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LuckyCheesecakeChapter 12: Chapter 11: UsurpersChapter Text

"When you said the Red Keep was a vicious place, I thought you exaggerating. Now, I realise you were understating."

-Ser Arya Stark the Lone Wolf, Sworn Sword of Prince Jaehaerys 'Jon' Targaryen

104 AC, Rhaenyra's room, Maegor's Holdfast

Ser Clement Crabb's sword left his scabbard with a smooth ring of steel. The noise snapping me back to reality. The old knight bared his blade at my Uncle, stepping protectively between us. I placed my hand on his wrist, lowering his sword as I stepped forward.

"Ser Crabb, would you kindly leave us. My uncle has requested we speak, I shall oblige." I calmly said, raising a finger when he opened his mouth to protest. "Stay outside the door, and ignore anything that is said in this room. But be ready to come in at any moment."

"Yes, Your Grace." He reluctantly said, leaving us alone. When the door shut with a snap, I turned and faced the Rogue Prince.

"Intruding on a Lady's quarters after the sun has set? Uncle, how positively scandalous." I mocked, forcing myself to stare into his cold indigo eyes. The very same eyes I had. He chuckled at that. The sound ominous and filled with the promises of doom.

"Even now? Your fearlessness and arrogance knows no bounds, niece." He said, half approving, half angry.

"I've been taught by a truly wicked woman how to turn any situation to my advantage." I calmly said, baring my teeth. "If I tried, I could have you banished or executed by sunup."

I was 99.9% sure my mother from my first life was a high-functioning sociopath. She had zero qualms about twisting the law, lying or using the exact wording of the terms and conditions to coerce the people she worked with. She'd literally ruined lives, and never batted an eye or even lost sleep over it. And while Mom was good at thinking on her feet, her main strength was her obsessive need to plan multiple contingency plans for every possible situation, flexible enough that it could be translated to fit different scenarios, but good enough to still get the job done. Most of the reason why my mother could never be blindsided, was that however someone tried to surprise her, she had already planned out what exactly to do in that exact situation.

My mother even coined a nice turn of phrase for it: 'Productive Paranoia'. Unlike most forms of paranoia, this was actually grounded. It had foundations. It wasn't King Aerys swinging at the air, convinced that anyone and everyone was out to get him. That type of paranoia was what she called 'Unproductive Paranoia'. This was more like Batman coming up with contingency plans for every possible situation, no matter how unlikely.

And really, which was more useful in the end?

Here's a hint: King Aerys was a maniac who doomed his dynasty, while Batman was one of the most successful superheros.

Plans to discredit rivals, promote herself, earn money. Marital problems, child problems, parental problems. Everything under the sun my mother had planned for. Such that when I brought Yuri home for the first time, Mom simply dusted off her plan on how a nineteen year old with his A levels looming could raise a daughter and still do a good job of it, before executing it. And it worked… well perfectly was a bit of a stretch, but by and large it went far far better than normally expected.

When my mother bragged that her life had zero curveballs, she wasn't lying.

I was nowhere nearby as paranoid or vicious as she was, but I had learnt a lot at her feet. Getting ambushed by Daemon in my room? Why, I had seven separate plans for this exact scenario, all tailored to accomplish goals ranging from making him my staunchest ally, or having him executed.

"An empty boast." Daemon accused.

"No? All I have to do is tell my father you assaulted me and tried to rape me." I casually stated, leaning confidently on the wall. "I'd have to ruin a dress, and probably get Laena to bruise me up a bit, but that's a cheap price to pay."

Daemon gritted his teeth in anger at that.

"I wonder if he'll geld you before the execution." I continued, letting out a girlish peal of laughter at the way his face contorted with fury. "Oh, maybe he'll cut off your manhood and feed it to the goats. I'm told that the Vale Mountain Clans do that to torture their enemies."

"You think yourself clever, niece, but cleverness means nothing at the end of a sword." He stated, drawing himself to his full height.

"You don't have a sword, remember?" I mocked, moving closer to the door. "I had Grandpapa strip it from you."

A knife bit into my desk, the Rogue Prince having drawn the blade from a hidden scabbard faster than I could see. He glared at me, and I glared back, painting boredom on my face.

"Killing me solves nothing." I said, swallowing my fear and panic. "Father will declare Rhaenys heir over his daughter's killer if he has to."

"Strip me of my children and lovers and sword. Steal my crown and throne away from me. Mock me endlessly like Mushroom. Rebuff my kindness and threaten me." He growled through gritted teeth. "I see you, Rhaenyra Targaryen. A spider, burrowing into the hearts of those whom approach you, hollowing them out until they are little more than puppets, doing your bidding.

"You whispered in the ears of my grandfather, and do the same with my brother. You've charmed my uncle and the court, caused Lord Corlys and my cousin to bend the knee, stolen dragons from our stock. How long until the Seven Kingdoms dance to your whims, Usurper?" He accused, voice full of bile and spite. "You are more dangerous than the Doom of Valyria itself. You are poison, entering the body disguised as wine. So sweet and charming and clever that people think that it is fine to let their guards down around you, that surely you would never harm them. Little do they know, that they've bargained away their very souls."

"And what will you do about that?"

"It's not what I'm going to do. It's about what you are." My uncle snarled, stalking forwards and looming over me. "You will relinquish your claim to the throne. I care not if you become a Septa, Maester or even Lord Commander of the Night's Watch, so long as you leave and never return. You will publicly admit that you forged King Jaehaerys' will, and that his true will declared me Prince of Dragonstone. And that you craved Dark Sister, which is why you stole it from me."

"No." I flatly said, not breaking eye contact with him.

"You do not have a choice." Daemon said, a dagger sliding into his hand.

"You do not want to do this." I warned. "I do not wish strife between us. Cease...urk!"

My voice stalled as a strong hand stuck forwards, viper quick, squeezing my small neck.

"I think, niece, you'll find that I do want to do this." The Rogue Prince softly said, tightening his grip.

Forcing myself to focus through my strangulation, I struck out, kicking open the door of my room, Ser Clement Crabb immediately leaping into action the second he saw Daemon. The Rogue Prince dropped me immediately, sidestepping the sword with a dancer's grace. I gasped for air, getting my feet beneath me and sprinting out of the room as the sound of fighting grew louder.

"Guards! Guards!" I screamed at the top of my lungs. "Prince Daemon tried to murder me!"

It was amazing how quickly men could come when the crown princess screamed. Ser Ryam Redwyne and Ser Robin Shaw barrelled down the hallway, swords drawn. Laena burst out of her room, arrow nocked in her bow. I pointed them towards Daemon and let Laena take me into her room. We shoved a chest of drawers in front of the door, and blocked the window with the closet.

Afterwards, the two of us just sat on her bed, holding each other tight. I don't remember falling asleep, but pounding on the door woke us up. We cautiously opened the door, Laena keeping her bow nocked as I clutched a dagger.

Princess Aemma entered into the room, and I dropped my blade. I ran up and buried my face in her dress, crying into the fabric. She whispered sweet nothings to me, patting my back and stroking my hair. We stayed like that for a long while, before I regained control of myself, redonning the mask of the perfect princess.

"What happened?" I asked, separating from my mother and moving over to the washbasin.

"Daemon has been arrested and is awaiting trial in the Black Cells." My mother reported as I cleaned up the tear stains and dabbed at my puffy eyes. "Sers Clement Crabb and Robin Shaw is dead. Daemon stabbed Ser Crabb and stole his sword, before using that to kill Ser Shaw and wound Ser Ryam. He was eventually subdued by a dozen men-at-arms. Four of whom died in the attempt."

"Fuck." I simply said, looking into the mirror and noticing how my neck was swollen with a horrid purple bruise. Laena produced a teal scarf for me, and I gratefully took it. "What's father's stance on this?"

"Your father is furious, Nyra." Aemma told me as I wrapped Laena's scarf around my neck, carefully covering the bruise while making it look fashionable. "He's intent on banishing Daemon from the Seven Kingdoms."

"That's not enough. Daemon murdered six men, including two of the Kingsguard, and attempted to murder the crown princess." I angrily stated. "Even the Wall is too kind for him. He should be executed immediately."

"For once, we are in agreement." My mother said. "But I have been unable to persuade your father. He refuses to become a kinslayer."

"Then take me to him." I snarled. "I'll get him to reconsider."