It took hours for the princess to finally fall asleep that night, tossing and turning until the hour of the wolf. Eventually, from sheer exhaustion, she drifted off.
Frantic and disoriented, Visaera squealed as she was hauled from bed by Ser Jaunton, who apologized profusely, even as he dragged her from her rooms to the Queen's chambers. Then he was dismissed, leaving her standing in the center of Alicent's rooms in only her nightdress. Aemond was sitting on the sofa in front of the hearth, watching the flames dance in the darkness.
"Visaera, there you are," Alicent greeted, a sniffle following. The skin around her eyes was raw and Visaera could tell she had been crying. The Queen's gaze lingered pointedly on the angry red marks Aemond had left on her skin, but she said nothing about them. "The King has passed in the night." Visaera went to bed with the knowledge she would never see him again, now all she could do was nod, feeling strangely detached from her own feelings.
Behind his mother, Aemond sat, still as a statue, but for his hands. His fingers rubbed back and forth across each other, clearly desperate to keep themselves busy with something.
"Aemond?" He glanced at her and then back at the fire, avoiding eye contact and making her stomach drop. Alicent was watching them both with a knowing look in her eye. Visaera glanced back and forth between him and his mother, wondering what had been said between them in her absence. Something just wasn't right...
"Visaera, my love, we're going to crown Aegon, as Viserys commanded, and when the coronation is over, we will begin planning the wedding." The sweet tone of the Queen's voice made her so sick that it took her a moment to register what Alicent had said.
"I-what?" Visaera breathed, as the words finally sank in. "No, no you can't do that. My mother has been named the heir to the throne." Alicent shook her head and reached for Visaera, as though she was speaking to a small child.
"No, no. You were there, dear. Viserys said Aegon—" Repeatedly shaking her head, Visaera backed away from the Queen.
"He didn't know what he was saying! He called me Rhaenyra! My Queen, what you speak of is treason. Please, just let me write to my mother—"
"Did you not hear a word I just said, child? The King's dying wish was to see his son crowned." Alicent insisted, stepping toward her.
"No, no! That's your wish!" Visaera cried out, taking another step away from the Queen.
"That is enough, Visaera," Otto commanded, stepping into Alicent's chambers. "If you wish to send a raven, by all means, you can send your mother assurances of your support, and ask for hers in return."
"I will not," Visaera replied, glaring at him. "You're no Hand of the Hing; merely the hand that overreaches, and my mother will have your fucking head." Otto's mouth tightened into a thin line and he nodded at Ser Criston.
"Take her to her room, bar the door. Hopefully, her grandmother will—"
"My grandmother?" Visaera perked at the mention of Rhaenys and she found a sliver of hope. She hadn't even known that Rhaenys was still in King's Landing, let alone in the Red Keep. "My grandmother's here?" Already, Cole was gripping her around the arms, squeezing them with bruising force.
"What are you doing?" she cried, struggling against him, "Get your fucking hands off me!" She turned to look at the prince, who continued staring at the fire. "You're just going to let them do this?" she pleaded, waiting for him to turn and look at her. "Aemond!" Cole dragged her from the room, making her arms ache, "Aemond!" She screamed his name until Cole clapped his hand roughly over her mouth, squishing her face until she tried to bite him.
As he marched her through the corridor, Visaera could feel the shards of her heart crumble to dust as she replayed the way Aemond had simply let Cole drag her away.
"Is everything alright, princess?" Lord Caswell asked, giving Ser Criston pause. Visaera shook her head, tears sprinting in her eyes. "The King is dead," Cole stiffened, knowing full well she shouldn't be telling him anything. "Lord Caswell, Aegon will be crowned in a few hours, and you must bend the knee and swear fealty to him." She threw her arms around the man, forcing out a sob, praying it sounded believable. Lord Caswell very well may have been her only hope. "You must send a raven to my mother, tell her what The Greens have done." she breathed in his ear, praying Cole could not hear her.
When she released him, Criston shoved her forward, forcing her to keep moving.
"That was a smart decision, princess. You very well may have just saved that man's life."
"That's what a good Queen does," she retorted venomously, "puts aside her own desires for the good of her people, unlike—" The knight yanked her arm and she hissed in pain.
"I will not let you speak ill of her grace in my presence," he ground out.
"She won't be Queen for long," she sneered, boiling with rage, "Aegon will be crowned and Alicent will be forgotten. I hope I live long enough to see my mother execute you."
"You really are a vicious little cunt, aren't you?" he sneered in her ear, "just like your mother... Perhaps the King will have your head when you refused to bend the knee." Visaera laughed maniacally at his optimism.
"Have you forgotten that Aegon has loved me since we were children, Ser Criston? Perhaps I will ask him to give me yours—"
He spun her around and struck her across the face, the back of his hand splitting her lip open with the force of the blow. A look of sick surprise spread over his face as he realized what he had done.
"You will regret that, Ser Criston," she promised as he pushed on the small of her back, forcing her to continue walking. When they reached her quarters, he shoved her inside and she heard the door lock behind her.
Immediately, she made for the passageway, desperately hoping she could find Rhaenys. The moment she shoved the door open, Aemond blocked her path.
"Aemond, get the fuck out of my way," she panted, glaring. He wasn't listening; he reached out and stroked the line of blood on her bottom lip, his eye glittering with anger. "Don't fucking touch me," she hissed, wrenching away from him.
"Visaera—"
"After everything, after the night we had, the apology... You're going to support them usurping my mother's throne?"
"Mother has asked for your support," he offered as if she hadn't said anything, "and once Aegon is king, you will be my wife." A giggle of disbelief filled the room and then turned into hysteric laughter.
"Are you fucking mad? You think I would betray my entire family so that we could marry?"
"I swore to protect you; this is how I do that. They're my family, Visaera. I can keep you safe from them." She stared at him in disbelief. "What would you have me do instead, abandon them and flee with you to Dragonstone?" he asked.
"If you loved me, that's what you would do!" she cried, "That's what—" His eye narrowed as she choked on her words, but the damage had been done.
"That's what Aegon would do?" he snarled, gripping her around the neck and shoving her back into the bedroom.
"I've had about enough of you comparing us, Visaera," he growled, forcing her back until her knees hit the bed. "You're mine..."
He leaned in to kiss her and then she punched him across the face, her hand singing with pain. Despite the force she put into it, Aemond barely budged.
"I'm so fucking sick of everyone telling me I belong to them!" she snarled, "I'm the future Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, no matter who your mother decided to crown, and I belong to no one!"
"Hmm," Aemond stared at her, an unreadable expression on his face. Without another word, he turned and left the room, sealing the passageway behind him. For hours, Visaera kicked and shoved against the wall, until her limbs ached and her shoulders were bruised.
As she sank to the ground, she wondered where Ser Jaunton was; where Alarya was, and prayed that they were alright.
Visaera hadn't realized she had been dozing off until Helaena gently prodded her awake. She bolted if from the floor and toward the door, which was immediately blocked by Ser Arryk.
"I'm sorry, Visaera. Truly I am, but I have to help you get ready for the coronation." Helaena said gently.
"Where's Alarya?" Visaera demanded.
"I don't know," her aunt answered sadly. "Come on, sweet niece." Reaching for her hand, Helaena pulled her across the room, her hand warm and comforting. Depositing her at the end of the bed, her aunt hummed as she rifled through her wardrobe, selecting an emerald green dress made of silk.
"I don't want to wear that," Visaera growled. The last thing she wanted to do was be seen wearing Hightower colors.
"I know, but you will, Vis," Helaena insisted. "We have to show unity today."
"How are you so calm? Are you truly alright with this?" she asked hysterically.
"I don't really have a say in the matter, do I? What can I do but support my family?"
"You could... You could come with me to Dragonstone. My mother would never hurt you." Visaera offered hopefully.
"That's kind of you, but I cannot abandon my family, Vis. They're going to need me soon," Helaena informed her somberly. Visaera stared at her, mouth agape, trying to figure out if Helaena knew something she did not.
"Come on, then!" her aunt exclaimed, brightening. "We're going to be late!"
"Where's Aegon?" Visaera asked as Helaena laced her dress, pulling the strings as tight as they could go.
"He'll be on his way to the Dragonpit already," Helaena answered. "You're still too thin..." she commented idly.
"The Dragonpit?! Why are they crowning him in the Dragonpit?"
"For the city to witness," her aunt explained patiently, as though she were speaking to a child.
"Aegon doesn't even want this..." she muttered, shaking her head. With tender fingers, Helaena plaited a wide section of Visaera's hair and pinned it around the crown of her head, slipping Aemond's comb into the braid. The princess stared at herself in the mirror. Despite Helaena doing a wonderful job with her dress and hair, everything about her reflection felt wrong.
"You look beautiful, both of you," Aemond greeted from the doorway, looking pale and tired. Visaera guessed that no one had slept since it was discovered the King was dead. "We need to go; the wheelhouse is waiting." Crossing her hands over her chest disobediently, Visaera merely glared at him in the mirror.
She may have no choice but to go along with their plan, but she wouldn't make it easy on them. He closed the distance between them in a second, breathing heavily through his nose, clearly annoyed.
"If you wanted me to be rough with you, you could have just asked," he growled, gripping her around the neck and tugging her out of the room. She struggled with him the entire way down to the carriage, regretting that she hadn't trained more with her brothers.
"I'm not going," she screamed, battling against him and he tried to push her up into the wheelhouse.
"By the gods, Vis, do not make me hurt you." he hissed in her ear.
"Would you?" she breathed, stilling in horror as she looked up into his eye, "Would you hurt someone you swore to protect?" She watched as his jaw tensed, then he wrapped his hands around her waist, picked her up, and carried her into the wheelhouse.
Placing her on the seat, Aemond sat next to her, gripping her hand. Even when she tried to tear it away, he held fast. Visaera settled on glaring at him, all the way through the cobblestone streets and up to the Dragonpit. By the time they rolled to a stop, the prince was smirking at her as if her anger only served to amuse him.
"Are you going to make me carry you inside as well?" Aemond asked her. Raising an eyebrow at him, she leaned back and crossed her arms over her chest. The prince rolled his eyes and smirked. "Alright, more fun for me..."
Looping an arm around her torso, he scooped her up and carried her from the wheelhouse.
"Where have you all been?" Ser Criston demanded as they hurried through the door, Visaera struggling against the prince's grip. Seeing his face brought back the memory of him striking her and she sneered at him.
Aemond kept his arm around her waist, tugging her along, up the stairs and onto the raised platform at the center of the pit.
"Behave yourself, love," he whispered in her ear, squeezing her tightly. Then he kissed her temple and added, "I promise, no matter what, I will always keep you safe..."
Despite the fact that she was surrounded by people who wanted her dead, in the Dragonpit where they were usurping her mother's crown, his words calmed the inferno raging inside her and her glare softened.
City folk were being shoved forward by the guards of the city watch, crowded like livestock into the Dragonpit. Some faces held only curiosity but many were fearful of what they were doing there.
The city watch pushed and shoved people in the crowd, creating an aisle through the Dragonpit, unworried about who they hurt in the process. The sight made Visaera's stomach churn. Alicent and Otto wanted the people to witness Aegon's crowning, but they didn't give a damn about the people themselves.
Otto stepped forward and the crowd quieted.
"We gather here today, to mourn and to celebrate. It is with a heavy heart that I announce that Viserys the Peaceful, our kind and benevolent King, is dead. May the gods give him rest. We will never see his like again. But it is also a joyous day, for we gather to witness the rise of a new King. With his last breath, King Viserys announced that his first-born son, Aegon Targaryen, should be crowned as his successor. We are here to honor that wish and celebrate our new King!"
It started with whispers, then a few random shouts of support, then, before she knew it, the crowd was cheering. With one speech, Otto had seen the Realm's Delight all but forgotten, and his grandson celebrated as their new ruler. Visaera fought against the bile that rose in her throat and found her clutching Aemond's hand, her nails digging crescents in his skin.
The trumpets sounded through the Dragonpit, as swords were drawn on both sides of the path, creating a long, ceremonial aisle for Aegon to walk through. Aegon...
"It is your great good fortune and privilege to be here to witness this. A new day for our city. A new day for our realm. A new King to lead us!"
Then, Aegon was there, walking slowly up the aisle, swords dropping as he passed them. Visaera thought she might faint; her limbs trembled as she watched him make his way toward the platform at the center of the pit.
Despite the dark shadows beneath his eyes and the heavy bruising on his cheek; despite the messy hair and the solemn look on his face, Visaera couldn't deny he was a beautiful sight.
Aegon had been dressed in black, a stark contrast to his silver hair and alabaster skin. Visaera held her breath until she grew dizzy, watching Aegon make his way toward the dais, his eyes locked on the ground in front of him. Gritting her teeth, Visaera fought the urge to cry, knowing neither of them wanted this.
As she watched him climb the steps, Visaera desperately wished that they had flown across the sea together. If only she had known then, what she knew now. She had agreed to a betrothal to save her brothers from Aemond's hate, and in turn, assured the Hightower's betrayal.
A sob ripped itself from her lips and she shoved her fist against her mouth, biting into her skin and silencing herself. At the sound of her cry, Aegon finally looked her way, a mix of sorrow and bitterness in his gaze. Visaera had to avert her own eyes to keep from sobbing.
Unable to watch any longer, she looked at Aemond while the septon anointed Aegon with the sacred oils.
"May the Warrior give him courage. May the Smith lend strength to his sword and shield. May the Father defend him in his need. May the Crone lift her shining lamp and light his way to wisdom."
"The crown of the Conqueror, passed down through generations," Cole announced. Unable to fight her own curiosity, she watched as he placed the Valyrian steel circlet was placed on Aegon's head, the rubies shining in the light. "Let the Seven bear witness, Aegon Targaryen is the true heir to the Iron Throne." Visaera still hadn't released Aemond's hand and her fingers were beginning to go numb. When the Queen bowed to her son, Aegon looked at the rest of his family. Helaena followed suit, and even Aemond gave his brother a nod of deference. Visaera merely stared at him, hoping her eyes conveyed just how much his betrayal hurt her. Yes, she had hurt him too, but how could the two things compare? Aemond squeezed her hand and, eventually, she averted her eyes.
"All hail His Grace, Aegon, Second of his Name, King of the Andals and the Rhoynar and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm."
When the crowd burst into jeers and applause, Visaera gagged, her stomach threatening to leap from her throat. Aegon looked about in bewilderment, a light suddenly shining in his eyes.
Behind the walls of the Red Keep, Visaera had been the only one to love Aegon unconditionally. Now he was standing in the Dragonpit, surrounded by cheers and support, and he seemed to be basking in it.
"Aemond," Visaera breathed, her entire body was convulsing now, the celebration of her mother's crown being stolen was becoming too much for her to bear. "I'm going to vomit." And she did. A moment later, she was leaning over, her back turned to the crowd, spewing stomach bile onto the floor of the platform.
And then, the floor beneath the crowd burst open and all hell broke loose. The platform shook and Visaera fell over, nearly tumbling into her puddle of vomit. Stone and dust filled the room and Visaera could hear the terrified screams echoing through the pit. Aemond instinctively reached for Helaena and the princess realized that now was her chance, her only chance...
She still didn't know what was happening as she sprinted across the platform and slid off the edge, pushing her way through the panicked crowd. During the chaos, she managed to tear a cloak from someone's shoulders and wrap it around her, effectively concealing her silver hair.
Then she heard it, the bone-chilling roar Meleys let out, and she turned to watch the dragon climb its way out of the floor. Fuck...
Her grandmother was there, so close, so far... If only Visaera had waited a moment, she could have mounted Meleys and flown to freedom. Instead, she was now stuck in a terrified crowd, being pushed and jostled about. With no choice but to follow through with her escape, Visaera continued to weave and shove her way through the hordes of people. As Meleys took flight, Visaera scrambled around trampled bodies and clawed over bits of rubble.
With the dragon no longer a threat, the Greens turned their attention elsewhere and Visaera could hear them calling for her.
"Where is she?" The Queen screeched as the Kingsguard began to search through the crowd. The princess could hear Aemond shouting her name in a mix of panic and fury.
She knew she had moments before the guards caught up with her, still, she paused just inside the doors of the Dragonpit and glanced back. All the way across the cavernous space, her eyes met a pair of lavender ones, and she could see the wounded look on Aegon's face.
I'll stay for you... Her words echoed in her head and she bit her lip to keep a painful sob from escaping.
Turning her back on him, she accepted the heartbreaking realization that if she ever looked into those eyes again, it would be as enemies. She was a Black and he was Green and nothing they could do would change that reality, not anymore...
The moment she stepped out of the Dragonpit, Visaera was gripping the cloak and sprinting through the streets, praying that the God's would favor her, just once, just long enough for her to escape. She ran until her lungs felt like they were going to implode and her thighs ached. Her slippers were torn to shreds by the time she reached the harbor, gasping for air as sweat trickled down the edges of her face.
Realizing she would have to secure passage on a ship, Visaera paused. Despite her precarious situation, her fingers hesitated over the comb in her hair, suddenly loathed to part with it.
"Princess?"
"Ser Erryk..." She breathed his name with relief, knowing he was a good man and wouldn't dare harm her. The same could not be said for his twin. "What are you doing here?" Glancing over her shoulder, to be sure she wasn't followed, the knight gripped her hand and tugged her toward the docks.
"Come with me, princess, I will see you home. I will see you to Queen Rhaenyra." Hand in hand, the pair ran, boarding the first ship set to leave; Ser Erryk offering a handsome price for a detour to Dragonstone...