Chapter Text
Chapter 1
Viserys knew he was being reckless. What else would his actions be called? As King, there were qualities he must possess. Poise, civility, leadership, firmness, decisiveness and many more. But recklessness was never one of them. A trait more often than not found in his brother than himself. As King, he couldn’t take such liberties. But as of right now, he didn’t seem to care.
The crown has always been a heavy burden to bear. He has had to make sacrifices. Duty always came before personal matters. And that oftentimes included his family. His wife. And now he was forced to face the consequences of his actions. Even more so of late now that his beloved Aemma is gone from this world. Died in childbirth along with their son Baelon. His need for a male heir caused him to keep trying to produce a boy after several miscarriages.
He has never felt so alone.
Even though he still had his daughter and council. Their presence always felt in the keep. He still felt so lonely. How could he not be without his precious Aemma? They were married young. Two young. He was ten and six and she was only ten and four. They both believed it was the reason for all of Aemma’s health problems. He hated seeing her suffer from each miscarriage. But every time he would her in his arms at night as she credited herself to sleep.
He loved her.
This marriage wasn’t just a matter of duty. Even though their marriage secured their alliance with the Vale. It was a love match.
She was his companion. His confident. His best friend was gone. The women who would speak to him after long-held council meetings talking about complete nonsense in order to take his mind off whatever was causing him such stress. She would listen to him drown on for hours while he walked on his model and blabbed about Old Valyria. She used to sing to their daughter when she was born. Tears once more swelled up in his eyes. Their betrothal might have been arranged but a year before their marriage so that he may court her. And once again they returned to her homeland the year they had their daughter.
His dear daughter.
Rhaenyra had the Valyrian looks, often wearing her silver-gold hair in a long braid similar to the manner of Queen Visenya Targaryen. Her eyes were large and her long eyelashes highlighted her lilac eyes. Rhaenyra was a precocious child, bright and bold and beautiful. She was so sweet. There was always a hint of mischief and teasing in her eyes. Her smile shone brightly and made everyone around her endeared to her. At the age of fourteen, Rhaenyra was declared by his brother to be the most beautiful maiden in all the Seven Kingdoms. And he wasn’t wrong.
She was a true representation of their house. A Dragon.
Rhaenyra was proud and stubborn, and there was a certain petulance to her small mouth. Though she could be charming, Rhaenyra was quick to anger and never forgot a slight. Whenever she was anxious, she would turn her rings compulsively around her fingers. She favoured her jewels.
And now she lost her mother.
He did not know how to speak to her. She too sharply felt the loss of her mother. And in his own grief, he did not know how to comfort her. Even at the funeral, he couldn’t bring himself to speak a single word. Not even after she lit the pyre.
And his council.
Viserys knew they had duties and responsibilities to uphold. Their role was to maintain peace across the realm after all. But to suggest that he remarry so quickly after his beloved wife’s passing? To ensure more children after he just burned his son? It seemed cruel not even to wait a full moon to discuss the option. His hand Otto assured him of the dire need to act swiftly. But Viserys could not see it. He could not see how that was duty and sacrifice. Perhaps he was merely blinded by grief. But he did not see the point in remarrying and having children when he already had an heir.
Rhaenyra.
His daughter.
His succession was secure and the Targarean name shall pass down to her. Despite law and precedence. He created a new law. His daughter will her Targaryen name even after wed. And to his brother as well, hopefully, once he matures.
But nonetheless, the matter was settled and should be closed. And yet, offers of marriage keep being brought to his attention. From lords across Westeros that he has never met before to his closest kin.
Hence how he has found himself on Driftmark.
The island prospered from Lord Corly's wealth, and two large port towns grew on up the coasts of Driftmark. He also constructed a new castle on the opposite side of the island to house the Driftwood Throne: High Tide, so-called because it was built on a tidal island only linked to Driftmark at low tide.
It was only midday. He had left King’s landing at first light. He was up most of the night and as he waited for light to cut through the darkness he pondered over dark thoughts. He gained no sleep last night. Nor has he in the days since Aemma’s passing. And he doubted he would get a restful night for a long time. So his mind often wandered. But as soon as he came to a decision he knew he couldn’t make any other choice. And so he went to make it happen.
He didn’t even spare the time to inform Otto or his daughter of his travels. Perhaps because he knew what his Hand would say, “You mustn't be too hasty in your decision, my grace.” and he didn’t wish to delay but he made a hast in the early morn and left the keep like a thief in the night. Though he did inform all of his King’sguard as well as Lord Strong and Beesbury in his passing to the ship. He was aware that he couldn’t simply disappear, despite how much he wished he could.
“Your grace,” His Maestor of Ships said as he and his wife, his cousin, the Princess Rhaenys stood in the empty throne room to greet and welcome him. High Tide was built from pale stone, the same material used in the Eyrie. Its slender towers were crowned with roofs of beaten silver which shone in the sun. The Driftwood throne was constructed out of driftwood. The Lord of the Tides kept the Driftmark throne and its entire halls in pristine condition. A reflection of his rule no doubt. Though Viserys couldn’t help but wonder how much of Driftmark’s success was due to his cousin’s influence.
Which right now was exactly what he sought out. “Lord Corlys. Princess Rhenys he said in greeting”
“We weren’t expecting you,” Corlys stated, with a sideways glance at his wife. Undoubtedly the glimmer in his eyes was one of hope or worry. He undoubtedly believed that the King's visit was due to his decision on Corly's proposal of marriage between him and his daughter.
“My visit was planned very hastily I am afraid.” He sighed wearily. He was not exactly looking forward to this conversation. Moreso because it means he has thought through the proposal despite it being only three-quarters of a full moon since his wife’s death. “I found I needed a change of scenery and I had not visited Driftmark in some time.” The air was undoubtedly clear here, the open windows allowed the sea breeze to encase him. Even for a second, he allowed the attitude of this place to encase him if only to give himself peace and clarity. It was quite a startling contrast compared to King’s Landing. He felt free here in a few moments then the past three weeks in the castle. The stuffiness and confines of duty were constricting.
“You are always welcome here, cousin.” Viserys had a feeling he would be banking on their invitation more than once during these upcoming moons.
Soon in the awkward silence, they made their way to sit at the long table. Both sets of guards moved outside the doorway. Giving them a semblance of privacy. “How do you fair your grace?” Corlys asked after refreshments were brought. And though Viserys found the taste of wine enjoyable he didn’t dare sink into his cups. Not when he needed to keep a semblance of his whits together.
“I find myself harshly feeling the loss of Aemma. She was not just a good mother, a just queen, but a kind woman. Her absence shall be felt by all,” Viserys said with a small smile. Every time he closed his eyes he could picture his sweet wife’s smile and her warm presence. A day has not gone by without tears coming to his eyes.
“And your daughter?” Rhaenys asked. While she was present for the funeral, she didn’t linger too long after that. Most likely she craves the presence of her own children in such times. He couldn’t begrudge her for that. That dreaded night he went to go see his daughter, he couldn’t bring himself to enter her room and speak to her after he heard her half-covered sobs. He found his back pressed against the hallway wall with his eyes closed, tears streaming down his face as he covered his mouth with his hand.
“She cried herself to sleep and each day when I see the haunted look in her eyes I know I can’t brighten them.” He closed his eyes at the sharp memory of her red teary eyes. A sight that haunted him nearly as much as holding his wife's hand as she stopped breathing by her side. How was he supposed to face his daughter when every time he looks at his daughter he is faced with his beloved wife’s memory? “I find myself struggling to find the right words to say to her.” And any words he could say would never negate the pain she was experiencing. But there was one thing he could do right by her moving forward.
“I have thought long and hard about our last conversation.” Even though Viserys kept his eyes down on his cup of red wine, the red was a more plum colour compared to Aemma’s blood, he could feel Corlys stand up straighter for the subject at hand. “I believe the gods have decided to punish me. By stealing the crown from you cousin, I believed I have angered the gods enough for them to take my son.” He almost laughed at the cruel irony of his realization. “And by not realizing this sooner I have cost myself my wife. My daughter, her mother.” If only he recognized his need for an heir was solved by naming Rheanyra sooner. If only he realized this earlier.
Rhaenys was quick to cut in as dark thoughts clouded his mind once more. “Aemma’s loss was not on you. Her fate was chosen by the gods.” If only that were the case, he thought to himself.
“Your proposal in regards to your daughter's hand.” Both of them gave him their full attention. Their daughter’s fate hangs in his hands. “I am honoured by it. However, I have come to the decision. That I can’t remarry. I lost my wife and no one would be able to hold a flicker to the love I felt for her. Rheanyra is my priority now. She is my heir and I stand by my decision. My remarrying and possibly siring heirs. It would undermine her rule. And of course, I fear the loss of another child and another wife after all my other losses.”
He knew many would not be pleased by his decision not to remarry. Many lords of the realm would be offended. No doubt the Valyians were one of them. However, he wasn’t personally offending any houses by choosing a different house over the others. It was the closest to peace Viserys could create without stumbling under the weight of the crown. “I am honoured by your proposal and perhaps in another life I could accept. However, in my good conscience, I can’t accept it.”
“I see,” Lord Corlys said stiffly. He knew that whoever his daughter married now would be of a lower station than himself if she did not marry him.
“I wouldn’t dare put your daughter at such a risk for the two of you.” Viserys looked up at his cousin and spoke directly to her. Knowing she was the more sensible of the two. “You should never be forced to suffer such a loss.” Understanding flickered through her eyes for a moment. Before a softness eased her edges. There was nothing quite as strong as a mother’s love for their children.
Now with the voice of a king and not a man who was recently widowed, he spoke louder with more authority. “I came here to tell you this personally. Before I make the announcement to the courts.” It was the only courtesy he could give them since he wouldn’t be taking their daughter to wife.
“Very well,” Rhaenys said after she placed her hand on Corlys. The two of them were always able to silently speak to one another through simple glances and touches. There was always a simplicity to their relationship, that Viserys always envied. One filled with less strain and politics compared to his and Aemma’s. Despite him and Aemma being married they still had to uphold propriety in public. They couldn’t show any form of intimacy. Even hand-holding had to be limited to the privacy of their chambers.
“Will you be staying long?” Viserys almost laughed at the attempt of a polite dismissal. While Corlys’ house was not insulted in the slightest his pride and ambition clearly were. Though that was the fault of many men, he just hoped with Rhaenys by his side it wouldn’t be the Velaryons. There were so few dragon riders left. They couldn’t let such a heritage fall.
“No, I should return shortly. I perhaps needed a moment away from the court to gather my thoughts.”
“Perhaps if you would like, I could send Laena and Laenor to accompany your daughter in this trying time. I know how close they used to be in their youth,” Rhaenys suggested. And at once Viserys noticed how it was now Corlys squeezing his wife’s hand. And though Viserys had a feeling there was a political agenda intertwined with such a request, he doubted it was the main goal. And right now he would take all the help he could get for his daughter’s sake. “I would be most grateful. I fear she should not be alone. Especially now that she only has Lady Alicent for company.”
“Daemon is still absent?”
Viserys arched his brow. Was she truly surprised?” Daemon was disinherited. Of course, there would be some anger over that. He was embarrassed and no doubt felt humiliated. But then again this was Daemon they were speaking about. And he could just be stooping in an uncontrolled rage. He truly had the fire of the dragon after all. No small slight could be taken in small measures. He had walked away like a child holding a tantrum. As if his favourite toy was taken from him or he was sent to be with no dessert. “Yes, taking up residence on Dragonstone.”
“We all mourn in our own way.”
He almost laughed at such a statement. Daemon was mourning all right. His brother had always been temperamental. His emotions sang loudly there was no doubt about it. He was a Targaryen through and through. And despite what he said about his son, whether or not he said that while drunk or not, he did love Aemma. She was his sister. They were blood. Cousins. He always comforted and gave Aemma his condolences every time they lost a babe and she was the one to advocate for his long-desired annulment. They were each other’s biggest protectors. “Yes, though I wish his involved in being by my daughter's side, and not disrespecting my son.”
He wished his brother was by his side. He could use his silent support. The man who never hesitated to reach for his sword pommel whenever someone dared to speak against him. He needed his family more than ever. Especially while he was so vulnerable as the vultures surrounded him. But more than anything he needed the strength of the dragon’s blood. He never was as strong as other men with the Targaryen name. Like his brother was. Or even his cousin for that matter. Even though she was now a Valaryian by marriage. She was undoubtedly a Targaryen. Stern and firm. She never allowed herself to be manipulated or misled. The rider of Meleys. She was more of a dragon than he was. Even now, she sat in front of him with the grace only a Targaryen princess could possess.
A thought occurred to him. One perhaps a little more decisive than his previous one on marriage. But once it came to him he couldn’t help but impulsively go through it without the council of others.
“I do ask a favour of you cousin.” She looked at him with barely concealed intrigue. “I ask that you join me at court.”
As soon as he spoke the rest of the idea tumbled out of him. “I ask that you take a place as the highest-ranking woman in court. I wish for you to sit on my counsel as an advisor. And to aid my daughter as she navigates the courts as my heir and without a mother.” Even though he said it was for his daughter’s benefit. It would also be for him. “I need guidance in this trying time. And family is more preferable,” he admitted.
“Your council may not approve,” she said at last after pondering over his proposition. Undoubtedly it came as a surprise. When he sailed to Driftmark this day he did not intend to ask such a thing of her now. But in hindsight, if he wasn’t blinded by his grief perhaps he should have.
“We both know their displeasure means nothing to you cousin.”
She gave a small huff at that. Though Corlys seemed to be suppressing his laughter. “What would be my tasks?”
“You would sit on my council and aid me with whatever advice you could offer. Your title would simply be King’s advisor. A role Grandmother held on King Jaehery's council.”
“And for your daughter?”
“She will need help learning to rule. You were trained to rule, while I was not. I believe you would be more helpful for my daughter and her future rule than I could ever hope for.” He was aware that Rhaenyra’s rule would not be so easily accepted as his own was. And for that, he felt sorry for his daughter. But he knew he had to help her in any way that he could. “She will need to learn the art of politicking, how to run a household and eventually a kingdom. But perhaps she would like to speak with someone who knew her mother. With her mother so often bedridden I fear there is much my daughter does not know of the world as a young women. At this time we need family more than ever.” He spoke strongly and surely at first however, his voice ended up in a near whisper by the end as he nearly pleaded with her. He thought about all of the things Rheanyra would miss out on experiencing. A companion to speak to and gush over her flights and travel with Syrax. A woman to talk with about potential suitors and courting. Seeing her on her wedding day. Having a mother be by her side while she is experiencing childbirth.
Rhaenys gave a slight nod in acknowledgment, however, Corlys didn’t seem to be sold on the idea. Though he undoubtedly enjoyed the idea of his wife on the council, though he did loathe to leave Driftmark under the rule of a Castilian. “And with you and your children at court. Your daughter would become one of Rhaenyra’s ladies in waiting. And would have more of an opportunity to claim a dragon.”
This seemed to appease both of them. In Fact, both were very pleased with the idea. “Very well. We can pack and be back at court in seven days.”