Chapter 22: Chapter 17

Notes:

Sorry for the wait, everyone! Work has been pushing me to my limit, and one of my writing instruments (i.e. my arm) is still sore from the Pfizer shot. But, duty calls, and the chapter is finally done!

Chapter Text

I shook myself awake as I heard the call of birds outside my window. I'd fallen asleep at my desk again, and my candle wick needed to be fixed again from burning out. I stood up and stretched, before closing the book on my desk and picking it up. Quietly, I made my way down the stairs of the Stone Drum to the library, and placed the book back where I'd found it. I wonder if I could put in something like call numbers… meh, I have better things to work on, I can deal with unorganized collections of books.

Once the book was in place, I made my way out to the garden. It was at least a bit light out, so I laid in the grass and stared into the sky, watching the clouds drifect by. This way, I could drift off and collect my thoughts.

I wasn't sure what had changed from the canon story. Some ripples had to have happened, but things were happening too close to the stations of canon for the butterfly effect to have happened fully, so the train clearly hadn't been completely derailed yet. This meant my future knowledge wasn't completely useless, but still meant it wasn't 100% reliable. I had to play everything by ear.

Case in point— Mysaria's pregnancy. It happened canonically around this time as well, but I was unsure how similar it was to that pregnancy… and how tragically it had ended. And it also carried with it it's own implications. I knew Father had always wanted an heir… he settled for me now, but if he got another child from Mysaria, whose heritage was undoubtedly Valyrian, he might not need to settle anymore.

Even still, I wasn't quite callous enough to let a baby die for things that might happen. I couldn't let another family member die, not after my cousin. Now if only my dreams behaved; at least then I might have some idea of what to expect. But no, the only dreams I'd gotten since arriving on Dragonstone was a horde of cattle charging down a blizzard.

I wasn't even going to try and interpret that one. It felt like the gods were mocking me. After several minutes of staring up at the sky, I stood up and made my way back into the castle. It would be about time for breakfast, and I knew a request to share it with my father wouldn't be denied. I quickly gave my request to one of the passing servants, who gave a nod and ran off up the stairs, as I swiftly returned to my room for two servants to bathe and dress me. From my reflection in the glass, I looked every bit the Targaryen princeling, with the exception of my muddy hair. I carefully directed my hair so that the silver-white strand was displayed prominently, before I turned and made my way to Father's chambers, further up the tower. As I made my way up, another servant told me that Father was expecting me in his solar. Slowly, I made my way to the door and entered.

Father sat at the table, inspecting a letter, before tossing it up the table and looking at me. "Corlys has finally received his Bride Price," he said. "It was as your dream said— they had the three eggs, and with suitable flattery and agreements, he has handed them over. This comes dangerously close to treason, rather unlike you," he finished. I rolled my eyes with a scoff and sat down.

"And what did we have to give them? The hand in marriage of a girl and free transit for Braavosi vessels?" I asked rhetorically. "The Sealord is incredibly stupid. Those three were worth far more than any wealth he could amass for himself. And now he's given up his only leverage on Uncle, as well." After a moment, Father relaxed and leaned back.

"You wouldn't have come here dressed like that for just a small update on dreams," he observed. "What is it, Lucerys? Arms training resumes tomorrow, and dragonflight training resumes the following day." I gripped my tunic, sitting down like a scolded child.

"Lady Mysaria is with child," I said. "You… you always wanted a pure child," I finally stuttered out. "I'm a mixed-blood… not fully Valyrian, and my hair shows it!" I pulled at it as something cracked. All my plans fell apart as my emotions washed over me. "You'll love my new brother or sister more, and I won't be needed if it's a boy. You'll have your pure Valyrian son," I said, pouring everything into it. "I won't be needed anymo-"

I was interrupted by a hand on my shoulder. I looked up as Father stood there, his eyes boring into mine.

"You truly believe that?" he asked, his face a strange combination of offense and sadness. I put my hands on Father's, looking up at him even as my vision blurred, and nodded.

"I heard you yelling about Uncle Viserys polluting the bloodline, when you received the letter of his betrothal," I bit out. "How am I different?" Father didn't respond. Of course he didn't. Having your own cognitive dissonances pointed out, especially with regards to racism, isn't something anyone could enjoy. "It's always about Valyria, how they were better, when you speak. You regard my dalliances with Westerosi culture with disinterest at best, and even now we speak in High Valyrian!" I yelled out. "What makes my blood any less dirty than a child Alicent will give birth to?" I asked quietly, in the Common Tongue. Still no answer. I gave an annoyed sigh and shoved his hand from my shoulder, before turning to leave.

As I stepped away, my wrist was grabbed suddenly, and I was pulled back to facing Father. "You will not be replaced," he bit out, in his own accented Common. "You are my son. The blood of Otto Hightower is a blight on the Royal House. Yours is not. The blood of your mother," he forced out, "is not. You are a dragon. You ride a dragon. The child Mysaria carries will be a younger sibling. You are my eldest." His face finally relaxed a moment.

"All children do this," he said. "They fear their new sibling will make their parents forget them." My entire mind froze for a moment. Wait, what? "I was the same, as was Viserys, when Mother was pregnant with our brother, Aegon." That… no, that isn't why… it's not… it can't be… right? No, it's because of the kind of racist things he said, it has to be. "Viserys spent long spells worried that Father wouldn't love him anymore once the new baby arrived, since he was older, unlike when I was born. That changed as mother died, but we were still loved as much as before." I… was that it? It… no, I'm not… am I really that much of a child? I looked away, my face flushing with embarrassment.

"You're still my son, my eldest, and always will be," Father said. "Mysaria's child will be your brother or sister." I nodded, zoning out. Images of how I'd grown up with Rhaenyra flashed through my mind, as I became utterly lost in my memories.

The next thing I remembered was sitting on my bed, deep into the night, staring past the window, at the stars overhead, my vision blurry from tears. I carefully made my way to the window and looked up. The night sky overhead, as observant and barely changing as ever. I wondered if there were other gods up there, judging me, or just watching for laughs. Probably a bit sadistic, the latter, but most gods were probably sadists at heart… even discounting the fact that Cthulhu and Nyarlathotep were actively worshipped here, with Kadath, Leng, Carcosa all being real as well.

And here I was, a small child, having a mental freakout about a younger sibling being loved more than me. At least, even if the entire world was fucked up, the stars looked neat, joined together like a river in the sky; mayhaps this world's equivalent of the Milky Way?