Chapter 17-And the Crows Feast!

Chapter 17

ALICENT HIGHTOWER

The death of Queen Aemma Arryn had hit everyone hard, especially Rhaenyra, who had been apoplectic when she had heard of the news. She was there when the servant had come to inform them of the tragedy, and immediately, Rhaenyra had rushed into the castle. despite the attempts from various servants and acolytes, she had entered the birthing chambers, and Alicent could scarcely reimagine the scene she had witnessed inside those chambers.

The lifeless body of the Queen was covered in blood, which had soaked the sheets and the ground, as the Queen lay there with her belly cut open, and the most tragic of it was how the King stood to the side, holding an unmoving babe, the very babe he had just sacrificed his wife for.

Rhaenyra's screams had shaken the entire castle, her grief unimaginable, and Alicent understood that grief, the anger, better than anyone, having lost her own mother a few years ago. And yet for Rhaenyra, the more suffocating was the fact that her mother had lost her life to her own father's obsession with a son.

And now, hours after that day, as the Sun lay set and the cloak of darkness began to put a balm on the wounds from the day, she finally left Rhaenyra's room as the Princess succumbed to sleep, getting a short respite from all the crying and wailing.

As she stepped out of her room, she was greeted by a familiar sight: Prince Aegon stood leaning against the wall beside the door.

"Prince Aegon," she greeted him mildly, and he nodded.

"How is she?" he asked, his eyes dull and his expression dulled by grief.

"Not good," she answered as she bit her lip.

"I never should have let her enter the birthing chambers. The sight of her own mother cut open and de... No daughter should ever have to witness such a scene," she added, and that same sentiment had been eating away at her for hours now as she held her friend in her grief.

"Indeed. No one shall ever have to witness such a gruesome sight," he added as he walked towards the border and leaned down on it.

"Yeah, that was a sight no child should see," he repeated, and she joined him with pursed lips.

"How is your grace?" she asked.

"The King has secluded himself in his own quarters and has asked not to be disturbed. The only command that has come is about the funeral, which is set to take place early tomorrow morning," and the King himself was grieving the loss of a life.

And a dark, angry corner of her heart wished for the King to suffer just as Queen Aemma had, for it had been his obsession that had killed her. Five times she had tried to give him an heir in twice as many years, and she had failed, and yet he had refused to back off, refused to let her rest properly as he forced her to do her duty, with no care for her well being, mental and otherwise.

She had been at court long enough to see the changes in the Queen with her own eyes, on how thin she had become, how, over the years, with each loss, her eyes had lost that glint, how her smiles had become hollow, her flesh pale and her very soul torn asunder.

"So, he is alone?" she asked, and Aegon nodded.

"Yes, Prince Daemon is asleep because of the injuries he sustained during the match. I think the maesters gave him the poppy milk because of the pain, and so he is asleep because of that," and that was a surprise.

Prince Daemon, the famed prodigy, was felled by a baseborn knight from the Stormlands. Had it not been for the tragedy that had come, the Prince would have lost the duel and the bout, causing an uproar, for he was the favourite to win the joust.

Though a part of her had been relieved at his loss, for had he won that bout, his next match would have been against Aegon. And she, of all people, knew of how the Prince gazed at his son and how he was not fond of dirty tricks.

"You should go rest. I have taken enough of your time," he said as he gave her a nod.

"You should go as well. You have a long day ahead of you tomorrow," she added. He must have been far more tired than her. He had ridden in three bouts, and the news of Queen's demise must not have been easy for him as well.

And with that he began to walk away, as Alicent stood there watching his retreating back until she softly called after him.

"And Aegon," he halted at her words, turning his head to face her as she gulped and continued.

"I am sorry for your loss," and she saw his eyes widen. His face morphed into a complicated expression as he turned away and continued walking, leaving her with a question.

'Why are you filled with so much guilt, Aegon?'

0000

RHAENYRA TARGARYEN

"I am not going," she tore the servant who had come to call upon her as her eyes burn.

"But your gra..."

"You can tell the King that he can light her pyre himself just like he killed her," she raged at the servant, as the visuals from the birthing chamber filled her mind once more, making her stomach turn as she turned away and plopped down on the bed once more.

"But pr..."

"LEAVE ME!" she shouted, her voice muffled by the bedding.

"B..."

"OUT! ALL OF YOU!" she roared, and finally, the servants left the room, and once more, she felt her eyes tear up as she felt all alone in her room. She was angry, at herself, at the world, at her father for what they had done to her mother.

She had always known that she was not enough, that her father desired a son, and that she needed to secure his place on the throne. It was a natural thing for a King to seek a successor, yet she had always believed that he loved her mother more than that successor.

And yet when she had walked into that birthing chamber and watched the body of her mother cut open, with her blood seeping onto the floor, the bedding dying it all red, she had realized just how wrong she was.

Her father cared little for her mother, little for her. He only cared for his heir. A son to carry his name.

KNOCK. KNOCK

"I said leave me alone!" she roared as she heard her door being knocked on.

And yet, despite her instructions, the door was opened, and she heard someone enter the room.

"It is me Aegon," came the answer and she turned around and found her cousin entering her room.

"So, Father sends you," she shouted at him, scoffing as she turned away.

"Tell him that he can light the pyre himself. I am not going," she said, but he did not answer at first.

"I am afraid the King does not know that I am here," he replied, making her frown as she turned towards him.

"Then why are you here?" she asked.

"To stop you from making a mistake," he said softly as he walked upto her and sat down beside her.

"What mistake?" she roared, the pain and scream making her voice hoarse and crack as she bit her lip and tried her hardest to keep back the tears threatening to come out.

"I know that you are angry and sad, and no matter what people may say, none can understand how you feel," he began slowly.

Of course, they did not. It was she who had lost her mother, not them. Not anyone else. How could they know what she was going through?

"But I do not want you to make a mistake in your anger. I know you loved the Queen, lover her more than anyone els..."

"Then she should have said something!" she roared, and the dam broke as she turned onto him.

"She should have said something. She should have stopped! WHY DID SHE LEAVE ME! TELL ME!" she roared at him as Aegon gently wrapped his arms around her.

"Because she was much more than your mother. She was a queen; she was a wife and much more. We are not all just one thing," he whispered, and she felt her arms grow weak as she began hiccup and began to wail.

"She should have said something. He should have done something. Why did she leave me? Why?" she wailed even though she knew that there was no answer to her question, that this was all useless, and yet she cried her heart out in his arms, letting her pain unravel with her tears.

They stayed that way for minutes—hours until she finally pushed him away and looked him in the eyes.

"I will be there," she said, and he nodded.

"Alicent is outside. I will tell her to come in and help you dress," he said. He stood up and began to walk away, and as he was about to open the door, he stopped.

"I did not get to know the Queen for a long time, but in the short time that I did, I can say one thing with absolute certainty," he began as he glanced at her.

"Of all her roles, the one she cared about the most was being your mother."

.

.

.

And so, after an hour she walked through a throng of gathered lords and ladies, clad in a black dress with Alicent and Aegon behind right behind her as she walked upto the platform where the bodies of the Queen and Prince Baelon were placed.

Her father stood there, head hung low, face pale, and eyes puffy, and she saw him look into her eyes with pain, agony, and guilt. He seemed to have aged years in a single day, and despite her hatred and rage, seeing him look so miserable made her wish to scream and rage, and even run upto him and wrap her arms around him.

And yet she did neither as she walked upto her mother's body and closed her eyes.

"Goodbye," she said and walked back. Syrax lept forward without any command as if reading her mind.

She looked to the side once more and saw tears run down her father's face, and missed how her own vision had grown hazy as she wiped away her eyes before she stilled her heart.

"Syrax!" she shouted, and the dragon rumbled at her command.

"Dracarys!"

0000

OTTO HIGHTOWER

It had been nearly two days since the death of the Queen, and the whole realm was still reeling from the shock. The Queen, while not as beloved as the Good Queen, was sympathetic to the plights of the people of Kingslanding and had continued much of the good work started by the Good Queen.

And yet the Queen was gone, and they had a political headache on their hands. One that would soon rear its head and swallow this very council and the whole realm.

King Viserys entered the Council chambers with tired eyes and lethargic steps, his eyes scanning the room as he made his way to his own seat as they all rose in respect.

"Where is Rhaenyra?" the King questioned, and his devotion to his daughter had been there for all to see.

The King had made all the lords wait for an hour while the Princess refused to come and light hit the funeral pyre, and despite many interventions, the King had refused to set aside his daughter who would come an hour later. They would both grieve together and retire to the castle together afterward.

"We decided that it was best to not disturb the Princess, given how hard the last few days have been for her, more so that the topic the council wished to discuss is highly far too sensitive," he cut in slowly and saw the King nod.

"And what topic may that be?" Viserys asked, glancing towards the empty seat beside himself.

"The matter of succession," and he saw the whole room still at those words as the Master of Laws frowned.

"What of it, Lord Hand?" Lyonel Strong cut in.

"Indeed, the succession is set by laws and tradition. What is there to discuss about it?" Corlys Vealryon added from his own seat, taking a sip of wine.

"I believe that it is imperative for the stability of the realm that the appropriate succession is in place," he added sharply and saw Lord Corlys frown.

"But the King already has an heir, Daemon Targaryen, the King's younger brother," Lord Corlys continued, and he closed his eyes.

"Daemon is cruel, apathetic and ambitious. No one knows what he would do if he were to sit in the Iron Throne, and the realm cannot bear that," he argued. He saw everyone staring at him, even the King, who was frowning.

"Look at what he did, the Gold Cloaks. He has made an army out of the city watch, a ruthless army loyal only to him," he argued.

"And that was your solution," the King pointed out sharply. And indeed, a wrong move it had been. In order to lower his influence at court, Otto had advised the King to make Daemon the Commander of the City Watch, a benign position of relatively no power in comparison to his previous positions as Master of Coin and Laws.

Yet Daemon had defied his expectations, transformed the order, and made it into an army loyal to him. And though the small fold and the lords made fun of him calling him the lord of Flea Botton only he saw it all for the danger it all was.

"A half measure of your grace; the truth is that Prince Daemon should be nowhere near the course..."

"Daemon is my brother," the King retaliated, forcing him to pull back. He had spoken out too much.

"And he will have his place at my court." The King finished.

"Of course, your grace. But the succession is another matter. Prince Daemon will be another Maegor. He is a man who is reviled by his own wife and son. How could a person like that rule over Seven Kingdoms and keep them at peace," he petitioned and saw the King's lips thin, for there was no rebuttal to that.

"Your grace, given the circumstances, it would not be wrong of the Crown to name a successor," the Grand Maester added.

"You are not talking about disinheriting one person, but the whole line of succession from Prince Daemon," Lord Strong spoke up, and Otto ground his teeth, surprised by the sheer opposition being shown by the man.

"Your grace, Prince Daemon, is not alone. He has a son. Removing Prince Daemon would be disinheriting his whole line for no apparent cause. This could cause major strife between the Crown and the Vale," Lord Strong added.

And it could, yet he needed to persuade the King to his side. The Queen's demise had left a power vacuum, and he could not let Daemon fill it up, furthering his position. For the realm's best interest, he needed to derive him out.

"The Vale has sworn oaths of loyalty to the Crown, and they shall keep them," he added.

"And yet your decision has the chance to tear the realm apart," Lord Strong roared, and the whole room became quiet.

"There are others who have a claim," lord Corlys added, and before he could intervene, Lord Strong spoke up.

"Like your wife, Lord Corlys. The Lady Rhaenys," he challenged, making it clear that this was his own opinion.

"She had a strong claim during the council."

"One that was rejected," Lord Strong cut in, and he watched the King rub his forehead as his fist balled up.

"Then who else would you name in Daemon's stead?" Lord Corlys questioned, and there was silence.

"The King's firstborn child," and Lord Strong scoffed.

"Princess Rhaenyra. You would break both law and tradition by naming her heir. No Queen has ever sat on the Iron throne," and he was surprised by this opposition.

"No matter. The realm cannot afford to have another Maegor on the..."

"ENOUGH!" the King roared, and they all cowered back at the sheer vehemence in that tone. The fires in the room danced as if fuelled by his rage as the King turned towards them all.

"MY wife and son and dead! DEAD! I will not have crows feast upon their corpses!" At that, he watched as everyone lowered their hands in shame while he gritted his teeth, considering whether calling this council meeting was a smart move or not.

Yet he had thought that delaying it any more would be giving Daemon a chance to sink his claws in the King.

"I will not be made to choose between my daughter and my brother. Yes, Daemon is impulsive and ambitious, but he is not Maegor. He is not a kinslayer like Maegor. Foul mouthed, angry, frustrating he may be, but he is my brother!" the King announced, and Otto's lips thinned as he realized his loss.

And after a second of silence, the King made his decision.

"The succession will remain as it is. I will not be made to choose between my brother and my daughter," he announced and rose to his seat, and before he could take his marble and signal the end of this council, Lord Beesbury spoke up for the first time.

"But your grace, you would not have to."

And outside the council chambers, a crow watched it all with perverse fascination as the small silhouette of a person standing outside the room vanished as the King sat down once more.

0000

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