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Chapter 43: Chapter 33: OffersChapter Text

"They trust only family and fucking."

-Queen Alysanne Targaryen, regarding the Lords and Ladies of the Seven Kingdoms

110 AC, Red Keep,

I'd only just gotten back home from the opening ceremony of the Oldstones Canal, and everyone and their father seemed to know that I was now a maid flowered.

Marriage offers came in by the hundreds now. Every single House with an unmarried son or brother seemed intent on getting them into my bed. Which Laena could deeply hilarious.

I couldn't even complain about her belly laughter, considering that five years ago, I was the one rolling on the floor with laughter while Laena was the one lamenting all the marriage offers.

But even Laena was unprepared for just how many offers there were.

Lords from the Reach offered great works of craftsmanship and other luxuries for my hand, as though I were some shallow and vain trophy wife. Lords from the Vale offered to duel over my hand, like I was some prize bull to be given to the winner of a tourney. Lords of the Westerlands offered great sums of gold as dowers, as though I was a slavegirl for sale. Lords of the North offered great stretches of lands for my hand, as though I couldn't claim them with a decree. Lords from Beyond the Wall offered to slay my enemies for my hand, as though I needed their help to do so. Lords of the Crownlands sang songs, painted portraits and wrote poems about my beauty, as though I were some arts competition trophy. Lords of the Iron Islands offered exotic gifts and adventure from lands never heard of before, which might have been more tempting if their Gold Fleet was even halfway done.

The Lords of Dorne were bad, offering fealty for my hand, forgetting that I was already owed that as their superior and conquerer. As though I were some pushover whom would balk at spilling blood.

The Lords of the Riverlands were worse. Many of them, including Ser Harwin Strong, seemed to think that their families' many generations of service meant that I should marry them, as though I was some medal or trophy of good service.

But the Lords of the Stormlands were the worst. They—led by Borros Baratheon—seemed to think themselves entitled to my hand, as compensation for the ravages suffered during the War of Four Directions, as though I were some moneybag of alimony.

Even the Free Cities were getting involved these days.

Every single daughter of Valyria had offered hands in marriage, with scandalous boldness. The Braavosi offered me their coin and fleets for my hand. The Triarchy offered their sons, and their daughters. The Pentoshi offered to bend the knee if I wed a son of theirs, as though their attempts to use the Seven Kingdoms as a shield against Braavos to the north and the Triarchy to the south was not blatantly obvious. The Volantenes offered the hands of any of their sons, and all of them if I wanted. The Norvoshi offered to let me settle the Faith back in Andalos, as well as their mines. The Qohorik offered me their lumber, forges and foundries. Even the Lorathi got involved, but their gifts paled before the rest.

But nothing could compare to my family itself. Now that I had flowered, Lord Otto seemed determined to strip me of my princeship and marry me off to some lord at the edge of the world, badgering my father day in and day out about it. Including right now.

"For the last time, Otto. No!" Viserys shouted. "I will not name Aegon heir over Rhaenyra!"

"But sire, he is your son! Now that you have one, surely you do not need all of those convoluted legalities to declare Rhaenyra heir." Otto Hightower protested. "Strip her of her rank and return her to her place as a princess of the realm."

"The Haeshaeon rule is lifelong and cannot be revoked!" Viserys shot back. "Rhaenyra is my firstborn son. Now and forever."

"Bugger ancient laws from a dead civilisation." Otto cursed. "You are king, your word is law."

"And I rule that Rhaenyra will be king. You cannot change my mind!" Viserys thundered.

"Your grace, I agreed to naming Rhaenyra heir in order to avert a succession crisis when Queen Aemma died. However that was in the past. My daughter has borne you two sons now. It is an affront to the laws of the gods to strip sons of their rightful birthright." Otto declared.

"Lord Otto, have no fear. I shall grant my siblings lands and titles, such that they may have incomes to provide for themselves and homes to call their own." I spoke up. "Most of the Stormlands nobility is gone. There are dozens of uninhabited keeps and lands without rulers. I can name Aegon, Helaena and Aemond lords of great and powerful lands. Like Bronzegate or Estermont."

"Exactly!" Viserys enthused. "It is not like we're hanging them out to dry here. Shaeterys has been promised a lordship in the Vale. Surely you do not think that my children will get anything lesser?"

I'd promised Daena, Bell, Rhaegar and Daenys lordships as well, but all four demurred. Daena hadn't found a place she liked yet. Bell was eyeing a White Cloak. And Rhaegar and Daenys wanted to become maesters.

"That isn't the same!" Lord Otto shouted. "It's not about lands or incomes or powers. It's about what's right. Aegon is your rightful firstborn son and heir. He is—"

"Otto! I've already made it clear to the Lords and Ladies of the Seven Kingdoms, but I will do so again for you." My father shouted, thumping a finger on his Hand's chest. "Rhaenyra is my legal firstborn son and heir. Aegon is my second son. Second sons do not inherit over the first son. To do so is usurpation."

"Husband, please calm down." Alicent said, stepping between her father and husband. "Mayhaps we should compromise, no?"

My stepmother turned to face me.

"Aegon can wed Rhaenyra, uniting their claims to the Iron Throne. That should please both of you, no?" Alicent said as placatingly as possible.

I'd actually put serious thought into marrying Aegon. There were only four boys—three now, as Qoren Martell had knelt—worthy of my hand in Westeros, and Aegon was at the top of that list. But I'd never be able to hollow him out, not with Alicent breathing down my neck. It'd be a bloody reign worthy of Robert and Cersei, two quarrelling spouses married solely to avert a war. With children raised uncaringly before ending in mariticide. Plus, I was fundamentally against incest, so marrying him was a last resort.

"Aegon is near a decade younger than Rhaenyra. It wouldn't be a good match." Viserys protested.

"Then what about my cousin Ormund? He is closer to her in age, and heir to the Hightower." Alicent slyly suggested.

I looked admiringly at my stepmother. Damn, she was good. It was an inspired solution to the Dance of Dragons. Ormund Hightower was another one of the four boys in Westeros worthy of my hand. Wedding him would neatly quiet Hightower ambitions and secure Oldtown for myself. Neither Aegon nor Alicent would have a vested interest in usurping me if their cousin was in my bed, and his son a king. Ormund was only four years older than myself, like Laenor, and was a handsome lad.

He was actually the person I was leaning most towards marrying before Laena got involved, but his personality soured me. Gallant and chivalrous he may be, but he had a backbone. I couldn't hollow him out the way I could for Laenor. He'd make a poor husband, and would try wrest the crown from my brow, reducing me to his baby machine.

"Alas, I have already been betrothed to Laenor Velaryon, to unite our claims to the Iron Throne." I drawled. "Tis truly a tragedy."

"What?" Both Hightower father and daughter demanded.

"It's true." Both Targaryen father and daughter replied.

"But you told me that you'll consider marrying Aegon! Or at least Ormund!" Lord Otto glared at me. "I've let you have your way with rule, and backed you up on every decision you made, because of that!"

"I considered the matter." I told him truthfully. "I considered it foolish."

"My daughter speaks truly." Viserys agreed, even as his father-in-law turned a marvellous shade of purple. "Ormund is unworthy of her hand. Laenor Velaryon is both a dragonrider and has a far wealthier father."

"And I have no intention of marrying my brother." I said, lacing my voice with genuine disgust. "I may agree with the Doctrine of Exceptionalism, but too much inbreeding is bad for the health."

I personally believed that the inbreeding was the cause of many of the Targaryen frailties. Aenys' sickliness. Maegor's sterility. Rhaena's mental issues. The many frailties of Queen Alysanne's children. Down the lineage until Aerys the Mad King's famous madness. Which was why I intended on stamping it out.

"It is my opinion that we should marry out of the family. Both to foster alliances and bring in new blood." I spoke. "If we must keep the blood pure to ride dragons, then marriages between cousins will suffice."

I had no issue with marrying cousins. Both Singapore and Westeros allowed such marriages, and in both my families, such marriages had occured. Viserys was wed to his cousin Aemma, and back in my past life, my second cousins Aaron and Elaine married each other. Heck, Laenor and Laena were my second cousins.

"Well said, daughter, well said." Viserys agreed.

"House Hightower will not stand for this." Lord Otto growled. "Or—"

"Or what?" I pointedly asked. "You'll threaten war? I wish you the best of luck then. My allies are legion. Literally. The First, Second and Third Legion are loyal to me."

I begun counting them on my fingers.

"Beyond-the-Wall and the North supports me. As does the Vale and Iron Islands. The Riverlands and Westerlands as well. Laenor Velaryon will give me the Crownlands and the Stormlands. And Dorne may hate me, but I'm the oldest child, and their laws dictate that I inherit over all my siblings. They'll side with me."

I was the one that founded the Legions of Westeros. Their generals were handpicked by me and the men and women in the ranks supported me. While only the First was fully functional, with the Second missing its Sapper Corps and the Third still only half-built, that was still over ten thousand professional soldiers.

None of the Free Folk would forget whom sheltered them over winter. And the Northmen were honourable. They promised fealty to me, and they would give it. Lady Jeyne Arryn was one of my most ardent partisans, and my aid in ending the Vale Mountain Clan threat had allowed her to cement her position as Lady Paramount. Lord Jonas Blacktyde was my man, body and soul.

Despite what you'd think, Lord Kermit Tully was actually one of my major supporters. He was very appreciative of the canals, and so were his bannermen. Lord Lannister was my ally, for ending the Ironborn threat, and I'd already made more deals with him and the Westerlands that would allow Lannister power to rise. Lord Corlys Velaryon was another ardent partisan of mine. And Lord Boremund Baratheon would back me if I wed Laenor. They were first cousins once removed after all.

Dorne was a bit more nuanced. Half hated me for forcing them to kneel. The other half were salivating over the profits I'd promised them.

"What do you have, Lord Otto?" I asked. "The Reach? Lord Tyrell, your very own overload, is one of my allies. He'll back me over you."

That was mostly true. I had many friends in the Reach. Lord Matthos Tyrell was very grateful for me ending the Ironborn threat, and constructing the Mander Canal. As well as bargaining many favourable trade deals between the Reach and the rest of the Seven Kingdoms. That being said, it was still a toss-up as to whom he'd back when push came to shove.

"All Seven Kingdoms and more stand at my side. And I have not only the largest dragons, but the largest quantity of dragons. Your threats are futile. You have less and nothing." I finished, staring down at Lord Otto, atop a chair to give me the required height. Viserys was looking at me with a really odd look. I don't think my father realised just how many allies I had made in my thirteen years on Westeros.

King Jaehaerys had told me that this was the most likely method I'd win the Dance of Dragons. By winning it before it even begun. I'd tacked so many achievements onto my name, made so many allies and made common cause between even the bitterest of enemies, that everyone would laugh at the notion of crowning Aegon in my stead. Okay, maybe not everyone, but enough that I'd win the civil war and win it easily.

"So I'm not going to tell you to back down. I am going to order you to back down." I stepped down and walked over to Alicent, giving her a peck on the cheek. "I do not wish strife within our family, but I will defend my rights to the Iron Throne.

"So please don't make me do something I'll deeply regret." I lied as pleadingly as I could.

"My daughter is right." Viserys spoke up, and was that a spine I heard in his voice? I reached for my sorcery and subtly influenced him, stroking his anger and dulling his restraint. "Goodfather, do not presume to overstep. Rhaenyra will be King, and nothing will ever change that. I've tolerated a lot because you're my father-in-law, but no more."

Viserys strode right up to Otto and tugged the golden hand pin off his doublet.

"You are no longer the Hand of the King." The king growled. "Pack your things up and leave for Oldtown immediately. Do not return to King's Landing for the rest of your life."

"Husband! I must protest this deci—" Alicent began, but was silenced by Viserys. And OMG that was an impressive death glare.

"Do not question me, wife! I have made up my mind. Keep your silence or you'll be going with him as well." Oh wow Viserys really was mad. I was feeding the flames, but even without my intervention they were blazing.

"I'm... I'm sorry husband." Alicent retreated, clearly seeing the battle as lost. She'd try again in a few days when he was in a better mood.

"May I at least know who is to be my replacement?" Otto asked, defeated. "I need to brief them on the details of running the realm."

Viserys looked like he was going to shout again, but I placed a placating hand on his shoulder, ceasing my spell in the process.

"Father, he is correct. It is the least we can do." I allowed. "Might I suggest Lord Corlys? Ser Vaemond can take over as Master of Ships, allowing a smooth transition of power."

"No, I have a better idea." Viserys said, far calmer now.

He turned around and put the pin in my hand.

"Rhaenyra Targaryen. I name you Hand of the King."

I spent quite a bit of time gaping like a goldfish. Long enough that Otto was forced out of the room in anger and disgrace. Long enough that Alicent was also thrown out after her father. Long enough that my father was able to sit himself comfortably down on a chair and pour himself a goblet of wine.

"What?!" I finally got out. "Why me? I'm barely even a teenager!"

"You've been ruling well since you were eight." Viserys pointed out. "You're gifted in it."

Yeah, because I was a reincarnation. In truth, I was twenty-eight years older than my actual age. And I knew the future, allowing me to plan appropriately.

"You've got a knack for making people, even bitter enemies, make common cause and agree." He continued.

Mostly because I threatened any naysayers with Vhagar. People were a lot more inclined to listen after a demonstration of her power.

"You're a proven battle commander."

I was ex-military. Just because I sat a desk job didn't mean I didn't learn tactics and strategy in boot camp and sergeant training. And I'd earned a black iron warfare link in the Citadel. But even so, I was hopeless on the ground. I only won because dragons were OP.

"And you're overwhelmingly popular with everyone in the Seven Kingdoms." Viserys finished. "There is no person worthier of being named Hand, than Prince Rhaenyra Targaryen."

I took a deep breath and stepped forwards, picking up a goblet of my own before filling it to the brim with the wine. I threw it all back, allowing the sweet and sour red vintage go down my throat. The empty goblet slammed down onto the table, and I turned to look my father in the eyes.

"Very well then. I'll begin immediately."