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Goddess of Peace, Wisdom, Strategy, and Reason
The Eyrie was absolutely beautiful, pale white stone gleaming in the light of the moonlight. The Keep rests at the very top of a mountain, making it difficult to reach, but making it seem ethereal in a way. From every room within the Eyrie has a stunning view, with every window giving them the view of the sky, nearby mountains, or the nearby cities.
Queen Alicent Hightower despised it. Hated the Eyrie, hated the cold mountain air, hated the views, hated the servents, and Lords and Ladies of the Vale. Every look she recieved, instead of being in awe of her piousness, grace, and beauty, they looked upon her in contempt, viewing her as a replacement of the Late Queen Aemma Arryn.
They seemed to forget that the Queen was a failure, having only given the King a singular daughter while she had given him two sons and a daughter. Yet she was punished, forced to watch as his whore of a daughter flaunted her position as heir, carrying around her bastard, alongside her swordswallowing husband.
She had given him a son, the son he had killed Aemma Arryn for, and yet he was not given the title he deserved. The title of Heir that was his right as a firstborn son. It was unfair to her and her sons! Shoved to the side as he doted endlessly upon his daughter and grandson, especially now that she was pregnant again.
The whore had barely waited six months before announcing she was pregnant again, and now at nearing 9 months she had packed up the entire household to visit her mothers home. And of course, the King had done whatever she asked of him.
So now she was sitting in this too small room with seven of her ladies in waiting embroidering a new pillow, listening to the chatter.
"Did you see what the Princess was wearing?" Cassandra Baratheon asked, leaning forward eagerly. As the youngest lady, at only 10-and-1, she loved to gossip and often heard the most scandalous gossip since she was ignored on account of her age and gender.
"Northern rags," Lady Maria Redwyne sneered, rocking slowly in her chair. As Queen Alicents Aunt, sister of her mother, she held seniority within the seven ladies. "They make her look the savage she is."
"Not that these people see it that way. Have you seen how they treat her? It's as if she is already Queen," Celia Lannister stated, shaking her head. The cousin of Jason and Tyland Lannister she was just as vain and proud, forming a deep dislike for Princess Rhaenyra and her ladies.
"If only the King would see reason," Lady Leyla Brackens murmured. "A woman ruling over the Kingdoms? We'd go bankrupt in months with all her fancies and expensive taste."
"She'd probably offend everyone she talked to," Ceryse Hightower chirped, gigling with Cassandra. As the two youngest, with Ceryse being 10-and-2, they had formed a close bond of friendship.
"The men at her feet would probably ignore her actions just to continue laying in her bed," Lady Mari Ambrose scoffed, sneering. Lady Leyla and Lady Maria nodded as the two youngest giggled.
"Hush girls," Lady Anya Peake barked, severe brown eyes sharp. "If anyone were to hear your words on the Princess our heads would roll. Have your parents not taught you to whisper?"
The oldest of her ladies, Lady Anya was second only to Lady Maria, for she was Queen Alicents paternal great-Aunt. A severe, pious woman, she was normally the one to escort Alicent to the Sept to pray.
"Unfortunately my husband is besotted by his daughter, unable to see any flaws she has. This extends to both her husband, and son, as I'm sure you've seen," Queen Alicent added, sadly. "Our own children are neglected by him, and so often does he refer to the Princess as his only daughter. My heart aches for my dear Halaena."
Her ladies murmured agreements, and hopes that Halaena did not feel left out. While her words were true, she did not truly wish for him to spend time with her children because he'd share the Targaryens queer customs with them.
"One day the King will see reason," Lady Maria swore, eyes darkening. If he didn't they all knew what would happen.
War.
Lady Annara Celtigar, Lady Amanda Arryn, and Lady Sara Snow watched over Crown Prince Jacaerys as he sat beside Vermithors snout, playing with his wooden figures. A group of five Dragonkeepers stood nearby, just in case.
"I never thought I'd see a dragon acting as a babysitter," Lady Annara giggled, earning a snort from Lady Sara.
"A dragons connection to their rider is something we will never understand. The closest we have ever come is when we bonded with Griffens, or Direwolves," Lady Amanda stated wisely. Both girls, barely 10-and-6, watched her in shock and awe before realizing the significance.
Silence fell before Lady Sara muttered, "He really does look like a babysitter."
Lady Annara burst into a fit of giggles, cutting herself off when Vermithor huffed out smoke, orange-yellow eye focusing on her.
"I feel like I'm being told to shut up," Lady Annora whispered, trembling as the Dragons gaze returned to his rider. Jacaerys, with no fear, smacked his dragons snout.
"Bad. Good lady," Jacaerys called, glaring at the dragon in defense of his favorite Lady-in-Waiting. Lady Amanda and Lady Annara both cooed at his sweetness as Lady Sara smiled affectionately.
The little prince had won their hearts near instantly after his birth. While several of Rhaenyra's Ladies-and-Maids-in-Waiting had come after her historic birth, they had all fallen for the sweet little prince and they were excited for the Crown Princess' next child.
"Such a sweet boy. He will be a wonderful King when it is time," Lady Annara said.
"Unfortunately, his personality is not set in stone, Annora. It will be up to his mother, father, and us to make sure he and all of his future siblings are raised well," Lady Amanda corrected.
"Prince Laenor and Princess Rhaenyra were talking of when it would be considered appropriate to begin having lessons to be a knight," Lady Sara commented, brow furrowing a little.
"What else did they mention?" Lady Annara questioned, vivid blue eyes sharp as she lowered her voice.
"They decided that once he turned 4 he would begin watching the Knights practicing before being allowed to train at 5, and squiring would begin upon his 8th nameday," Lady Sara stated, glancing around to check for servents or others. Fortunately, few would dare come when Vermithor was there, so they had complete privacy. "Princess Rhaenyra mentioned sending him to the Wall for a time so he may be a true knight that has not just seen tourneys and jousts."
"That would be a smart play," Lady Amanda agreed, nodding. "It would strengthen his ties to the North, and show them that a good King will sit the Iron Throne."
"Allies could be made as well, but . . ." Lady Annara hesitated. "Those that take the black are often criminals, would he be safe there?"
"I doubt they would send him without Vermithor. Besides, by that time he will be fully knighted," Lady Sara corrected.
"Good. Did anyone else think that Princess Rhaenyra seemed quite confident that it was a girl?"
"Confident enough to create a contract that would make her heir of the Vale," Lady Amanda said. Neither were surprised. "While the Vale is behind the Princess, this will give them something to hold. A Princess of their own, who will one day care for them as Princess Rhaenyra does."
They understood what the older woman truly meant. When King Viserys died there would be war, and having the Vale and the North securely behind Princess Rhaenyra and her children would tilt the scales in their favour.
Lady Jeyne Arryn stood at the balconey doors of Crown Princess Rhaenyra's quarters, cradling the newest Princess in her arms. Smiling down at the babe, she could not help but see the similarity in the babes face to Princess Daella's face from the portraits her Grandfather had commisioned that were found in several halls of the Eyrie.
"She's beautiful, your majesty," Lady Jeyne murmured, completely captivated. Crown Princess Rhaenyra smiled, leaning back against the headboard as her husband, Prince Laenor, carefully wiped her forehead of sweat with a cooled rag.
"Please, Lady Jeyne, we are cousins. You have my permission to call me Rhaenyra."
"Then you have mine to call me Jeyne, Rhaenyra."
Both women shared gentle smiles.
"Thank you, Rhaenyra. You have given me the Heir I have been so worried of giving," Lady Jeyne admitted sadly.
"If I am to understand it, the boy you would have been forced to name as heir is Arnold Arryn's son?" Prince Laenor asked, leaning forward.
"His nephew, through his sisters marriage to Jackson Redfort, my Lady Jessamyne's elder brother. As the second son of a second wife he has been raised modestly these past 4 years, but we shall see what kind of man he will grow into," Lady Jeyne stated, glancing towards the bedroom door. While she despised Arnolds Line, the boy was innnocent, as was his mother.
"And if he turns out like his Uncle?" Princess Rhaenyra asked, wincing as she shifted in the bed.
"Then your daughter will be free to pick any Valeman she wishes, as long as they understand that her children will take the name Arryn."
"Good."
"May I ask what you plan to name her?" Lady Jeyne asked.
"Ah yes, our apologies," Prince Laenor said, offering an awkward grin. "We have decided upon the name Alyssa, both for Alyssa Velaryon and Alyssa Targaryen as well as Alyssane Targaryen."
"A strong, beautiful name," Lady Jeyne agreed smiling down at little Alyssa. "Mo oidhre." The Old Language of the Vale flowed effortlessly from her tongue, making Alyssa coo in delight.
In the moonlight her red-gold hair shone softly, reminding Jeyne of spun gold in sunlight, where it glowed red. The soft curls covered her entire head, nearly hiding her beautiful blue-purple eyes.
"Cosúil leis an spéir roimh titim na hoíche." (Like the sky before nightfall.)
"When I have recovered, I wish to announce her to the Vale if possible."
"Of course. The Vale will know of my heir, of your daughter, Rhaenyra."
Three days had passed since Lady Jeyne Arryn had first held her heir, since Crown Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen had given birth but no one outside of the two, Prince Laenor Velaryon, and Crown Prince Jacaerys Targaryen knew of her name, so a feast was thrown.
Queen Alicent wore a velvet green dress with golden leaves sewed into the sleeves and skirts. The design of the dress was beautiful, but the itchy fabrics it was made of made it look less so. All three of her children originally accompanied her, but Princess Halaena cried starting Prince Aemond off so the two had to be taken back to the nursury.
Prince Aemond wore a doublet of the same itchy material, shown by how he constantly tugged at it and tried to take it off. His caretaker was struggling to keep him dressed, much to Queen Alicent's irritation but there was nothing she could do.
Lady Jeyne Arryn stood before them all, with King Viserys, Crown Princess Rhaenyra, and Prince Laenor at her sides. She wore a beautiful dress of blue and white, with fabric forming 'wings' that connected to her wrist using silver bracelets.
King Viserys and his daughter wore red and black, while Prince Laenor wore blue, green, and gold complememtimg each other quite nicely.
Much to her distaste, Queen Alicent had not been allowed up onto the dais where the Moonwood Throne sat.
"After hours of hardship, my daughter gave birth to her own daughter, another Princess for House Targaryen and House Velaryon," King Viserys announced.
Rhaenyra stepped forward with her husband, hand resting in the crook of his arm, "My daughter came when the moon had risen to its peak, and just as my eldest son was, she has been marked by the gods. I have been blessed, both in birth and in life, for this opportunity."
"For years you have all worried who would take the Lordship of the Vale, of the Arryns, upon my death," Lady Jeyne stated, bringing everyones attention to her. Queen Alicents heart dropped. "Through my grandfathers second wife, Princess Daella, and my aunt, the late Queen Aemma Arryn, I am cousin to Crown Princess Rhaenyra as she is mine. Through her, her daughter holds the blood of Arryns, so I have made my decision."
With a nod, Crown Princess Rhaenyra carefully placed her daughter in her cousins arms.
"Princess Alyssa Velaryon, shall take the name Arryn upon reaching her 6-and-10 nameday, where henceforth she shall reside here in the Vale. Upon her 7-and-10 nameday she shall marry Theodore Redfort who is an Arryn through his mother to strengthen my bloodline. Her children shall inherit the name Arryn. As such, I introduce you to Princess Alyssa Velaryon, Heiress to House Arryn, and Heir to the Vale!"
The crowd of Valeman erupted into cheers that seemed to shake the halls of the Eyrie until a roar truly shook the keep. Silence fell as everyone turned their gazes to the dais.
"Sil'wing wan' her rider," Crown Prince Jacaerys announced, pronouncing some of his words wrong but getting his point across.
"Then she will recieve her rider," Princess Rhaenyra stated, taking her daughter back into her arms. The enfire crowd followed the princess to the courtyard where the she-dragon had landed. The same place where Ronnel Arryn had taken his first flight upon the dragon, Vhagar.
Silverwing seemed to glimmer in the light of the setting sun, and many thought, upon seeing the she-dragon, that she would be a perfect match for the Princess of the Vale.
Lowering her head she crooned to her rider, earning a delighted burble.
And so Princess Rhaenyra took her daughter upon the dragoneses back and took to the skies as the Greens watches in anger and the Blacks watched on in awe and delight.
Princess Alyssa of House Velaryon, Third of Her Name, Heiress to House Arryn, Heir to the Vale, The Moonborn, Daughter of the Vale, She-Dragon of the Vale, She-Who-Was-Born-In-The-Night, the Peaceful, the Diligent, the Strategist, the Falcon of House Targaryen, rider of Silverwing, the Silver Queen, the Beautiful, the Pearl, the Protector of the Vale, had been born.
King of the Gods, God of Justice, Law, Order, and Governance.
Queen Alicent Hightower stood at the balconey of her apartments – the lavishly furnished Queens Apartments – eyes unfocused as she looked down towards Aemma's Garden, only recently finished by the wrokers sent by Lord Tyrell as a gift to the pregnant Crown Princess. From where she stood she could smell all the different flowers that lined the beautiful garden and surrounded a pavillion carved from the same white stone the Eyrie was made of.
She waited impatiently for news of Princess Rhaenyra's labors, praying to the Seven that she would have a girl, furthering Prince Aegons claim. The skin around her nails was torn to shreds with drops of blood falling to the stone beneath her feet, but she hardly noticed.
Surely King Viserys Targaryen, her husband and Princess Rhaenyra's father, would finally see the craven whore his daughter was after she birthed the bastard of Ser Harwin Strong. He had allowed her to run rampant, giving in to every whim and wish she had. Why just recently he had given her the Heir's apartments! Only slightly smaller than the Kings own apartments and far larger than her own, which was just disrespectful to her, the Queen! Princess Rhaenyra and her heathen husband now had an entire floor within Maegor's Holdfast to themselves and their 'household', while she only had a single corridor filled with rooms!
Aegon deserved to have the Heirs Apartments as the Kings Firstborn, not the Royal Whore of the Red Keep and her Sword-Swallowing husband!
But no matter how many people she told the truth, those who adored Rhaenyra gave her everything. Her Uncle, Prince Daemon the Whoremonger himself sent ships of men, servants, healers, and midwives, an entire household of those he had personally vetted as the letter that had accompanied them had boasted. Alongside those ships were those filled with jewels, cloth of all kinds from Essos, Pentos, and the Free Cities, toys for the babe, furniture of all kinds for Princess Rhaenyra's new Apartments all sent by Lady Laena, Prince Daemons wife.
Lord Corlys was much the same, sending for the most exotic fruits, vegetables, seafood, and meat his money could buy. King Viserys had not only gifted her the Heir's Apartments but everything the Late Queen Aemma had owned from dresses to jewels, leaving her, the true Queen who had done her duty, to buy new ones after all of hers had been taken. It was humiliating to have to buy an entire chest of jewelry!
Lady Jeyne Arryn had also sent gifts, including the stone for the pavilion, such as old items that belonged to Princess Daella Targaryen and Queen Aemma Arryn. She even sent objects that had once belonged to her grandfather, Rodrick Arryn, much to the shock of everyone.
The entirety of the North had sent her gifts as well, from furs to men, simply out of loyalty and of course the Tyrells had built the princess a garden that was then named after her mother, planting four Weirwood trees in the corners of the garden much to her displeasure.
Fortunately Princess Rhaenys seemed to realize that the child was a bastard and the Baratheons had followed her lead in not interacting with the couple outside of what was deemed respectable. She was oft seen conversing with her son, conversations that ended with him storming away in fury, after the Princess likely tried to convince him of his wifes sins. But the poor man was besotted. No man had ever doted over their wife the way Prince Laenor did.
A quiet knock pulled the Queen from her musings. The door opened allowing Ser Criston Cole, her loyal guard to poke his head inside, "It is Tayla. She says she was sent with word of the Princess' labors."
"Let her in, Ser Criston. I wish to hear the happy news," Queen Alicent stated, tucking her hands behind her back.
"Of course, Your Majesty."
Tayla hurried inside waiting for the door to close before speaking. "The Crown Princess has given birth to a boy, Your Grace."
Queen Alicent scowled for only a moment before smoothing her features back out. "Do you know how the Princess fares? Does she suffer the same as her mother, the late Queen, did? And the boy, tell me of his looks? Who does he resemble more, his mother, his father, a relative perhaps?"
"The Crown Princess is well, already up and moving from what I saw, Your Majesty. She refused the wetnurse the King offered, told everyone within that she would not let her son be fed by a stranger when she was right there with milk to spare," Tayla smiled at the memory of the Crown Princess. "And Crown Prince Jacaerys Targaryen is beautiful, My Queen. A perfect mix of his mother and father."
The smile fell from Queen Alicents lips, "What? What do you mean?!"
"The babe had the hair color of his mother but its curlier, I believe. And his eyes are from her too, but his skin color is more like his fathers. I was not close enough to see his facial features but I could hear Lord Velaryon and the King celebrating him."
Queen Alicent stared at the servent silently before commanding, "Take me to them. Now. I wish to meet the newest member of the Velaryon family." She made sure to emphasize the name Velaryon, believing the maid had mispoken but she did not correct her self.
"Of course, your Majesty. The Crown Princess has been taken back to her Apartments in order to rest." Tayla turned to lead the Queen to the Heir's Apartments as Ser Criston Cole fell into step behind her, white armor gleaming as his cloak fluttered dramatically.
The walk was considerably shorter than Queen Alicent expected but that did not make it anymore pleasant. The walls of the entire third floor of the Holdfast had Valyrian Tapestries depicting family members and their respective dragons, starting with Daenys the Dreamer. There were even Velaryon tapestries hung up, pictures of sea creatures of myths and legends that made Queen Alicent shudder.
The halls were lit with dragonglass latterns that threw beautiful patterns along the walls. The group of three passed by several members of Princess Rhaenyra's Household, including Lady Sara Snow, Lady Annara Celtigar, and Lady Mara Karstark.
The large black wood door at the end of the hallway had Syrax, the Princess' dragon carved into the wood and filled with gold, the large green emerald eye acting as the handle. Standing outside was Ser Harrold Westerling and Ser Arryk Cargyll, the Kings guard for the day, Ser Harwin Strong and Ser Erryk Cargyll, the Princess' Guard, as well as six other guards, Velaryon and Arryn based upon their armor were posted in the hallway.
Ser Strong opened the door, calling into the room, "Queen Consort Alicent of House Hightower." He stepped out of the way, eyeing Ser Cole, who was smirking haughtily.
They knew his secret.
Sweeping inside, Queen Alicent found Princess Rhaenyra resting upon a beautiful, cushioned chaise, her youngest lady, Lady Sera Dondarrion, working oils through her long, golden-white hair.
"Ahh, my dear Queen!" King Viserys called, sat upon an armchair with his grandson cradled within his arms. "You will be most delighted to see what the Gods have gifted my dear grandson!"
Her smile nearly fell, but she quickly plastered it back in place, "A gift from the Seven-Who-Are-One? I would be delighted, husband."
"Come, come," King Viserys said, using his head to gesture her over. Coming to stand at his side, purposefully displacing Lord Corlys, who ignored her to focus on his grandson, she looked down, fully expecting a carbon copy of Ser Harwin Strong, no matter the reports of Tayla.
Instead soft, thick, curly golden-white hair formed a halo upon his head, the sunlight that streamed through the window giving it a soft glow. Purple eyes, the same as Rhaenyra's down to the color and placement of the darker black specks, stared back at her though she noticed a strange sheen to them, seemingly giving them a golden tint when the sunlight them. Dark skin, though a few shades lighter than Prince Laenors or Lord Corlys', though it was likely that it would darken if he became a sailor like his grandfather and father.
"Look," Viserys murmured, lightly brushing back the curls piled onto his tiny forehead. In white lines upon his forehead, etched into his skin, was a crown with a strange rune in the very center.
"It means 'King'," Lord Corlys stated, smiling widely. "Its an Old Language, shared by the First Men, Valyrians, and Ghiscari. The last time I saw anything like it was while I was visiting Old Ghis."
Laenor rolled his eyes as the two dads shared a laugh, while the babe cooed, turning his attention to his father.
"Does he have a name?" Alicent asked, voice tense. A glance to Rhaenyra told her that she could hear the tone change and was amused by it.
"Prince Jacaerys Targaryen, First of His Name, and Heir to me, the Heir to the Irone Throne and Heiress to House Targaryen. Tonight we plan to announce him to all the Great Houses," Princess Rhaenyra stated, smile softening as she looked to her babe.
"I congratulate you, Princess. Your Mother must be looking down upon you in happiness for your success, from the Strangers Embrace," Queen Alicent said, trying to hide a sharp smirk as Rhaenyra's gaze flashed.
"Lady Helaena, your dearest Mother, one of my own dear mothers companion must be looking upon me favorably as well. It is a shame she left so young, but she lives on in the paintings you or your father must have. At least I can look upon the mirror and see my mother at times, but you, my lady, are the perfect imitation of your father," Rhaenyra grinned, teeth sharp and poised at the throat. Alicent nearly gaped at Rhaenyra, shocked by the low blow. The Princess knew she had no paintings of her mother because they were too expensive for a second son to afford.
"Thank you," Queen Alicent barely hid a snarl with a false smile. "My husband, I fear I must return to mine own chambers to ready myself for the feast tonight."
She pressed a kiss to his cheek to hide the hatred and anger she yearned to let them see.
"Of course, my dear. I shall see you tonight then." The king was far more focused on the babe than he was his wife, not even registering the kiss on his cheek.
Queen Alicent stalked outside, Ser Cristin quickly falling into step with one last look towards Ser Harwin.
How could Rhaenyra have said something so cruel! Her father was right. This was no longer her friend but her enemy. Aegon would take his rightful place upon the Throne. Viserys would eventually have to see the truth, that his daughter was unfut to rule, that women were unfit to be in places of such power.
From now on she had to begin finding allies for herself, especially now that her father was no longer the Kings trusted Hand and advisor. Her first act would have to be discrediting the rumors that were sure to appear once people saw the birthmark upon Prince Jacaerys' forehead.
Nearly flinging her door open she ordered the servent within to find her best green dress. The maid bowed and scurried into the adjacent chamber to find one while other servents were called to bath her.
For two hours she allowed herself to be pampered, both in the bath and outside it, before allowing the servents to carefully lace up the beautiful generald green dress with tight sleeves, a high neckline, and beautiful green detailing around the bust and waist, emphasizing her small figure. After Aemond she had easily dropped the added pregnancy weught, something she doubted Rhaenyra would be able to do.
Queen Aemma had always looked swelled, or unhealthy and it wouldn't surprise her if Rhaenyra was the same.
Crown Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen smiled as Cylia and Morgana Strong carefully aided her towards her bathing chamber, where a steaming bath awaited. Maester Mellos, who the King had allowed in after Queen Alicents departure, had tried to insist that a hot bath was unhealthy but the healer had disregarded that. Apparently the woman had helped Saera Targaryen give birth several times and the older woman always felt better after a steaming bath. It was a Targaryen thing, she said.
Rhaenyra could see the different herbs one of the other healers had added and could not help but ask, "What kind of herbs are in here?" She sank into the water with a near moan, muscles relaxing.
"Yarrow to reduce swelling, lemon balm to keep fevers and sickness at bay, and witch hazel to help the healing process," Healer Ana answered, carrying over a cup of tea. "Your grace, I suggest drinking nettle tea for the next three days in order to quicken the healing process. It shall also aid in milk production to make your son grow quicker and healthier."
Nodding, Rhaenyra took the tea, relieved at the warmth that slid down her throat. Luckily it had been sweetened by honey and the slightest bit of milk so she could ignore the bitter tasting liquid easier. "Thank you."
"Of course."
She was happy to note that Healer Ana had remembered her decision to breastfeed Jacaerys herself, rather than passing him off to a wet nurse as most did. Her and Laenor had agreed that they could not trust anyone, so it would be safer, and seemingly healthier according to the midwives, for him to feed from her.
For a good hour she soaked, drinking several cups of tea during the time, as Morgana and Cylia painted her nails a beautiful dark red, a very expensive shade her goodsister had sent her. Once the water had cooled, she was dried and dressed in a plain towel so Sera could braid her hair in a simple crown.
The dress she chose was black with red and gold trim, long draping sleeves filled with soft fur, made in the Northern style. It had been a gift from Lord Rickon Stark and his young son, Cregan Stark, and one she quite adored. Pulling it on, she admired the softness as she swept out of her dressing room, finding all three men still cooing over little Jacaerys.
"Father, Goodfather, I believe you the feast will be beginning in an hour," Rhaenyra said, smiling at the slight panic both men obviously felt.
"Ahh, you're right, my dear," Viserys pressed a kiss against her cheek as his eldest gently took Jacaerys. "I shall see you tonight for the feast."
"As will I. You did well, my son," Lord Corlys stated, clapping Laenor on the shoulder. He gave his father a strained smile, escorting the two from her Apartments, before nearly slumping against the door.
"I can not believe him sometimes. Did you see his face when we introduced Jacaerys?!"
"Did you see the Queens? She looked as if she sucked a lemon when she saw our little boy."
Laenor laughed, vividly remembering the shocked look upon her face, as well as the look on her face when she saw his marking.
"I must admit, I was surprised by the marking as well. I know Arrax told us he would lay claim upon his . . . our? . . . son, but I did not realize it would be so visible," Laenor admitted, lightly brushing his fingers over Jacaerys' forehead, smiling at the quiet coo.
"It is a boon either way. The servents, healers, and midwives that were present during the birth will gossip, and after tonight, when all the Lords and Ladies we invited see it they will know that Jacaerys is my rightful heir. The Greens will see that he is no bastard, that he is more Valyrian than the Queens half-breed children."
Laenor grinned, pressing a kiss against her cheek. "I love when you get all viscious. Unfortunate that I must depart from my beautiful lady wife and handsome little boy to dress myself for tonight's feast." He pressed another kiss to her lips to further seal the act, having noticed Sera emerge from her dressing room, before taking his leave.
The Great Hall was beautifully decorated with tables made of oak holding dragonglass vases filled with flowers, red, black, sea-green, and silver silks across the tables. Every seat was filled, with every Great House having arrived within the last two weeks and several smaller Houses having been invited as well.
House Hightower, House Redwyne, House Lannister, and House Bracken all wore green, whether it was a dress, jewelry, or a doublet. Everyone else within the hall wore black alongside their House colors, filling the hall with an array of colors.
House Targaryen and House Velaryon sat at the largest long table situated at the front of the hall, with nearly all of them in attendance. Princess Rhaenys, who had yet to be introduced to her grandson, had a pinched look upon her face, much to Ser Otto Hightowers delight.
It was very obvious to everyone that she thought, knew, that Prince Laenor and Crown Princess Rhaenyra's newbirn son was a bastard, likely begotten by Ser Harwin Strong.
The doors swung open, "Announcing Crown Princess Rhaenyra of House Targaryen, Heir to the Iron Throne, Heiress to the House of Targaryen, Future Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, and her husband, Prince Laenor Velaryon, Heir to Driftmark, High Tide, and to the House of Velaryon, Future King Consort to Crown Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen."
The announcer did not give the name of the babe swaddled in Prince Laenors arms, giving the Royal Family that opportunity to officially announce him and his titles.
"My dearest daughter," King Viserys called, standing from his seat at the head of the table. "Lords and Ladies of the Realm, I must say today is a glorious day for the combined Targaryen-Velaryon. My heir has had her own heir and secured her lineage."
"Thank you, father. Thank you, Lords and Ladies, for traveling so far to be here with us on this joyous occasion. While I am before you tonight I wish to address the rumors about the birth of my son," Crown Princess Rhaenyra stated, holding herself with grace. Prince Laenor eyed the Hightowers who were all sharing small sneers with each other.
"Yesterday afternoon my wife began her labors within the Throne Room, before giving birth to my son early this morning in the shadow of the Iron Throne," Prince Laenor announced, fighting back a smirk when the sneers dropped and everyone one began whispering.
"Now, I would like to introduce our son. Crown Prince Jacaerys Targaryen, Heir to the Heiress of House Targaryen, and Heir to the Heir of the Iron Throne, Future King of the Seven Kingdoms!"
The Blacks cheered for their future Queen and King as Crown Princess Rhaenyra tilted her son towards the crowd, showing them his curly golden-whitr hair and dark skin.
"Now please, feast! Celebrate!" Laenor shouted, earning even louder cheers as the two rounded the table to sit down.
"Laenor," Rhaenys murmured, purple eyes boring into her gooddaughters head. "Princess Rhaenyra."
"Mother," Laenor greeted coldly, not even deigning to look at his mother. She glared at her son, making to speak before Corlys cut her off.
"Rhaenys," Corlys began, keeping his voice low. "Just hold the boy for a moment."
"I refuse."
Laenors muscles locked in place, grey-purple ryes flashing with fire. Rhaenyra knew that if they had been closer to the Dragon Pit they'd be able to hear Seasmokes roars of fury.
"Then I believe its high time you return to Driftmark, Princess Rhaenys," Laenor snarled, viciously stabbing a clam upon his plate. "I will not have my son mocked, I will not let you give the Greens fuel to attack my wife and son. So if you are going to act like a petty child than I do not desire to have your company during this celebration, nor does my wife or son."
Rhaenys and Corlys both gaped at their son as Rhaenyra smiled, placing a hand on the crook of his arm and pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. "I thank you, husband mine."
"Laenor . . ." Rhaenys hesitated when she saw the look in her sons eyes. "Fine. Let me see the babe."
Rhaenyra was reluctant to pass over her son to the woman who had been the source of several of their problems recently but she did. Jacaerys settled in his grandmothers arms, only opening his arms once he was comfortable.
Staring down at the babe that looked so similar to Laenor as a babe, Rhaenys could not help the wave of guilt that flowed through her. "Laenor, Rhaenyra, I–"
The deep gutteral bellow of a dragon made the castle shake, scaring the guests within the hall. Wives reached for husbands as men reached for blades, looking around wildly.
"That . . . Is that not Vermithor?" Corlys questioned, standing from his seat. King Viserys sought to calm the people but another riar from the Bronze Fury only stirred them up more.
Jacaerys cooed, purple eyes gleaning as he was taken back into his mothers arms. Looking down Rhaenyra found the same love she felt for Syrax, the same she saw reflected in Laenors eyes whenever he saw or spoke of Seasmoke, and she knew.
"SILENCE!" Laenor commanded, having recognized what was happening as well. "Vermithor is not here to attack, but to claim his rider."
Crown Princess Rhaenyra swept from the Great Hall, heading towards the courtyard that Vermithor would have to land in if he wished to fit.
The Bronze Fury was stunning with scales of beaten bronze and copper, red-bronze spikes around his narrow face and along his spine seemed to shine in the light of the setting sun.
Hundreds of people, nobility and smallfolk alike, were witness to Vermithor meeting Crown Prince Jacaerys Targaryen before allowing Prince Laenor and his rider upon his back for a flight around King's Landing. There was no possible way for Otto to manipulate the circumstances to better serve him. Everyone would know what had happened that day.
Crown Prince Jacaerys of House Targaryen, First of His Name, Heir to the Heir of the Iron Throne, Heir to the Heiress of House Targaryen, the Born King, the Divine Ruler, He Who Was Born in the Shadow of the Iron Throne, the Lawful, the Bringer of Justice, the Judge, the Rider of Vermithor, the Bronze Fury, the King's Mount, had been born.
Ruler of the Gods
God of Law, Order, Justice, and Governance
Married to Meleys
Aegarax's younger brother
Father of Shrykos and Syrax
Queen of the Gods
Goddess of Love, Fertility, Childbirth, and Marriage
Married to Arrax
Mother of Shrykos and Syrax
God of Creation
Married to Tessarion
Father of Gaelithox
Arrax's older brother
Goddess of Music, Arts, Knowledge, Prophecy, Healing, and Poetry
Brother of Vermax and Vermithor
Married to Aegerax
Father of Gaelithox
God of the Sun, Stars, and Moon
3 children
Goddess of Wine, Parties, Chaos, Drunkeness, and Ecstacy
Goddess of Beginnings, Endings, Transitions, and Doorways
Wife of Balerion
Mother of Morghul and Ābrar
God of Death
King of the Underworld
Husband of Shrykos
Father of Mirghul and Ābrar
Goddess of the Sky
Sister-wife to Caraxes
God of the Sea
Brother-husband to Meraxes
God of Boundaries, Travel, Writing, Communication, Language, and Trade
Brother of Tessarion
Brother-husband of Vermithor
God of Smiths, Crafts, and Artisans
Brother of Tessarion
Brother-husband of Vermithor
Goddess of War, Weapons, and Battle Strategy
Sister of Tyraxes
Goddess of Reason, Peace, Intelligence, and Skill
Sister of Vhagar
God of Souls
Bringer of Death
Brother of Ābrar
God of Life
Watcher of People
Brother of Morghul
Goddess of Blood Magic, Sacrifices, and Woman
Sister-wife to Pera
Goddess of Fire Magic, Fire, Funerals, and Pyres
Sister-wife to Ānora
God of Silver, Steel, and Coal
Husband of Āeksion
Goddess of Gold, Jewels, and Finery
Wife of Korzion
Goddess of Building, Carving, Masonry, and Architecture
Rhaenyra cursed Rickon for putting her through this again but the man simply held her hand and murmured reassurances. Laenor nor Daemon seemed able to handle the birthing room and neither Laena nor Rhaenys would make it in time. She screamed as another of pain hit her just in time for the castle to shake beneath the weight of a dragon.
Her eyes snapped open as Rickon cursed, reaching for the sword that was normally at his hip but had been forced to leave outside. The guards shouted at the door as the midwives panicked.
Rhaenyra's eyes drifted towards the window where a large yellow eye stared back, watching her. She screamed as another wave hit her and the oldest midwife rushed towards her to support her as she panicked.
It took another three hours for her next son to be born, with the dragon outside watching her the entire time.
When he was finally placed back in her arms, no longer bloodied, the dragon outside rumbled focus completely on the newly named Cregan Stark, Heir to Winterfell. It was then that Rhaenyra knew what she had to do.
Using her strength, she climbed out of the birthing bed, with Rickon supporting her while the Midwives fretted over her. He helped get her outside, with a retinue of knights and midwives at their back though they all froze when they found Vermithor perched on the castle, watching them wuth those yellow eyes.
Slowly, Rhaenyra approached him as he lowered his massive head to the walkway. His eye though was on the babe in her eyes as a low croon came from his throat.
Cregan gurgled, delighted as his tiny hands waved towards the huge, spiky dragon. Vermithor slowly leaned forward until the babe could slap a chubby hand against his nose, earning a squeal of genuine excitement from Cregan.
Her heart warmed even as her entire body ached from the pains of labors. Her son had claimed the Bronze Fury, dragon of King Jaehaeris himself.
omg a few days ago I was googling if Vermithor and Silverwing were mates, and the answer that came up said something like, they are together just like their riders. And I was like wait. When do Ulf and Hugh get married??😭😭
Vermithor smiling at Hugh after murdering a bunch of people☠️