Geralt P.O.V
The Dance of Dragons had began.
And was there was no turning back now. The factions had been divided, the realm now stood on the blade of two edged sword, hanging in the balance of chaos and war, between the Greens and the Blacks.
Nonetheless, here I stood in the royal gardens, looking out to the seas of the Black Water Rush, watching as the waves crashed in tempest, shifting my memories through a screen, while I reminisced the past like it was just yesterday.
No-one can tell the story better than I do, because it all started when I was a baby in the cradle. A boy born on a forth night to the most beautiful couple in world, along with my dragon egg that hatched birthing my black beast, it's red orbs like the embers of hell and it's black scales simmering like dark night with tiny red scales on its wings. A fascinating creature.
Anyways I've being told the same story by my Septon, Septon Eustace. Whenever I feel bored, he often reminds me how House Targaryen rose to be the most formidable ancient noble house in the Seven Kingdoms.
Yet ever since I was a boy, from what I recall, it goes something like this......
As the first century of the Targaryen dynasty came to a close, the health of the Old King Jaehaerys was failing.
In those days House Targaryen stood at the height of it's strength, with 12 adult dragons under it's yoke. No power in the world could stand against it
So, in the year 101, the Old King called a Great Council to choose an heir. Over a thousand lords made the journey to Harrenhall.
Harrenhall was the largest castle in the Seven Kingdoms was nearly destroyed in Aegon's Conquest.
On most days, the place is a haunted memory of the might of the Targaryen dragons. But those days was not today.
Today...... an heir would be chosen for the next generation.
In Harrenhall, thousands of people gathered, the banners and sigils of houses great and small: The Kingdom of the North, the Kingdom of the Mountain and the Vale, the Kingdom of the Isles and the Rivers, the Kingdom of the Rock, the Kingdom of the Storm lands, the Kingdom of the Reach, the Principality of Dorne, all which fill the former hall of Harren the Black.
At the head of the great hall was a large dais, upon which sat the Old King, my great great grand father King Jaehaerys Targaryen the Conciliator. The old man was in his 80s, stooped and weak, the burdens of time and duty were evidently weighing on him.
King Jaehaerys reigned over nearly sixty years of peace and prosperity. But, tradegy claimed both his sons, leaving his succession in doubt.
A terrible disaster.
While the Old King addressed the people, The shot pans up from the floor to two Archmaesters of the citadel comes in from the main entrance carrying a large chest through a crowded room towards the king, ascending the dais.
The Seven Knights of the Kingsguard were arrayed in a line at the foot of the dais. Including an Archmaester of the Citadel.
The High Septon also stood on the dais with the candidates, two distinct rules of succession.
Standing on the left side of the dais itself were the two candidates, my great aunt Princess Rhaenys Targaryen, a beauty in her early 40s and her husband, Lord Corlys Velaryon, dark skinned, very young man and proud in his mid 40s.
The Sea Snake, that's what they called him. His house were also descendants of Old Valyria, very ancient than House Targaryen.
Corlys Velaryon is the second wealthiest man in westeros with plenty of ships at his command.
With his sacred union with Princess Rheanys Targaryen, it was evident the man loved power and his ambition would sooner or later blind him, but he was very anxious and eager to hear the final decree of the King.
Meanwhile, standing on the right side of the dias stood my father, Prince Viserys Targaryen, regal, aigle and handsome in his 30s. My father loved arts, culture and histories even more than riding a dragon.
My father was a man of integrity, very respected amongst the people and small folks and beside him stood his cousin, my step mother Lady Aemma Arryn, a pretty woman in her 20s.
She was quite pregnant, yet it seemed she wasn't fit for that position to stand beside my father.....I mean look at her... very frail, and young, quite the opposite of my late mother.
Aemma just stood there innocently like a bird, holding hands with my father like she was holding a leaf.
Yet.....what could I do?
Nothing.
I was three when i lost my birth mother to an incurable illness, a stroke they say was what killed her. A stroke at child birth and a breach in her womb.
I miss her though, I wish she was here to witness this auspicious day.
However, fourteen succession claims were heard, but only two were truly considered.
Princess Rheanys Targaryen, the King's eldest descendant and her younger cousin Prince Viserys Targaryen, the King's eldest male descendant.
The archmaesters arrived at top dias and place the chest down on the table and open the latch.
The vote was said to have been twenty-to-one and yet only the King had the final say to decided who'd inherits the iron throne.
The Old King reaches his frail hands inside the chest, where the results of the vote were written on a Square Of Parchment, secured with the wax seal of the Citadel.
Jaehaerys breaks the seal, let's out a little breath and opens the parchment.
He paused for a while.
Silence erupted at every corner of Harrenhall, from the highest lord to the lowest common born servant, they all held their breath, the hall was filled with tension and the whole place was silent like a graveyard
And so Jaehaerys looks up to face all the lords of the Seven Kingdoms and reads the decree.
"It is declared by all lord paramount and all lord vassals of the Seven Kingdoms...... that Prince Viserys Targaryen be made Prince of DragonStone." Jaehaerys decreed as the hall erupted with shouts of cheers and applauds.
Gently he exhales. lifting the heavy burden on his shoulders has, at last, been lifted. The realm has spoken as one.
Many lords saw this as an 'iron precedent' the Throne will always be inherited by men.
Viserys and his wife Aemma look relieved, while Rhaenys remains mostly expressionless.
Uncertain, rumour has it that the masters rigged the vote, the lords choose Viserys because he didn't have a dragon, but Princess Rheanys had Meleys and her son Laenor had SeaSmoke and she is a woman, men cannot serve women.
If King Jaehaerys would allow absolute primogeniture system: meaning the eldest descendant of the King would inherit the iron throne, regardless of gender.
If they set that precedent, Princess Rheanys would have been Queen, but unfortunately Rheanys was denied, a woman would not inherit the iron throne the lords instead chose Viserys, my father.
Viserys the peaceful.
The lords of Westeros decided to go with male preferred primogeniture system: setting the precedent that the eldest living male descendant of the King inherits the iron throne.
Jaehaerys called the Great Council to prevent a war being fought over his succession. For he knew the cold truth,the only thing, that could tear down the House of the Dragon........ was itself.
And there I was in the arms of my uncle, holding honey-sweet in my right hand and my dragon toy in other hand, with no knowledge of the happenings in my environment.
Nothing in the world that day was more important than honey-sweet my wet nurse had given me. I was a boy after all, and boys liked sweet things.
Much to everyone's dismay, Rheanys will forever be known as the Queen Who Never Was.
"Look little one....Over there at the podium.... Look.... One day it will be your turn eh." Oberyn Martell whispered close to my ears with a smile, admits the noise as he carries me in his arms.
He was closest sibling to my mother and now the farthest person to me.
"Your father is going to be a King and you will be a crown prince, his heir." He whispered to my ears, while I cooed, playing with my dragon toy.
I remember him laughing at my remarks. What did a boy of three know about responsibility or royalty, other than food, sleep and play with dragon toys.
"Geralt, my sweet nephew. You may be a Targaryen, but you have the blood of a Martell in your veins and you have your mother's blood, a Witcher." Oberyn proudly indicates while I cooed.
He let's out a sigh, almost at the brink of tears.
".. How I wish....your mother was here......" he paused with a sigh.
"Visenna would've been more happier to see this day......hmm...a day she'll be known as Queen Visenna De Rivia Martell of the Seven Kingdoms and you my nephew will be the dragon prince......argh." Oberyn countered whilst teasing me, and yet I coo, giggling nonstop.
"However somethings can't be undone my boy, the gods gives as well as they take. But soon you will walk those steps Geralt"
"Soon your father will name you his heir and all of westeros will witness your ascent. I will witness it...... "
"I'll be here, at the front row in my yellow tunic.....a proud uncle eh..." Oberyn Martell stares at me, laughing at my gestures.
"One day the arch-maesters too, will write your name in the history books.....Geralt Targaryen."
"The Dragon Prince....heir to the iron throne...... mah!" He confidently stares with assurance, leaning his my forehead closer to mine, while making funny faces.
I cooed, giggling wholeheartedly with Innocence as my purple eyes glistened with glee.
Exhilarated, my uncle laughs out loud and plants kisses on my cheeks before he looked unto the dias, joining the celebration as people kept cheering Viserys Targaryen.
Today my father was , a joyful moment for him and my step mother, little did I know that my life would take a drastic turn, and would soon change beyond my imaginations.
If I could turn back time, I'd make fate appoint Princess Rheanys as Queen, not my father Viserys.
Don't judge me, you know it's true. Viserys being King is a good thing for the realm, but to me my father's reign tore me apart, my world went out of balance, died and was reborn again in the mix of conflicts and unforgivable chaos.
The Great Council decision, once again sets an institutional precedent for the line of succession, and this will have a ripple effect on the entire future of House Targaryen.
And if I'm to choose between one evil and another, then I prefer not to choose at all, yet I must try to keep the thin line of balance from throwing itself into chaos.
Even though I seek to dwell under an olive tree for my mental state, health and safety, l still get tossed into a rift of violence, a chaos that drives me futhur into madness, just because who women saw each other as rivals and threats to the Iron throne.
Two epiphanys, who caused the Dance Of Dragons: my half sister Princess Rheanyra Targaryen and her best friend Lady Alicent Hightower, whom I married.
Although I wish I could change back time, and bring my mother black to life, maybe if she was here, still married to Viserys Targaryen, maybe things will be entirely different, maybe Aemma wouldn't be in the picture, maybe Rheanyra wouldn't have existed.
If the gods could start the world all over again, maybe my mother would have been the most powerful ruler of the Seven Kingdoms. Unbowed, Unbent, Unbroken.
My true birth mother: Queen Visenna Martell, but alas the gods had other plans, though I pray everyday that her soul rests in peace.
*****
Thanks for reading.
To see more chapters, add this book to your reading list.
VOTE 🌟, COMMENT and SHARE to your Wattpad Friends.
Je t'aime 💕
Lewa Kulture