Chapter Text
Rhaenyra reads the letter and laughs; she laughs until tears slide down her cheeks. She forgave Alicent a lot of times, no matter what torture she put her through, backstabbed her and married her father. Her cunt second son tried to murder her sweet boy and made Arrax unable to fly ever again. Her drunk oaf of a first born sits her throne.
And the filthy usurpers dared to offer her terms.
Dared to ask her anything.
The same woman who refused her offer, who insulted her in front of the council, embarrassed her countless times. Rhaenyra grits her teeth, Alicent was never any friend to her. If this is what a friend is, then everyone should be better off without them.
And now she insults her again by saying she would wed her grandchildren to her youngest boys, they will have the throne after her. That was the condition on which she, the king’s firstborn, Viserys rightful heir, may have her throne.
She cursed her half-brother and step mother. They can have her throne and may they rot on it. They weren’t even sorry for injuring her sweet boy, for almost killing him and Arrax.
Her husband, lord Corlys and lady Rhaenys had read the letter too. She looked at them and laughed again. They were refusing to meet her eyes.
“You must be happy aunt that another person thinks like you and hates my first three sons. Maybe you and Alicent can become friends. Because that woman is no friend of mine. She is nothing to me.”
For a moment, Rhaenys looked as if she could not believe what she'd just heard. She straightened her posture. “Rhaenyra—”
Rhaenyra turned to her husband, “you must be overjoyed your offspring are getting a chance to sit the throne, your life’s ambition.”
Daemon’s eyes widened, “what are you saying? I never—” Rhaenyra didn’t bother listening to whatever the alpha had to say.
She turned to lord Corlys, glancing at her aunt for a minute. This time she couldn’t stop the tears, “I did not kill your son. We tried—we tried our best, Laenor and I,” she clenched her hands into a fist. They all liked truth, let’s see if they liked it now, “your son lives.”
She looked at her aunt who was shaking where she was standing, “Laenor loved his sons, unlike you. They do have Velaryon blood, aunt. Targaryens and Velaryons have married for generations. He left because he couldn’t protect them, because you and your husband forced him into a role he didn’t wish.” More tears cascaded down her cheeks, “I only freed him from his burden.” Her voice broke, “I—I did do my duty, we, we both did our best with our situation. He is happy with Qarl. As I was with Daemon and my children.”
Neither Rhaenys nor Corlys and Daemon spoke a word, keeping their head down.
She rose from her place, “the fact doesn’t change that my father named me heir, whether anyone likes it or not. He named me heir! Me! It’s my throne. It’s my blood that should sit on throne after me. Jacaerys, Lucerys, Joffrey, Aegon and Viserys are my children. They are my sons! I gave birth to them.” She met the three’s gaze, not caring seeing Rhaenys sobbing quietly. Daemon and Corlys looked as if they didn’t know her. She had never shown her anger, her rage in front of anyone before.
“And each and every one of them are thousand times worthier and purer than any of Alicent’s sons. Alicent, Otto and her firstborn usurped my throne. That one eyed cunt tried to murder my son,” her voice hardened, “I will never forgive them. His loss of eye means nothing to me. He tried to take my Lucerys’ life! My son’s life! She and her ilk will never stop making mine and my children's life a hell.”
Daemon clenched his hand into a fist as lord Corlys grimaced. Rhaenys was fully crying now.
Rhaenyra looked at Daemon, her face tear streaked, silver gold hair loose, “my first three born are not lesser because you are not their sire.” Her voice broke again, not seeing how her words made the other three flinch, “they are as much Targaryen as me and my father, as my youngest sons are. Because they are mine.” She met Daemon’s gaze, not caring to see the hurt on his face, “I am not like you Daemon, I love my sons more than my right for throne. I will never ever hurt them for it.”
She sneered. “I am not Alicent or Otto who used his daughter to get to the throne and my supposed friend who asked me to come see her right after I gave birth to my sweet Joffrey.” A haunted look came in Rhaenyra’s eyes.
“I couldn’t even walk, I was in so much pain,” she paused, “not one of you can ever imagine it, what it feels like, walking after birthing a child.”
Corlys and Rhaenys looked ill. Daemon looked murderous at the mention of that incident.
She straightened, wiping her tears, “the Hightower queen can have my throne and may she and her sons rot on it. That’s my answer. She wants peace. She can bloody have it and may that peace become her punishment. May it haunt her until the end of her days.”
With those words Rhaenyra tossed the letter in the fire before leaving the room. She didn’t care for anything, she just wanted one thing, only one. For her sons, her sweet boys, her precious children to be safe, to live and be happy. If giving her throne to her half-brother is the price for it, so be it.
She will never ever do what Alicent thought she would. Unlike that horrid woman, she loved her children more than anything else.
She was only sorry she couldn’t keep her promise to her father. She’ll ask Gerardys to send the ravens tomorrow.
The war was over.
As she headed to her room, her stride stiff, she recalled Lucerys’ deathly pale face, the injuries on his arms, Arrax broken wing, the babe dragon screeching in pain, the way that rotten, one eyed alpha had carried her precious omega son in his arms, refusing to meet her gaze as he shifted Luke to her arms, flying away on Laena’s dragon. Lucerys had still not recovered from that chase. He still whimpered in his sleep.
Her mad half-brother hunted her son in the skies.
No, they will all get their dues one day.
All of them.