Pre-Chapter A/N: Welcome to October, guys! Let's smash whatever goals we've set ourselves this year. More chapters on my patreon(https://www.patreon.com/c/Oghenevwogaga)— same username as here and link in bio. Experimenting with two chapters a week, we'll see how long I can keep this up for.
I watched as Viserys stepped up to the dais. He had decided to give Daemon a Valyrian funeral, despite objections from who seemed to be the High Septon of King's Landing. I said seemed to be because there was only one true High Septon, the one out of Oldtown. Anyone pretending to anything else was a clown with delusions of grandeur. Still, it was somewhat impressive that he managed to stand his ground on the matter. Even Jaehaerys had received a fusion funeral. He had been anointed in the oils as required by the Faith, and the words had been said. The only distinction in his case was that his body had been burned by dragons at the end.
Daemon's was different. For one, he was removed from the shroud at the beginning, and instead of being anointed by holy oils, his body was stripped naked so his fire could ascend to the heavens as pure as possible. And then there was the tradition of the eldest family member saying a few words. In this case, Viserys.
"My brother was many things. He was passionate. He was prideful. He was focused, and he was ambitious. Sometimes, he could be more of these things than was proper, but that was par for the course. Daemon loved deeper and truer than any other I have had the pleasure of meeting. And-and while that burned him a few times—or burned me for that matter, I would not change it for anything. Go before me, my brother, my helper, my protector. Let the fires guide your way beneath Balerion's wing, brother. R-rest easy. You did not deserve to go like this. You deserved a long life with children of your own, and I regret the part I played in denying you that. You might be gone, Daemon, but I swear to you by fire and blood that as long as I live, you shall not be forgotten," he said, before turning around and walking towards the body.
The knife he unsheathed glinted in the sunlight before he ran it down his palm, drawing blood that he allowed to pour onto Daemon's head, his chest, even onto his lips. Then he turned to us and stepped aside. After him was Rhaenyra, and to her credit, the Princess only flinched a tiny bit when she ran the blade down her palm. Alicent had spurned the funeral in a move that had both impressed and worried me. It impressed me in that I hadn't foreseen her having so much audacity, and it worried me in that the only way she would have so much of it would be if Viserys was even more spineless than expected when it came to family.
With no wife or other children here, the next was Mother. She walked forward, and to my shock, Viserys handed her the same Valyrian steel blade he and Rhaenyra had used. The blade that in another world would put an end to the Long Night for good. She accepted it, giving him a smile he returned before running it down her palm.
She bled freely over Daemon's body, allowing the blood to drip on his lips and then his chest. "May the fires guide you home, Cousin," she said, and then gestured us forward.
Laena first, accepting the blade from Mother, cut a thin line down her palm and bled over the dead man. My turn came, and I refused the blade, drawing my own hunting knife from my waist. I loved my family very much, but there was no chance I was bleeding on that thing. I closed my eyes and then pressed my palm against the blade. I squeezed, allowing the blade to form the cut before I allowed my blood to pool on Daemon's chest.
After that, I stepped back, and the rest of us did as well, with Viserys being the last as he lingered over his brother's body, just silently staring for close to ten minutes. No one interrupted him—not even when silent tears began streaming down his face.
He stepped back last, and the dragons moved to take our place. This funeral was taking place in the Dragonpit just like Jaehaerys', but Viserys had been very specific in his desire for a small ceremony. Part of me wondered if it was to avoid being decried by the Faith. He was nominally a believer in the Seven. We all were. And what we had just done was what many in the Faith would call a queer ritual. If it was, then it was smart. Smart, but far from bold, and from what I knew about Viserys, that did not surprise me one bit.
"Dracarys," Viserys said first, even as he lacked a dragon of his own. To my surprise though, Caraxes listened and breathed out a storm of flames on the stone tablet that held Daemon's body. And then the rest of our dragons joined in. It was a rainbow of colors as five dragons breathed their goodbyes onto the corpse of one of the last true Dragonlords. I could give him that much. No one had held tightly to the traditions and beliefs of old Valyria like Daemon did.
We remained in silence, only interrupted by the sounds of the fire. Caraxes might have been the first to begin, but he made sure he was last as well. He kept going even long after it was clear that it was not healthy for him to do so, like he was in an unspoken competition with the other dragons. Syrax had tapped out a while ago, and then Meleys stopped as well. Vhagar turned away, clearly bored, and began to march back to her lair. Igneel kept going because just like me, he was not one to back down from a challenge.
Only when I began to see the scales around Caraxes' neck begin to glow from the heat he was unleashing did I tell Igneel to stop. There was no need to allow the dragon to kill or injure itself just to prove a point. Caraxes stopped a second after Igneel did, making a sound that I would have considered a cough if it had come from anyone other than a dragon.
"Rhaenys," Viserys said, eyes still pinned on the melted remains of the tablet Daemon's body had laid on.
"Cousin?" Mother asked, stepping up to him.
"You said the one who killed him was Ironborn?" he asked, and I felt myself go still. Oh, fuck no. That was literally the opposite of a productive outcome from this visit.
"A bastard spurned by his people already. His only recourse had been to be a pirate's steward."
"And you chose to take him on as your own after defeating his captain?"
"Yes. A mistake, I now realize. I had seen a boy not much older than my own son and saw the potential for redemption then. It was foolish of me, Cousin," she said. And I realized the genius of her strategy. If she started by blaming herself and then taking responsibility for it, there was no chance Viserys would keep pushing. Not with the kind of person he was.
And I was proven right as he placed a hand on her shoulder and squeezed.
"It was not your fault. I realize now that piracy is a scourge around the known world. Those people are not deserving of life. Ask me whatever you might desire for your campaign, and I will grant it," he said, eyes narrowed.
Now, if only that offer had come much earlier.
"We have finished the campaign, Cousin. The Stepstones are yours," she said.
"Truly?"
"I told you this earlier," she said, somewhat in a deadpan.
"I had other things on my mind then," he said, twisting to look at the tablet again, and his face nearly crumpled.
"So what revenge can I get? What can I do with this rage that twists in my heart, Cousin?"
"When Corlys died, I felt the same. The man who had killed him had fallen in the fighting. The one who directed the attack was in hiding and could not be found. I wallowed in that rage for a while until I realized that it was not what Corlys would want. Daemon would not want you focused on rage and rage alone. He would have it fuel you. I grieved Corlys by completing his conquest of the Stepstones. That was what he had died seeking. I cannot tell you how to grieve Daemon, for he was yours more than anything else, but I can tell you that deep down, you already know what you must do," she said. Viserys turned to the tablet then.
"Leave me," he said, and it was clear he was talking to all of us. I was the first one out of there, not wanting to be in that atmosphere anymore. Viserys' grief was an almost physical thing that weighed down on you when you were in his presence.
XXX-
King's Landing was nothing like what I had expected while at the same time being everything I had expected. Was that a strange thing to say? Maybe it was. Well, to say it better, King's Landing the city was far from what I had expected from the capital city of what I had seen as a backwater kingdom. That is to say, it was better than expected. The Red Keep, however, was exactly what I had expected. Which was to say, mind-numbingly boring and filled with the most inane pieces of drivel being peddled as allegedly groundbreaking gossip.
So it was no surprise that I spent my days exploring the city as well. What was a surprise was the person who had chosen to come along with me today, though. The encounter at the gates had been interesting enough.
"Lord Velaryon. Heading out into the city again?" the Princess had asked, marching over with her sworn shield hovering behind her like a shadow. I gave him a look, but nothing more than that. As far as I was concerned, Criston Cole was one of the sickest sickos to ever wear that cloak. He hadn't just dishonored it by sleeping with his charge, but then he had the audacity to betray said charge when she refused to make the obviously stupid choice of running away with a knight from the Dornish Marches and abandoning a life as the heir to the Seven Kingdoms.
"Yes, I am, Princess. It feels like with every time I visit, there is more and more to see," I said, and both my words and the smile on my face were even true. King's Landing might have smelled like the wrong end of a donkey, but no one could accuse it of lacking character. Of course, that character had seen Ser Ben have to threaten a few ambitious idiots with loss of limb once they noticed how sparse our entourage was. But even that experience had been relatively enjoyable.
"Then it must fall upon me to show you all the best places in the city, lest you leave thinking that you have seen all the best she had to offer," she said, walking closer to me. Was she… flirting? Probably not. If I had my canon timelines correct, wasn't this the time period where she was undecided between crushing on Cole or crushing on Daemon? Pretty sure I was much too young for her tastes at present.
"It would be a pleasure, Princess." Nah, someone was probably just putting her up to it. Well, either that or she was bored. I remembered my time on Driftmark. Being a lordling had been quite droll, all things considered. I couldn't imagine that it was any better being a princess, especially considering how much more closely she was probably being watched in the Red Keep than I had been in High Tide.
I got to spend my time picking fights with Vhagar, training Igneel, and generally being a terrorist around the castle. All things that I doubted the vipers that nested in this snake pit would let anyone get away with.
And so we had ridden out of the castle. Unfortunately, being accompanied by the Princess meant my anonymity was basically a non-starter. Escorted by only Ser Ben, I was basically just a rich noble. Notable to some extent, but this was King's Landing. Cole's white coat and the red and black livery of the dozen guards that made up Rhaenyra's entourage stuck out like sore thumbs.
And if I expected Rhaenyra to lead me to anywhere truly interesting, then I found myself sorely disappointed. She led me to all the same stores that had bored me on my first day of exploring. I could see why they drew her attention, though. The tapestries and rugs were marvelous for this time period, but Corlys had accumulated so much wealth during his voyages that we pretty much had one of these every few corners in High Tide. And the exotic stores just failed to deliver. What did I care for ivory tusks or ornate silver jewelry? Still, I tried my best to feign interest as Rhaenyra led me from store to store.
She even greeted a few of the merchants by name. Impressive, because I genuinely would have taken her for the type to forget that the people who sold her stuff were human too. And when we arrived at a jewelry store with a set of jade earrings that even I had to admit were impressive, I allowed Rhaenyra to turn her attention elsewhere before subtly purchasing them. And Ben had said my habit of carrying ungodly amounts of gold on my person would do nothing but get me killed. Well, here it was, getting me a bright smile from the most eligible maiden in the realm.
"Will you place them on me, my lord?" she asked, already turning around before I had even gotten the chance to begin answering. But then again, what was I going to say? No? Who the fuck do you take me for?
I leaned over her shoulders, fiddling with the current earrings she had on for a second before getting them off. Then I replaced them with the new ones, putting the old ones in the box the new ones had come in. The old were a gold ensemble, not valueless by any means but clearly lacking when compared with the new pair. When I was finished, she turned around, barely giving me the chance to take a step back.
"How do they look, my lord?"
"On you, Princess? Even coal would look like the most precious gem. These earrings? Breathtaking," I said, enjoying the way her skin warmed at my words. She seemed to shiver at the compliment for some reason before straightening up and curtsying.
"Thank you, my lord. For the gift, and for your words."
"Not to worry, Princess. For the gift, it would have been a crime to see those and not place them on the most beautiful pair of ears in the known world. And for the words, I wish I were better with them so as to drive home the sight I have been gifted with," I said. At this point, even I knew I was laying it on a bit thick. But this was medieval courtship. The whole point was laying it on thick. She giggled, proving my point.
"I did not know you were a poet, Lord Velaryon."
"I did not either. Perhaps you bring it out in me," I said, and there she was, giggling again.
"There is a mummer's troupe that sometimes tells the story of the Conquest. Not too far away from here," she said, and I nodded, accepting the implied request.
"Then we must go see it for ourselves then. If you would lead the way, Princess?" And then I went back to my horse while she returned to her wheelhouse. I'd received the offer to ride in it with her, but very few things would make me step into one of those things. Not even the Princess of the Seven Kingdoms qualified to be on that list.
We rode two blocks down, arriving at the very edge of the merchant district of the city. Of course, it wasn't called that. King's Landing was far too complex to be divided into something as neat as districts. But they were a useful way—for me as a newcomer—to categorize and understand things for the time being.
When Rhaenyra left the wheelhouse, we moved to the edge of the growing crowd that surrounded a makeshift stage of some sort.
"Never. Never. Never. Never will I surrender to you and your dragons. Because your dragons breathe fire and fire burns wood, but stone does not melt, my Lord. And my castle is naught but good and strong stone. Come and let me crush you beneath the walls of Harrenhal," one of the actors said, playing a fairly passable rendition of who could only be Harren the Black.
"Verily I say unto you, Son of the queer faith of the Drowned God, by the strength of the Seven who are one, my dragons will burn your castle and all its towers in seven breaths," another man—this one wearing a silver wig, and styled into some passing resemblance of Valyrian beauty—said. I turned to Rhaenyra and found her eagerly devouring the show, even as I wondered just which of the idiots in the castle had paid for this display of foolishness. By the strength of the Seven who are one? I didn't know the man, but something told me Aegon Targaryen, first of his name, hadn't given many fucks about the Seven who are one.
"And so that night when the Ironborn went to sleep, the King Aegon Targaryen and his wives flew upon their dragons and turned them against the great castle of Harrenhal..." a voice from off the stage began to speak while the rest of the actors exited.
A/N: And so that is our chappy. How does this one feel? Wanted to look at King's Landing before chaos ensues. Next six chapters up on patreon(https://www.patreon.com/c/Oghenevwogaga)(same username as here and link in bio), support me there and read them early.