49 Chapter 49

Chapter 49

AENYS TARGARYEN

Aenys Targaryen stood in front of the window, watching the darkening sky as the maids and servants cleaned the Hall after the wedding. The wedding proceedings after Daemon's interruption had carried on with a certain unease.

Daemon had somehow flown here on his dragon, using the evening cover to reach the Vale to make a scene. Truth was, he often wondered what went on in his mind when he did such things. He had always known of Daemon's penchant for violence, yet now he had become unhinged. It was as if he had lost his ability to think.

His actions here tonight had caused great strife for everyone, destroying what was to be a joyous occasion for the Kingdom of the Vale.

And then was the matter of his announcement of securing a match between himself and Lady Laena. And if such a thing were true, the implications behind it would not be lost to the people of the realm.

With this match, battle lines would be drawn, and what was once an impending scenario would now become a reality, for with House Velaryon's support, Daemon's bid at the throne would transform itself from a pipe dream to a tangible goal.

"So, it seems that the rumors were true," Jeyne Arryn's voice cut the silence from behind. The whole was empty, apart from the servants and two other people apart from him, including Lady Jeyne and Rhaenyra.

He glanced back and walked towards the table where the two ladies sat, taking the seat beside his niece as he put down his wine glass.

"What rumors?" he questioned and saw Lady Jeyne pick up her own glass and take a sip as she looked him in the eye.

"That there is a new contender for the Crown," she replied, making Rhaenyra tighten her fists as both of them glanced at each other, still contemplating how to respond to such a comment.

"Don't insult my intelligence by claiming otherwise. At this point, the whole realm can see the writing on the wall. Moreover, Prince Daemon's actions since his return from his campaign in the Stepstones have been anything but subtle," she said as she took another sip, and he leaned back as he nodded.

"You are right. Daemon indeed wishes to see himself crowned the King of the Seven Kingdoms," Aenys confirmed her suspicion, for she was right. Daemon's actions had been anything but subtle.

"And let me guess. He plans to call for a Council to settle the succession just as the one called by King Jaehaerys," she continued, and he nodded again, for there was no use in trying to lie when she already had read the situation to near perfection.

And it would also make their life a bit easier.

"And if he does so, can Rhaenyra count on your support," he went straight to the point and saw both the women look at him, slightly surprised at the direct nature of his question.

Jeyne narrowed her eyes as she glanced towards her cousin and nodded.

"Of course, the House of Arryn will stand with you," she said, and he saw Rhaenyra give him a look before she gave the woman a small nod.

He still hadn't made up his mind regarding replacing Rhaenyra's position, for doing so didn't feel right to him. Yet, as the lady of the Vale turned to face him.

"However, as you may be aware, many of the lords sworn to me dispute my own succession, tending to favor my cousin. And given the pirate attacks, I cannot speak for them," she said, sounding troubled and hurt at the mention of her cousin. From the rumors he had heard, she and Ronnel Arryn had been close prior to the blooming of his ambition.

"But you are their liege lord…. I mean lady," Rhaenyra cut in and corrected herself when she realized her words.

Jeyne looked towards her with a saddened expression.

"I am, yet twice now, my own kin have risen up against as it plans to do so for you, princess. And though it may hurt you to hear it, despite Prince Daemon's nature and actions, he will find support, a lot of support just because he was born a boy," and it seemed as though the two rebellions had taught the lady of several important lessons.

"The lords of the realm have already rejected the opportunity of having a Queen, and many shall do so again even if the choice opposite to you may seem like a madman," she said, and he saw Rhaenyra's lips thin as she glanced down and added.

"I know that now," Rhaenyra added as her fists balled up.

"And now, if we are to believe his words, he is to marry Lord Corlys's sole daughter, hence bolstering his cause with Velaryon blood and coin," the lady of the Vale added.

He felt that that was enough negativity for the time being, and he was about to cut in when Rhaenyra cut in from the side in a cold voice.

"And what if it wasn't a Princess standing opposite to him in the Council…." and he stilled and tried to halt her.

"Rhaeny…." But she continued.

"What if the choice was between a tyrant and Healer," she finished, and he watched those blue orbs widen as her head snapped towards him, and he sighed as he saw that mind racing as she spoke up.

"Now, that would be very interesting," she added in a surprised tone, and he leaned back as she shook his head.

"I have not agreed to it yet," he cut in before this could go on any further.

"Why not?" she was quick to question.

"Replacing Rhaenyra, who is my own niece, does not sit right with me," he told her, and it seemed that the answer surprised her a bit, as she gave him a complicated glance before turning towards Rhaenyra by his side.

"And Princess, if I may ask, why would you propose such a thing yourself?" she questioned and he saw Rhaenyra glance down as she began speaking in sad tone.

"For this is the best decision for the realm, if the vote in the Council is equal or somewhat even the whole realm would bleed and the whole kingdom could be embroiled in a civil war," she began as she glanced towards him before looking forward at the Lady of the Vale.

"I do not want thousands to bleed because me, and if i must sacrifice the Throne to stop this massacre then I am willing to make that sacrifice…." she said resolutely, and his eyes narrowed as her hand inched towards her, own torso, making him still momentarily.

"…for myself and for this realm," she finished.

What she had described was the pretense of the Dance itself. And could he prevent it? Could he replace her and prevent all that death and destruction by replacing her? And if so, should he?

And what of the implications of his other suspicion, he continues to think as he continues to glance towards Rhaenyra's hand on her torso, his mind racing.

"No matter what happens in the future, Princess," Jeyne began as she picked up her cup and ripped it to Rhaenyra.

"Know this that you are more a King than Prince Daemon could ever hope to be, or as I should say, Queen," she said as she gave her a small bow as she reached for her hand, and kiss it gently.

And then she turned to face him.

"And as for you, my Prince. It is noble of you that you are apprehensive about this, yet you must make a decision, for she is right. If the Council's vote is close, or god forbid there is even a chance that Prince Daemon could emerge victorious, then you must step forward and honor the Princess's sacrifice," she began.

"For I can assure you, if it were you facing Prince Daemon in the Council, he would lose it as many times as it is called."

He knew that. Seven! He knew that! Yet despite everything, it didn't seem right to him, and as he glanced at Rhaenyra by his side, he narrowed his gaze at the position of her hands. She had told me many reasons for this, many reasons, yet it still felt that there was something more.

0000

ALICENT HIGHTOWER

Alicent Hightower was feeling tired. She had been running around the Red Keep since dawn, overseeing the preparation for the upcoming wedding. This wasn't usually a task for someone of her station, yet with the death of Queen Aemma, she was the closest person to Rhaenyra and had been happy to do this for her.

"Yes, that material is fine, but I want to see more designs, something which is less gaudy than this," she said as she showed the head seamstress the sample she had brought.

The older woman nodded as she took the cloth from her and moved along as the next person rushed in, and so it continued and continued until the Sun began to dip and the darkness began to cast its own net across the vast sky.

And it was only the evening that she found herself enough time to sit back as she leaned back on the chair, closing her eyes and trying to rest when she heard another knock on the door.

TAK. TAK. Tak.

And just as she was about to berate this person for disturbing her, a rather familiar voice from outside cut in.

"You awake in there, sister," it was her brother and the groom-to-be, Gwayne.

"Yes," she replied, straightening up a bit and watched as the door to her room opened up and her brother walked in, looking nearly as exhausted as herself, well it was not a surprise for he had his own set of tasks to accomplish.

"You look quite haggard," she said with a smile and saw him roll his eyes as he plopped down in the empty chair beside her and huffed.

"And Seven am I! I never knew getting married was such a hassle. I can't even understand how your lord husband managed to do this all by himself," he said, and she smiled.

"Speaking of that, this should be a bit easier for you after all. You did all this before," and she shook her head as he frowned.

"Not exactly," she replied, recalling her own wedding. It had been nearly just as elaborate, if not more so, given the cultural differences between Braavos and Westeros, and despite the perilous ending, she had some fond memories from that day, recalling the sheer amount of effort Aenys had expended for it.

"Aenys took care of nearly everything," she told him, and his eyes widened as he shook his head.

"I should have guessed," he said, and she chuckled at his expression.

"You shouldn't worry too much, I will have him help you when he returns in a day or two," she said and he nodded.

"I am not worried, just a little tired," he said as another knock on the door disturbed them.

"My lady, I have brought you your meal," it was Anya's voice.

In the hustle of the day she had forgotten to eat, and the food prepared by the castle's cooks had not been to her taste for some days now. Even today, in the morning, she had felt it difficult to keep it down.

In the end, she asked Anya to have them prepare something simpler.

"Yes, come in," she ordered and the doors to her room opened once more, doors which were now guarded by three men, men strictly ordered by Aenys to not let anyone approach her without her explicit permission.

Anya entered the room with a few servants who wheeled in the freshly prepared porridge, some simple bread, and smoked venison.

"I did not as for venison," she said with a frown, looking towards her loyal maid, who gave her a smile.

"It's the Prince's orders, my lady," she said, and she saw Gwayne roll his eyes. She blushed as she gave the maid a nod, beckoning her to leave the room.

And as soon as the door closed, he looked towards her.

"Prince's orders!" he said as he raised a brow and she rolled her eyes as she motioned for him to help himself.

"You should learn something from him," she said as she picked up her own tray and began to eat.

Gwayne, from the side, began to cut into the meat, which still had smoke coming out of it, and bit into it with fervor, making her shake her head. However, his habits were now his future lady wife's concern.

She herself slowly cut into meat. Venison was one of her more favored meats, yet today, even it felt bad. And the smell of it made her stomach turn; what was happening? Yet she cut into it and took a small bite, and the taste felt off, and despite her efforts, she could not keep it down.

"Were you aware of the King's plans of replacing father with Lord Lyonel as hand?" he questioned as she forced the bolus down her throat.

"No, it came as a surprise to me as well. Though father told me of the King's reasoning, and I can somewhat understand it," she replied, taking another small piece in her mouth.

The court grumbled quite a bit about the sheer amount of influence and power of House Hightower, and though they didn't fully understand it, despite them being a Hightower, she held little favor for the House in question. They maybe allies for Rhaenyra's sake, yet she had not forgotten what her own father had done to her.

One didn't simply forget such things.

Yet the court grumbled, and in the end, the King had decided on realizing him with Lord Lyonel, though the whole thing had been delayed by a moon due to the death of Lord Lyonel's son.

"Do you think it will soother the court?" he questioned and she shrugged.

"I cannot say," she said, pushing away the venison and reaching for the water, hoping that it would help.

"Now that he is free Rhaenyra wished to ask him…" but he stopped as he saw her jumping up and reaching towards the widow.

"Alicent!" he shouted in concern as she failed to reach the window in time and ended up emptying out her stomach in the side of the room.

"Gough!" she gasped as her stomach emptied and she swayed through thankfully Gwayne reached for her, his face pale as he wrapped his arm around her, steadying her.

"Guards! Guards!" he shouted, and the three men rushed in, swords in hand.

"Get me a healer!" he shouted as he helped her up and supported her back to her seat.

Hours later, she would find herself lying in her bed, a slew of Aenys's most talented and trusted healers scurrying by her side, Gwayne by her side with nearly half a dozen guards standing outside the door, as the healer told her.

"My lady, you are with child."

0000

AENYS TARGARYEN

Aenys had spent his night tossing and turning, unable to fall asleep, his mind rife with conflict as he failed to make a decision regarding his future. In the end, when his mind refused to rest, he found himself out of bed and in the training yard of the Eyrie, just as the Sun had begun its ascent into the cloudy sky.

The yard at that time had only a few squires preparing equipment for the knights they were serving under. And so, Aenys had offered them a chance to spar with him and had watched as all of them had agreed with great enthusiasm, their eyes glinting at the opportunity of sparring with a man of his repute and station.

Many of them would probably boast of this to their children and grandchildren in the future, with a lot of embellishments. And so what had begun as a simple exercise to occupy his mind had transformed as more and more knights joined in, and now the Sun had long risen into the sky, bringing an end to the darkness of the knight and yard itself was filled to the brim with knights waiting for their turn to spar with a Prince of the realm, or just enjoying the opportunity of watching him test his metal against the infamous knights of the Vale.

And the knight that stod opposite to him was perhaps the best of them all. Ser Joffrey Arryn, the man whose wedding they had just celebrated last night, the anointed the Knight of the Gate stood opposite to him, sweat dripping from his forehead as he looked at him with a rather hateful gaze, probably seeing Daemon in his place.

Daemon's behavior the previous night would have unsettled any man, and the way the man was sparring against him told him that it had taken its toll on the man as well. Well, the least he could do was let the man vent, and this was good practice for him as well.

The man stepped forward and pushed forward his blade, and though the blade carried no edge, such a strike would hurt quite a bit given they wore no armor.

Aenys's muscles were quite sore from all those spars, yet he parried the blade to the side and moved forward, trusting in his agility against the larger and burlier Ser Joffrey. The man tried to step back, but Aenys didn't let him. He ducked under his wild swing, slashing upward with his own blade at the man's hand.

The man was quick to react to his intentions and dropped the sword, avoiding the strike. He rolled back, taking out the two daggers strapped to his back.

Aenys huffed as he tightened his grip over his own blade, for this became more interesting. The man rushed towards him once more, trying to breach into his defenses, trying to employ the same strategy as him, and his burly size was deceptive for the man was quite agile as he dodged his strike after strike, weaving through them or parrying them with his daggers.

Yet no matter what, Aenys was faster. He had been trained by Bravosi water dancers, whose main forte was their speed, and though his martial skills were rather well-rounded, agility was his bread and butter.

And so, just as the man stepped back to avoid a slash, Aenys let go of his own blade, launching it towards the man and catching him off guard. The blade struck him in the shoulder, making him grunt as one of his daggers slipped from his hand and fell to the ground.

CLICK. CLANK.

And he could hear the other knights gasp at his maneuver but he was getting rather tired, and despite his understanding nature he had a reputation to maintain.

The man tried to swing at him, with his other arm, but Aenys avoided by a hair's margin slipping beyond him and pushing his arm under his arm, and twisting himself behind the burly man as he struck his weaker leg making it slip from under him and he forced him to the floor.

THUD!

The man fell to the floor, his own arm twisted behind him, the tip of his own dagger inch from his neck.

"Yield!" he offered, and the man nodded.

"I yield," the man acquiesced and whole yard broke out into a massive applaud, as he backed off and helped the man back to his feet, and though it seemed as though the man was not quite satisfied the loss, at least he had the tact to shake his hand.

"It was a good spar, my Prince. It is rare that the bards do justice to a man's skill yet it seems their songs about you are truer than most," he said and Aenys nodded.

"Haha, well I can see why you were made the Knight of the Gate, had it not been for that lost maneuver I would have been in trouble," he offered some solace, though that was a lie.

The man moved away, as Aenys reached for the blade, his muscles now ached quite a bit and his clothes were drenched in sweat.

HE could see another knight stepping forward, yet the man was going to be disappointed for he was not in any shape to spar any more.

Though thankfully, a rather familiar voice saved him.

"Now, that will be enough! We should not trouble our guest so much," and he looked to the side and found Lady Jeyne stepping into the yard clad in an elaborate green dress, her steadfast companion, the red-haired Lady Jessamyn, behind her.

"I believe that is enough for today, come join us in breaking the fast my Prince," she offered, and he nodded and he could feel disappointment spread through the crowd as he agreed to the lady's request.

All three of them walked through the castle halls as the Lady of the Vale broke through the silence.

"For a man as learned as you, your skills with a blade are rather impressive," she said with a raised brow, continuing.

"Though I should have expected nothing less from the dragon slayer," she teased, and the way her lips had turned up told him that someone had been babbling about him to her cousin.

"Well, it seems you were watching for quite a while, my lady," he questioned, and she shook her head.

"I watched a few of those spars, but the knights told me of how you have been in the yard since dawn," she said, and he nodded.

"Yes, I needed to clear my head," they sat down for breakfast, besides Rhaenyra, who had already arrived in the Hall and looked rather pale.

"You look rather pale, princess. Is everything fine?" Jessamyn Redfort questioned, and he frowned himself as he watched Rhaenyra nod slowly.

"Yes, it seems I have an upset stomach," she said, and his eyes narrowed as he looked at the simple porridge bowl in front of her.

And he decided that he could not push this any further, and so as he saw her reaching for an ale, he pushed it aside, much to her surprise, and she turned to face him as he himself turned to face the lady of the Vale.

"I will be needing a room, my lady," he said, and Rhaenyra was quick to cut in.

"I am fine, it's probably just an upset stomach," she argued, and he shook his head as he leaned towards her and whispered into her ears his thoughts, and the way the Lady of the Vale's eyes widened, his whisper had reached her ears as well.

And after he had spent an hour examining her to the best of his abilities, his suspicion was proven right as he announced to Rhaenyra.

"You are with child!"

0000

What's more ominous than a single pregnancy in GOT? Two pregnancies!

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