After mother
"A girl, I heard," Aenys says enthusiastically over breakfast.
Alyssa nods; she had not been able to go back to sleep that night. She stayed with Rhaena until the midwives informed her that it had been a healthy birth and that she was recovering well.
"She has incredible lungs. I think the entire city already knows of her birth," Aenys continues. "She could share a wet nurse with Vaella. They're close in age; I'm sure they'll become great friends."
"Rhaena wants to nurse her herself." Alyssa does not even try to argue with her. Rhaena had just given birth and was clearly still blinded by the grandeur of the moment. Perhaps after some rest, she would realise the madness of what she intended.
"You nursed Rhaena too," Aenys recalls nostalgically. "Does she know that? It's sweet that she wants to do the same."
"I haven’t mentioned it to her, it was her own decision."
"It’s her first child," Aenys says understandingly. "She’ll change her mind once the second one is born. It would be good for her to have two boys now: the eldest will be king and will marry Alysanne, and the younger could wed Vaella."
"You haven’t even met the child, and you’re already thinking about marrying her off," Alyssa chides him, though not truly offended.
"You’re right, my love. I must meet my granddaughter."
Aenys hastens through his breakfast and, alongside Alyssa, goes to meet Alysanne. The baby had remained in Rhaena’s chambers at her own request.
"How are you feeling?" Aenys approaches Rhaena first, who is resting in bed. "I heard it was a quick and easy birth."
"That’s what the midwives say, but I don’t remember it that way," Rhaena replies, her voice hoarse. "It felt like divine punishment. I imagine this is what it must feel like to be burned alive."
"What an imagination you have, dear" Aenys chuckles, squeezing her hand lightly.
"I don’t think I want to have any more children after this," Rhaena closes her eyes for a moment. Alyssa worries she won’t open them again, but she does, directing a tired glance at her father.
"Of course you will! You must give birth to a king," Aenys smiles, seemingly not taking Rhaena’s words seriously. "Now, let’s see this strong-lunged girl you’ve brought into the world."
One of the maids takes the baby from the cradle and hands her to Aenys. He walks around the room with her, gazing at her with the same adoration he had for all his children. Alyssa takes Aenys’s place, sitting at the edge of the bed and taking Rhaena’s hand, brushing her fingers over her face.
"You don’t have a fever," Alyssa whispers in relief.
"I’m fine. I took a bath earlier. Aly bathed with me, she fell asleep as soon as she sank into the warm water," Rhaena murmurs, her voice growing softer as she speaks, her exhaustion evident.
Alyssa strokes her hair. She does not want to judge Rhaena’s choices,she had only just become a mother. Experience had taught Alyssa that Rhaena disliked following orders, so she would let her find her own way and would only offer advice if asked.
"She’s a big girl,she looks healthy," Aenys comments, rocking Alysanne on the other side of the room. "What is her name?"
"Alysanne," Alyssa answers for Rhaena.
"Alysanne?" Aenys repeats, not entirely convinced. "Why not a Valyrian name? Perhaps Elaena or Daenys," he suggests.
"No! It’s Alysanne. I named her after mother," Rhaena responds, looking irritated.
"After me?" Alyssa is surprised. Considering the disdain Rhaena had shown her in recent moons, she had not expected her to honour her by naming her daughter after her.
"I was named after grandmother Rhaenys, it seemed only fair to name my daughter after you. If she had been a boy, I would have named him Vaenys, after father."
"Vaenys, umm?" Aenys seems touched. "You can save the name for your next son—King Vaenys, first of his name, and his queen, Alysanne."
Aenys is so overjoyed by the birth of his first granddaughter that he orders the city’s bells to be rung, officially announcing the birth of a new princess.
"It is still early," warns Septon Murmison. "People might make malicious speculations about the child."
"Anyone who dares will see their head on a spike," Aenys responds boldly, as if he truly believed himself capable of carrying out such a threat.
The king’s excitement does not stop at merely announcing the birth—no, Aenys decides to organise a tournament in Alysanne’s honour, along with a grand feast. So caught up in his own happiness, he chooses to ignore what is happening in his realm.
"Lady Ceryse is not in her chambers," one of the guards whispers. Alyssa presses her lips together, not yet allowing herself to panic. "It seems she left early this morning to pray at the sept with her nephews."
"Have her nephews returned?"
The tournament was approaching, and both of Ceryse’s nephews had announced their intention to participate. They should have returned by now, and Ceryse would not miss it, she adored those boys.
"One of them has."
"Very well, leave it be. If they have not returned before the tournament, send the guards to search for them," Alyssa orders. The guard nods before departing.
Alysanne, nearing her first moon of life, attracts great interest at court. People gather around Rhaena, some more discreetly than others, to observe the child, as if expecting to find a monster in her cradle. Alyssa would swear there is a hint of disbelief when they realise the girl is nothing unusual, she is just a Targaryen.
"I don’t understand why they’re congratulating me," Aegon whispers to his mother. "Rhaena was the one who had Aly, I did nothing."
"You are part of her family. I’ve received congratulations too," Alyssa replies, feeling uneasy. No one had told Aegon he had to pretend the child was his. Alyssa only asked that he treat her with the same love and respect he showed his younger siblings.
The tournament arrives, and neither of Ceryse’s nephews participates. Ceryse does not attend either, despite having a place of honour alongside the royal family. Alyssa sends a guard to search for her. Fear is beginning to creep in.
Alyssa had witnessed many tournaments throughout her life and could confidently say this was the most mediocre she had ever seen. The tournament concludes just as the guard returns.
"My queen, I fear Lady Ceryse is nowhere to be found," he whispers.
"Have you searched properly?" Alyssa demands, raising her voice slightly.
"Several members of House Hightower are missing too" the guard continues.
No—no! How had they lost sight of her?
"What is happening?" Aenys approaches them, flanked by two members of the small council.
"Lady Ceryse is gone, my king," the guard replies, noticing Alyssa’s inability to speak.
"Close the city," Aenys commands.
Ceryse’s disappearance, which had gone unnoticed until then, becomes the talk of the court, with everyone forming their own theories about what had happened. Alyssa feels the weight of inquisitive eyes upon them, upon their children, upon their granddaughter.
Ceryse had made her desire to return to Oldtown abundantly clear. Alyssa does not doubt she is on her way there now, probably with nothing kind to say about House Targaryen.
*
Soon, the tension is palpable. Chaos erupts in the streets, with people uniting to tear down the already delayed construction of the Red Keep. A preacher appears out of nowhere, condemning House Targaryen and its incest for all the kingdom's misfortunes. Next comes a letter from Oldtown.
Aenys imposes a curfew, which initially proves effective. The city is locked down, and no ships are allowed to enter or leave. However, the peace is short-lived, and soon the people have fresh grievances: hunger, excessive surveillance in the streets, and unjust punishments.
"My king, for your safety and that of your family, I believe it would be best if you left the capital," says Septon Murmison, the Hand of the King, expressing his concerns at the onset of the crisis.
"And what sort of king would I be if I abandoned everything?" Aenys retorts, offended. "Would that not be giving them exactly what they want?"
Murmison is murdered two days later, and Aenys' resolve begins to waver.
"I will stay, but I believe the right thing to do is to send you and the children away. I will write to my aunt so that she may receive you kindly at Dragonstone." Alyssa does not resist; she considers it a good idea. Her children must be safe.
But that very night, chaos erupts. It starts as a brawl in the city, something catches fire, and the City Watch moves to restore order. The situation escalates rapidly, and suddenly, a great mob stands before the mansion where the king and his family reside while the Red Keep remains unfinished.
"We must leave here at once," Aenys urges her, horrified by the uproar outside.
Rhaena’s sworn shield, Ser Gwayne, escorts her along with Alysanne, with Aegon following closely behind.
"Viserys? Jaehaerys? Vaella?" Alyssa questions the guards present, but none seem able to provide an answer.
"Get them out of here," Aenys orders, referring to Rhaena, Alysanne, and Aegon, while he and two guards follow Alyssa in search of their younger children.
"Father!" They find Viserys halfway. The nursemaid, Tassie, is holding his hand while carrying Jaehaerys in her arms.
"I was going to find Princess Vaella," she informs them, bowing.
"Take them away," Alyssa commands. Tassie nods, and three guards rush to escort them.
Alyssa quickens her pace towards Vaella’s room. A guard is already there.
"My queen, I was just on my way to find you," the guard says, leaning over Vaella’s cradle.
" I am here now," Alyssa responds tensely, taking a few steps towards her daughter, but the guard is faster. He reaches into the cradle and grabs Vaella by the head, eliciting a shrill cry from the baby as she writhes under his grip and begins to wail sharply. "What are you doing? Let her go!" Alyssa shrieks, rushing towards the guard to rescue her baby from his grasp.
"At your command, my queen," he smiles before hurling the child with all his might against the wall. Her skull shatters, her head reduced to an unconscious mass of ochre colour.
Alyssa screams again, feeling her strength leave her as she gazes upon her dead daughter. Her shattered skull clings to the wall, her tiny body decapitated. The clothes she wore were black with small red and silver embroidery of House Targaryen’s sigil, and her blood blends into the fabric. Alyssa can see her tiny clenched fist. Vaella. Her Vaella.
"Why did you do that?" She tries to approach the guard with her arm raised to strike him, but he dodges and grabs her wrist, twisting her around. Alyssa does not stop crying; her little girl had been murdered, denied the chance to even see the world. "Monster!" she screams, struggling to free herself. "You are a monster! You will be punished for this! I will ensure you suffer the longest and most painful death imaginable!"
"Am I the monster? What about your family? Thinking yourselves above natural law, birthing abominations and raising dragons. For what? To give us weak kings?"
Five more guards enter the room, dragging Aenys with them. His face is battered, and he barely seems capable of standing.
"We will finish what should never have begun," one of the guards declares. Two of them seize Aenys by the arms.
The guard restraining Alyssa forces her to kneel.
"Release your king! You do not know what you are doing, you fools!" Aenys tries to struggle, but he lacks the strength to resist.
The false guards laugh and mock him. One delivers a vicious kick to his stomach, and Aenys falls silent, struggling to recover from the blow. Another guard steps forward and drives a dagger into Aenys' neck. Blood spills from the king’s mouth, and only then do they let him go.
Alyssa tries to avert her gaze, but the guard grips her head and forces her to watch.
Aenys clutches his throat, struggling desperately to breathe. The guard twists the dagger back and forth, deepening the wound. Blood gushes in torrents from his body. His lips move as if trying to form words, his gaze sweeping over everyone present before finally settling on Alyssa. Then, he collapses onto his knees. Aenys is dead. The king had been murdered.
Alyssa screams once more, tears streaming uncontrollably down her face. Vaella and Aenys had left her on the same day; they had been torn from her sight. Her daughter, her husband.
"What shall we do with her? The queen is nothing without the king."
"Let’s see how a royal cunt feels," one of the guards sneers. Someone shoves her to the ground. Alyssa does not even resist; she is already dead.
"My queen!" Three guards appear at the doorway. Alyssa recognises one: Ser Raymont, a Baratheon, son of Lord Orys.
A swordfight erupts between the false guards and those led by Ser Raymont. It is Raymont himself who lifts Alyssa from the ground and pulls her from the chamber.
"Flee now; we will deal with them," he urges, giving her a slight push down the corridor. But Alyssa does not move. "Your children await you. We will get you out of here."
She has more children, Alyssa suddenly remembers. The realm had lost a king, but her children had lost a father. She could not allow them to lose their mother as well, not today.
"Make them pay for this," Alyssa requests before she starts to walk.
She moves slowly at first, still feeling weak from everything she has witnessed. But then, she begins to run. She must survive. She must save her children.