The Hidden Princess° Aemond Targaryen

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Do you walk in the valley of Kings?
Do you walk in the shadow of men
Who sold their lives to a dream?

The Queen's face softened, her mask of resolve faltering. "Otto, we cannot simply... The realm will not stand for it," she said quietly. "Rhaenyra is beloved by the people. She, her husband, their children... They are family. Our family."

Otto looked at her, his gaze steady. "I understand your reluctance, my Queen," he said. "But the alternative is civil war. Is that what you want?"

Queen Alicent shook her head. "Of course not," she replied. "But there must be another way. Can we not negotiate? Offer her some form of power that would placate her without sparking a rebellion?"

Otto sighed. "If only it were that simple, Your Grace. But your son is soon-to-be King now. Any concession to Rhaenyra would be seen as weakness."

Alicent remained silent, her heart heavy with the weight of the decision before her. She knew Otto was right - they had to secure Aegon's reign. But the cost... the cost was too high. She looked at the council, her gaze pleading.

"We must find another way," she implored them. "There has to be a solution that doesn't involve bloodshed. We are not tyrants. We are a family. And family does not turn on each other like this."

The room was silent, the council members looking at each other. The tension was palpable. They knew the Queen was right, but they also knew the reality of the situation.

Otto paused, considering the Queen's words. "Perhaps there is another way," he began slowly, "A way that could unite both sides without bloodshed." All eyes turned to him as he continued. "Between Aemond and Rhaella to be the successors should anything happen to Aegon."

There was a moment of stunned silence. Then Lyman burst out, "Are you mad, Otto? Aemond is a prince of the realm!"

"Indeed, he is," Otto replied calmly. "And Rhaella is the daughter of Rhaenyra. Their succession could bring an end to this dispute, unite the two sides."

"But the law of succession..." Alicent began, her voice hesitant.

"I am aware, my Queen," Otto interrupted. "The male heir should not be usurped unless he is mentally ill or dead. But this is not about usurping Aegon. He will remain the King. This is about ensuring peace in the realm. About preventing a potential rebellion."

"And what of Rhaenyra?" Jasper asked. "Will she accept this?"

"We can only hope," Otto replied. "But it is a chance we must take. For the sake of the realm."

Alicent was silent, her mind racing. It was a risky proposition, but it could work. And if it did, it would spare the realm from the horrors of a civil war. She looked at Otto, her decision made.

"Send a raven to Dragonstone," she ordered. "Propose the succession. Let's see if Rhaenyra is willing to put the realm before her ambitions."

At Dragonstone, Rhaenyra was in the midst of a council meeting when the raven from King's Landing arrived. She read the message, her face growing dark as she passed it to Daemon, her husband.

Daemon's brow furrowed as he read. "A more publicized union between Aemond and Rhaella? For the two children to become successors?"

Rhaenyra nodded, her grip on the armrest of her chair tightening. "It seems my dear mother and her council have come up with a 'peaceful' solution."

Daemon crumpled the message in his hand, his eyes blazing. "This is an insult. A blatant attempt to undermine your claim."

Rhaenyra rose to her feet, her eyes scanning the council members. "They dare to question my claim to the throne? After my father named me his heir?"

The room was silent, the council members exchanging worried glances. Rhaenyra's voice was calm, but they could all see the storm brewing behind her eyes.

"They think to avoid a war by offering a publicized marriage," she continued, her voice dripping with scorn. "But they have just started one."

Daemon stood, moving to stand beside Rhaenyra. "We will not accept this insult," he declared. "We will fight for your claim. We will start the Dance of the Dragons."

The hall erupted in cheers of agreement, the council members pledging their loyalty to Rhaenyra. As the echoes of their words filled the room, Rhaenyra and Daemon shared a determined look. The battle for the Iron Throne was about to begin.

Rhaenys, the Queen Who Never Was, rose from her seat, her face a hardened mask of resolve. "This insult cannot go unanswered," she declared, her voice echoing through the chamber.

She turned to Rhaenyra, her gaze steady. "I will ride to King's Landing on Meleys. I will stand before the council and denounce them for their treason."

A hush fell over the room. All eyes were on Rhaenys, their respect for her palpable. She was a seasoned warrior, a dragonrider, a woman who had faced many battles. But this... this was a battle of a different kind.

Rhaenyra met her gaze, understanding the gravity of her decision. "Are you sure, Rhaenys? This could mean war."

"I am aware," Rhaenys replied. "But we cannot stand by and let them strip you of your rights. If war is what it takes to ensure justice, then so be it."

Rhaenyra nodded, her heart heavy but her resolve unwavering. "Very well, Rhaenys. You have my blessing."

With that, Rhaenys left the chamber, her steps echoing in the silence. As the sound of her departure faded, a new sound filled the hall - the beating of dragon wings. A declaration of war was on its way to King's Landing.

Later in the evening, Rhaenyra sat in the quiet of her chambers, her mind heavy with worry. Daemon, her husband, stood by the window, looking out at the darkening sky.

"We must consider Rhaella," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Daemon turned to look at her, his expression unreadable. "What of her?" he asked.

Rhaenyra sighed, her gaze dropping to her hands. "She is still a child, Daemon. She doesn't understand the complexities of court and politics. This... this proposal, it will change her life."

Daemon shrugged, his eyes returning to the night sky. "She is a Targaryen," he said. "She will adapt. She will survive."

Rhaenyra looked up at him, her eyes filled with concern. "Is that all you care about? Survival? She is our daughter, Daemon. We should be protecting her, not throwing her into the lion's den."

Daemon turned to face her, his gaze hard. "We do not have the luxury of coddling our children, Rhaenyra. Not now. Not with the throne on the line."

Rhaenyra shook her head, her heart aching. "There is more to life than thrones and crowns, Daemon."

He didn't respond, his gaze returning to the window. Rhaenyra stared at his back, her worry for Rhaella intensifying. She knew Daemon was right - they didn't have the luxury of protecting their children. But that didn't mean she had to condone such actions. She held the hope that Rhaella would be able to handle whatever was coming her way.