Chapter 37

Chapter 37

ALICENT HIGHTOWER

The sound of a child crying made her hasten her steps as she walked towards the nursery. The exhaustion from the travel had resulted in her sleeping for a bit longer than she had expected, and as she had expected, Aenar had begun crying.

As she stepped into the nursery, she found herself surprised as a smile appeared on her face as she found someone else standing there already, holding a small bundle in her arms lovingly as the nursemaids stood by the side attentively.

Rhaenyra smiled as she saw her walk in and gave her a nervous look.

"I promise, he was crying before I even came in," she explained, and she chuckled as she walked up to her friend and took the crying baby from her.

"Don't worry about it. He always does this in the morning," and the only reason she had even gotten some sleep after the birth was that Aenys had ordered the nursemaids to take him away so she could get proper rest.

She looked at the child in her arms and felt a sense of ease and care flooded her heart. Before his birth. She had been anxious about becoming a mother, yet now, as she held her son in her arms, the sense of love and compassion she felt for it was something completely foreign to her.

As soon as Aenar settled in her arms, he became quiet, much to the consternation of her Rhaenyra, who pouted and looked at the little bundle in her arms with a hurt look.

"And here I had been trying to soothe him for all this time?" she complained scandalously, and Alicent just chuckled as she moved towards the chairs and sat down.

"Now that he quiet, tell me, how are you?" Alicent began as Rhaenyra took the seat opposite to her; they hadn't had the opportunity to talk extensively since yesterday, for she had been exhausted from all her travel.

She saw Rhaenyra hesitate as she slowly nodded.

"It's been tough. I don't think the pain will ever lessen," she spoke in a shaky tone.

"I still miss her, you know. Sometimes I imagine perhaps things might have been different had I not left for Braavos that night," and Alicent reached for her friend's hand, who was wallowing in guilt.

"I know how you feel," she spoke, and she did. She had felt similarly when she had lost her own mother, her own father too lost in the running of the kingdom to pay any attention to her, and her younger brother. In the end, she had learned a valuable lesson.

"And I am here for you, now and always, for anything you need, and so is Aenys," she assured her. For these were the words she had needed to hear then and were perhaps the words anyone needed to hear in such a situation.

Rhaenyra nodded and gave her a small smile.

"I know," she added, "though where is he. I haven't seen him since the morning," asked Rhaenyra, and Alicent replied.

"He went to see your father in the morning. He plans to start him on some new medications he brought him. He thinks they might help in dealing with his illness," and she saw Rhaenyra's eyes widen, and a glint of hope appeared in them.

"He has a cure for father's illness!" she spoke in a surprised tone, but she shook her head, having made the same mistake yesterday when Aenys had talked with her.

"No, not a cure. But he thinks that your father's illness shares a connection with the illness that Lady Maegella had," she began, and Rhaenyra frowned.

"But didn't she have consumption? How could this be related to that," she questioned, and she could only shrug.

"I don't know much, but I believe he said that they both are caused by similar agents. Nevertheless, he has been working on a cure for consumption for some time now. He thinks that some of those medications could help manage your father's illness," she told him, and Rhaenyra nodded.

"Ohh," and her enthusiasm had lessened considerably. And she could understand why, the King's health was in a precarious situation according to Aenys. She herself had been surprised when she had first caught a glimpse of the King.

"Can I ask you something, Alicent?" suddenly Rhaenyra added, and Alicent nodded. Her tone had been very serious, and Rhaenyra suddenly waved at the servants to leave the room, making her frown at what kind of discussion required such secrecy.

The servants were quick to listen to her orders and left the room, leaving her anxious as she saw Rhaenyra hesitate before she finally spoke up.

"I believe you must have heard that Father wishes for me to marry someone," and Alicent nodded, slowly understanding the need for secrecy.

"Yes, you mentioned it in one of your letters," Alicent nodded, as her own eyes narrowed.

"And have you decided on whom you want to marry?" Alicent guessed and saw Rhaenyra nod, though she didn't miss how she was chewing her lips and looking somewhat hesitant.

"Come on tell me, who is it?" she asked, encouraging her friend to speak up.

"Uhhh, it's….., Gwayne Hightower," and for a moment, Alicent couldn't believe her ears, believing her friend to burst into a laugh at the jape.

Yet the laugh never came, and her eyes widened as she looked at Rhaenyra.

"My younger brother Gwayne!"

0000

AENYS TARGARYEN

"A tourney?" he spoke with a frown, looking towards the master of laws, and the master of laws nodded.

"Yes, my Prince. A tourney, the king has ordered for a tourney to be arranged in a month's time to celebrate your return to the capital," and Aenys nodded, though he was a bit queasy about this whole ordeal.

Aenys then looked towards Viserys, who was being looked at by his healers as they documented his wounds and applied ointment to his skin. Through extensive trial and error, he had discovered a rudimentary ointment to manage his condition.

Interestingly, it was an oil extracted from a tree they had found in Yi-Ti. He had been gifted the tree as a form of compensation by one of the people he had healed. He had then had the tree planted in his glass gardens, and now that one little actions was acting as a blessing for him.

'Tuvrak' was the name of the tree, and he had instructed his men to source more of its oil.

"Is it really appropriate having a tourney?" questioned Aenys, referring to the death of the Queen, which had just occurred a couple of months ago. But Viserys nodded as the healer moved back.

"Yes, It is time," he replied, and Aenys just nodded as the healer gave him a nod having finished applying the ointment.

"As you say," Aenys replied as he motioned for the healer to leave. As Viserys sat straight and looked at his scars and the ointment that had been applied to them.

"And are you sure this will work?" Viserys questioned him, and Aenys nodded.

"It should. It's an oil from a tree that is found in Yi-Ti. It should help in controlling the disease," Aenys assured her and saw Viserys nod as his servants helped him put on a shirt.

"Now, I believe there is something else I wanted to talk to you about," Viserys began, and as Lord Strong moved to leave the room, he was stopped by Viserys.

"No, Lord Strong, you should stay as well," said Viserys as he motioned for the Master of Laws to take a seat. Then, Viserys turned to face him and spoke up.

"I wanted to hear your opinion about something," he began, and Aenys nodded, already having an inking about what this was about.

"I have been made aware by the Council that the realm needs a Queen," he began, and I looked towards Lord Strong, who nodded.

"No one will be able to replace Aemma, yet I also believe that the position of the Queen cannot be left vacant for so long," he ventured, and Aenys could only nod.

"And you have reached a decision on whom shall take the position," Aenys guessed, and Viserys shook his head.

"No, not yet. It is what I want to talk to you about," Viserys began, and Aenys nodded. There was silence in the room before he finally uttered a name he hadn't been expecting.

"Laena Velaryon," uttered Viserys, and Aenys leaned back into his seat as his mind raced about the implications behind such a match.

When Aenys didn't immediately react, Viserys turned towards Lord Strong, who replied slowly.

"Lady Laena, Lord Corlys's daughter. She has an appropriate name and heritage. She holds the lineage of both House Targaryen and House Velaryon. It would also help mend the cracks that were formed during the great Council," Lord Strong championed, and they were all good points, in hindsight.

"Are you sure about this," Aenys cut in. His skepticism caught both Viserys and Lord Strong off guard, evident by the frown on their faces,

And that was the problem. House Velaryon, despite their recent troubles, held considerable influence given their massive fleet and wealth. The House also had two dragon riders and were very closely related to the Royal line. Some would say even too closely.

"What do you mean? I thought you would be supportive of such a match," and Aenys ignored the taunt hidden in there for the misconception that he supported Rhaneys at the time their grandfather had called for the great council.

"Laena Velaron is a good match. However, you must understand that if you were to be blessed with a son through such a match," and Aenys left the rest unsaid for both of them were wise enough to understand what would happen.

Lord Strong nodded and began to think about this.

"Indeed, the Prince is right…."

"But don't you think contemplating about such a scenario is immature, I have declared Rhaenyra as my heir and don't plan to change my decision," Viserys cut in from the side, and he didn't miss that Lord Strong was surprised by the King's words unlike him.

"And there lies the problem," making Viserys frown as he looked towards him.

"And what may that be?" Viserys questioned.

"Do you really think that House Velaryon, a house that was denied what they consider to be their right, will stand for that?" Aenys questioned, and Viserys became quiet at that.

"Moreover, I am not blind to the happenings of the capital. I can see the rift between you and Daemon, and do you think he will stand for your decision," Aenys questioned and saw Viserys flush in rage as he replied.

"You speak of treason, my Prince. The lords swore their fealty to the Princess, I don't believe that things could become so dire," Lord Strong cut in.

"I do," Aenys replied as he looked toward the learned man.

"For all her blessings, Rhaenyra is a girl. And the lords of the realm are stubborn and set in their ways. They will not let a woman rule over them," Aenys replied.

"I am King. It is my decision!" he nearly roared, and Aenys shrugged.

"Yes, I am not denying it. And this is why I argued against Grandfather calling a council all those years ago," and he saw Viserys's eyes widen as he said those words. Lord Strong now also realized for the first time the reason for his anger at the old man.

"I see," Lord Strong said, looking at him with wide eyes.

"To foresee such a thing…" and while Lord Strong appeared to be impressed, Aenys didn't miss how Viserys was looking at him with a complicated gaze, his mind racing as those amethyst orbs stared at him with an intense gaze.

Silence reigned in the chambers to be only cut by Viserys's words.

"Lord Strong, give me some time alone with my brother," and with that, the Master of Laws nodded and stood up.

"Of course, your grace," and with that, the man left the room as Viserys motioned towards the servants as well.

"Leave us," and the servants were quick to follow his words as they left the room, leaving him alone with Viserys, who continued to stare at him with an intense gaze.

They sat there in silence, with the crackle of fire the only sound in the room as Viserys continued to stare at him before he finally spoke up.

"Do you know I was the last person to see Grandfather when he died?" Viserys began, and Aenys was surprised by those words, as his mind raced to process the implication behind them.

"Do you know what his last words were? Those words have hung over me ever since I sat on that throne," he added with a forlorn chuckle. Aenys felt his body become cold, as he finally realized what had happened.

"I went in to see him, alone as he was on his death bed, with no one else in the room. His successor, the heir to his throne, the next King of the Seven Kingdoms, stood there right infront of him, and do you know what he said," he said, and Aenys closed his eyes.

"He should have been king… should have been the king. He knew…. He knew…. I should have…." Viserys repeated in a husky tone, trying to mimic their grandfather's tone.

"I had always thought that they spoke of our father or perhaps of our uncle, Aenys. Yet now, I understand that they spoke of neither of them," Viserys cut in.

"He spoke of you, Aenys Targaryen…."

"Visery…." But his brother stopped him as he raised his hand.

"No more lies. Aenys. No more," Viserys said in a somewhat broken tone.

"I cannot believe how I missed it all those years. Your behavior, your knowledge, everything it all makes sense now," Viserys continued.

"You opposed grandfather for the council, you going to the Citadel, helping cure our Aunt, it was all there. Right in front of us," he said as he looked at him with wide eyes as he uttered those cursed words.

"You are like her! Daenys, the dreamer. You have been blessed with dreams!"

0000

In the expansive city of Kingsladning, one of the biggest manses in the city stood near the street of the steel, surrounded by Gold Cloaks, who mostly took their command from the Targaryen residing within its Halls.

An old man, dressed in the finest of silks with a golden key hanging from his neck, stepped out of the manse, guarded by men dressed in foreign attire, an attire which was common to the Free City of Braavos. The hoards of men stepped out of the manse and began to make their way through the streets of the city, and as they passed through a busy street, where builders and masons worked to build the first center of healing for the massive city, a messenger approached the old man.

The guards were quick to stop the man. However, the messenger took out the missive and showed the Bravo's the seal inscribed into it. A simple red cross on a white field.

And hours later, a raven would fly out of the Red Keep, a missive tied to its foot, its beak pointed in the direction of the Narrow Sea, as it flapped its wings and strode across the vacant skies towards the free city of Braavos.

0000

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