Viserys stalked out of the room.
Guilt still weighed heavily on him, and he went to go see Alicent.
It had been nearly two days and only now did he trust himself to approach her.
He found her reclining on bed with the tiny babe in her arms.
“How is he?”
…
Alicent looked up at him, her hazel eyes watery when their gazes met.
She lowered them slowly and replied, “The Grand Maester Mellos has said we are very fortunate.
When Daeron came out, he was sure there was no hope.
But he is a fighter, he will live.”
Viserys tentatively moved closer.
He reached out and touched Alicent.
“I am sorry.
I was too forceful in your delicate condition.
I was angry and spoke with a harshness that you do not deserve.
Alicent, my love, make no mistake, I will never set aside Rhaenyra.
Do not ask it of me again, and do not bring these slanders to me.”
Alicent nodded shallowly and focused her attention on Daeron.
The King let out a sigh and stood up.
His wife would need time to forgive him.
He could buy her some jewels, she seemed fond of the color green lately.
Some emeralds maybe?
I could also let her name the new flagship of the Royal Fleet.
He would think of something, and she would come around.
Soon the words and acrimonious argument would be a distant memory.
…
After the birth of Daeron, Alicent returned to her concerns with Jacaerys.
He was obviously a bastard.
Viserys passing laws and commands to mutilate people who saw the truth and spoke it plainly was a dark day for Westeros.
Placing an egg in the bastard’s cradle was a gamble, and Alicent had eagerly instructed the allies she had to predict that the dragon egg would not hatch.
Much to her disappointment it had.
Meanwhile, Viserys was contrite and sought to buy her favor with gifts, as if a threat to her children could be ignored in favor of shiny baubles.
She accepted them, and feigned forgiveness, but she would never forget those hateful words.
Despite her vast frustration with him, Alicent still did not wish him ill.
His heart had been given to another long before she came to court, and how could one compete with the dead?
Being openly resentful to him over it would not secure Aegon’s future.
That was what truly mattered, and so she played the forgiving and dutiful wife.
As she thought that, her oldest son chose to make an appearance.
He had a serious look on his face, or as serious as a five-year-old can get, as he approached.
“Hello, mother.
I have a request.”
Ah, what a change a year or two can make.
In the past Aegon would just scream his demands.
This was far better.
“I want a dragon. Find the original chapter at g.com.
If baby Jace gets one, I want one too.”
Alicent shook her head.
He was far too young to go the Dragonpit and claim a dragon.
She could talk to Viserys about getting an egg for him, but from what she understood, non-cradle hatchlings did not always bond with the person near them.
Moreover, if it failed to hatch… the implications of Jacaerys having his egg hatch, but her son’s not being able to would not be good.
“When you are older, Aegon.”
He took a breath and even though he had not had a meltdown in months she braced herself.
“I should have a dragon.
Here is my rash… rasha..
rashin… uh, here is, I mean, here are my reasons.”
He held up one chubby finger.
“One, I am older than Jace and he has a dragon.”
He put up a second finger.
“Two, I am bigger than Elaena, and she has a dragon.”
He put up a third finger.
“Three, I am a Targaryen, we ride dragons.”
He put up a fourth finger, and his face scrunched up, but then he put the last finger back down.
“Those are my reasons.”
Alicent smiled, that was adorable.
Him attempting to mimic the way his big sister spoke was endearing.
“Come here Aegon,” she said and he walked toward her.
She hugged him.
“You will have a dragon, just not yet.
When you are older you can pick a dragon already hatched to bond with.
You can pick your dragon.
Jacaerys was stuck with whatever hatched from the egg.
You’ll have a bigger, and stronger one.
Your dragon will let you fly higher and further than his.”
Aegon gave her a tentative smile.
“Promise?”
“Yes, my little prince.
You are the King’s eldest son.
You deserve nothing but the best.”
“I accept your reasons-ing.
Thank you for your time!”
And with that he ran off out the door.
Alicent couldn’t help but laugh, were all her children going to talk like Elaena?
She supposed Helaena wouldn’t.
Her only daughter by blood was dear to her, but she was different, and Alicent wished to protect her from all the world’s evil.
She had recovered in the weeks since the birth and was restless to begin shedding the weight gained from the pregnancy.
Her father had said it would be her duty as the Queen to limit the time she was not fully presentable after giving birth to a child.
As she left her room, Ser Criston walked by her side.
“Are you feeling better, my Queen?”
“Yes, I am ser, thank you for inquiring.
What is the news from court?”
It is difficult to say who truly believes Rhaenyra’s offspring is Laenor’s and who is cowed by the King’s proclamation.
Regardless of their legitimacy, or obviously lack of, the eldest son of the King should inherit.
All of your ‘greens’ are in agreement to that, and a dragon egg hatching will not undo their view”
Alicent nodded, that was good.
They walked in silence for some time, and then saw Rhaenyra walking with Ser Harwin.
How bold she is, talking and laughing with him!
That is not a relationship between guard and princess!
Ser Harwin pointed Alicent out and Rhaenyra instantly frowned.
As they approached Alicent felt a now familiar anger grow within her.
The selfish heir to the throne followed her passions regardless of who it harmed.
“Good morning, Alicent, I am happy both of our early births proved to cause no lasting harm.”
As if she gave birth early!
Alicent responded with a brittle smile.
“Yes, that was fortunate.
I have been remiss.
Let me congratulate you both.”
Ser Harwin frowned.
“Both?” Rhaenyra asked with an arched eyebrow.
“Oh!
Forgive me, Ser Harwin and Laenor look so much alike, I oft get them confused.”
Ser Criston snorted in amusement while Ser Harwin’s face grew overcast.
“How droll.
I will let you go about your day.
I need to go see to my son, the future King of Westeros.”
Alicent forced her face to remain smooth as the two walked past.
When they were out of ear shot Ser Criston turned to her.
“It sickens me that if something does not change, if the realm does not see reason, a wretched bastard will one day sit on the Iron Throne,” he said softly, but angrily.
“As much as it sickens you, it terrifies me that my children may not live to even see that day.
Whatever affection Rhaenyra had for me has turned to loathing.
I fear that the best I can hope for is that Aegon, Aemond and Daeron would be allowed to take the Black, and even that unlikely.”
“I will die before your sons come to harm; I swear it.”
Alicent graced him with a smile.
“I believe you, ser, but even you cannot stand against dragons.
Yet, despair not.
My father says he has a plan.”
Ser Criston bowed his head and they continued their walk.
Alicent did not know what her father could do to change the succession with Viserys being so stubborn about it.
But she trusted him, he knew best.
…
Who knew?
So …
just keep tossing them 😉
…