Chapter Text
“My lord, the King has just died!”
“What did you just say?” Otto says putting the piece of bread back on his plate.
“The King has died, the maesters just confirmed it,” the courtier says breathlessly.
“Has the princess been informed?”
“No, she left for a ride about one candlemark ago, Ser Harrold will inform her once she lands.”
“What of Daemon?” Otto asks, concern rising in his voice.
“The prince’s location is unknown at this time.”
Probably drinking or whoring at this hour. Or sleeping off last night’s drinking and whoring, Otto thinks to himself. “Have him located and brought to the Keep at once. But do so quietly, we don’t need a panic to break out.”
“Yes, sir!”
Otto waves his hand, “You are dismissed.”
The courtier briskly walks out of Otto’s office and shuts the door behind him.
This is not good, not good at all. Otto had gotten Rhaenyra named heir as a stop gap measure, to prevent that Maegor in the making, Daemon, from seizing the crown. But Rhaenyra is little more than a girl, still too close to her Uncle, and worst of all, out of Otto’s control. She could marry Daemon tomorrow, remove me as Hand, and I could do naught about it. Otto fumes at the thought.
And then there is all the work that would go to waste. Otto knew that sending his daughter to Viserys all those nights was a risk. Viserys could have thrown her out the door or simply enjoyed her company without pursuing anything further. But sending Alicent to comfort the King had just started to bear fruit. Viserys had just approached him to discuss marrying Alicent, and now that had all gone up in smoke. No marriage to the king, no Queen Alicent, and no grandsons of his blood on the throne. It had all been for nothing.
Otto feels his blood boil at the thought; all his work, all his planning, now meant nothing. He is at risk of losing everything he has ever built. He has gone from second son to the king in all but name. The man who would have made himself a legacy of kings. And now he stands to lose all of it to that little girl.
“ARGHH!” Otto screams as he grabs his desk and flips it over. The desk falls to the ground with a great bang, and Otto hears one his guards through the door.
“My lord, are you ok?” the guard shouts through the door. He sounds moments away from breaking it down.
“I am fine, thank you.”
Otto takes deep breath, this is fine, he has climbed this far, he has survived many challenges to his power, he will survive this one. He’ll need his daughter.
But first, with a mild blush on his face, Otto picks up his desk and collects the small meal and loose papers that went flying.
Through the door Otto calls out to the guard; “Please fetch my daughter at once.”
~~~~~
Alicent had been sitting in her room, reading a book on the Ghiscari Wars between the Freehold of Valyria and Ghis when one of her father’s guards knocked on the door and announced that she was summoned by her father. Alicent dutifully sets her book down and leaves her room.
Alicent stands before her Father’s office and takes a deep breath. She knows what this is about, there is only one reason Father would call her during the mild of the day. The King has asked for her hand, and her Father is informing her of her betrothal. Alicent has prayed that this day would not come, but now it is upon; she will be Queen and there is nothing she can do about it.
Should have taken Nrya’s offer when I had a chance, Alicent thinks to herself.
Alicent pushes open the door and enters her Father’s office. She looks upon her Father and finds an unusual sight; her Father with his hair mussed, breathing hard, and his expression clearly disturbed. As the door closes behind Alicent, her Father speaks up.
“The King has passed,” her Father says with a surprisingly cool cadence considering his appearance.
“Excuse me?” Alicent says, not quite understanding what her father just said.
“King Viserys has died, the Grand Maester is examining the body, but apparently it looks like his heart simply burst.”
“Oh,” is all that Alicent can muster. Seven help her. All she can feel is relief, sweet Seven blessed relief. She knows she should feel sorrow, grief, or almost anything else, but she can not bring herself in the moment to feel anything but relief. If not for her own sake, then for her Rhaenrya, who will be destroyed by this news, but she can not bring herself to care. All Alicent can think is that this feeling must be like when a prisoner is spared the hangman’s noose.
Her father’s voice jolts Alicent from her thoughts. “A very tragic day for the realm, no doubt.”
“Of course, I mourn for the King and for Rhaenrya, she will be deastaved. Has anyone told her?” Alicent’s concern for Rhaenyra masks the relief at the news.
“No, apparently she is still on dragonback. Ser Harrold is waiting for her when she lands,” O
tto explains. “I believe it would be wise for you to meet her when she returns to the Keep. She needs a friendly face; in one moment she has lost a father and gained a crown.”
“Of course,” Alicent nods her head.
“Alicent, I don’t believe I need to tell you, but it bears repeating that our position is extremely vulnerable at the moment. Any possible betrothal to the King is obviously off the table, and it would be best if no one ever learns of your meetings with the King. It is in our best interests and the realm’s for you to remain… close with Rhaenyra. She will need someone to listen to her, someone to talk with, and someone she feels she can trust, and that person needs to be you. Stay close to the Queen,” Otto orders her.
“Yes, father,” Alicent respondss while trying to sound even keeled. “May I go to her?”
“Yes, yes, go.” Otto waves his head.
Alicent turns and forces herself to go at a normal pace as she walks out of the room. An odd blend of emotions surges within her; relief, joy, sadness, and worry all in equal parts. Alicent swiftly makes her way to the courtyard to await the arrival of Rhaenyra. She thinks that there is much to be done, but she walked into her Father’s office expecting the end of her life, only to be freed.
Still, Alicent knows her dearest friend is hurting so she will do whatever needs done to help ease her pain
~~~~~
Rhaenyra knows something is wrong when she dismounts Syrax and sees Ser Harrold standing next to the wheelhouse. Immutable Ser Harrold, the Red Keep’s permanent fixture of calm in a sea of chaos, lies, plots, with a look that is cool and collected on the exterior, wears tears in the corners of his eyes. His beard trembles ever so slightly.
“What’s wrong?”
Harrold’s lips tremble as he tries to force the words out of his lungs. “Your Grace, your Father has died.”
Rhaenyra feels her heart drop, no no no noo noo this can’t be true.
“What happened?”
“We are not sure, but it seems to be natural causes, your Grace,” Harrold explains.
It is that statement that causes the realization to set in. Her legs drop from under her and she hits the ground. She lets out an anguished scream as tears begin to flow from her eyes. She does not know how long she is on ground for, maybe no more than a few moments, maybe a whole moon, but she next feels Ser Harrold hand patting her on the back.
“Please Rhaenyra, we must return to the Keep,” Ser Harrold pleads.
Rhaenyra continues to cry and sob, but slowly and with the assistance of Ser Harrold stands to her feet. She then half-walks and is half-carried by Ser Harrold into the awaiting wheelhouse.
The ride in the wheelhouse is a blur, Rhaenyra can’t think, can’t even begin to process what is going on. She has lost her mother, was named heir to the throne, lost her father, and is now the most powerful person in the Kingdom all in a scant few moons. By the time the wheelhouse arrives at the Red Keep, she believes that they have been traveling for only a few minutes.
The wheelhouse comes to a stop in the courtyard of the Red Keep. Rhaenyra steps out looks to see the various guardsmen, courtiers, and servants all carrying on as normal. Words must not have spread yet, Rhaenyra thinks to herself. As Rhaenyra quickly scans the courtyard, she sees Alicent, perhaps now the most important person in her life. Alicent shifts on her feet and her hands are tightly wound together. Alicent approaches her.
“Rhaenyra…”
“Ali, is he really gone?” she asks, still holding out some kind of desperate hope.
“Yes, he is.”
Rhaenyra feels another wave of sobs start to build in her chest, but before it spills out of her, Alicent wraps her in a tight embrace. Rhaenyra buries her head into the crook of Alicent’s neck. Before the tears start to flow, Alicent speaks.
“Very few people know, Rhaenyra. We need to get you inside and out of view. Can you walk with me to your room?” Alicent whispers in Rhaenyra’s ear.
Rhaenyra manages to nod her head, still nuzzled safely in Alicent’s neck.
“Ok, I am going to let go, and we are going to walk to your room.” Alicent says calmly and sweetly, but with a firm tone.
Rhaenyra gives her consent by mumbling, “Ok.” Alicent releases her hug and positions herself to lock arms with Rhaenyra. She then starts to guide Rhaenyra through hallways, past all the people of the Red Keep. Although Rhaenyra notices a few people whisper in hushed tones as they walk by, most seem to be oblivious to the death of the monarch. Rhaenyra manages to avoid sobbing, although if anyone had looked at her it would be clear something was distressing her.
Eventually they make it to Rhaenyra's chamber and, once the door shuts, she collapses against the wall. Her chest is racked with sobs. She feels tears stream down her cheeks and on to her dress. Alicent sits down besides her and simply hugs her from the side for what must be half a candlemark, before Rhaenyra is cogent again.
“I just don’t know how he is gone. I spoke with him before I left for my flight and he was fine. How could he have died?”
Alicent waits a moment before responding, “I don’t know. I don’t know what to say, but I am sorry this has happened to you Rhaenyra.”
Rhaenyra catches her breath for a moment and tries to dry her eyes. Rhaenyra did not know if she ever truly forgave her father for ordering her mother be cut upon, but she still loved him. Rhaenyra wonders if it is possible to hate someone and love them at the same time. But as she is trying to process the grief of losing a father a thought pops into her mind.
“How can I be Queen? I am barely more than a little girl!”
“You will be a great Queen because you are kind, wise, and all the other things that make a great ruler. But for tonight, you don’t have to be Queen, you can just be Rhaenyra.” Alicent says as she strokes Rhaenyra’s cheek with such devotion and tenderness. Alicent looks at her with such love and compassion, Rhaenyra could scarcely imagine where she would be right now if she did not have Alicent.
At that, Rhaenyra breaks down again from a mixture of grief and love that is embedded deep in her soul. She spends the next candlemark rotating between bouts of sobbing and moments of tender silence as Alicent consoles her.
Rhaenyra does not know how long she cries for or what the time is when she stops, but she can see that the sun has set. Rhaenyra feels exhausted and her eyelids feel heavy. “Alicent, can you spend the night here?”
“Of course,” Alicent says within an instant.
Rhaenyra slowly rises to her feet. Once she is standing, Alicent swiftly disrobes her until only her small clothes cover her body.
“Would you like me to call for a body?” Alicent softly asks.
“Is that your way of telling me I stink of dragon?” Rhaenyra quips, managing to pull the first tiny smile she has had since learning the news.
Alicent slowly shakes her. “No, I wanted to offer it to you. Although you do stink of a dragon,” Alicent adds at the end.
“Would you be willing to bear the smell of dragon for me?”
Alicent takes Rhaenyra’s hand in hers. “For you, I would be willing to bear dragonfire.”
Rhaenyra’s eyes water once again. “Thank you, Alicent.”
“You are most welcome. Alright, let’s get ready for bed.”
Alicent helps Rhaenyra slip into one of her nightgowns. Rhaenyra offers one of her own nightgowns for Alicent. Alicent somewhat hesitantly accepts.
Soon they are lying next to each other in Rhaenyra’s bed. Rhaenyra feels her eyes become heavier with every passing second, but right before she falls asleep, she says “Alicent, what have I done to deserve you?”
“You deserve me by being you, now sleep.” Alicent’s words are the last thing Rhaenyra hears before falling into the black bliss of sleep.
~~~~~
Otto makes his way through the darkened Keep, having just left the Grand Maester office. Mellos, for as much as he is just an old toad, Otto thinks he is a good enough Maester that Otto trusts him when he says that have not found any signs of poisoning. Apparently, they found evidence of a clot that caused Viserys’ heart to stop; a shame, but not rare in a man of the King’s age and health.
At least Otto does not have to worry about the possibility that someone intentionally poisoned the King, thank the Seven.
Otto reaches the small outcove by the servant quarter. Otto watches as a few moments pass before a young woman passes the corner as she was told. She is one of the Prin… Queen’s servants, a young maid who has long been on Otto’s payroll.
“Me Lord,” the young maid says, solemnly bowing her head.
“What of the Queen and Lady Alicent?” Otto sharply asks.
“The Queen and Lady Alicent have taken to bed, it seems. I overheard the Queen crying and the Lady comforting her,” the young maid quickly answers.
“Do you know what they spoke of when they talked?”
“No, my lord.”
“Hm, very well, keep a close eye on them. And report back to me any important information.” Otto pulls out ten silver stags out of his pocket and hands them to the maid.
She looks up at Otto with a small sense of awe, “Thank you, Lord. This is most generous.”
“This is not an act of charity, this is to guarantee your loyalty. Do I need to explain the price of betraying my confidence?” Otto stares directly at the maid and watches as she welts. As she should.
“No, me Lord. I understand.”
“Good. Leave.” Otto watches as the maid pockets the coins and swiftly walks back the way she came.
Otto takes a deep breath in and starts to walk back to his apartments. As Otto walks, his mind starts to whirl; all of it focused on his daughter.
Otto knew his daughter, knew his daughter perhaps better then she knew herself. He had seen her looks towards Rhaenyra. He knew that Alicent harbored sinful feelings for the young princess. When his own wife had told him that Alicent and Rhaenyra had kissed, he should have sent Alicent back to the Hightower. Maybe he should have sent her to the septa for her sinful ways. But his wife convinced him in that way only she ever could, that it was a mostly harmless experiment and that she had properly scolded and taught Alicent. What a fucking fool he had been, but the Gods have a strange way of pushing people. He had tried to reach that final rung of the ladder and, as a result of his failure to protect his child, the Gods sought to have that dragon rip her away from him. But, if the Gods sought to punish him, fine; he would just have to use his daughter’s… urges to his advantage. There was still so much to gain.