The golden rays of dawn streamed into Rhaegar Targaryen's chamber, rousing him from slumber earlier than usual. His eyes, as sapphire as a summer sky, sparkled with determination as he prepared himself for the day ahead. His attire was immaculate, a doublet adorned with the three-headed dragon sigil of House Targaryen.
As he secured the last button, the door to his chamber swung open. Queen Aemma, his mother, entered, her eyes filled with curiosity and a hint of bemusement. "Rhaegar, my dear, why are you awake so early, and getting dressed by yourself? Where are your maids?" she inquired, her voice laced with intrigue.
Rhaegar, with composure befitting a prince, adjusted his attire and replied, "Mother, Grandfather has extended an invitation for me to join him for the morning meal. You know well he prefers to break his fast early. I could not waste my time waiting for them"
Aemma nodded knowingly. "Very well," she conceded, a soft smile gracing her lips. "You wouldn't want to keep him waiting."
With that, Rhaegar hastened his steps, making his way to the royal chambers. The vigilant guards announced his presence, and he entered the room, where King Jaehaerys was already seated, an air of contemplation around him.
"Good morning, Grandfather," Rhaegar greeted with a respectful bow, his demeanor earnest.
Jaehaerys acknowledged his grandson's presence with a nod, gesturing for him to take a seat. The room buzzed with activity as servants arranged an opulent medieval breakfast—fruits, bread, meats—all laid out for their enjoyment. Rhaegar took his place, and for a moment, both men admired the lavish spread before them in silence.
Once the servants had left, Jaehaerys rose from his chair, his movements measured, and approached the chamber door. He ensured it was securely closed, then turned to Ser Ryam Redwyne, the Kingsguard standing at attention. "Ensure no one disturbs us until we are finished here," he commanded solemnly.
With the room sealed, Jaehaerys returned to his seat, his gaze fixed on Rhaegar as if he were weighing the words to come.
Setting aside his utensils, Jaehaerys leaned forward and spoke in a low voice, "Rhaegar, I haven't slept well after what you revealed to me last night. My mind has been plagued with worries about the future."
With an air of seriousness, Rhaegar broke the silence, maintaining a reassuring smile. "There is no need for such apprehension, Grandfather. As of now, nothing catastrophic has occurred. We still have ample time to shape the destiny of House Targaryen."
Jaehaerys reclined in his chair, his violet eyes locked onto Rhaegar's. "Indeed, you speak the truth," he mused. "But now that I have something to strive for, perhaps I can prolong my days beyond what was predestined. And strive I shall, for the sake of our family, Rhaegar."
The Old King's eyes shone with unshed tears as he continued, "I have always been a King before anything else. Even when I should have been a Father and Husband I have prioritized being king, but not anymore, now I must work for the members of this family, for what is House Targaryen without its people?"
Their conversation shifted towards the formidable challenges that lay ahead. "Our most formidable adversary at present is House Hightower, particularly Lord Otto," Rhaegar declared with gravity. "Their ambition is to place one of their own blood on the throne, thereby diluting our Valyrian heritage with Andal customs."
Jaehaerys, his countenance grave, nodded in agreement. "I concur, Otto is a dangerous adversary. However, we cannot abruptly remove him from power without substantial cause, especially given his remarkable efficiency as Hand. For now, we must keep him under watchful eyes."
Rhaegar, undeterred, continued, "Our most pressing challenge lies with our damaged relationship with the Velaryons and, more critically, with my father. We must train him vigorously to ensure he does not succumb to spinelessness as king."
Jaehaerys exhaled deeply, his shoulders sagging under the weight of responsibility. "Indeed, Rhaegar. That is a paramount task that we cannot afford to neglect. We must not allow another fool to ascend the throne."
"House Targaryen must remain united throughout everything, for from our line comes the prince who was promised, to save the world we must first save our house" replied Rhaegar, "And to ensure the safety of the House we must ensure the unity of all its members"
The conversation then pivoted to the issue of Daemon. "Daemon is currently in turmoil because life has not unfolded according to his desires," Rhaegar confided. "He has always wanted a Valyrian bride, he hates Rhea Royce for she is not one of us"
Jaehaerys sighed deeply, running a hand through his silver locks. "An annulment would be an affront to House Royce."
Rhaegar smiled, his eyes revealing a glimmer of his strategic mind. "Daemon will just have to wait a bit longer, and we can use the possibility of an eventual annulment to keep him in line. He's a valuable asset, loyal to the bone. My uncle will be one of our greatest allies when Father is king, we just need to make sure that Otto cannot remove him from court"
Jaehaerys agreed, determination in his gaze. "I will summon Viserys and Daemon this afternoon and establish the rules that will ensure Daemon's presence and loyalty within King's Landing. We shall prepare them both for the challenges that lie ahead."
As their discussion reached its natural conclusion, Jaehaerys signaled their meal's end. "Now, Rhaegar, we must prepare for the day's duties," he remarked with an air of resolution.
Rhaegar nodded, rising from his seat. "Indeed, Grandfather. We have much work to do, but together, we shall secure the future of House Targaryen."
With that, Rhaegar departed from the private chambers, leaving the king to ponder the weighty decisions that would shape their family's destiny.
-Jaehaerys P.O.V-
Late afternoon bathed King Jaehaerys' private chambers in a warm, golden light that cast long shadows across the room. The king sat at the grand oaken table, his fingers tracing idle patterns on its polished surface as he contemplated the weight of his regrets.
He gazed out of the window, where the light of the setting sun painted the sky with hues of orange and crimson. It was a reminder of the passing of time, of the years that had flowed like a river, carrying with them both triumphs and regrets.
In the quiet moments of this late afternoon, Jaehaerys' mind wandered through the labyrinth of his past, a past paved with choices that had shaped the fate of his family and his house. The title of "Good King Jaehaerys" hung around his neck like a gilded noose, a constant reminder of the burdens he had borne.
His thoughts, heavy with the weight of responsibility and remorse, turned to his children, his own flesh and blood. "There's a saying," he murmured to himself, his voice tinged with melancholy, "that no parent should outlive their child." It was a saying that had haunted him ever since the deaths of his beloved sons, Aemon and Baelon.
A heavy sigh escaped his lips as his thoughts turned to Saera, his favorite daughter. "Saera," he whispered her name with a mixture of sorrow and longing. She had been a true dragon, unyielding, and unapologetic. But in his anger, he had cast her aside, disinherited her, and sent her to the Silent Sisters. The memory of her, once full of promise and fire, now reduced to the life of a Lyseni whore, weighed heavily on his conscience.
He thought of Baelon, his heir after Aemon's passing, and the consequences of that choice. "I made him heir," he confessed bitterly, "denying Rhaenys her rightful place as queen. It should have been her due, but I... I feared what the realm would say." Regret clawed at his heart as he remembered the shattered relationship between Baelon and the last living memory of his brother, Rhaenys.
As he stared at the untouched breakfast before him, the old king clenched his fists, his knuckles white. "Daella and Viserra," he mumbled regretfully, "I should have allowed them to bond with dragons. I knew it would have been dangerous once they got married, but it would have given our house a strength we desperately need. Maybe a dragon could have made Daella healthier or maybe Viserra less wild"
Just as the weight of his regrets threatened to consume him, the guards announced the arrival of his grandsons, Viserys and Daemon. Jaehaerys straightened his posture, burying his regrets beneath the mantle of the king, ready to face the challenges that lay ahead.
Daemon and Viserys entered their grandfather's private chambers with a respectful bow, acknowledging the presence of the aging king. Jaehaerys nodded in response and gestured for them to sit.
"I'm sure you're curious why I've called you here," Jaehaerys began, his voice carrying a note of gravity. "I don't often summon you both in such a manner."
Daemon, ever the bold and inquisitive one, spoke up, "Indeed, Grandfather. It's not common for you to ask for our presence together."
Jaehaerys nodded. "This matter is of utmost importance, especially for you, Viserys, as you are to be the next king."
Viserys sat up a little straighter in his seat, his youthful curiosity piqued. "What is it, Grandfather? What's so important that you've called us here tonight?"
The king leaned forward, his aged fingers wrapping around the hilt of a Valyrian steel dagger that lay upon the table. Its glimmering blade shimmered in the candlelight as he approached the flickering flames.
"What I'm about to tell you," Jaehaerys began, "must not be spoken of elsewhere. This knowledge is a sacred trust, passed down from king to heir." He glanced at Daemon, who had a puzzled expression on his face.
"Why am I here then?" Daemon interjected, his eyes narrowing with curiosity.
"I'll explain that later," Jaehaerys replied firmly, returning his focus to the dagger in his hand. "This dagger once belonged to Aegon the Conqueror himself. It was Aenar's before him. And before that... it is difficult to know. Before Aegon's death, the last of the Valyrian pyromancers hid his song in the steel." He carefully positioned the dagger above the candle flames.
Daemon and Viserys exchanged a bewildered look, their attention now fully captured.
As the dagger warmed in the flames, letters began to appear, etched into the Valyrian steel. Viserys, with a growing sense of anticipation, read the words aloud. "From my blood will come the prince that was promised, and his will be the Song of Ice and Fire."
Daemon and Viserys exchanged another look, this time one of astonishment. It was a phrase neither of them had ever heard before.
Viserys turned to Jaehaerys, his voice trembling with curiosity. "What does this mean, Grandfather?"
Jaehaerys returned to his seat, the weight of the years heavy upon him, and began to unravel the story. "The Song of Ice and Fire," he explained, "is a prophecy dreamt by Aegon the Conqueror himself. It was the driving force behind his vision to unite Westeros under the banner of a single house. The realm must be united, he believed, to face a danger that is yet to come."
Daemon leaned forward, his eyes wide with alarm. "What danger?" he asked urgently.
"The Long Night," Jaehaerys answered gravely. "Aegon dreamt of a future where the dead would walk the land, where eternal winter would bury the world beneath mountains of snow. Monsters of blue skin and the touch of ice would bring ruin to all. The prophecy tells us that the only one who can save us from this dire fate is the Prince who was Promised, a descendant of House Targaryen, who can wield the power to defeat these abominations and restore warmth to the world."
Silence fell over the room as Daemon and Viserys absorbed the weight of their grandfather's revelation. The fate of the realm rested on their shoulders, as did the legacy of House Targaryen.
Viserys absorbed the weight of his grandfather's revelation, his young mind racing with the implications of the prophecy. After a moment of silence, he finally found his voice. "What can we do to make this prophecy a reality, Grandfather?"
Jaehaerys looked at Viserys with a sense of pride and determination. "All we can do, my boy, is ensure that the strength of House Targaryen endures and that our realm remains united. It is our duty to protect our legacy."
Viserys nodded, a newfound sense of purpose burning within him. "Then we will do whatever it takes to uphold our house's honor and the safety of the realm."
Jaehaerys smiled warmly at his grandson. "That is precisely why we are here tonight. Viserys, you are to be the next king, and you must learn everything it entails. Daemon, you will be his loyal Hand."
Daemon nearly choked on his surprise. "Hand? Me?"
Viserys, too, was taken aback. "But what about Otto Hightower? He has been a loyal Hand to you, Grandfather."
Daemon, not one to mince words, muttered, "A loyal Hand to himself, more like."
Viserys, his expression torn between loyalty to Otto and trust in his brother, said, "But, Daemon, we shouldn't judge a man so harshly. Grandfather trusts him."
Daemon's frustration simmered. "Viserys, you always see the best in people. That's a virtue, I suppose, but it's also your greatest flaw. Otto Hightower is as slippery as an eel, and you'd do well not to forget that."
Jaehaerys raised his hand to silence the brewing argument. "There is much you both must learn. Viserys, trust is a valuable but dangerous currency in the court. Otto is here because my spies have informed me that the Hightowers are planning something and trying to involve the Faith. He remains at court so that I can keep a watchful eye on him and give the impression that we are oblivious to their schemes."
Viserys was about to speak in Otto's defense, but Daemon interjected firmly, "He's a self-serving cunt, Viserys."
Viserys sighed and looked conflicted but said, "Daemon, you should not disrespect him like so."
Daemon's frustration boiled over. "Viserys, you must open your eyes! I have seen how Otto maneuvers at court, how he whispers in Grandfather's ear, always with his own interests in mind. Do you think he serves our family's interests? No, he serves himself."
Viserys, still caught between his trusting nature and his brother's warning, replied, "But Grandfather trusts him. He wouldn't keep him close if he didn't believe in him."
Daemon's tone grew more exasperated. "Grandfather is wise, but he's also getting older, and perhaps he places too much faith in Otto."
Jaehaerys interrupted their growing tension. "This is precisely why I want Daemon as Hand. Viserys, you have a trusting heart, and that is admirable. However, it is also a vulnerability something a good King cannot have. A good king must keep his friends close but his enemies closer."
Viserys felt a pang of shame, bowing his head. Daemon, ever the fierce protector of his brother, stepped in, defending Viserys. "Viserys will make a magnificent king."
Jaehaerys smiled gently at his grandsons. "Do you see, Viserys? Even in your disagreements, Daemon comes to your aid without question. That, dear boy, is exactly why I want Daemon as Hand."
He continued, calling Daemon and Viserys the two sides of the same coin. "With both of you working together, balancing each other out, our house will flourish. Daemon will be the sword, and Viserys the shield. Together, you will protect House Targaryen and the realm."
King Jaehaerys looked from Viserys to Daemon, his expression now one of wisdom and resolve. "You both must learn the ways of ruling the realm properly. Viserys, as the future king, you must trust others, but with great caution. Men often serve the realm only as long as it serves themselves. Trust your family above all else."
Viserys nodded, taking in his grandfather's advice. "I understand, Grandfather."
Jaehaerys smiled gently. "Now, it is late, and Rhaenyra always asks for a bedtime story from you, Viserys. You should return to your family."
Daemon was about to leave alongside his brother, but Jaehaerys stopped him with a gesture. "Daemon, stay. We have more to discuss."
As they both sat down Jaehaerys resumed their conversation " I see you haven't been to the Vale in a while"
Daemon, his usual brashness showing, responded, "I do not wish to return to the Vale, Grandfather. I'm better off here in the Red Keep with my family."
Jaehaerys sighed a hint of sadness in his eyes. "Your grandmother, Alysanne, arranged your marriage to Rhea Royce with the best of intentions."
Daemon's anger flared, and he blurted out, "Is all we're going to discuss? my Bronze Bitch? If so, I'd rather leave."
Jaehaerys, unperturbed, poured himself a glass of wine before continuing, "I see that you are miserable, Daemon. I've considered breaking the marriage, but it would insult the Royces, something we cannot afford."
Daemon clenched his fist, his frustration evident. "Am I destined to be trapped in this farce of a marriage forever then?"
A glimmer of hope appeared in Daemon's eyes when Jaehaerys said, "I am willing to break the marriage if you are open to my counsel."
Daemon's face lit up, and he eagerly declared, "I'll do anything, Grandfather."
Jaehaerys leaned in closer, his voice low and conspiratorial. "You must prove yourself, Daemon. Strive to become the best Hand of the King, earning the support of the lords over Otto Hightower. Train diligently and curb your bloodthirstiness and impulsiveness."
Daemon nodded, his determination showing.
"Why should I seek the favor of others and bow down to sheep when I am a Dragon?" Daemon questioned, his pride unmistakable.
Jaehaerys replied sagely, "Even Dragons need sheep to thrive. A dragon will die without any sheep to fill its belly. Our end goal is a united Westeros, and for that, we need the support of the lords."
"Also," Jaehaerys added, "you must hide your... extracurricular activities. They tarnish your reputation and insult your lady wife."
Daemon frowned but acknowledged the truth in those words.
The bombshell came when Jaehaerys said, "Above all else, Daemon, you must produce an heir with Rhea Royce."
Daemon sputtered, "I'd rather fuck sheep"
Jaehaerys cut him off, calmly stating, "Think of the benefits, Daemon. The child will be the next ruler of Runestone, solidifying our power in the Vale. They will allow us to be directly related to two of the most powerful houses in the Vale. And, if it's a girl, she may marry back into our family, even becoming the next Queen through a union with Rhaegar's children."
Daemon resisted, skeptical and reluctant.
Jaehaerys, however, had one final revelation that silenced Daemon. "Rhea Royce doesn't necessarily need to live past the birth of your child. Childbirth is perilous for women, and accidents can happen."
Daemon's eyes widened, his thoughts racing. He looked at Jaehaerys, a dangerous glint in his eye. "Are you suggesting what I think you are?"
Jaehaerys merely smirked and said, "I'm merely discussing possibilities for the good of the family, Daemon."
With a sense of determination, Daemon accepted his grandfather's offer, his path forward now clear."I accept your offer, Grandfather I will become the best Hand this kingdom has ever seen. And then you will have to keep your word"
Jaehaerys's smile was both approving and somewhat remorseful. "Remember, Daemon, above all else, it is for the good of the family."
As Daemon left the room, Jaehaerys turned his gaze back to the flickering flames in the fireplace. A sense of guilt washed over him as he contemplated the path he had set in motion, knowing that his beloved Alysanne would be deeply disappointed in him. Yet, in that moment, he couldn't bring himself to care anymore.