Part Two - News from Westeros (4)
Lyonel read through the very impressive letter his daughter had snuck into his surcoat, Lyman kept shuffling the papers around while waiting for his friend to be done with the letter.
“Well?” The Master of Coins finally asked when Lyonel put down the letter, frowning deeply.
“Whomever the Princess has in her payroll as a spy, they truly earned their coins. They managed to find out when and where the next fighting ring would be held and the sponsors of the cursed fights. And Lyman,” the Master of Laws looked worriedly at him, “there are a number of concerning names in here.” He passed the letter to the man, who blanched while reading them.
“They all have ties to Hightowers! Why, I recognized this one,” he points at one of the merchants listed, “He is suspected to have ties with Meereen’s slave trade.” Both of them looked troubled by the revelation.
Lyman tapped at one of the papers, "And this query about the North and the change of succession, I didn't realized it had reached to Stepstones." It was scandalous when the news broke over the Crown intervening in Winterfell's succession by naming Bernard Stark as the new Warden over his nephew, Cregan Stark."
"If you read further, the letter mentioned how Stark had sent the poor child across the Narrow Seas during the stormy season in a murderous ploy naming him as Rhaenyra's ward. Thankfully the princess found the ship during a night flight and have hidden the boy with one of her loyal retainers."
Lyman rubbed his face tiredly. "Between this and the fighting ring, we have enough to pin it on Ser Otto and have him removed from the Hand position for good."
“We must treat this properly so Ser Otto doesn’t turn this in a way to remove us from the council instead.” Lyonel said before calling out for one of his secretaries.
Vaegon was visiting Grey Ghost, who had taken over one of the main gardens as his resting place. Reading one of the books he pilfered from the libraries (he had tasked Joffrey Arryn to figure out a way to smuggle as many books as he can out of Red Keep, a challenge he took with much gusto) when he heard Grey rumble softly.
Looking up from his book, he saw a young child with Valyrian looks stared at him in interest.
“Who are you, child?”
“Helaena.” She whispered shyly as she finally reached him and trailed her finger against Grey’s white and silver scales.
Ah yes, isn’t one of Viserys’s spawn a young girl named Helaena?
“Your Winter Prince soars high in the dusk sky, his beloved sand waiting on the ground for him to return.” She sang softly.
He froze. With his brilliant mind he had quickly parsed out what the little princess said; the Winter Prince and the dusk sky could only be referring to Olyvar and his dragon, Dusk, and the sand could be only be referring to that thrice damned blacksmith sniffing around his pseudo-son.
Vaegon stared speculatively at the little girl. Years in Stepstones had cured his skepticism when it comes to magical matters and it is possible the girl child in front of him could be a dragon dreamer.
How intriguing. He mused. He must investigate more of this.
And well, one cannot simply have too many grandchildren to spoil after all.
“Would you like to meet my dragon?” He said gently to the little girl.
Alicent screamed at the nurse who lost Helaena, slapping her across her face, her long nails raked across the nurse’s pretty face. “You are dismissed! And if you don’t leave this place by sundown, I will have you whipped!” The queen turned to Ser Criston Cole, ignoring the young girl’s loud sobs as guards dragged her away.
“Have you found my daughter?” She asked, her fingers digging into the palm of her hands, bleeding.
“We have searched most of the places in the castle, Your Grace,” the kingsguard tried to placate her, “we confirmed she has not left the castle so we will find her soon.”
“Your Grace!” One of her Hightower cousins and the lady in waiting, Bethany Hightower, ran into the room. “We found the princess! She is in the courtyard with Prince Vaegon and his dragon!!”
“What?!!”
Alicent watched in horror as her sweet Helaena was sitting by the abomination, patting its jaw gently, listening to her granduncle’s lecture on dragon legends with childish fascination. “Ser Criston.” She whispered with a strangled voice, paralyzed by fear. “My daughter.”
Unbeknownst to her, Aegon and Aemond were having their daily walks with their own retinue of servants and had seen the same thing. But unlike Alicent, the two Targaryen-Hightower princes, growing up listening about the majestic beasts and their right as future dragon riders from both their distant father and very overbearing grandsire, broke free from their servants and toddled fast toward the reclining beast.
Oh.
This is a nightmare. Alicent thought, her sight dimming in horror as her precious princes reached the dragon and started to poke at it. I’m going to lose all my children in one swoop and it’s the damned Targaryens fault.
Criston bravely entered the garden, his sword unsheathed, but Grey Ghost, already clocked the nasty knight, reared his head up and unfurled his beautiful wings to cover his human and the sweet children from this stupid human who dares to approach in his splendid presence. (Grey wondered how long would his human stay at this horrid place; he longs for the fresh sea breeze and his adoring human willing to give him bathes every time he visits them where the grainy land meets the sea.)
His loud growl sent Criston retreating back quickly into the group.
Alicent was gearing herself for a very hysterical display of fury when Layla Strong of all people (sent by Vaegon to fetch some sweetmeats for his little granddaughter) walked past them and approached the dragon who was still in his protective stance. To everyone’s surprise (as half the court and servants of the castle, including Lord Lyonel, who were clutching his chest in fear for his beloved daughter, gathered to watch from various areas) the girl merely patted the dragon who immediately pulled back to lie down, letting the girl approach the human he was protecting.
Vaegon, impressively, didn’t even break from his lecture as the children gathered around him, listening as they petted the dragon in adoring delight.
“I want him gone, Viserys!” Alicent screamed at her royal husband, who looked quite confused as it was the first time to see his gentle wife being absolutely unhinged in front of him. “Our children were so close to that untamed beast!! They could have been killed!!” She burst into loud tears.
“Alicent.” Viserys tried to placate his very emotional wife. “Vaegon would never harm the children. And it is their right to know more about their Valyrian heritage.” He sighed as he patted her luscious red hair. “I’ll talk to him, sweetling.”
Viserys was supervising the stonemasons adding a new replica to his Valyria model when his personal manservant announced his uncle, followed by one of his retainers.
“Uncle! Just in time!” Viserys said jovially. “Come see. I just added some buildings that were said to belong to House Belaerys, including their dragon pit.”
Vaegon looked at the impressive looking model dismissively, unable to believe his nephew willing to waste his time on his frivolous hobby than to administer the realm. I was a fool to suggest the Grand Council, he thought bitterly, Rhaenys would have made a better ruler than this fool.
"Oh, uncle. Alicent had asked me to make sure the children doesn't spent time with your dragon unchaperoned. And frankly, I do understand her concerns, Grey Ghost was a wild dragon, he only have a rider for a scant few years; we are unsure if he is truly tamed."
Vaegon rolled his eyes, fancy being afraid of his silly dragon. "It is their legacy. And don't think I don't know about the petrified dragon eggs, Viserys, you simply cannot force the eggs to match with your heirs." He then dropped the subject, “I want you to legitimize Daemon’s daughters.” He said abruptly, passing Viserys a thick sheaf of parchments.
“I- His bastards?” He was baffled by the sudden subject change. “Whatever for? He already has an heir in the Vale. I don’t need to legitimize his ill-beget dragonseeds.”
Vaegon pushed aside the anger of his adorable granddaughters being called with a heinous slur. “Alysse and Baela are his heirs as much as young Aelyx.”
“Who?”
“Daemon’s twin daughters he named after your parents.”
Viserys was so confused. “He named his bastards after our parents?”
“Daughters.” Vaegon gritted his teeth in frustration. "He named his beautiful twin daughters after your parents."
“But their mother is a whore. I can’t legitimize them, the Nobles would be mad.”
The nobles or Ser fucking Otto? Vaegon thought uncharitably. “Their mother, Lady Mysaria, is a member of Rhaenyra’s charity council and a fine gentlewoman. They will not inherit anything from House Targaryen, at the very least you could give them our name.”
Viserys frowned, he didn’t like the idea of Daemon having more heirs, what if he would make a play for the throne like what Otto warned him.
Luckily Vaegon had one more ace in his pocket. “Rhaenyra likes them. She enjoys having her cousins with her. And you know what they said, a Targaryen alone in the world is a terrible thing and we have lost enough family members as it is.”
Viserys pouted. “Fine. But they inherit nothing from House Targaryen of Kingslanding, not even a dowry, nor can they claim a dragon in Dragonstone after being legitimized.” He signed, not noticing Joffrey’s eye rolled behind Vaegon; why would the girls go claim a dragon when they already have their cradle-hatched? And between the dowry Rhaenyra settled for the girls and Daemon’s seat on the Veiled Isle, they would need nothing from her miserly uncle.
“Good. Now, it brings us to our second matter of this meeting. I need you to approve an adoption for me.”
“An adoption? For you?” Viserys asked, bewildered. “If you need an heir, you can simply take one of my children as your heir, Uncle.”
Vaegon swallowed a sneer, as if he would let Otto dig his claws into Stepstones using the poor children. Think of Olyvar, think of Olyvar. “The young boy is a dragonseed related to our family and a balm to my old age. (He mentally retched at the lie calling himself an old man) I have trained him and I would like to see him continue my legacy when I’m gone.”
“Children are a boon, aren’t they?” Viserys’s smile was so soppy, Vaegon had to resist the urge to slap the stupid smile away. “Oh, very well. I will get Lord Lyonel to write up a letter of legitimacy for your boy.”
“No need, I already made one.” Vaegon’s smile was positively draconic as Viserys, once again, signed the three copies of the letter of patent without reading it; one to be added in the ancestry book down in Oldtown, one to be stored in the family vault in Dragonstone and one for himself.
“There uncle, I even added a caveat in the end so the boy would be given an allowance to use the title Prince to his name. Now, what was the name of my new cousin?” Viserys looked at him expectantly.
“Olyvar, Prince Olyvar of House Targaryen.” Vaegon smile was triumphant.
(Somewhere in Scarwood, bent over his latest project of making a new saddle for Seasmoke as part of Prunella’s wedding gift to Laenor, Olyvar suddenly looked up, a cold shiver danced down his spine as if something momentous had just happened to him.
Bad omen that, he thought, shuddering before turning back to the saddle, mentally making a note to visit Rhaenyra and check if someone is plotting mischief in his name.)
Now that’s settled, Vaegon was eager to be off. “Right, I will be heading home to Stepstones tonight.”
“So soon?” Viserys asked in confusion. “But you can’t leave without me hosting a farewell feast for you and your retainers. Please stay till the end of the week.”
“Another feast?” Vaegon was disgusted at the blatant wastage of coin and food for the king had hosted 3 separate feasts and he had been here for 5 days! He’s better off using that budget for repairing the city’s sewage system.
“Of course.” Viserys said jovially, “What better way but to celebrate your visit, uncle.”
Vaegon calculates the risk of needing to be polite to Viserys (not that he gives a damn) and heading home to his comfortable tower in Pryr with the huge windows and the distinct claw marks on its wall.
“No. We will head home by lunch time. I have too much research put on hold as it is.” Plus he still needs to hunt down Olyvar. Ignoring Viserys’s pleas, Vaegon left for the Master of Law’s office, Joffrey Arryn bouncing happily behind him.
Layla smiled at her father as she helped grinded his ink pot as he wrote a long letter for the princess. Thanks to the significant information given by Lady Mysaria, the fighting ring was closed for good and its accomplices were silently arrested without alerting the Hand and currently waiting in the Black Cells. The poor children (the ones they could save) meanwhile were transported to an unmarked ship at the docks, which left this morning for Stepstones.
“Can’t you stay for awhile, dear child?” Lyonel asked as he sanded the last of the letters. “It’s been a long time since I have one of my children other than Larys by my side. I will personally charter a ship to take you back to Stepstones so you don’t have to worry about transport.”
Layla hugged her father, giggling. “I missed everyone in Stepstones and someone needs to keep an eye on Joffy and Lord Vaegon.” Plus, She thought humorously, there’s a brother and a princess to tease and bets to cash in. She giggled again after remembering the chaotic letter she received from Morna earlier that morning.
Lord Vaegon and Joffy then entered the solar, the former looking like his dragon after a delicious meal while the latter showed off the legitimization letters to the Strongs, telling them how the King signed it without even reading it.
“He didn’t read them?” She goggled especially at Ollie’s copy where it clearly stated that he is the son of Gael ‘Winter Princess’ Targaryen and an unnamed minstrel.
“You need to keep a close eye on him, Strong, or he might sign the kingdom away to the Hightowers.”Vaegon sneered.
“Lord Lyman and I will do our best, My Prince.” Lyonel said seriously. “Do contact us if Princess Rhaenyra needs any help.”
A loud knock interrupted their conversation as a page entered the room. “My Prince, Lord Strong, the King requested you to attend to him in the Small Council room immediately.”
Viserys was furious.
To find out his daughter had acted scandalously, unbefitting as a member of the Royal Family!
Thank the Gods for Otto, he thought warmly before turning angry again, or the entire family would be the kingdom’s laughing stock!
Everyone in the room looked at each other in confusion other than the Lord Hand, who had a smug, officious look on his face and Prince Vaegon, who looked so done with it all.
“Why are we here, Viserys?” Vaegon looked out the window, trying to gauge Grey Ghost’s proximity; if the winds were good, they would arrive home just in time for dinner.
“Why didn’t you tell me?!” The King spat out in anger. “I thought she would be mature with all the responsibilities I had given her as the Lady Paramount of Stepstones Isle. And yet is this how she repays me?! By being a whore?!”
Joffy and Layla blanched as Vaegon turned red in fury. “How dare you Viserys?!! Rhaenyra is not a whore!”
“And yet I have received reports of her running around with a Dornish bastard blacksmith and a pirate of all people! She is her aunt, Princess Saera reborn again!”
Since when did Edmondo court Rhaenyra? Vaegon thought bewilderedly, didn’t the brat currently lusting over his grandson? He turned to the teens behind him and looked at them speculatively but judging from their confused reaction, that statement was indeed false.
“I have no idea where you heard of this but these appalling accusations are untrue! Rhaenyra is a great ruler who works hard everyday since she is ten to improve the livinghood of her people and takes care of her reputation meticulously. Why, her own people called her the Maiden Reborn.” Vaegon argued. “I don’t know what foolish fool told you such untruths and when I get my hands on them I will feed them to my dragon!”
Viserys was taken aback to hear that; he had thought the isles were administered by her council of regents, an idea that Otto had believed as well. “I’m afraid it is not a rumor as the delegates from my son’s retinue to Stepstones had seen the princess behaving… unladylike during their visit.” The Hand said delicately.
To his surprise, the Prince merely scoffed. “If unladylike you mean that Rhaenyra have been visiting the fields to check on the crops or spending time in fishing villages, talking to fishermen and pearl divers, or visiting the mines to make sure the safety standards are strictly followed for the miners to be safe while mining it. Or perhaps are you talking about her negotiating trade agreements with foreign merchants in making sure Stepstones have the best options when it comes to economic trading and export/import with Essos? Or are you possibly talking about the incident where your son tried to accost Princess Rhaenyra when she was going for a night flight and my dragon stopped him from hurting her?!” Vaegon’s strident speech ended with a furious shout. “You have overstepped yourself, Ser Otto Hightower!”
A loud roar shook the castle.
“This rumor doesn't just slander Rhaenyra’s good name but the name of two others; Nakhuda Sayiddah fa Toren is not a pirate but a privateer under the protection of Great Maroq’s Great Khalifa Maruun and one of Rhaenyra’s dearest friends. Edmondo Sand is a talented blacksmith working with the dragon keepers taking care of the dragons in Stepstones and most definitely not courting Rhaenyra.”
Viserys rubbed his face tiredly. “Perhaps it is time for the girl to get married. I will ask the Small Council to compile a list of names for her to pick her future husband from.”
“And I’m telling you that you cannot force her to get married, it is her and her choice alone!”
“I am king, I can revoke that contract!” Viserys was angry now, can’t his uncle see that he was concerned for his estranged daughter?! “Or should I just marry her off to Gwayne Hightower as planned earlier and bring her back here?!”
“You can’t! She’s already courting someone.” Layla suddenly blurted out then squeaked as everyone turned to her in shock, Joffy immediately stepped forward to shield her from their scrutiny.
“What are you talking about? Speak up girl!” Layla flinched as Lord Hand approached her as if he was going to shake the answer out of her.
“Ser Otto!” Lyonel said furiously, trying to stop him.
“Girl, answer Your King, who is Rhaenyra courting?” Viserys demanded.
“I-I,” She looked around fearfully before blurting out, “She is currently courting my brother, Ser Harwin Strong.”
The chaos was deafening.
In Dragon Den, Harwin and Rhaenyra was cuddling as they chaperoned the group of children playing with the dragonets, suddenly shivered in trepidation.