Chapter Text
The dress that had been picked out for Rhaenyra was similar to some of the ones she already had. A long black gown with a red interior decorated with scales, shallow upward points of the sleeves at her shoulders, three golden clasps down her chest and stomach shaped like dragons that closed the dress at the front, but this particular dress was detailed with golden outlines and emblazoned with twin dragons in gold thread facing one another on either side of the button line.
Her pale hair was tied back in a plaided bun and small subtle gold earrings dangled from her lobes.
She wore nothing upon her brow, not even a simple headpiece of fabric like the one she wore during the ceremony when she was first named heir.
Rhaenyra could still remember standing before the mirror as Alicent helped her get ready.
Now, twenty years on, Rhaenyra was in the very same chamber in Maegor’s holdfast, standing before a mirror as she had been so long ago, though this time it was Baela and Rhaena who were helping her dress.
The two girls ran their fingers along the seams of the dress, pulled the ruffles and creases away and brushed off any stray hairs.
Both were as sullen and melancholic as Rhaenyra, Baela even having flickers of anger in her eyes and Rhaena trying to comfort the princess with empathic smiles whenever they caught one another’s gaze in the mirror.
When the girls were done, Rhaenyra turned to face them both directly, looking into their eyes as they forced smiles in attempts to comfort her and Rhaenyra responded by taking their hands and holding them, allowing the three of them to take solace in one another’s company for a moment.
Rhaenyra was glad to have them as well as her sons and Daemon around her, else ways she might never have been able to survive the grief, betrayal and humiliation she’d been subjected to in the last fortnight since her father died.
When the three of them were ready they left the chamber and made their way through the Red Keep towards the throne room.
The walk from Maegor’s to the great hall was probably the longest in her life, each step she took felt like a mile with the weight of her heavy-laden heart pulling her back.
When Rhaenyra and her two stepdaughters turned the corner into the throne room, it was filled with lords, ladies and knights of the realm.
Hundreds of people lined up in rows from wall to wall save for a long narrow path leading from the doors to the Iron Throne at the end of the hall.
Otto had summoned as many of the nobles of the realm to King’s Landing for the ceremony as he could reach but had only given fifteen days' notice by raven.
Most of the nobles had travelled night and day to reach the capital in time, but Otto did not wish to delay any longer than he had to.
He wanted as many lords of the realm assembled as possible but more than that, he wanted the matter put to rest quickly and cleanly with no room for plots or defiance to brew.
Rhaenyra took a sharp breath of courage through her nose and walked down the middle row with a stiff lip and her head held high.
Six pillars stood between her and the iron throne, the two closest to the door were bare, though one would soon carry a statue of her late father Viserys the Peaceful upon it.
While the Greens may have blatantly repudiated Viserys’s wishes of the succession and defaced much of the Red Keep with statues and stars of the faith to replace Targaryen heraldry and old valyrian mosaics and tapestries, at the very least they had been kind enough to give her father an epithet worthy of the good man he was.
One day, most likely long after Rhaenyra was gone, the statue adjacent to her father would bear the visage of her brother Aegon whose line would carry on the legacy of House Targaryen on the Iron Throne rather than Rhaenyra’s.
Beyond the two empty columns reserved for Aegon the Usurper and Viserys the Peaceful were the statues of Jaehaerys the Conciliator and Maegor the Cruel and beyond them Aenys the Gentle and Aegon the Conqueror.
As Rhaenyra continued down the line, stalked by the stone carvings of the kings of old, her eyes glanced over to either side of the rows at the assembled nobles.
Some looked to her with empathy and solidarity, the loyal who had stood by her.
Some looked at her with disappointment and anger, mostly those who had lost kin to the Greens’ executioner for refusing to abandon Rhaenyra and now they judged Rhaenyra for giving up.
Some looked to her with remorse and sorrow, those who had bent the knee to the Greens and felt guilty for it.
Some looked at her with smiles of condescension and antagonization, scorned suitors from her youth, close friends of the Greens and those who had always believed her gender made her unsuitable as a ruler.
Then there were some neither hateful, remorseful or kind to her, but seeming altogether uninterested one way or the other.
Rhaenyra, Baela and Rhaena joined their family four rows from the front, on the right side with the Small Council, the Hightowers and the Lords of the Great Houses ahead of them and at the very front row were the Greens themselves.
At one point or another, the people ahead of them glanced back at Rhaenyra and she saw their faces.
Some looked at her triumphantly and patronising, Jasper Wylde, the Lannister twins Lord Jason and Ser Tyland and Ormund Hightower.
Grand Maester Orwyle seemed remorseful and embarrassed when Rhaenyra caught his eyes, perhaps not as readily complicit in the coup as others were.
None of the Greens dared glance back at her, not Otto, Alicent, Helaena, Aemond or Daeron, their eyes were forward, looking upon the empty throne of the conqueror as they waited.
Rhaenyra glanced down her row to the faces of her family.
None of them were happy, some were sullen, some were angry and some were disheartened.
Daemon stood by Rhaenyra’s side, his eyes forward, gloomy and tight-lipped.
Rhaenyra took his hand to quell him but it did not do much to temper him.
Had it not been for the dream they all had shared and their agreement to follow it, Daemon would probably never have gone along with any of this.
Jace was also visibly angry, more so than Baela but less so than Daemon.
Luke and Rhaena seemed terrified but seemed to calm one another when they joined hands.
Corlys and Rhaenys faced the matter with grace and their heads held high, no strangers to the disrespect and humiliation Rhaenyra was now being subjected to.
When Rhaenys glanced over to Rhaenyra she gave her a confident nod of respect as though assuring her that she would survive this farce as Rhaenys had once done.
A short while later, the royal fanfare was played by the trumpeters at the door and all eyes turned to the entrance.
Standing at the entrance flanked by his Kingsguard and several men-at-arms was Aegon.
One of the two trumpeters then announced Aegon’s entrance.
“Aegon of House Targaryen, second of his name. King of the Andals, the Rhoynar and the First Men. Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm. ”
The new King was dressed in a fine tunic of green, emblazoned with two flaming gold dragons facing one another in gold silk embroidery. A gold chain necklace hung around his neck and round two golden seals clasped his cloak to his shoulders, long black gloves on his hands and sheathed upon his belt was the ancestral dagger of house Targaryen which carried the secret legacy of the conqueror’s dream and adjacent from it was the royal sword Blackfyre and upon his brow was the valyrian steel crown of Aegon the first that had not been worn since the days of Maegor the cruel.
The sockets that once held the large rubies were empty and only the small seven-sided ruby in the centre remained.
The seven kingsguard followed behind Aegon as he walked pridefully down the centre of the hall, but behind the seven were four more men dressed in kingsguard armour, un-cloaked, which greatly vexed Rhaenyra.
Behind the Kingsguard came the Men-at-arms, now dressed in green tabards over mail with the gold Targaryen dragon, pauldrons, gauntlets and open-faced barbutes of steel.
The banners in the Red Keep had all been changed to match, now trading black and red for green and gold.
While the Targaryen name may remain, the Iron Throne now belonged to the Hightowers and all knew it.
With the Citadel and the Starry Sept in Oldtown, the Hightowers now had influence and sway in all aspects of the realm.
Everyone heeded the word of the Maesters, the Septons and the King and now all would heed the will of the Hightowers.
It made Rhaenyra disgusted and ashamed, her family’s legacy was now a puppet of an overly ambitious house of liars and snakes.
Rhaenyra’s solace came from the assurance that while the Targaryens’ will over the Iron Throne would soon be drowned out, Rhaenyra’s family would not linger in the seven kingdoms to watch their house’s downfall.
After this farcical performance of debasement for the amusement of the Greens, they would be free to pursue the destiny presented to them in their dreams on the night of Viserys’s death, a righteous purpose for them to pursue or a fool's errand into the jaws of death, only time could tell.
Aegon eventually reached the steps of the Iron Throne, ascending its steps and sitting upon the thousand blades of Aegon’s fallen enemies.
The smug and self-pleased look upon Aegon’s face boiled Rhaenyra’s blood, he didn’t even care about any of this, not the factionalism between the Blacks and the Greens nor the duties of the realm, he was just enjoying the pride and vanity the crown and throne gave him.
When Aegon was seated on the throne, his seven kingsguard standing before him at the throne’s base with the four un-cloaked kingsguard off to the side, Otto Hightower stepped forward, a new hand of the king badge pinned on his fur-lined green long coat.
The previous one he had worn, Rhaenyra had ripped off his chest and cast off the cliffs of Dragonstone when Otto came to give terms of peace.
Rhaenyra did not mind him wearing this new badge, a newly made broach crafted specifically for the Hand of King Aegon, that was fine.
But Rhaenyra would not stomach seeing him wear the old badge she had thrown away, a badge given to him by her father, placed on his breast as a mark of trust and love, he had no right to it.
Despite the twists and turns in their relationship over the years, Viserys had perhaps regarded Otto as his closest friend, or at least the nearest thing to.
Let him wear Aegon’s badge, but not the badge of the man he’d betrayed, Rhaenyra would not have it.
“My lords, ladies and knights of the realm!” Otto began, announcing his voice to the entire chamber.
“A little over a fortnight has passed since our beloved King Viserys the Peaceful breathed his last and his rightful heir, Aegon, succeeded him as King.”
Daemon scoffed, causing Rhaenyra to squeeze his hand to try and contain him.
“In the hours that followed the succession, uncertainty and dispute throughout the realm brought on by the obsolete former assertions of Viserys’s desired heir threatened to tare the realm into strife and war. This looming threat of war possessed the potential to bring an end to the ninety-year age of peace that began with Jaehaerys the conciliator. However, in a desire to honour their shared father, their dynasty and the prosperity of the realm they both love so very much. King Aegon and his dear sister, the former heir, Princess Rhaenyra, came together in diplomacy and set aside their hostilities to share the support of their father’s wishes to have Aegon sit the Iron Throne.”
A painful lump welled up in Rhaenyra’s throat and her heart ached.
Otto’s false narrative of her father’s wish to see Aegon as king felt demeaning to listen to without resistance.
“The King recognises that many of you, much like the Princess, questioned the authenticity of Viserys’s rectification of his succession and pledged themselves for Rhaenyra as Queen with intent to challenge the rightful king with force in the event of war. But in his infinite wisdom and mercy and in the name of peace and prosperity, King Aegon made a solemn promise to his sister to grant amnesty to any knight or lord who had pledged to her in the treasonous conspiracy against King Aegon’s lawful ascension to the throne.”
Rhaenyra closed her eyes and took a deep breath, trying to calm herself in the face of the frustration brought on by Otto’s words, calling Rhaenyra and her allies treasonous conspirators against Aegon, a fowl distortion of the truth.
“Now, to solidify the continuation of Jaehaerys and Viserys’s peace, all lords, ladies and knights here will swear obeisance to King Aegon in perpetuity so that there will be no further question of his legitimacy. Regardless of whether you pledged to Rhaenyra or Aegon at the time of Viserys’s death, now is the time to unite under the one true king and ensure the continued prosperity of your houses and the realm.”
Otto then called each of the Lords of the Great Houses to kneel before the Iron Throne and pledge obeisance to him just as had been done so long ago when Rhaenyra was named heir.
First Lord Borros Baratheon took to his knee before Aegon.
“I Borros Baratheon, Lord of Storm’s End and Lord Paramount of the Stormlands, promise to be faithful to King Aegon, I pledge fealty to him and promise to defend him from all enemies in good faith and without deceit, I swear this by the old gods and the new.”
Lord Borros was brisk and to the point with his pledge, saying the words plainly, standing up and returning to his position.
Lord Borros was proud, grumpy and self-interested, his loyalty to Aegon was not earned by any morals or beliefs but instead purchased by the betrothal between his daughter Floris and Prince Aemond.
Next came the Castellan of Highgarden, one of the regents who represented the infant Lord Lyonel Tyrell.
“In the name of my liege Lord Lyonel Tyrell, Lord of Highgarden, Lord Paramount of the Mander, Defender of the marches, High marshal of the Reach and Warden of the South, I Ser Walton Hewett, Castellan of Highgarden and joint-regent of the Reach, promise to be faithful to King Aegon on behalf of myself and my lord, I pledge fealty to him and promise to defend him from all enemies in good faith and without deceit on behalf of myself and my lord, I swear this by the old gods and the new on behalf of myself and my lord.”
Next, Ser Oscar, grandson and heir to the bedridden and elderly Lord Grover Tully stepped forward and knelt.
“In the name of my grandsire and liege Lord Grover Tully, Lord of Riverrun and Lord Paramount of the Trident, I Ser Oscar Tully, promise to be faithful to King Aegon on behalf of myself and my lord, I pledge fealty to him and promise to defend him from all enemies in good faith and without deceit on behalf of myself and my lord, I swear this by the old gods and the new on behalf of myself and my lord.”
Next was Lady Jeyne Arryn, Rhaenyra’s kin through her mother, she glanced back at Rhaenyra for a fleeting second before taking the knee.
“I Jeyne Arryn, Lady of the Eyrie, Defender of the Vale, Warden of the East, promise to be faithful to King Aegon, I pledge fealty to him and promise to defend him from all enemies in good faith and without deceit, I swear this by the old gods and the new.”
Next, Lord Jason Lannister stepped forward all too gracious and happy, his voice proud and boisterous. So long ago, Rhaenyra had spurned him and his betrothal and the infinitely proud man had never forgotten it.
“I Jason Lannister, Lord of Casterly Rock, Shield of Lannisport and Warden of the West, promise to be faithful to King Aegon, I pledge fealty to him and promise to defend him from all enemies in good faith and without deceit, I swear this by the old gods and the new.”
Lastly, Lord Craegan Stark took to his knee and spoke.
“I Cregan Stark, Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North, promise to be faithful to King Aegon, I pledge fealty to him and promise to defend him from all enemies in good faith and without deceit, I swear this by the old gods and the new.”
With the great lords now pledged to Aegon, it was finally time.
“Princess Rhaenyra! Step forward!” Otto called out.
Subtly murmurs and mutterings filled the room, but the click of the heels of Rhaenyra’s shoes overshadowed the hushed gossiping of the noble lords.
When Rhaenyra reached the steps of the Iron Throne, the Kingsguard stood lined up in front of her, Otto off to the left at the base of the throne and Aegon looking down at her, holding Blackfyre in his hand.
For the good of the realm , she told herself, I have my own destiny to follow.
With that, Rhaenyra dropped down to her knees.
“I Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen, promise to be faithful to King Aegon, I pledge fealty to him and promise to defend him from all enemies in good faith and without deceit, I swear this by the old gods and the new. I recognise the legitimacy of Aegon Targaryen, my father’s tru— true heir. I forfeit my… I forfeit my illegitimate claim to the Iron Throne and…”
Rhaenyra took another shaky breath.
The speech had been prepared for her by Otto, a humiliating speech meant to tare down Rhaenyra and show her submit and yield to Aegon before all the Lords of the realm to break any hope that she could lead any further resistance against her brother.
Rhaenyra’s pause in the speech unsettled Otto who gave a stern glare to her.
Criston Cole tightened his grip on the hilt of his blade, probably under orders to slice her head off there and then if she did not go through with it.
Rhaenyra glanced over to the front line to her right where the Greens stood.
Her eyes went to Alicent, sad and worried, silently pleading for Rhaenyra to end the matter peacefully.
The knife in Rhaenyra’s heart from Alicent’s betrayal still stung.
The night before her father’s death Alicent had toasted Rhaenyra and said she would make a great Queen. She had pleaded with Rhaenyra to stay in King’s Landing so they might better mend their relationship.
Then the next day she crowned Aegon as King and sent Otto with a torn page from one of their history books to convince her to forsake her claim to the throne in the name of their friendship that she had once again discarded.
But for all Otto’s farcical ramblings of Aegon’s legitimacy, he spoke a few small truths, one key above them being that disputing the succession would bring an end to the long peace that began with Jaehaerys.
If Rhaenyra was the true Queen, then what kind of Queen would she be if she plunged the realm into despair and chaos for her own desires?
The realm would remain united under the House Targaryen and who knows, perhaps when Otto breathed his last, the Hightower influence would dissipate and the Targaryens would return to a house of their own mind.
Perhaps Aegon’s son Jaehaerys would be as mighty and wise a man as his namesake.
But if Rhaenyra challenged Aegon’s claim, fire and blood would be the end result.
Rhaenyra had said to Daemon that her oath reached beyond her personal ambitions.
Aegon had united the Seven Kingdoms, Jaehaerys stabilised them and her father Viserys maintained them, all in the name of the coming war against the darkness in the north and the conqueror’s dream.
Now it was Rhaenyra’s turn to do her part in readying the realm for the Prince that was promised, not by conquering, conciliating or conserving, but instead by surrendering.
With determination and fortitude in her soul, Rhaenyra looked forward and continued her pledge.
“And I beg forgiveness for my sedition and treason against my brother and give gratitude for his mercy and generosity. Long may he reign and his son Jaehaerys after him and the rest of his line from this time until the end of time.”
Rhaenyra glanced over to Otto who gave a nod coupled with a wicked smile, when she read his eyes, they said to her, good girl, as though Rhaenyra were a dog broken into submission and brought to heel.
The hateful glare Rhaenyra replied to Otto with was one that she hope he read as fuck you.
With the grovelling and debasement completed in its entirety, Rhaenyra stood up and bowed before the brother who had usurped her and returned to her family.
Smug faces of traitor lords dogged her as she returned to the row at Daemon’s side, gripping his hand and breathing deeply.
Next, the many lords and knights that filled the room came and pledged their fealty to Aegon one at a time, some happily loyal to Aegon, some reluctant, some indifferent, but they all knelt and they all said the words.
Lord Corlys went up and mouthed the words reluctantly, playing the part just as Rhaenyra had been made to do so.
Lord Bartimos Celtigar, Lord Simon Stauton, Lord Gormon Massey and many others who had stood by Rhaenyra, all playing their role as Rhaenyra had instructed them to do so.
As the ceremony continued, Aegon began falling asleep on the throne while the hundreds of nobles took turns bowing to him only to be betrayed and nicked by the throne which awoke him.
When just about every Lord and landed knight had made their pledge, Rhaenyra’s legs stiff and sore from all the standing and watching, all thought that the matter would soon be dismissed, but Otto had one last matter to address.
“Now, one final matter to be addressed. Ser Steffon Darklyn, step forward,” Otto commanded.
Ser Steffon of the Kingsguard stepped out from the line of seven and turned to face the King and the hand.
The crowds began gossiping again and Rhaenyra exchanged confused looks with her family down the row, all equally vexed as she was.
Ser Steffon had been one of the Kingsguard knights sworn to her and had guarded her family for years on Dragonstone. When the succession crisis broke out, he and his sworn brother Lorent Marbrand had both pledged to her as Queen along with Ser Erryk Cargyll who had fled the Red Keep with Rhaenys and brought Rhaenyra her father’s crown.
When Rhaenyra first agreed to terms of peace and surrendered her claim, she sent the three kingsguard back to Aegon and declared she would not let them be called oathbreakers for the loyalty they showed to her.
“You may remove your helm,” Otto declared.
Ser Steffon hesitated for a moment but removed his helmet as commanded.
A squire then came and collected the helm, taking it away.
Rhaenyra thought it odd since Steffon could have easily held the helm to his breast until whatever was about to happen concluded.
“Please remind the court, Ser Steffon, your oath of the Kingsguard, to whom did you first swear it?” Otto asked.
Steffon hung his head for a moment before raising it and speaking.
“I swore my oath first to King Jaehaerys the wise, Lord Hand. Then to his grace King Viserys when he succeeded his grandsire,” Steffon’s voice seemed reluctant and full of despair, as though he knew what was coming and did not like it.
“And when King Viserys died, to whom did you swear to?” Otto asked.
Oh, gods no, Rhaenyra thought to herself as her heart quickened.
“To the King's named heir, Rhaenyra Targaryen, the Princess of Dragonstone,” Steffon said, his voice containing a glimmer of pride in his words.
Otto smiled to himself as he nodded.
“Ser Steffon, you have served the realm long and faithfully, every man and woman in the seven kingdoms owes you a debt and the Iron Throne owes you many thanks. However, no matter how capricious King Viserys’s rectification of his chosen successor may have seemed in his final hours, you did forsake the rightful King in the name of a usurper. Traditionally, such a transgression would call for any number of penalties from execution, gelding, exile or sentence to the Night’s Watch. But in keeping with King Aegon’s promise to Princess Rhaenyra to grant unconditional pardons to all who sided with her the King has decided to release you from your oath with grace and respect. You will set aside your cloak and armour and your entry in the white book will attribute no insult or dishonour to your dismissal. Ser Steffon, do you accept these terms?” Otto asked.
This can’t be happening, Rhaenyra thought.
Ser Steffon did not deserve this, he was a good man, a just man and a fine Kingsguard knight. He deserved no such disgrace as to be cast out of the order he had pledged to.
“I do,” Steffon declared.
Otto raised his head high.
“Ser Rickard Thorne, step forward,” Otto commanded.
One of the four un-cloaked Kingsguard knights that had followed the seven in then stepped forward and took a position next to Ser Steffon.
Now Rhaenyra knew what was going on and she was powerless to stop it.
“Ser Rickard, you have been chosen to join the brotherhood of the Kingsguard, to swear fealty to the King and serve him and his household as their protectors. Do you accept this responsibility?” Otto asked.
“I do, Lord Hand,” the knight replied.
“Then kneel and speak the oath,” Otto invited.
The knight dropped to his knee while Ser Steffon undid the buckles of his cloak and pulled the white cloth cape from his back.
“I swear to ward the king with all my strength and give my blood for his. I shall take no wife, hold no lands, father no children. I shall guard his secrets, obey his commands, ride at his side, and defend his name and honour.”
And when the words were completed, Ser Steffon clipped the cloak onto Ser Rickard’s back.
Ser Rickard then took Steffon’s place in the line of the cloaked seven and Ser Steffon left the chamber down the aisle between the two crowds.
Next, the process repeated with Ser Lorent Marbrand surrendering his cloak to a Ser Gyles Belgrave.
After Ser Lorent, Ser Erryk Cargyll gave his cloak to Ser Marston Waters.
The three knights who had pledged to Rhaenyra had all been undeservedly stripped of their cloaks, but there was still one un-cloaked kingsguard left.
Who else would the Greens decloak?
Ser Willis Fell, whose cousin Lady Fell had been executed by the Greens for refusing to abandon Rhaenyra?
Ser Arryk, Erryk’s brother whom Otto might not trust after his brother’s decloaking.
Certainly, Otto did not mean to strip Cole of his cloak, for he was the Greens loyalist ally, people even now called him the Kingmaker, for declaring and crowning Aegon in the Dragonpit.
Rhaenyra then looked to the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard.
No, she thought.
“Ser Harrold Westerling, step forward.”
From what Rhaenyra knew, Ser Harrold had interpreted his oath as forbidding him from partaking in the succession crisis and had refused to pledge to either side until a clear successor was named.
When Rhaenyra surrendered, Ser Harrold returned to Aegon and pledged himself.
Not an opportunist or a coward waiting for which side won, but instead an honourable man who did not wish to betray his oath in a time of uncertainty.
“Ser Harrold, please remind the court of your oath of the Kingsguard, to whom did you first swear it?” Otto asked.
“I swore my oath first to King Jaehaerys, Lord Hand. Then to his grace King Viserys when he succeeded the throne and was promoted to the rank of Lord Commander following the death of my predecessor Ser Ryman Redwyne, then to King Aegon when he succeeded his father,” Harrold announced.
“When King Aegon was first named as his father’s heir, was your pledge of allegiance immediate?” Otto asked.
“No, Lord Hand,” Ser Harrold replied, his voice clearly showing pain in his words.
“For what reason did you hesitate to fulfil your oath?” Otto asked.
Harrold exhaled.
“A Kingsguard knight serves at the pleasure of the King… or Queen. I believed that to take sides in the succession dispute was a dereliction of my duty to act impartially and without personal agenda. I believed the only appropriate action was to wait until the matter of Viserys’s succession had been settled.”
“Admirable pursuits, Ser Harrold. But the fact of the matter remains, Princess Rhaenyra yielded her claim and Aegon is the rightful King… a king you abandoned in times of uncertainty.”
Rhaenyra took the first step to challenge Otto’s ruling, but Daemon held her back by the wrist.
“Steady,” he said to her quietly.
They were almost free of the matter, if Otto smelt even a whiff of defiance, he’d have them all killed before they could leave the Red Keep.
Rhaenyra was helpless to defend Ser Harrold’s position.
“Ser Harrold, you may not have sided with Rhaenyra in her conspiracy, but you did fail your oaths to the Kingsguard by failing to stand by your King’s side through his ascension. But your refusal to be complicit in the plot against the King has not gone unnoticed. You will be afforded the same graceful exit from the Kingsguard as presented to your former sworn brothers. Your posting as Lord Commander will be succeeded by Ser Criston Cole. Do you accept?” Otto asked.
Ser Harrold’s head hung low.
“I do, Lord Hand,” Ser Harrold replied.
With that, the last newly named Kingsguard knight took Ser Harrold’s cloak and then his place, Ser Hobert Hightower, of course.
Ser Criston Cole seemed quite pleased with himself, now Lord Commander of the Kingsguard.
Rhaenyra was surprised the newly assembled seven still wore white cloaks since green was clearly more their colour.
Just when they seemed done with the ceremonial sycophantic display for Aegon’s pleasure, Otto began a chant.
“All hail King Aegon, second of his name! Long live the King! Long may he reign!”
The crowd echoed Otto’s words back at the throne and then the ceremony was finally ended.
Rhaenyra led her family out of the great hall past small clusters of chatting nobles who glared at her as she passed them by.
When they were outside the throne room and a short distance away from the other small rings of gossipers, Rhaenyra halted and turned, forming her own little audience ring with her family.
“I want to tell you all how proud I am of how gracefully you all dealt with this matter,” Rhaenyra explained.
The Princess slid her arms around the shoulders of Luke and Baela who stood on either side of her.
“This has been a great trial for all of us… but we survived and we did it with our heads held high and now the worst is behind us,” Rhaenyra declared, affectionately moving a strand of hair out of Baela’s face and extracting a gentle smile from her.
“So will the Hightowers allow us to leave then?” Jace asked.
Rhaenyra nodded.
“Otto is very enthusiastic about us following through on our venture. By undertaking this voyage, the crown gets to keep Dragonstone after we abandon it and doubtless, he’ll replace those that follow us east with nobles loyal to him,” Rhaenyra declared.
“More to the point, Otto believes this quest is doomed in failure like all that came before it. In his mind we will remove ourselves as a threat by readily killing ourselves rather than provoking assassins and cutthroats to come after us,” Rhaenys declared, her arm around Rhaena’s shoulder.
“In any case. I’ve already received a document of written permission from Aegon — or rather from Otto and signed with Aegon’s name — ensuring that we, our households, our dragons and whomever else voluntarily chooses to follow us may leave with no objection from the crown. Otto has also assured me that the embargo placed down by Jaehaerys will be repealed at the next Small Council meeting.”
The group nodded, all pleased to hear Rhaenyra’s news.
“Once we and our allies return to our castles around the Blackwater, we can start assembling our ships and recruiting whatever families, sailors, soldiers and knights wish to join us on this great exodus. It will be hard to say how many will wish to follow us on this venture, but since the time of Aenar the Exile, the ways of Old Valyria have been well-heeded by those who live on the Blackwater. The dragon dream you all shared on the night of Viserys’s death will serve as a beckoning to our cause,” Corlys asserted.
“With any luck, I imagine we’ll be dining at the Sealord’s palace and recruiting Braavosi ships to join us within one turn of the moon,” Daemon declared confidently.
“Perhaps more than one turn, Daemon,” Rhaenyra interjected, drawing concerned looks from her family.
“Since we arrived at the Red Keep, I have been approached by Lord Merryweather and Lady Caswell, both of whose predecessors were murdered by the Hightowers for remaining loyal to me. Both had heard rumours of our planned voyage and expressed a desire to join us, believing they could no longer safely dwell here in Westeros after what happened to their family members. A number of small lords and knights have also approached me and expressed a desire to join us,” Rhaenyra explained.
Corlys’s expression shifted to intrigue.
“Perhaps we could take this opportunity while so many lords and knights are gathered to prod out any who might be tempted to join us on our voyage. Daemon, I saw Lord Duncord Sunglass earlier. He was a valued ally to us in the Stepstones and if memory serves he pledged his forces to Rhaenyra. Perhaps we could round up Lord Simon and Lord Bartimos to convince him to follow us to further glory,” Corlys suggested.
Daemon smiled and nodded.
“My captains in the City Watch were removed by the Greens during the coup, but they still command the loyalty of the men, as do I. Perhaps I could rustle together between five and six hundred men.”
“Is that not dangerous? Wouldn’t the Greens take that as sedition if we start recruiting lords of the realm to join us?” Rhaena asked.
“On the contrary, Otto welcomes it, he even encouraged me to seek out nobles to join me on this quest. You saw what he did to the Kingsguard that pledged to me. In his mind, all the nobles that join us will perish with us should our expedition fail. Otto Hightower wishes to rid himself of as many of our allies as possible and replace the rulership of their seats with his own list of friends,” Rhaenyra explained.
Rhaenyra’s family exchanged looks with one another in contemplation.
“In that case, we should revisit our list of allies that pledged to us in the beginning. The great lords and stronger houses will most likely remain in their ancestral seats, but the middling and lesser nobles that pledged to us will probably face great disparity for having joined us and might fare better joining us in our new domain,” Rhaenys suggested.
Rhaenyra nodded in agreement.
With that, the family turned to continue on to their guest chambers in Maegor’s holdfast, but Rhaenyra stopped when she saw the three un-helmed and de-cloaked kingsguard knights standing together away from the nobles that flooded the halls, speaking amongst one another with grim expressions.
“Go on without me. I will rejoin you soon,” Rhaenyra declared to her family.
Rhaenys and Daemon’s eyes darted from her to the Kingsguard knights, seeming to comprehend what she intended to do and both nodded to her in agreement.
Rhaenys held the princess’s hand and smiled for a moment before continuing to Maegor’s.
Rhaenyra was nervous to approach the former Kingsguard knights, had it not been for their loyalty to her and her subsequent surrender, they would never have been stripped of their white cloaks.
The Princess could only imagine how deeply they resented her for all she had cost them, but she would not hide from them or whatever scoldings they wished to lay upon them, she owed them all too much.
Rhaenyra approached the four men meekly, each of them falling silent and turning their attention to the princess.
Each knight bowed respectfully to her as she came near and addressed her by her title.
“Sers. Please hear me when I say… how truly very sorry I am for all this. You all served my father greatly for many years. This disrespect you have been forced to endure is the most grievous of errors and my part in this miscarriage of justice will haunt me for the rest of my days,” Rhaenyra declared, bowing her head.
“Your words are appreciated, Princess, but unnecessary,” Ser Steffon declared.
“As Kingsguard knights we are sworn to obey the will of the King and in twenty years, the King’s will to see you succeed him never faltered,” Ser Lorent added.
“We stand by our decision to pledge to you. We recognise the true line of succession. To continue to serve under Aegon would be to defect to a usurper,” Erryk added.
Rhaenyra was flattered and humbled by the continued loyalty of her knights who could so easily resent her for their dismissals and she would not have blamed them if they did.
Then Rhaenyra’s eyes turned to Ser Harrold who had not pledged to her but had been stripped of his cloak nonetheless.
“Princess Rhaenyra. My brothers have told me of your plans to abandon Dragonstone and the voyage you and your household intend to take. Is this true?” Ser Harrold asked.
Rhaenyra nodded.
The old Westerling knight smiled.
“I have known you all your life, Princess. As your sworn shield I have watched over you since you were a little girl and as Lord Commander, I stood by your father’s side as he staunchly remained committed to you as his chosen heir. When Otto Hightower planned to insert Aegon as King, he demanded I take my knights to Dragonstone and kill you, Prince Daemon and all your children. It was for that reason I resigned.”
Rhaenyra took Ser Harrold’s hands and gently smiled.
“I am ever in debt to you, old friend,” she asserted.
Ser Harrold seemed to light up at the princess’s words.
“Well… It seems that myself and my former sworn brothers are now unburdened by any oaths of allegiance and this quest you mean to undertake could pose many dangers. I may be an old man with not many years left in me, but if you will have me… It would be my honour to serve you from now until the end of my days,” Ser Harrold declared.
A shaky breath escaped Rhaenyra as joy and astonishment filled her.
Ser Steffon, Ser Erryk and Ser Lorent all nodded in agreement.
Of her father’s final seven, four now wished to serve her.
“It would be my honour to take you into my household, my brave and loyal knights,” Rhaenyra said graciously.
The tender moment was cut short when Ser Lorent and Ser Harrold stepped past Rhaenyra, causing her to turn around and see her two new sworn shields blocking the path of the now Dowager Queen Alicent, accompanied by Ser Arryk.
Alicent stopped in her tracks and looked with concern at Ser Lorent and Ser Harrold.
The former Queen Consort hardly seemed like a threat, but Rhaenyra was flattered to see her knights refuse to let her approach Rhaenyra unannounced at her own leisure.
“Please excuse me, Sers,” Alicent said gently as she tried to step forward between them, but when the two knights remained impassable, Alicent stepped back shyly.
Ser Arryk gripped the hilt of his sword, seeming to prepare for trouble.
To prevent an incident, Rhaenyra raised her hand, signalling her knights to stand down.
“It’s alright, Sers. She may approach,” Rhaenyra assured them.
Alicent looked with surprise as Lorent and Harrold shuffled to each side, opening the gap between them and allowing the Queen through.
“These knights now answer to you?” Alicent asked, curiously.
“Sers Harrold, Steffon, Erryk and Lorent have agreed to join my household as my sworn shields… as they are now free to do so, your Grace,” Rhaenyra replied stiffly.
Alicent nodded silently.
The Dowager Queen seemed like a timid little girl, worried and shy.
The confident and cold woman who hated Rhaenyra so passionately was now gone and had reverted to how she had been when she first became Queen, guilt-ridden and sorrowful towards Rhaenyra.
Perhaps there was sincerity in the wishes of reconciliation she had presented at the dinner and the page she had sent to Rhaenyra was meant as a sincere gesture of love.
But while Rhaenyra had agreed to surrender her claim for the good of the realm, she would not be unconditionally magnanimous towards Alicent.
A betrayal is a betrayal and feeling guilty afterwards was not grounds for immediate absolution.
“You have performed a virtuous service to the realm here today, Rhaenyra. The crown owes you a gracious debt for the concessions you have made in the name of peace and prosperity,” Alicent began, speaking warm and adoring words to Rhaenyra as though there was not a great rift between them.
“Thank you, your Grace,” Rhaenyra replied icily.
Alicent’s eyes darted down to the ground.
“I understand that you must see this as another betrayal. To name Aegon as King and then invoke our friendship to convince you to accept terms of peace, but I swear to you that all I did was for the realm. Rhaenyra, I beg you, we have lost too many years letting politics and factionalism divide us. I do not wish to lose you again, not when we were so close to finally mending things. With the succession settled what left is there for us to fight over?" Alicent asked.
"Very diplomatically put, Your Grace. How inconvenient for me that you could not come to such a harmonious state of mind before your family took everything from mine."
Alicent's jaw hung open for a moment as she looked at Rhaenyra with sad and desperate eyes.
"Perhaps if we could talk — If I could better explain — Could we speak in private?” she pleaded.
“I’m afraid that I am pressed for time, your Grace. My family and I will soon be returning to Dragonstone in the next few days. We have much to prepare for,” Rhaenyra explained.
“Oh,” Alicent replied with surprise and concern.
“Y-yes, I had heard about your planned… expedition, from my father.”
Alicent’s eyes of worry lingered on the Princess for a moment.
“Rhaenyra, you cannot truly mean to go on with this plan, do you?” Alicent asked, taking another step closer to Rhaenyra.
“I do. On the night of my father’s death, I, Daemon, all our children and even Princess Rhaenys shared a dream. We have discussed it and agreed this dream to be an omen of things to come, like the one of Daenys Targaryen.”
Alicent took Rhaenyra’s hands into her own.
“Rhaenyra. I know you must harbour grievances towards me for my actions, but I beg you not to go through with this. This quest you mean to undertake has been attempted many times in the last two centuries and none have ever succeeded. If you remain on Dragonstone, your family can remain safe and contented with your eldest sons and Daemon’s daughters standing to inherit both Dragonstone and Driftmark. Perhaps in time, I could come visit you — if you’d have me. We could mend things between us… be as we once were in our youths,” Alicent pleaded.
As much as Rhaenyra truly wished that all the bad blood between them could just be forgotten, the pain was still too great.
It was not just a crown they had stolen from her after all, but also a daughter. The pain and shock of hearing of her father’s death and the Greens' betrayal had pushed her into labour long before her term and her beloved Visenya was born without life, an ill-formed corpse covered with scales, mangled and noosed in its own umbilical cord.
Rhaenyra would have traded a thousand crowns and thrones for her daughter to have lived, but such things were beyond her grasp.
Rhaenyra pulled her hands out of Alicent’s grip.
“There is nothing left for me here, your Grace,” Rhaenyra declared sternly.
Alicent looked shattered by Rhaenyra’s words.
“Please, Rhaenyra. Is there truly nothing I can do to fix this?”
Rhaenyra thought for a moment and while she did not feel comfortable asking Alicent for anything, there was something she required.
“Before I leave I must speak privately to King Aegon. There is a matter to be discussed if he is to truly succeed my father as king. The meeting must be private and he must bring my father’s valyrian steel dagger. If you can arrange that I would be… grateful to you,” Rhaenyra explained.
Alicent seemed perplexed.
“You wish to speak to my son, alone and with a knife?” Alicent recounted, perhaps thinking Rhaenyra wished to kill Aegon.
“His Kingsguard can wait outside at every entrance and kill me if I even touch your son and I will vow not to touch the knife, but it is paramount he brings it and that we are alone. This is something private and important. When my father first named me heir he gave me a closely guarded secret, if Aegon is to be king, then that secret is for me to give to him and him alone,” Rhaenyra declared.
After a moment of contemplation, Alicent nodded in agreement.
With that, Rhaenyra bid the Dowager Queen a good day and left with her sworn swords, marching towards Maegor’s to be with her family.