Chapter Text
The sun was shining through the window of the nursery as Rhaenyra Targaryen sat beside a silver haired toddler.
“Nyra” The boy babbled as his pudgy fist reached up to grab a strand of her silver hair. “Rhaenyra.” She repeated with exasperation. A grin splits the boy’s face as he stares straight at her and says again “Nyra.” Aegon was past his fifth nameday and yet he refused to say her name correctly; she was certain he was doing it on purpose and using his chubby cheeks and big brown eyes to tug on her heartstrings and bend her to his will.
A wail interrupted her musings.
She stood up from the wooden block prison Aegon constructed and strode over to the small bed, where her newest brother napped soundly, arms cradling a stuffed dragon. A poor replacement for an egg that had gone cold only a moon after his birth. The wails continued and Rhaenyra approached the cradle. At three, Helaena had outgrown her infancy, yet the Princess had steadfastly refused to sleep anywhere but her cradle. After her third nameday, the Queen and Mellos had prohibited swaddling the girl for any longer, for fear of malformed limbs. Since then her sweet sister would shriek and wail for hours at night and had driven two nursemaids away in the past six moons alone. The only way to settle her at night, Rhaenyra had learnt, was to put her in the cradle and rock her to sleep.
Rhaenyra gripped the side of the wooden cradle and gently began to rock it to-and-fro. Helaena’s eyes opened, ashine with tears, and met Rhaenyra’s for a moment. Then her eyes travelled and fixated on something on Rhaenyra’s torso, and her shrill shrieks quieted. Rhaenyra looked down to see what her sister was captivated by and stared at her necklace. A ruby and onyx encrusted ladybug, a betrothal gift from Laenor. “Do you want the ladybug, little Princess?” She asked sweetly. Helaena nodded as if she understood exactly what her sister said. Rhaenyra reached forward and picked Helaena up and out of the cradle, balancing on her hip as her baby sister gripped the bejewelled bug. Rhaenyra was relieved that it had captivated her interest, and that the girl wasn’t screaming but the toddler’s silence was strange, Helaena had yet to speak beyond strangled cries and Rhaenyra’s attempts to teach her name had gone ignored. But she was sure that she preferred silence to screams.
“Princess.” Alicent’s stiff voice reverberated through the nursery.
“Your grace,” Rhaenyra replied as she turned to face the woman. Alicent was standing in the doorway, flanked by her loyal nursemaid and guard.
“Why are you here?” Her tone was sharp and accusatory.
“I am visiting my siblings.” She was not asking permission; she was stating her purpose.
“Why? You have not spent time with them before.”
“No? Have you constantly been in the nursery since Aegon’s birth?”
“No.” She was confused.
“Then how can you know where I spend my time?” She feigneds bewilderment and Alicent’s mouth pinched. “I admit I have been busy since the wedding and my duties, and I wished to rectify my oversight and spend time with my siblings.”
“That is most thoughtful.” She got out through gritted teeth. Rhaenyra saw the anger behind her eyes and knew that it would end with silent glares. And Rhaenyra was in no mood for a stand-off.
“I will leave you to spend time with them, I must ready myself for dinner. Good evening, your grace.”
She dislodged Helaena from her hip and handed the girl to the Queen. Helaena began to shriek the moment Alicent held her. She desperately tried to soothe her as Rhaenyra tried to stop herself from ripping Helaena from Alicent’s arms. She told herself that Helaena would settle and sweeps from the room.
Helaena doesn’t settle, Rhaenyra can hear her crying when she walks to dinner, and as she returns to her chambers.
Later that night, as she lies awake, she cannot help thinking about poor Helaena. She stands and slips into a robe and silk slippers. She grabs a candle and something off her dresser and sets off to the nursery. Ser Erryk does not question it but follows her dutifully. She leaves him outside the doors and creeps in. The nursemaid is out like a light and smelling of drink. Aegon looks at her with curiosity as she approaches the wailing girl. She presses a finger to her lips before fussing with Helaena’s cradle. Five minutes later, she leaves a nursery filled with two sleeping children and one of her own trusted maids.
The next morning, Alicent enters the nursery to see a new maid, one loyal to Rhaenyra, holding Aemond and her daughter, quietly sat in her cradle, staring with wonder at a bejewelled ladybug that swings from the cradle as Aegon wildly rocks her back and forth.
Rhaenyra seems to become a permanent fixture in the nursery, whenever the Princess is not in council meetings or spending time with her good-mother and husband, she is there. Alicent often finds her splayed out on the floor while Aegon triumphantly lifts a toy sword into the air and Helaena and Aemond fiddle with her hair. At first, Alicent tries to bar Rhaenyra from the nursery, but the spoiled girl goes crying to her Father and suddenly she is the one being chastised by her husband. Soon, Rhaenyra is found in the godswood with her siblings, guarded by Ser Harwin Strong as they weave crowns from the weirwood leaves. Ladies of the court stop and praise Rhaenyra for her motherly nature and gently inquire about any pregnancy. It pleases Alicent when Rhaenyra sadly shakes her head and the women move on. Laenor Velaryon was a rumoured sword-swallower and Alicent had no doubt that their union would bear no fruit.
That is why it comes as no surprise that Rhaenyra Targaryen and her household abscond to Dragonstone and the Princess returns, carrying a child in her belly. Alicent knows that the child is a bastard of Harwin Strong, and she rubs her swollen belly with satisfaction. When her child is born is three moons, with silver hair and purple eyes, they will see a trueborn prince. And when Rhaenyra births that bastard, Viserys will finally see truth and send her and that child away in disgrace.
Three moons later and after a long and difficult labour, like all the rest, Alicent brings forth a baby boy named Daeron, with silver hair and brown eyes.
The King is indifferent, too busy fussing over his heavily pregnant daughter.
Rhaenyra is pampered, her father, good-father, good-mother, sworn shield and husband all fussing over the girl. The ladies of the court fawn over her, saying how she glows, and how the mother has blessed her. They bring her lemon cakes and soothing teas as they giggle and gossip. Even Aegon and Helaena join in. Aegon mimicks Laenor in his fretting and Rhaenyra simply smiles and peppers him with kisses as he squirms away. Helaena is content to sit beside her sister, hands on Rhaenyra’s belly, feeling the kicks of the babe and babbling.
When Rhaenyra’s labours began, her children have to be escorted from the doors of Rhaenyra’s chambers and sequestered in the nursey with the Queen. Helaena screams and screams until her voice gives out and then she begins to pound her tiny fists on the doors of the nursery. Alicent is afraid as she hears the yells of her childhood companion but she cannot bring herself to leave her apartments, not even when Rhaenyra begins to cry out for Alicent and Aemma. Instead she clutches Aemond close and tries to muffle Rhaenyra’s screams for Daemon.
Alicent wakes a few hours later to the bells ringing joyfully through the city and a knock on her door. Rhaenyra had, safely and quickly, delivered a son and the King requested her presence.
She stands from her chair by the fire, careful not to disturb Aemond, and approaches her wardrobe. The dress she picks is a shining emerald green, embellished with dragons. A belt of golden dragons hangs down from her hips. She calls her maids to do her hair, letting her long curls cascade over her shoulders, crowned with a golden circlet. She is sending a message, that she is the Queen, she is young, beautiful, and mother of four Targaryens, she will not be threatened by a spoilt princess and her bastard baby son.
She arrives at Rhaenyra’s chambers and arranges her features into a pleasant smile. She is announced and steps into the room. Rhaenyra is propped up in her bed, and Alicent has to admit that she is glowing. Laenor sits beside her, cradling a bundle of scarlet, as Viserys sits by the fire.
"Congratulations Princess, a healthy boy."
Rhaenyra gives a nod of assent before turning to Laenor.
"May I please have my son back now?"
Laenor ignores her and brings his face close to the bundle.
"Do you hear that Jace? Your mother wants to steal you from me."
"I birthed him." Her voice is exhausted but happy.
"Jace?" She questions.
"Jacaerys, a noble Velaryon name." Viserys cuts in and Laenor nods. Alicent can feel herself going pink for Lord Corlys, she has the audacity to give her bastard a Velaryon name.
"Alicent, come, meet a future King." Viserys beckons her over. Rhaenyra’s face sours for a moment but she recomposes herself and smiles sweetly. Laenor offers the bundle to Alicent and she takes the boy.
Once in her arms, she pulls back the blankets, to reveal a baby boy with tawny brown skin and wisps of curling silver hair.
She almost throws the child back at Rhaenyra. Somehow, the whore had managed the impossible. She had a trueborn Velaryon son. She wanted to scream. The bitch had won again, with no consequences for her whoring and debauchery, and had gained the support of the richest house in the realm. Spoilt cunt!
A moon later, Jacaerys Velaryon manages a feat that none of Alicent’s children could, his cradle egg hatches.
A maid spends the rest of that day cleaning shattered ceramic from the floor of the Queen’s rooms.