Chapter 29: An Uncle’s Wish. 123 AC

In the middle of the night, king Viserys sat beside his replica of Old Valyria. He was resting, as he was quite tired from what he did on the day. The fire was crackling in the corner, the wind was blowing softly at the windows. He was alone in that room, as Queen Alicent did not sleep on the same bed with him. In this room, the king felt peace, but he also felt alone.

Suddenly, a soft knock came from the door to his room, the king turned to it, and spoke. "Who's there?"

The voice of a young man answered. "You call for me, your grace?"

"Ah, yes…" the king hummed. "Come in."

The door then opened, revealing Maegor, still in his bronze armor. The boy walked towards the king, and bowed slightly to him.

"Sit." said the king, pointing at the chair behind Maegor. The Lord of Runestone did as the king asked, and he sat upon the chair, just right beside the replica of Old Valyria.

"Now that the marriage business has been done…" the king said. "You are now officially my son-in-law."

"Indeed your grace." Maegor hummed. "But I must ask, why are you calling for me in this late hour?"

"I had hoped we could speak alone," said Viserys. "With no prying ears or spying eyes."

"Oh…" Maegor murmured. "What is it that you need from me, your grace?"

"First, let's talk about your family." the king continued with a smile. "Am I expecting a grandson or granddaughter anytime soon?"

Maegor just chuckled. "I'm afraid not, your grace. Helaena is still too young in my eyes to carry a child."

The king raised his brow. "She has bled as far as I know."

"No, I mean, her age." Maegor said. "I've read somewhere that a young girl like her would be 5 times more likely to die in childbirth rather than… say, a seventeen to twenty years old woman."

The king's face dropped as he heard it. "Indeed… perhaps it's a good idea to postpone the pregnancy. I would not recommend you to feel the loss of a wife over childbirth, the late queen's death still haunts me to this day…"

"My… condolences… your grace…"

"No matter, it's all in the past." said the king longingly. "It seems our conversation has turned dark already, well, unto the next matter I suppose. Nephew, what do you feel about your cousin and step-mother Rhaenyra?"

Maegor acted confused. "I have… no thoughts on her, your grace."

"Now don't lie to me, Maegor." the king chuckled, seemingly not taking any offense. "I was there when you shouted at the princess, so tell, what do you think of her? If I ask you to protect her when I die, would you fulfill my wish?"

Maegor's expression turned flat at that moment. "Your grace, I ask that I would be allowed to speak to you as a nephew to his uncle and as a son-in-law to his father-in-law, not as a lord to his king."

"Well aren't we doing it now?" the king jokes, but Maegor didn't answer, so Viserys took it seriously. "Very well, speak your mind."

"Uncle." Maegor nodded. "I would not mind if Rhaenyra is to be queen of the seven kingdoms, but what she has done during these years is… not queen-worthy."

The king frowned. "What are you implying, nephew?"

"You know what I'm talking about, uncle." Maegor said calmly, not caring if his tongue would be cut out or not, well, technically he didn't say anything. "She has risked the stability of the kingdom and the dynasty because of her carelessness and… impulses…"

"I could have your tongue for that, boy." the king threatened.

"Then do it, uncle." Maegor continued, still calm. "I am only talking about what was in front of us, even if you act like you don't know, I know that you know the truth"

The king was silent, he was staring at the replica of Old Valyria for a couple of seconds, before continuing. "I had a dream many moons ago. I saw a frail and weak young man, sitting on the iron throne, wearing the conqueror's crown. His skin was of dragonscale, his right hand was made out of battered bronze, and his left hand was covered in bloodied snow."

Maegor frowned at his words. "A prophetic dream, uncle?"

"Perhaps." the king sighed. "When I was crowned king, I always hoped that I could dream more, to see more into the future to lead my realm towards prosperous times… I was obsessed with prophecies and sights…"

"Prophecies are dangerous, uncle." Maegor pointed out. "It is so cryptic that it could mean anything."

"I know, but this dream… this… prophecy…" the king murmured. "It is so clear to me, yet so obscure at the same time, tis' making me mad just thinking about it."

"So what do you want of me, uncle?" asked Maegor. "To translate that dream? Because I am not a prophecy reader, I am the lord of Runestone."

"Do you not see it?" asked the king. "The hand nephew, the hand. Tis' made of battered bronze."

"So you're telling me that I am the hand?" Maegor raised his brow. "Then what of the other hand? The bloodied snow? And who was the one sitting on the Iron throne?"

"I do not know, it is why I've become so frustrated with it." the king murmured. "Tell me, nephew, is it wrong for me to choose Rhaenyra as my heir? I have loved Aemma, and always felt guilty when she died bearing my child… Rhaenyra is my only proof of my love for her…. Is it wrong for me to choose her over Aegon? I had this dream, and became reminded again that perhaps I made the wrong choice… the gods have already said that a man will sit upon the iron throne, not a woman…"

"Uncle… I do not have the answer for that." Maegor murmured. "On one side, I respect your decision on appointing Rhaenyra as your heir, even though it would destabilize the dynasty… but on the other hand, Aegon the Elder is also supposed to be the rightful heir, as because Rhaenyra with her actions have caused destabilization over the dynasty, and he is your firstborn son."

"And who would you prefer?" asked the king. "Aegon the Elder, or Rhaenyra?"

"I prefer none of them. As both of them are corrupt in their hearts and minds, and not fit to be king or queen."

The king then frowned. "Then who would you prefer? Your father? You?"

"I prefer the legacy of our dynasty over petty squabbles over whoever sits on the throne." Maegor answered.

The king just stared at him. "The dream showed signs of you being a central part of this… squabbles…"

"Dreams didn't make us kings, uncle. Dragons did." Maegor murmured. "If a civil war ever breaks out, Dragons will kill each other on whose side will dominate the skies of Westeros, and eventually, they will die out, leaving the house of the dragon, dragonless…"

The king slumped back to his chair, and sighed deeply. "Is there no way for this… conflict to end?"

"I want to say that there is… but it would be too drastic for a king to do and still not be called a tyrant." Maegor murmured.

"And that is?" the king asked.

"Exile your sons." Maegor answered calmly, making the king widen his eyes. "Aegon, Aemond, Daeron… and assassinate your own queen."

"You say treasonous things, nephew." the king frowned.

"Like I said, uncle. It's a drastic measure." Maegor answered. "Ultimately, the problem lies with the Princess and the Queen. I thought of many solutions in these years, and I can only come up with a few."

"Tell me, then." the king said. "I am in need of counsel in this matter."

"You can either disinherit Rhaenyra and choose Aegon as your successor, so the tradition will not be broken, and the lords wouldn't be too displeased about it. Or like what I said previously, the drastic measure… or… do nothing."

The king could only frown at his words. "Do nothing? And let a civil war break out?"

"At this point, it's already too late uncle. Even if the Princess and the queen reconcile, their sons still bear their previous hatred." Maegor murmured. "If you insist on naming Princess Rhaenyra your heir, the house of the dragon will be divided. Even if you ask all the lords of the seven kingdoms to swear their allegiances to her, it would not matter. Upon your death, the queen will try to ignore your wishes, and crown her son as king."

"Do you think so lowly of your own mother-in-law?" asked Viserys. "She had taken care of me all these years since Aemma died."

"I only speak about what could happen, uncle." Maegor answered. "And if you care about her so much, then appoint Aegon as your heir, not Princess Rhaenyra."

The king didn't answer. "If conflict breaks out, do you swear to protect my heir, nephew?"

Maegor shook his head. "As I said before, uncle. I do not think that Rhaenyra will be a worthy queen."

"Then you would support Aegon?"

"No, the only thing that could bring Aegon to the Iron Throne is if he usurps it." Maegor answered. "And I will not support a usurper."

"We're talking in circles here." the king chuckled. "So you would stay neutral? Or you would want yourself to be king?"

"I do not wish to bear such a heavy burden." Maegor answered. "But if conflict ever breaks out, the only thing that I would do is to stabilize the kingdom as quickly as possible, as efficiently as I could, and save as many dragons as I could possibly do."

"So, if I name you as my heir now, you would reject it?" the king jokes.

"If you name me as your heir, more conflicts would arise." answered Maegor.

The king sighed, seemingly agreeing with him. "Sometimes… I wish Aemma and I had a son like you… and all these conflicts would not arise."

"Maybe in another lifetime, uncle." Maegor murmured, leaning against the chair. "Maybe in another lifetime…"

"Then promise me this, nephew." the king said. "Whatever happens, you must be a shield to our family. The house of the dragon must remain strong, so our future descendants won't suffer because of our descendants' mistakes."

Maegor only nodded at the king's words as he listened to the crackling fire in the corner of the room.

"Perhaps... I could speak to them in my dying breath, to gather sympathy from them... and tell them to end this conflict once and for all." Viserys continued softly. "One... last... supper..."

And so, the nephew and uncle sat beside the replica of Old Valyria calmly, enjoying the quiet atmosphere, seemingly trying to forget all their problems that night.