors that were no doubt spawned by the hateful Alicent dogged them, but her father had quelled them.
Rhaenyra knew the danger had not passed. Even her own precious sister doubted the boy was Laenor's. Laenor had told her of the conversation he had with Elaena. Rhaenyra was not sure what to do about it. She had not confronted Elaena; her little sister had not brought it up directly to her. She halfway wanted to explain that they had tried. It was awkward and difficult for Laenor, but he had performed, only his seed had not quickened. Granted, they had not tried often but they had. Having that conversation with her brilliant, seven-year-old sister, did not seem appropriate.
Whatever Elaena's beliefs on the matter were, she did not speak of them to anyone as far as Rhaenyra knew. Their relationship continued to be one of mutual love and affection. Now that Rhaenyra had recuperated, it was time to fly with Elaena. It was time to race dragons.
Rhaenyra's dragon, Syrax had the advantage in size, and was a fast dragon naturally. Not as fast as Meleys, her good-mother's dragon, but undoubtedly one of the faster ones. Viktoriya was still a small dragon, despite her rather rapid growth. Had she an adult rider, it would likely have been a tad too slight to effectively carry someone. No such problems for Elaena whose sizing had her look close to five than seven.
If there was one part of her formal learning Rhaenyra truly cared for, it was dragonlore. Most concepts the Maester's taught her came easy to her, but it was dreadfully dull. Dragons, dragons were not. She had mastered the ancient tongue of High Valarian, had learned how to ride, and care for dragons, and so much more. She knew all the dragons of her family's history; Balerion, Meraxes, Dreamfyre, Silverwing, and countless others.
Their race would be to circle the city three times. They would fly up toward Dragon gate, follow the wall until the Blackwater Bay and follow it as they went around Aegon's High Hill. Flying once again over land, they would again follow the wall until they made it back to the Dragon Gate. They had taken off and had just reached the Dragon Gate, Rhaenyra was grinning as the race began.
"Fly Syrax!"
Syrax let out a draconic screech and beat her wings with greater alacrity. Rhaenyra took an early lead as she watched the smaller silver dragon try to keep up. Laughing she banked her dragon to follow the wall of the city. Rhaenyra could make out the small figures on the ground who were no doubted stopping their mundane daily tasks to gawk at the magnificent dragons soaring high above them. She waved, though she knew it was unlikely anyone could see it.
Viktoriya had not caught up and Rhaenyra basked in the joy of flying as they glided through the air above the ships in the bay. As they neared the Blackwater Rush she looked behind and saw her sister was lower to the water than she was. A brief flash of concern was replaced by the silver dragon furling its wings and gliding upward. Flying was like sailing in some aspects, wind mattered, and upward wind sometimes could give a boost.
Had she known where the rising air would be? Or was that luck?
In either case the smaller dragon had managed to close the distance and the altitude with almost no energy expended on flapping her wings. Now upon the Blackwater Rush, Elaena drew close. Almost too close.
Rhaenyra saw that Elaena and her dragon were nearly atop of her. Not wishing to chance a dangerous midair collision, she commanded Syrax with her reins to move left, only for Elaena to follow. Rhaenyra frowned, what in the seven hells was her sister doing? She wasn't moving closer, just maintaining the distance.
Rhaenyra urged Syrax to fly faster, but as her mount flew faster, so too did Viktoriya. They winged north, over the tourney grounds and flew along the wall passing the King's Gate and then the Lion Gate, Viktoriya still on her heels.
She commanded her mount more speed and Syrax let out a roar and beat her wings with a fury. Now she was pulling away and the silver dragon grew more distant. The expenditure of energy the rapid flapping by Syrax was not something that could be sustained. Dragons could fly hundreds of miles without resting, but not at their highest possible speed. Humans could walk far without resting, they could run a decent way, and unless one was very fit, only sprint short distances. Syrax was now doing the equivalent of sprinting.
With such a commanding lead, and only one lap completed, Rhaenyra slowed Syrax's headlong rush. Back over the waters and as they slowed, on came Elaena and her dragon. Once more the smaller dragon timed her dive and gliding soar perfectly, but her sister couldn't quite catch up. They concluded the second circuit of the city, and began the third. The race was on in earnest and Viktoriya was gaining once again.
Rhaenyra gave a whoop of delight; her sister was surprisingly tenacious! As they came out of the Blackwater Bay and over the Blackwater Rush, Elaena closed the distance and was once again directly behind her.
The heir to the Iron Throne urged Syrax faster and faster. Her dragon obeyed, though it wasn't quite as fast as their earlier 'sprint.' Yet, despite the increased speed, Elaena remained nearly directly behind them. As they turned the final corner around the Gate of the Gods, Viktoriya flew forward with a burst of energy above Rhaenyra.
"Go Syrax, go!"
Rhaenyra watched as the smaller silver dragon soared, half gliding in the warm air before tucking its wings close the body and then dive down toward Dragon Gate. Syrax let out another screech and flapped her wings, trying to catch up to the smaller dragon. Rhaenyra felt fear grip her as Elaena's dragon dipped dangerously low, but before she got too close to the ground, she pulled from the dive and the silver scales glistened as the crossed over the figurative finish line ahead of Syrax.
They both then descend back to the Dragonpit. Upon landing Rhaenyra embraced her sister.
"Hail to the winner!"
Elaena was smiling, not her usual polite smiles, but full-on joyful grinning. Her sister never seemed happier than when she was flying. They could have been doing this years earlier, if only Alicent had not been such an overprotective shrew. She quickly dismissed the thought; Rhaenyra was not going to allow that Hightower bitch to ruin her mood.
"Thank you, sister. That was a lot of fun."
"It was! Though I should tell you, there is plenty of sky, no need to fly directly behind me."
"Ah, well, I tried to keep a safe distance while still taking advantage of the slipstream."
"Slipstream?"
"There is reduced air pressure directly behind you as you fly. I was taking advantage of it to conserve Viktoriya's energy for the final leg."
Rhaenyra nodded in comprehension. She still had another question.
"How did you know where the upwind locations would be?"
"Upwind… that is a descriptive way to put it, but can cause confusion with the way smallfolk use the term upwind. I call them thermals, which create an updraft. They are naturally occurring due to the variance of heat, but certain areas, due to the way the land and the water meet are regularly occurring and predictable. On prior flights I had noticed a stable one over the Blackwater Bay and utilized it. I believe our dragons can sense them too, and I've watched Viktoriya make use of them when flying on her own. However, when someone is riding, I suspect they don't naturally do it out of concern for the rider and following our instructions."
Rhaenyra was impressed and more than a little shocked. She had thought she knew everything about dragons there was to know. It was humbling, but a deep well of pride over her little sister's expertise overwhelmed that feeling. She embraced her sister again and mussed her hair.
"My clever little sister! Come, let us change out our riding clothes and you can tell me more about what you've observed Viktoriya doing. I'll have the cooks make us some honey cakes. The new cook adds something rich to them, and they are truly divine."
Elaena's facial expression flickered to one of distaste, but it was gone in less than a heartbeat. Rhaenyra knew her sister liked sweet things, but maybe the new honey cake recipe was too much. Elaena would be too polite to say so, and likely just nibble. Rhaenyra would instruct the servants to also prepare a regular batch as well. Days like these were ones Rhaenyra enjoyed the most. Flying dragons, meals with her sister, and when they parted some alone time with Harwin.
Notes:
Special Thanks to MARch_Of_Time for proofreading!