Part Two - A Surprise Guest
Nyra jumped when a loud sound thumped outside her balcony. She looked up to see Olyvar sneaking into her office and went straight for the chaise, slumped face down dramatically on it.
“Again?” She asked, amused. Before the reveal, it was hard for her to get Olyvar to visit her at Dragon Keep but now he would sneak into the castle to hide from his persistent new-found relatives. “Who was it this time?”
He lifted his face from the cushion to glare at her. “Daemon. He said I should know how to defend myself and chased me around with a real sword.” He slumped back, whining loudly. “It took Alysse falling into the water trough for me to escape.”
“Was it an accident or planned?” Nyra pushed aside the report she was reading, too entertained by the drama in her uncle’s life.
“Seeing that Baela was smirking and holding her sister’s ribbon, I say it was intentional on her side.” Both of them grinned, used to Baela’s wild ways.
“Has granduncle Vaegon caught you yet?”
“You think I would let him catch me?” Ollie looked at her scornfully before grinning sheepishly. “I may have bribed Grey Ghost with some sharks so he would let me go last time he tried to catch me.” He was currently avoiding Vaegon, who now was taking a strong interest in his education. This was not the first time he did so but first of such he was being terrifyingly persistent, especially with the way he set Grey Ghost to stalk him.
“Tell me again, how did you avoid our Granduncle years ago?” Rhaenyra grinned, remembering how years ago Vaegon had took a shine on him when he saw Olyvar’s initial designs for her dragon saddle and later the crutches he had engineered for Kriss, bellowing how the Dragon Keeper was wasting his genius taking care of dragons and should instead study under his tutelage.
“One of the mines collapsed in Dustspears, remember? Master Vaegon threatened to let Grey Ghost eat the supervisor responsible for the safety negligence. After that I made sure to be far, far away everytime he came looking for me till he got distracted by the new institute in Pryr.”
“Oh right, that did happen.” Rhaenyra felt like crying, remembering the paperwork she had to read and new laws to approve after that incident. “Well, no chance for that now since he is determined to cram all that knowledge in you.” Rhaenyra said sympathetically, both shuddering at Vaegon’s draconic teaching styles.
“I don’t see the point why I need to know about politics, I’m just a bastard Dragon Keeper.” He wailed.
“First, don’t call yourself that.” Rhaenyra scowled at her uncle. “We don’t care about the circumstances of your birth. And secondly…” She trailed off, not wanting to tell Olyvar the real reason why Vaegon is taking such a huge interest in him again after so long.
Yup, better not warn him or he might run off somewhere, Rhaenyra thought to herself.
“Where’s Harwin anyways?” Olyvar suddenly asked. “I wanted to thank him for that suggestion on stretches for Kriss. Did you know he has a brother with the same affliction as Kriss?”
“Yes, his name is Larys; Morna and Layla told me about him, he’s currently with Lord Strong in King’s Landing as a confessor.” Rhaenyra said absentmindedly as she signed off the report. “Harwin is standing outside, I can’t look at his face right now.”
“Hmm? I thought we liked him?” Olyvar asked her in confusion.
“Pretty sure he likes you more.” Rhaenyra sulked, finally giving up on working. She went to the lounge chair, Olyvar sitting up long enough for his niece to sit down before lying his lap on her head, the princess immediately sinking her fingers into his wild curls, playing with it gently.
Both of them had agreed to take whatever is between them slowly, not letting it affect their friendship. (Olyvar also told her in confidence that he also is taking it slow with Edmondo, seeing where that leads. Though Kriss had told the three of them that if Olyvar wasn’t going to marry his papa, he might as well marry Rhaenyra so he can tell everyone he has a princess for a stepmother.)
“He does?” Olyvar sounded quite baffled. “But he is always staring at you everytime I see both of you together? And half the time we talked, he always asked about you.”
“H-He does? Wait, when did the both of you have time to talk?” Rhaenyra looked suspiciously down at her uncle. Olyvar rolled his blue eyes at her.
“Who do you think was helping me sneak into the castle all this time?”
The princess couldn’t help but snort, amused by the idea her sworn shield is helping people sneak into her castle.
Both of them then talked about dragons when a sudden loud knock startled them.
Olyvar immediately rolled out of the chair, almost hitting Rhaenyra in the knee in his haste to hide under the table.
“Ah Rhaenyra, I was just looking for you.” Rhaella walked into the office, behind her, Harwin was carrying a huge parcel with him. “You don’t happen to know where Olyvar is? Daemon told me he ran when he looked away from that boy.”
“Um, maybe he’s flying?”
“Hmm, pity, I was hoping to talk to him. It is important to spend time with family before it's too late and with this cold of mine...” She trailed off, faked-coughing into her sleeves. Behind Rhaenyra, the table rattled and a soft wince could be heard.
“My dear, is that perhaps your uncle hiding under the table?” Rhaella asked dryly.
“Uh…”
“Do tell him to join us. I have something the two of you would like to see.” Olyvar appeared out from under the table sheepishly, his unruly curls were covered in dust. Rhaenyra mentally made a note to make sure her maids to give the place a thorough cleaning that night.
Harwin smirked as he passed him a handkerchief to clean off the dust, Olyvar blushing in embarrassment especially when Rhaella fussed over his unruly curls.
“So what did you want to show us, Grandaunt?”
Rhaella gestured at the cloth covered painting on Rhaenyra's desk. As one, the three of them pulled the cloth away to reveal a young man who looked like a more melancholic version of Olyvar Waters, his bluish-purple eyes stared sadly at them.
“Oh.” Rhaenyra said reverently, touching the painting gently with her fingertips. Beside her, Olyvar drinks in his features.
“His name was Viserys Targaryen.” Rhaella said softly. “He was my mother’s brother. When grandmother Alyssa fled with King Jaehaerys and Queen Alysanne, she left Viserys behind. He was tortured for nine days and nine nights by King Maegor and Queen Tyanna Towers for their whereabouts before finally dying, his body was left to decompose for a fortnight as a trap for Queen Alyssa but she never came.”
Both Ollie and Nyra looked at the painting sadly. “Do you know him, Grandmother Rhaella?” Olyvar asked with a hushed voice, afraid to break the melancholic mood she was in.
“I was born two years before he passed away but Uncle Maegor talks about him a lot when I was with him.” Olyvar and Rhaenyra exchanged looks at this, another clue in understanding who was really with them right now. “I think he regrets killing him toward the end, especially after he executed Tyanna. My sister disagreed, she thought he was cunt.” She laughed ruefully.
“Will you tell us more about them, grandaunt?” Olyvar asked, leading her to sit by the chairs. “I would love to know more about them.” He said wistfully, Rhaenyra nodding furiously.
Rhaella smiled ruefully. “I don’t have much but I would like to tell you about my sister, Aerea.” She launched into a story about how she and her twin sister pulled pranks in Red Keep.
At the corner of her eyes, Rhaenyra can see Harwin leaving her office, smiling at her softly before closing the door, leaving the three Targaryens spending some time together, reminiscing about family.
“Are these figures exact?” Rhaenyra asked as she read through the weather report. She was currently in an important meeting with Martyn and Gwyn, the head of Strepstone’s fishing community.
“Ye, Your Highness.”Gwyn’s weather-beaten face wrinkled in duress. “The scholars in Pryr told me tis accurate.” He tapped the report. “And my men, the canny ones, agree with em. There’s a storm brewing, several in fact.”
Rhaenyra fiddled with her rings. “We shall issue a weather advisory to everyone, no non-essential boats are to sail at this time and people in affected areas are to be moved inland. Martyn, please tell the priests in Felstrong to move to Scarwood.. Not that they would listen to us.” She rolled her eyes affectionately, used to the weird characters living in Felstrong.
Gywn bowed before leaving the room, letting the door open long enough for a very flustered looking Morna to enter the room.
“Rhaenyra, sorry for this interruption but there’s a delegation from King’s Landing currently waiting for you in the Great Hall, they are being led by…” She mumbled her last words.
Rhaenyra looked at Morna with a befuddled look, “Who did you say is waiting for me in the Great Hall?”
“Ser Gwayne Hightower.” Morna repeated with a grimace.
The princess blinked at her before her ladies exploded into action, brushing out her hair and pulling her out of her ink-stained kaftan robes and into a blue and silver dress.
“Someone better fetch my granduncle!” Rhaenyra yelped as Rowena combed the last of the knots in her hair. “And hurry!”
Rhaenyra fidgeted with her rings as she stopped outside the Great Hall, her retinue waiting behind her.
Taking a deep breath, she nodded at one of the guards manning the door.
“Presenting Her Royal Highness, Princess Rhaenyra, Lady Paramount of Stepstones and the Narrow Seas.” As she makes her way forward to her chair on the dais and sat on it, she can see from the corner of her eyes, Olyvar sneaking into the Hall, wearing better quality clothes than usual (her ladies must’ve caught him and forced him to change), watching the audience before nodding at her.
She nodded back before turning to the entourage from King’s Landing, wondering if her father finally decided to write to her after so long. Looking at the tall, older man with auburn hair and green eyes that vaguely reminded her of the Queen and Lord Hand, Rhaenyra figured this must be Ser Gwayne Hightower.
“Welcome to Stepstones Ser Hightower. Please, partake in our bread.” She signaled one of the maids forward with the customary bread, salt and mead. Watching him wash down the bread with a drink, she continued.
“Tell me, what brings you here to Stepstone Island?”
Gwayne couldn’t help but admire the beauty in front of him.
When his father summoned him to King’s Landing, he thought he had finally forgiven him after the incident that happened in Flea Bottom. How does he know the man was one of Lord Wylde’s sons? He was harassing a woman and it was his duty to stop him before the incident escalated.
He almost made a run for it when he heard what his father had in mind for him. Sadly his father had anticipated his reactions and had several guards catch him before he could even clear Red Keep.
He thought the plan was ridiculous (and suicidal) but now, looking at the Valyrian Princess, delicate and innocent in her blue and silver dress, he thought he might actually have a chance to make this work.
He reached out for her hand and the beautiful princess gave it to him, looking at him quizzically.
“On behalf of House Hightower, I’m here to present my suit for your hand in marriage, Princess Rhaenyra.” Gwayne bowed over her hand, kissing it as the entire Hall exploded into noise.