bloodrite

xviii.

Harrenhal's central gallery is filled to the brim with lords from all across Westeros. Men from every corner of the land. Starks, Lannisters, Hightowers, Targaryens, and every House in-between. Across from Leanna, there even stands a party from Dorne. The girl, proclaimed as princess of Dorne at her entrance, is surrounded by twenty armed knights. Each of them had been armed at their arrival, but under the code of the Great Council, all weapons had been stripped.

This is the twelfth day of discussion. Much to Leanna and Rhaenys's anger, the claim of both Rhaenys and her daughter had been discarded on the tenth day. Now, the dispute lay solely between Laenor and Viserys.

As the Head of one of the Great Houses, it would quickly fall to Leanna to place her support. Her opinion had been unspoken for some time now. She knows Daemon stands just out of view, purposefully avoiding her gaze. He's expecting the worst. Then again, so is Corlys. She has already told him how this will go. Only one of them is correct in his fears.

The Council is moving quickly. Jumping between lords, determining final allegations. It has been loud as of late, until Tymond Lannister sets his eyes on her.

"Lady Leanna, you have not placed your input as of late. Is your opinion unchanged?"

"You know with whom my support lies. However," silence falls. Internally, Leanna winces. Dreading this. "I have sworn my support to Rhaenys and Rhaenys alone. This she knows, as does her husband. In the absence of her claim, considering how many of you are too foolish to allow a woman to sit the Iron Throne, I have no choice but to alter my position. I support Viserys, of House Targaryen."

Chaos erupts. She can feel daggers from Corlys, and disappointment from Rhaenys. She does not allow any of it to bother her. She has stood fast this past fortnight, refusing to grow weary. She has heard every argument and old fool's talk without faltering.

She lifts a hand to her stomach, supporting the large swell there. In the noise of the hall, she can see the blond figure moving. Daemon is at her side in under a minute, extending a hand to the small of her back. She steps away from him automatically, keeping her gaze cold.

"You made the right choice," he tells her.

"Did I?" She asks. The question is heavy.

Does Daemon actually think Viserys will be a wise king? He would rather sit idle than work to understand the unrest in the Stepstones, or the grievances of his lords.

The right choice for the kingdom? No. But the right choice for herself. Selfish, and she didn't know what it would cost. Too much. The future was uncertain, and she could only pray it wouldn't be written in blood.

Her part here is done.

Leanna turns and pushes her way through the hall. She knows Daemon is following her. She can feel it. Yet she does not acknowledge him. Not until she has found her rooms and has closed them in.

"I'm sorry it came to that. Perhaps if Jaehaerys had chosen Rhaenys when Aemon died—" He starts. She wheels on him, hair slashing at her face with the force of her turn.

"Yes. Perhaps. But he didn't, and now we have almost had war. What happens if Viserys never has a son, Daemon? What happens if Rhaenyra is his only heir and this fight happens all over again? This council has proven one thing to these lords, and that is that being a woman is a crime punishable by the loss of a birthright."

"If he has no sons, then I am his heir."

"But you won't be, because you will not take away that child's blood rite," Leanna snaps. She steps forward, daring him to deny her. "Promise me that we will back that girl, no matter what," her finger lifts in a general direction of the hall, where Viserys and Aemma remain.

"And take away the possibility of our children becoming kings?" Leanna groans, hand rising to her brow.

"No. No, no. I do not seek a crown. I seek a peaceful life and enough resources to support my people. That is all. If you are that power hungry so as to support your brother in the off chance you might become king, perhaps we will continue staying separate."

"Don't keep threatening me with that." It's a plea. Enough so that his hand lifts to snag a piece of her hair. He curls the black ringlet around his finger, looking deep into her eyes. "You know I cannot part from you."

"Then support me. That's all I have ever asked."

"And it's all I've ever done. Even if you don't see it that way."

Leanna sighs, allowing her hand to drop to his wrist. "I have a bone to pick with you about the marks Caraxes left on my courtyard walls."

"Ah," he sighs, wincing. "I'll have them fixed." Appeased, she relaxes. Pensive now, she considers the day that has just passed. What it means, around all the convoluted conversations that had stretched for needless hours.

"Tomorrow they will make the final decision. I think we already know the outcome."

"Yes," he sighs. "Yet I must be there for Viserys, and Aemma. It would look better if we appear as a united front."

"And then Jaehaerys will swear Viserys in as heir when he returns to King's Landing. By then, I think our son will be born."

"Another son?" Daemon asks, eyebrows lifting. She shrugs, pulling back from him.

"Yes. I am carrying no different."

"I'm assuming you have a name picked out." It was their agreement, considering Baelon's promise that the first son would bear the Targaryen name and the second would be the Baratheon heir.

"Orlys," she answers. "You will ensure that Viserys cements his claim as the Baratheon heir when he is born."

"Don't get too ahead of yourself," he chides. Leanna affords him a glare before turning towards the window. His next words have her pausing. "If Viserys becomes king, I am going to counsel him towards selecting you as Hand of the King."

"My home is in Storm's End. I would not part from it."

"Even for an opportunity such as this?"

"Not even then. I have a duty to my people."

"If you would allow me to hold your seat until our son is grown—"

"Why not you? You could be Hand."

"Do I look like I could tolerate the pettiness of the Small Council?"

"And you think I could?" She scoffs, folding her arms.

"Yes, I do. Your political prowess has increased tenfold over these past years. You will not be out of place in the Small Council."

"Only if Viserys asks me himself. I will not be appointed through you."

"Of course, and I'm certain he understands that." Daemon steps backward "I'll let you rest before the Council convenes in the morning."

Before night falls the next day, the new heir has been chosen. Leanna decides there is no point in speaking with Rhaenys and Corlys before she departs for Storm's End. It was best to let their frustrations burn away before their next conversation. She feared it would take years.

In this immediate moment, she has much larger problems. Traveling this far along with child has not been easy, and the return trip would certainly be worse. Especially after thirteen long days of deliberation and discussion.

This time, Daemon returns with her. Keeping her company on the long journey from Harrenhal. They will stop at King's Landing first, to recuperate and observe Viserys's anointing ceremony. Representing the Stormlands, Leanna will swear her allegiance to him. All will be well again, until the nagging issue of his own heir comes back to bite him.

Leanna must hope that Jaehaerys remains well for a good while longer to acclimate Viserys. Otherwise, she will have a reason to be uncertain.