1 Misfortune of a Daughter
As the first century of the Targaryen dynasty came to a close, the health of the Old King, Jaehaerys, was failing. In those days, House Targaryen stood at the height of its strength with 10 adult dragons under its yoke. No power in the world could stand against it. King Jaehaerys reigned over nearly 60 years of peace and prosperity. But tragedy had claimed both his sons, leaving his succession in doubt. So, in the year 101, the Old King called a Great Council to choose an heir. Over a thousand lords made the journey to Harrenhal. Fourteen succession claims were heard but only two were truly considered: Princess Rhaenys Targaryen, the King's eldest descendant, and her younger cousin, Prince Viserys Targaryen, the King's eldest male descendant. Rhaenys, a woman, would not inherit the Iron Throne. The lords instead chose Viserys... our father. Jaehaerys called the Great Council to prevent a war being fought over his succession. For he knew the cold truth.
The only thing that could tear down the House of the Dragon... was itself.
≿━━━━༺❀༻━━━━≾
≿━━━━༺❀༻━━━━≾
𝕾ince birth, Alaenna had been stuck to her mother's hip. Her original constitution kept her bound to the care of the Septas and her mother. The close proximity to her mother meant that she had seen her through most pregnancies, each time becoming more and more capable of helping without any formal education. Her heart truly ached for her mother as her condition worsened after each babe. This one would be her mother's last, whether her father wanted it to be or not. Making her mother as comfortable as she could be was her highest priority. "Ah... Rhaenyra." Aemma sat up slightly to greet her oldest. "You know I don't like you to go flying while I'm in this condition."
"You don't like me to go flying while you're in any condition, "Rhaenyra whined in response. "You'll have no luck convincing her mother," Aleanna chimed, earning a smile from her sister.
"Your Grace." Alaenna had barely noticed Alicent arrive with her sister. The girl had always had such a meek presence that it always seemed overcast by the bright Rhaenyra. In her younger years, she had tried to become playmates with the Hightower girl with little success. She didn't know if it had been the age gap of nearly seven years or Otto Hightower deeming her a side piece that simply came with Rhaenyra. Even despite her sister's attempts at inclusion, the awkward tension never seemed to be worth the effort of trying.
"Good morrow, Alicent," Aemma greeted, primarily out of protocol. While she favored the Hightower for her friendship with her daughter, she never failed to notice the general discomfort that overcame her youngest with Alicent in the room.
"Did you sleep?" "I slept." Alaenna had given Rhaenyra a knowing look. Their mother rarely slept nowadays out of pain, but the maester had refused to provide her with any actual relief for fear of "harming the babe.""How long?""I don't need mothering, Rhaenyra. Your sister does enough of it," She gave a pointed stare to the girl who had been massaging her legs and feet for the past 20 minutes. "Well, you are surrounded by attendants, all focused on the babe. Someone has to attend to you."
"They never listen, mother. Especially not to us. Had I been a man, they would have been replaced already; they-" Aemma grabbed both daughters' hands' in a warm but tight hold. "You will lie in this bed soon enough, Rhaenyra, Aleanna," She looked between them." This discomfort is how we serve the realm."
"I'd rather serve as a knight and ride to battle and glory," Alaenna and her mother laughed.
"We have royal wombs, the three of us. The child bed is our battlefield," Her tone was sad for a moment. Perhaps the children she had lost had made it so. Alaenna had never known the brother she'd shared a womb with, but her mother had. Each babe was known so personally that she practically predicted how they'd be as children. For most, that stage never came, lost so early that the time taken to know them had been for naught. She only prayed for the safety of her daughters, which meant never truly letting them see how hard it was.
"We must learn to face it with a stiff lip. Now take a bath; you stink of dragon. And you," Aemma released Alaenna's hand, "rest some, my little flower." Both girls stood from their stools, Aleanna pressing a kiss to her mother's forehead before following Rhaenyra.
≿━━━━༺❀༻━━━━≾
When Rhaenyra first became a cupbearer at age eight, Alaenna was immediately put on the back burner regarding her involvement in politics. Many lords, including the king's hand, found it unnecessary to have two young girls. Thus when council meetings were called, Alaenna had always been found elsewhere, simply waiting for her sister's return. Like clockwork, Rhaenyra always found her in whatever nook she had tucked herself in; where Rhaenyra went, Ser Harrold was never far behind.
Currently, they were on their way toward the throne room. It was rarely used lest large banquets or ceremonies were being held, yet their uncle Daemon had found himself on the tightrope that was treason. Daemon had scared her when she was a child; his loud jester-like personality was simply too much for a girl confined to certain areas of the keep. Perhaps he had noticed, his gifts for Rhaenyra had turned into gifts for the two of them. His journeys intrigued her the most as this freedom came with being a dragon rider. She had yet to claim one as her own, being that her cradle-mate had never hatched.
"He passed through the Red Keep's gates at first light," Ser Harrold held the girls at the large doors."Does my father know he's here?" "No." "Good," Rhaenyra smiled. She always seemed to glow when around their uncle. They were of the same cut in Alaenna's eyes. Two true dragons, the elder and the younger. As they walked in, they found sat comfortably upon the iron throne."Gods be good." Ser Harrold remained in the doorway as the girls began their descent down the small half-stairs. "It's all right, ser."
"what are you doing, uncle?" Rhaenyra had seamlessly slipped into High Valyrian. Alaenna followed closely behind, her light pink dress trailing behind her. She and Rhaenyra stood at the same height, walking toward their uncle.
"Sitting. This could very well be my chair one day."
"Not if you're executed for treason, dear uncle," Alaenna interrupted from behind. Daemon gave her an amused glance. He hadn't been allowed to visit in some time, always sent off somewhere by the cunt his brother called his hand. "You haven't come to court in an age." Both girls stood dutifully in front of the throne, just below the steps.
"Aye. Court is so dreadfully boring." Alaenna could understand where he came from, being the youngest. In most cases, they had more freedom; Alaenna was just an unfortunate exception. "Why come back at all, then?" Rhaenyra began leading the conversation again. "I heard your father was hosting a tournament in my honour.""The tournament is for his heir." "Just as I said" His conceited smile apparent.
"His new heir.""Until your mother brings forth a son, you're all cursed with me." "Then we shall hope for a brother" Rhaenyra mockingly smiled, her sister's hand gently grasped within her own. Alaenna couldn't help but notice the soft jingling coming from Daemon's hand as he walked down the throne's steps.
"Aye... Mm... I bought you something." He held out his hand, displaying two necklaces coated in dark metal. Each is adorned with red jewels, signifiers of the Targaryen house colours. Alaenna, incredibly intrigued, stood closer, gently grasping one in her hands, pouring over the craftsmanship." Do you know what it is?"Rhaenyra and Daemon smiled at the girl's brightened reaction, her entrancement so deep that she hadn't even looked up from them.
"It's Valyrian steel. Like Dark Sister." Rhaenyra answered. Daemon snatched the jewelry from Alaenna's gentle hands.
"Turn around," he commanded. Alaenna looked toward her sister, wondering if she'd get the gratification of going first. The wordless smile on Rhaenyra's face said enough as she turned. Rhaenyra's hand brushed against her nape, collecting her hair. Alaeanna never typically wore necklaces, which occasionally got caught in her curlier hair.
Daemon's hand came around the front of her neck, leaving a gentle trace as he smoothed the necklace into place. Her hand came to grasp the front of it, her fingers sliding over the subtle but bright stones embedded into it. Daemon then moved behind Rhaenyra as she pulled her hair to the side. Their necklaces were in contrast. While Rhaenyra was made of linked chains and sharp gem lines, hers was smooth with embedded spaced gems.
"Now... the three of us own a small piece of our ancestry." Ser Harrold, standing guard outside the doors, alerted the blissful Targaryen with a loud groan from the door.
"Princess, the Queen, is requesting your presence," it was not atypical for her mother to call on her throughout the day to keep tabs on her wellbeing. Her fragility as a child had made such a pattern so. Growing age and maturity had made it less reasonable for septas to escort Alaenna through the halls. "I'll be there in just a moment Ser Harrold."
Alaenna gently grabbed her uncle's hands, "I cannot tell you what this means to me in words; thank you truly, uncle." She released them and placed a soft peck on her sister's cheek before walking towards the great doors.
"She's grown in the time I've been gone," the two watched as she walked away from them. Rhaenyra moved her gaze fleetingly to her uncle's face, noticing a gleam in his eyes before turning her attention back. "Of course she has; we're not little girls anymore." Daemon, amused, looked down at his elder niece, "Keep her out of that green cunt's, grasping hands, will you." He grazed her shoulder before walking away.
