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123 AC, King's Landing
Viserys looked at Daemon's furious face, the devastated faces of his grandchildren, and finally spoke up, "Therefore, in accordance with the precedent set by King Jaehaerys the Conciliator himself, I hereby call for a Great Council."
Daemon Targaryen walked with purpose to Rhaenyra's chambers. Viserys had finally allowed her to receive visitors, and he had vehemently refused to let any of the children see her. Even if he did not share blood with her three eldest, they had the blood of the dragon, and he had grown fond of them, beyond the original amusement at their heritage. They should not see their mother like this.
He still remembered how she looked that day, the deadly fire in her eyes, the hate that had been brought bare by that wretched, blind witch. He had not told anyone the truth about what had occurred, the truth of what had been done to him. He did not know if it was the shame he felt or the fact that it would have likely worsened Rhaenyra's punishment. Despite their recent differences, she was still his wife, foolishness or not.
He'd heard the rumours. Rhaenyra had been bewitched by an evil Essosi woman who wished to gain control over the Iron Throne. She'd been bespelled into killing Otto Hightower and even almost committed Kinslaying by attacking her half-sister, Helaena. It was only the brave acts of Cregan Stark and Aemond Targaryen that stopped her until the curse ran out.
Apparently, Otto and Viserys's youngest, Daeron, had killed the Essosi witch somehow, though Daemon doubted many of these rumours; he already knew for a fact that many of them were false. If he had to guess, the witch had been overwhelmed by a squad of Hightower guards, not a small child and an old man who did not know how to fight.
Nevertheless, Daemon cared little for the falsehoods of the court; he was more preoccupied with Rhaenyra. He had only set his eyes upon her with the rest of the realm, in the Throne Room, where Viserys had stripped her of her status as his heir. She had looked thinner, paler, and in pain. It was a very harsh contrast to the powerful woman that Daemon had married. Perhaps it was because of the magic. It was well-known that magic was a sword without a hilt, and while the Potters seemed far too competent with it, Daemon had learned that they were the exception as opposed to the norm.
Daemon was escorted by one of the Kingsguard. They numbered six now, instead of seven, with Ser Crispin being revealed as the coward that he was before the realm and taking the Black out of shame. Good riddance, he would say.
Nevertheless, he was escorted to a room in a rarely used wing of the Red Keep, and Rhaenyra's 'prison'. Despite her actions and loss of status as Viserys's heir, she was still treated like a princess of House Targaryen. The room itself was large, filled with luxuries that would likely feed a small village for moons at a time, and it was finally when
Finally, the Kingsguard left, and Daemon finally found himself looking at his wife. He immediately winced as he looked at her. Her dress was stained with wine. Her hair was unkept, her eyes had bags beneath them as if she had not slept in some time.
Her eyes were red, but distant, and despite the rage she felt at her actions, he couldn't help but pity her. He sat next to her and spoke up, "Rhaenyra?"
His wife's eyes gained clarity as she heard his voice. She turned to him and smiled, "Daemon…"
"Are you well?" he couldn't help but ask.
"My father has abandoned me, taken away his heirship. I have not been allowed to see my children. He… He took away Syrax, Daemon."
Daemon suppressed the urge to wince as he had been the one who asked that the children not see her. However, he sympathised with the fact that she had lost her access to Syrax. A Targaryen without a dragon was a terrible thing indeed, though he could see the wisdom of the decision. Rhaenyra was obviously not well, and he did not like the idea of her having access to a dragon.
She walked up to the balcony and looked up, her eyes looking visibly calmer than before, "I stand here each day and watch the city move on as if I were already dead. My title, my birthright, my very place in this world, all stripped from me as though I were some disgraced court lady." She turned back to him, eyes shining with something brittle. "Daemon… help me. Help me reclaim what was taken. I cannot do this alone. You are my husband, Daemon. It is your duty…"
The Rogue Prince knew that he should not have gotten angry at her, that Rhaenyra was not well, but alas, controlling his temper had always been an issue with him. He felt his anger flare, as she had not even attempted to apologise for what she had done to him, to her cause, to everyone. He looked at her, his eyes blazing, and interrupted her, "My duty! You dare speak to me of duty after what you have done, Rhaenyra."
"I was under a spell…" His wife protested.
He scoffed at that, "Who are you trying to fool, Rhaenyra? I was there. You let that witch… That witch may have imprisoned me in my own flesh, but my senses were not dulled, even under that cursed spell. You accepted that bargain, wife, and the consequences of that act rest on your shoulders. Viserys may have had the mercy of lying on your behalf to the realm… again, but do not fall into the delusion that you committed no wrongs."
He still remembered that day, the feeling of being helplessly stuck in his own body, seeing his wife being fooled into accepting a bargain which involved magic in some way, all because of her fear of the Potters clouding her judgement, a fear that had made her lose everything.
After a brief moment, Rhaenyra spoke up, though her tone was far more subdued, "I had no choice…"
Once more, Daemon interrupted her, almost growling at her refusal to take any sort of responsibility for what she had done, "You had every choice."
"The Potters are a threat…"
"A threat to what, exactly? Haven't you lost enough because of your foolishness? I asked you to stay away from the Potters for your own sake, and you called me short-sighed. Look at you now, at what you have done because you simply refused to listen."
He had spent a great deal of effort ensuring that Rhaenyra would not do anything foolish regarding the Potters. He had seen what they were capable of, and in doing so, learned to put aside his pride when dealing with them. Even the mightiest of dragons could not compete with Harry Potter, with the man who could walk the threads of time and fate, who had destroyed the largest fortress on the continent in seconds.
Rhaenyra scoffed, "I thought you would have been happy at the very least that Otto Hightower is dead."
And that statement, if anything, made Daemon even angrier than the lack of admission of her own mistakes, for it had been a topic that he did not like to think about when he could, "Happy? I am not happy, Rhaenyra. Otto Hightower was a vile, grasping second son who would have done anything to fulfil his ambitions. And now, he will be remembered as a loving father who gave his life for the sake of his daughter, who had bravely fought and defeated a vile witch alongside his grandson, and now even his wretched line would sit on the Iron Throne. Otto won, Rhaenyra. In death, he had achieved everything that he could ever want. No, you gave him everything that he wanted in your foolishness."
And hadn't that been a realisation? At any other moment, Daemon would have relished the idea of Otto Hightower's death. The worm who had manipulated his brother for years would be gone, and Daemon would finally return to his brother's side, perhaps even become his Hand.
Unfortunately, Rhaenyra's folly had all but guaranteed that the man's ambitions would be fulfilled, horrible as they may be. Aegon was all but guaranteed to sit on the Iron Throne under a Great Council, something that even Corlys Velaryon had respected, and for good reason. He would be remembered as a hero, not the roach that he truly was.
"The Great Council can go many ways, Daemon. My father claimed that all who share his blood could be candidates in the Great Council, and that includes me," Rhaenyra commented, and Daemon looked at her in disbelief.
He did not know if she mistook his disbelief for excitement, but she continued, "You won my father his crown once during the first Great Council. You treated with the Lords and Ladies of the realm, convinced them to choose my father over the Velaryons despite their wealth and the strength of Rhaenys's claim. This is no different."
"No, Rhaenyra, this is very different. Your father did not attempt to commit Kinslaying before half of the realm just days before. Your father was not involved in a scandal that involved the influence of a foreign power and sorcery, which involved most of these lords being attacked while under the protection of the Iron Throne. Your father also had King Jaehaerys's approval, while the King has shown the realm that you no longer have his protection nor his blessing." He listed, hoping to dissuade her from pushing things in the Great Council.
It was clear that she would lose, and offering any sort of concessions or threats to the Lords of the realm would be nothing but a waste of gold and effort.
"What of Jace's claim?" his wife asked after a pause, not able to refute his arguments.
This time, Daemon openly scoffed, "Even you would have a better chance at being chosen in the Great Council than a bastard, Rhaenyra. You need to let the matter go, Rhaenyra."
"I will not have my birthright stolen from me, Daemon."
"Rhaenyra," he tried, trying to be as gentle as possible with her despite his burning frustration at her actions, "What you have done… It has consequences. Gods know that I wish that we just remained on Dragonstone, but that does not change what you have done. You need to take some time to think and not act rashly. Not again."
Unfortunately, Rhaenyra would not let it go, "So, you would have me let them win. You would let Otto Hightower's ghost sit on the throne in your stead. Let his line rule over ours. You would bow to his spawn and call them your King, as he looks down on you from the Iron Throne."
Daemon felt his blood pump in his veins as he grasped the heat of his temple at her insinuation. He disliked her words with a passion, but he spent every drop of control he had trying to stave off the urge to react.
Rhaenyra's voice softened as she continued, "How will they remember you, I wonder? A rogue prince. A king's brother. A husband to a princess and nothing more. And I would be nought but a claimant to the throne, a footnote in history alongside you. You were meant for more than that. We were meant for more than that. You once toppled a kingdom to put my father on the throne. You bent the lords to your will. You carved your name into the Stepstones with fire and blood. And now? You would fade away into history as a man who watched his wife be cast aside, who let a council of sheep decide the fate of our house?"
"Do not speak to me about our house's legacy, Rhaenyra!" Daemon snapped back, losing some of his composure, "Especially when you were the one who nearly saw it torn apart!"
"You once vowed that you were my shield, Daemon, my sword against those who would usurp me, that together we would bring back the glory of Old Valyria, that we would rise to higher heights than even the Conqueror, finish what he had started by bringing Dorne into the Seven Kingdoms."
Daemon… Daemon did not say anything. They had said this to one another when they married, and he would admit that he had been angry at the world for Laena's death. She used this opportunity to continue, "We were to leave our marks on the world, not fade away into obscurity as lesser people tried to claim what is ours by right. We must do as our ancestors would have, as Aegon the Conqueror would have. I say that we protect what is ours, and if my father is too weak, too blinded by his own lies to help, then we shall have no recourse but fire and blood. I ask of you, husband, are you with me?"
Was she… Was she truly suggesting what he thought she was? Was she suggesting that they finally set aside the useless politicking and wage a war, a war against Viserys's decision, against the Small Council?
It did sound glorious, the idea of conquering the world around them, of finally becoming the warrior that he was always meant to be once more. Things had never felt more… right than they have during a war. He could feel his hands twitching at the glory of it all, at how much he ached for the fact that the world would remember him.
He had often reminisced about his days in the Stepstones. Daemon was always a warrior at heart, and he had spent his life without a war for so long. However, certain images flashed in his mind, memories of a conversation he had in Dragonstone, on a beach. He remembered fire, dragons falling, his daughters succumbing to fates worse than death, and slowly, but surely, his breathing righted itself, his blood felt tempered, and his hand steadied.
He opened his mouth and muttered, "No."
Rhaenyra almost gasped in shock at this answer, "What?"
"No… I cannot, not anymore. I vowed to myself that I would be a good father to my children, to our children. I will not risk their lives, their futures in a war between dragons, not when I know how it would all end, not when it is to make up for your own folly. If only you had listened to me… If it is a war that you seek, Rhaenyra, then you will wage it without my children or me."
That… That felt right, hadn't it? There had always been an urge to protect his children, to see to their safety, but it had never quite occurred to him just how much that urge was more important than his family, than being a good father. He smiled faintly at the realisation, feeling some peace settle inside him.
"What of my children? Jace, Luke, and Joffrey's dragons will grow. They will support me." Rhaenyra spoke up.
Daemon shook his head in disappointment, "You would send your children, whose dragons could barely be ridden, against Sunfyre and Vhagar?"
His wife glared violently at him without saying a word. Viserys had called the Great Council as a mercy for Rhaenyra's children. Daemon knew his brother and his soft heart when it came to these boys. Had it been him in Rhaenyra's place, Viserys would have simply named Aegon his heir and been done with it. For her to repay this mercy by using these very boys to wage war… Daemon found himself disliking it more and more. He had his issues with Viserys over the years, but never once would he have ever entertained the idea of waging war against him. It seemed that Rhaenyra was not the same.
He looked away from her and towards the Blackwater, "I am glad that your mother is dead, for she would not see what you have become, Rhaenyra."
Rhaenyra released a howl as she tried to hit him, only for him to expertly move away from her. She fell down to her knees and released a choked gasp, half fury, half disbelief, and his mother's voice whispering, "You would abandon me when I need you most."
The Rogue Prince gave her a pitying look, "I wish… I wish things had been different. But for now, I think that we need to spend some time apart, for your sake and that of your children. I do not think that they should see you, not like this."
And just like that, Daemon turned and left, while doing his best not to look back at his wife. He ignored her desperate and angry screams with a heavy heart. He… He had not known what to expect from this conversation. Perhaps it was some sort of closure, or an apology for what she had done to him, for ignoring and dismissing his advice. Perhaps he had hoped that things would return to how they used to be, that it was just some lapse of judgment on Rhaenyra's part.
All he knew was that he did not find what he was looking for. Daemon sincerely hoped that she would find some sense once the rage burned itself out. Until she had, he would take care of the children. For now, that would have to be enough.
He walked on, jaw tight, breath steadying. Behind him, Rhaenyra's screams dwindled into hoarse sobs, then into silence.
As he did, Daemon did not notice the small familiar figure of Jacaerys Targaryen running away in the distance, nor did he notice the piercing green eyes that followed the boy's hurried steps.
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AN: I had planned on this chapter being a Jacaerys POV, but I rewrote it at the last minute since I thought that a Daemon POV would be more fitting, since this chapter is meant to show his growth and added a small segment to continue with Jacaerys later. Rhaenyra is sort of meant to be delusional. She's in denial about the fact that she's not the heir anymore and tries to manipulate Daemon to get it back, knowing which buttons to push, not expecting it to fail, though a part of me wonders if I've overdone it a bit. Also, I know that you guys like the historical section, and the next chapter should have one. I'm kinda excited to write it, to be honest. As usual, please let me know what you think and if you have any suggestions.
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If you want to support me, check out my patréon at https://www.patréon.com/athassprkr
I tend to upload drafts of early chapters on there to get people's opinions on them, so you can read up to 20 chapters ahead as a bonus.
Thank you guys for your support in these hard times.