All that Glitters

by TobiahThornwood

Summary:

In another world Rhaenyra would choose none of the suitors she was presented during her tour, and would even cut the tour short. She would be made to marry Laenor Velaryon, who could give her no heirs, and the children she bore while married to him would become part of the reasoning for the civil war that would bring an end to the height of Targaryen power... This is not that world.

The song is changed, a new dance to be danced to it's tune, but even a different dance may repeat some of the steps of the last. All that can be hoped is that this dance is just different enough to change where this dance ends, and on what note the song's last chord is played.

Notes:

Welcome one and all to the first of three fics I like to call 'the women of Westeros deserve better' or officiall 'Those who deserved better'. This one obviously has the main focus on Rhaenyra, with the next focusing on Alicent and the last focusing on a more general focus. I would like to say, I am team Black, but i'm not someone who thinks Alicent is evil of that Rhaenyra is perfect, I'm quite the realist, which will be reflected in these fics.

I want to say before we get started, please stay respectful in the comments. I always welcome constructive criticism an respectful debate, but the moment things get personal of rude I will delete comments that cross any lines. Let's all remember that we are all humans worthy of respect and consideration.

Now enjoy the fic, and remember to Comment and Kudos! I thrive off interaction after all, and it helps keep me motivated.

Chapter 1: Tommen Thornwood: Changes in nature

Summary:

Lord Thornwood considers the changes in his brother and his brother's summer love for a certain princess.

The Lord of house Thornwood sat in his solar, the crackle of the fire and the scratching of quill on parchment the only sounds to fill the air. Tommen Thornwood found himself steady at work, taking accounts and setting them in order for when the taxes were to be sent off to the crown. Something he had gotten used to now that it's his third year completing the task, even if he did still feel some degree of nervousness, fearing he may make an error.

It didn't help that this year he did not have the aid of his younger brother, not for any lack of offer on said brother's part. But Tommen wasn't yet sure if Tobiah was truly ready to return to such a task yet. The Maester said Tobiah had recovered all he could be expected to regain from his lost memories, something Tommen grieved deeply, as while most of the skills had remained, the actual memories were now sure to be lost and never to be recovered.

Tommen still mourned that his younger brother could not remember their childhood together, did no know their mother and father's faces anymore, could no longer laugh the same at age old inside jokes between them. Though not all was lost, thank the gods for that. While many of the memories that made him the young man he was, and thus those traits, were lost, the core of who he was still remained, even if changed.

Tobiah was still in the end a loyal young man who would do anything to support those he loved, he was still clever and bright, with a talent for understanding any new idea he was presented. And maybe these traits presented themselves in a slightly different manner than before, but Tommen was just glad to see traces of the man his brother was before still alive and well. After all, the Maester said it was a small miracle he woke up at all, and a blessing that he could think, speak and move without any issue.

"Tommen? Whatever has you so deep in thought that you did not hear me enter, my love? What is it that troubles you so?" The voice of Tommen's beloved wife Elinor draws him from his thoughts and considerations, his grief over what was lost and gratitude for what remained. Elinor had more than surpassed her duties as Tommen's wife, aiding every step of the way in Tobiah's recovery, aiding him where Tommen could not, and now she was well into the proccess of granting Tommen an heir.

"Nothing of import aside from the usual things that keep my mind busy these days, dearest. I had never realised just how much work Tobiah was shouldering for my sake, now that I feel I must do it all myself I wonder if I can go back to allowing him to take up such a task with no reward aside from a pat on the back." It was true, Tobiah had always helped Tommen, so while Tommen appreciated his brother's effort he did not know the true extent to Tobiah's help, as he had never before done the task alone.

It had become like that in many regards, especially when Tobiah still laid on the edge of death and had just awoken, Tommen hadn't known until then just how much his brother was doing for him. And while Tobiah had wormed his way into aiding in some of the household accounting for Elinor and overseeing the care of the stables again, Tommen was sure things could never go back to what they once were. No, Tommen would make sure of it. Tobiah was now recovered, a man of 20 and still without a wife, Tobiah had a life to lead and Tommen would not see his brother hide away to work for the sake of his elder brother.

"Mayhaps there is a way to reward him for assisting you all this time. I myself have given some thought to the matter of your brother, and thought to ask him what it was he desired most now that he has recovered fully. What if I told you we could make it happen, we could see his greatest desire, his first true wish now that he is whole again, come to fruition." That gave Tommen pause, because he knew what his brother had been fixated on, knew there was no reasonble was to see it done.

The first time Tobiah had returned to the public eye to some degree had been the second nameday hunt of the Prince Aegon. Tommen had been told it would be healthy for Tobiah to be surrounded by his fellows while he was still relearning his ways in the world, lest he become withdrawn and be unable to be social in the future. Tobiah hadn't been allowed to ride out on the hunt, Tommen did not think him yet recovered enough for that, but that didn't matter. When the princess had returned from the hunt, covered in the blood of a boar she herself had slain, something had fallen into place in Tobiah's mind. Tommen saw it happen right before his eyes, like a realization and light entered Tobiah's eyes. Since then he had longed for nothing more than to see the princess once more, to have even just one chance to speak with her.

"And how do you propose we do that? The only reason we could even attend the hunt in the first place was that we are lords of the area and supply the house Targaryen with their riding and carriage horses. We have no station to ask for something so grand as the chance to seek audience with the princess simply because my brother is smitten with her." It was the only thing about his brother that frustrated Tommen, his fool brother just had to grow smitten with the princess of all people. If only he could have fallen for a lady of similar station as them, Tommen could then have seen to his brother's happiness.

"Dearest, the princess has announced a tour to find herself a husband. All lords of a station to have A maester in their keep and field more than 1000 men have the right to present themselves, their sons or their brothers. He may see her again, speak to her, and with his rejection we may finally put this summer love of his to rest. Let his have his closure and move on to love and marry at his station." That... wasn't a bad idea. If Tobiah was given a chance and shown that the princess had no interest he may be able to put this behind him. And while their house only barely made the qualifications, they could indeed send Tobiah without it being seen as any oddity. So long as Tobiah promised not to do anything foolish, which Tommen doubted he would.

"Fine, it could do him well, and give him the chance to go out into the world on his own. We cannot coddle him any longer, and harsh though it may be, a rejection may shake him to begin to think seriously on the matter of his future. You may present the idea to him, but he must ask me himself to go, he cannot know we intended this as a manner to shake him of his imaginary summer love." Tommen almost wanted to take the words back the moment he spoke them, realizing just how harsh they sounded when spoken aloud.

But Elinor was already nodding with a smile, preparing herself to go see Tobiah herself. The words had been said, the idea agreed upon, so Tommen resolved not to regret them. Maybe the fact Tobiah would not be the only one being rejected would soften the blow. He certainly hoped he wasn't making a mistake, that it would have been wiser to simply keep him home and let this pass over naturally. Only time would tell, what would come out of this tour.

Chapter 2: Tobiah Thornwood: The road ahead

Summary:

As Tobiah nears his destination a number of factors to consider become clear.

Storm's End looms on the horizon, standing tall and proud against the backdrop of a distant storm. Tobiah's small party wouldn't reach the ancient stronghold until nightfall, but just seeing in now in person made everything feel oh so real to the young man. Half baked plans and considerations stuttering to a halt in his mind as he takes in the sight before him, knowing there was no going back now. This was the path he chose, he would see it through now.

All had begun on the fateful day during the Prince Aegon's second nameday hunt. Tobiah's brother would say he saw his brother fall in love at first sight, the reality however was far more complicated. That moment for Tobiah was a shock to the system that shook him from the stupor he had been living in since waking up in Westeros. It was the realization that if he could witness canon events unfold before him, he could change them as well. A light flickered on behind his eyes then, and while everyone swore up and down that Tobiah with smitten with a princess, the truth would always be so much deeper.

Though it would be a lie to say Tobiah wasn't smitten with the princess, he was, but that had existed to some degree before he had ever awoken in Westeros. It had never felt real, not until he had laid eyes on her, and even then it was more admiration and respect than anything else. But now he was on the road to be presented before her as a potential husband, and he actually thought about it, about her, what the future could be. And something that was hardly there had taken root. It wasn't the head over heels love at first sight others thought it was, but it was something.

"My Lord, we are gaining on the Dondarrion party, it seems a cart has caught on a pothole on the road. Would you prefer we slow or should we pass them?" The knight to Tobiah's left spoke up, shifting in his saddle to get a better view of exactly what was going on up ahead. Dale Oswick was on the younger side, but he was skilled with a blade and loyal as could be, he was one of the best knights house Thornwood had to offer.

"No, let us help them, we may be in competition for the princess's hand but we are also fellow lords of the realm. It would reflect poorly on house Thornwood for me to pass a fellow lord in need for my own gain." Despite his words Tobiah's hand where clenching his reins so tightly his knuckles turned white. Not due to any dislike of lord Dondarrion, but rather because he wondered if even something so small could change the course of tomorrow's events... And anyways, Tobiah stood the best chance tomorrow if he took his place after Lord Dondarrion but before Willem Blackwood.

So his party advanced and made their way to the stalled Dondarrion party, making their offer of aid, which was readily accepted, and Tobiah was guided to where Lord Dondarrion was waiting for the cart to be pulled free clearly frustrated. Introductions were made and small talk exchanged as they waited for the men to find a way for the cart to be freed. Over the crest of the hill a new party could be spotted, bearing the banner of house Blackwood. Which Gave Tobiah the impression that they would be lined up tomorrow in order of arrival, which seemed fair.

"You're presenting yourself to the princess? Are you not concerned that she may take offence, it's a common saying in the Crownlands that when the good-son is the good-father's elder, bad luck and strife in the home will follow. Perhaps you will be the exception to the rule. But I must say, I am inspired by your bravery to present yourself boldly without concern for such an outcome." Tobiah spoke as he sipped his wine, a fraindly smile on his face and his tone kept light.

"Is that what Crownlanders say? I can see where such a saying may come from, I have heard of strife between good-son's and good-father's that are too near in age. Such a thing will not befall me, but should the princess reject my offer on such grounds I will now have a better understanding as to why." It seemed Lord Dondarrion didn't believe Tobiah as he spoke through a tense smile, but he had the grace to pretend he believed Tobiah had his best interest in mind and wasn't being insulted.

In truth Tobiah wasn't trying to insult him, he was preparing him. Dondarrion's rejection clearly stung in the show, and Tobiah hoped to soften the blow by prepping the old man for it by foreshadowing it and offering an explaination. Dondarrion was from the Stormlands, what would he know about some lesser saying in the Crownlands where Tobiah and Rhaenyra both hailed from. It was small, but Tobiah hoped these many small efforts would mean something in the future. And if not, well at least he tried.

"Ah! There it is, the wheel seems to be free now. Let us make haste before the Blackwoods gain on us even more and overtake us. My party will follow yours to ensure you face no more trouble before we reach the gates of Storm's End." A polite enough reason, and as no one else knew they would be lined up the next day in order of arrival and that Tobiah stood to gain anything it seemed like nothing more than a genuine offer of kindness.

"Yes, let us make haste. And my sincere thanks Lord Thornwood for your assistence and... counsel. I will order the men to be mindful of any more potholes so we cause no more trouble for you." Lord Dondarrion's words were slightly tense, but not completely cut off or antagonistic, as though he wasn't entirely sure what to make of Tobiah, couldn't figure out exactly what his angle was or if he even had one.

And so the two parties seperated once more and prepared to finsih their ride to Storm's end, the Blackwood party behind them now less than a half hours ride behind them. Tobiah wondered if his men had sped up the process any, or maybe in the other world that lacked him the Blackwoods would instead aid the Dondarrions. Who can say what was and would have been, what was now was Tobiah exactly where he wanted to be, and all the gladder for it.

The rest of the ride was rather boring, nothing of interest happening aside from the shifting colors of the sky. A storms pasing over the waters in the distance, the sun beginning it's slow descent towards the horizon. It was not until the sun began to truly set that they joined the line of parties waiting for entry, each party being checked over, some who had not had their applications approved beforehand were turned away, causing more stalling and waiting.

By the time the Dondarrion party and Thornwood Party had their turn at the gate it was already late, and the cold was starting set in. Inside people were preparing for the welcoming feast, which would begin an hour after the last expected guest arrived, giving everyone the chance to change into proper attire before the feast. Outside the line was now only a handful of parties long, maybe ten at the most, and all were itching to get out of the cool air and through the castle gates.

The Thornwood party would be ushered in soon enough a flurry of activity beginning to grab all the baggage needed as Tobiah was lead to the chambers he and his men would be using, and in just over and hour the feast began. A blur of food, music and drink that Tobiah hardly paid attention to, though he was hardly the only one. Everyone was tired from the road and eager to see tomorrow. So the night ended relatively early and come the dawn Storm's End would become a flurry of men from noble houses preening and preparing to present themselves to the princess.

Nothing had felt so real as the moment Tobiah was instructed to take his place in the third line to meet the princess, behind Lord Dondarrion, before Willem Blackwood. His thoughts were a mess,his mind racing with what exactly he should say. Should he mention his mother the Dragonseed or not? Should he compare himself to the other lords present or was that a bad idea? Every plan he thought he had was in question.

Finally it was Lord Dondarrion's turn, he could feel some people's eyes fall on him as he was next in line and no one really had faith in the old man to win over the princess. He heard words he recognised, remembered hearing when he had watched the show, and his heart sank to his feet. Because this was real now, there was no backing out, the moment Lord Baratheon would dismiss Lord Dondarrion and call out 'next' it would be his turn.

On the outside Tobiah looked the image of calm, if you didn't look too closely. But on the inside he felt as though he were melting in his boots, reconsidering every choice he had made that lead him to this moment. Finally it happened, the gathered court laughed at Rhaenyra's words and Lord Baratheon called for the next. Tobiah took a few steps forward, steeling himself.

Chapter 3: Rhaenyra Targaryen: All that was offered

Summary:

Rhaenyra endures the many offers for her hand, until finally someone interesting makes and offer worth considering.

The Lord Dondarrion sulks off to the side after Lord Baratheon called for the next suitor to present himself. The man who presents himself next is not so disappointing as many of those that came before, he looked to be nearer to her in age, and had a striking if not handsome look to him. The first thing Rhaenyra noticed was the two streaks of shockingly pale blond hair contrasted against the rest of his nearly black, brown hair. Or maybe it was one larger streak of blond that had been parted in two.

His eyes were also a bright violet color, Rhaenyra would have thought him a Dayne if he hadn't the higher cheekbones and sharper eyes that often came with Valyrian blood. Mayhaps he had some watered down Valyrian blood, or was the child or grandchild of a Dragonseed. If nothing else him bearing at least some Valyrian features made him stand out against the crowd of rather similar looking men present. Though likely he knew that and would try to press it to his advantage, making more of it than it was.

"Your Grace, the houses Thornwood and Targayren have a long though oft forgotten history. The Thornwoods were the first to supply Aegon and his army with horses to bear them across Westeros for the conquest, and from that day since most all the retainers of house Targaryen have ridden horses supplied by our house. And more than a handful of recognised but not legitimised natural born Targaryen children have married into the Thornwood line, my mother included in that admitedly short list... We are the oft forgotten lords loyal to house Targaryen, glad to simply support you all from the shadows."

Well that wasn't exactly what she expected, but Lord Baratheon nodded along, and so she assumed it to be true, he had help vet each of the lords after all. Rhaenyra hadn't known that there was a house that supplied all the horses of their knights or that they had done that during the conquest. But she supposed that made sense, Aegon the conqueror would have had to get the horses from somewhere. If nothing else she had learned something new about the conquest. The bit about the Targaryen bastards marrying into that house was interesting but nothing more than that, and proved her earlier thoughts correct, the young lord would likely try to emphasis that point as though it were important.

"And I would have been content to do much the same, to follow my elder brother's lead and simply support you from the shadows. But fate had other ideas, because during the second nameday hunt for your younger brother I fell in love. When I saw you ride in from the hunt covered in the blood of a boar you had slain yourself I found myself left breathless and in awe. I saw before me then a woman with incredible resolve, with grace and strength in equal measure. And my admiration had not wavered since." The Lord in question sank to a single knee, as though swearing his fealty. And with his words the hall went silent, as everyone's gaze was fixed on the lord kneeling before the princess and professing his love.

Rhaenyra found herself pondering his confession, he seemed to genuinely mean his words, and that was already more than most had offered. But it was his description of her that made something in Rhaenyra's chest squeeze slightly. He spoke of her covered in blood as though it were the most beautiful sight in the world, not something terribly unseemly as most spoke of it as. He spoke of seeing resolve and strength in her, and indeed she remembered in that moment she did feel a great deal of resolve. Perhaps this lord truly saw her as the person she was. Or maybe she was just being hopeful.

"I believe many of my fellow lords have forgotten an important detail as they speak to you of their house histories and their castles. You are the heir to the throne, the future monarch of Westeros, any who married you would not have you as a lady wife but rather you would have them as a consort. You have no need for their castles with fine views, you have the Red Keep and Dragonstone, you have no need for their grand armies, you will have the fealty of all the realms and a dragon at your side to protect you." A few of the lords present scoffed at the Lord's words, insulted, but Rhaenyra felt something else entirely.

Rhaenyra was now paying full attention to this Lord's words, because for the first time one of the 'suitors' spoke, he spoke the truth. Her father had promised her she would not be replaced, she was to be the one to sit the Iron Throne next, and yet all the lords present bragged of how they would treat her well as their lady wife in their castles. Only this lord seemed to understand the truth of the matter, and he did not seem disappointed or disgusted by it. Far from it.

"I offer you my loyalty and genuine respect freely, they will always be yours without question. But should you accept my offer and should we be wed, I would offer you my devotion and love as well. I would do my utmost to support you and stand by your side as you rule the realm, to ease your burdens and offer you counsel in the darkest hour. You will one day be the Queen of Westeros, you will need a consort who knows his place and purpose, and I can only pray you will allow me the chance to be that for you. For I admire the woman you are and the Queen you can become, and I want nothing more than to see you bloom into the great monarch I know in my heart of hearts you can be."

Rhaenyra didn't know what to feel, or rather what it was that she was feeling. Because the sweat on her palms and the halting of her breath told her she was certainly feeling something. And how could she not, she had never heard such and impassioned speech, never imagined she would ever evoke those sorts of emotions in anyone, let alone a handsome lord vying for her hand in marriage.

But he looked so sincere, so honest. His violet eyes shining as he gazed up at her with a gaze Rhaenyra barely understood, but she saw hope in there, and could not bring herself to dash it. All the lords before had been easy to reject, so why was it not easy to say no here? Why did she not want to say no? Lord Baratheon drew her attention away from the bright eyed Lord and back to the present, where everyone seemed to be waiting for her response. It took her a moment to swallow the lump in her throat before she could utter a word.

"Lord Thornwood, I... I am moved by your words and your admiration. I will weigh your offer with the utmost consideration, and I thank you for you and your house's continued support and loyalty... I must hear out the offers of the other lords present, but know that I will have an answer for you soon." Rhaenyra hoped her politely worded response conveyed what she actually meant, how tempted she was to say yes, but how conflicted she felt about that temptation. There were only a handful of lords after Lord Thornwood, and she doubted any could sway her in a similar manner.

"I thank you, your Grace, for the honor of having my offer be taken seriously and considered in truth. And I thank the Lord Baratheon for his hospitality." With that the Lord Thornwood stood from where he knelt and made to join the other lords that had already had their turn, not having to be told to leave by Lord Baratheon calling for the next suitor.

The next suitor was a child, and Rhaenyra's mood soured again, the small reprieve of hope that had been Lord Thornwood was followed by the harsh reminder of the reality that seemed to be every other lord present. He spoke of house Blackwood's and house Targaryen's shared history, likely trying to copy the success of Lord Thornwood. Then he promised her easy days and that he would protect her, another lord pointing out she had a dragon, but that too was just another imitation of what Lord Thornwood had said wasn't it?

When the boys drew their steel Rhaenyra had all but made up her mind, and made to leave, Ser Criston at her side. She called for a ship to be prepared to return to King's landing, the rest of the tour mattered little, she had found her husband. Her thoughts were interrupted by the sight and sound of one of the boys being run through with a sword and Criston bidding her to look away. Yesterday such a sight would have shaken her. But today it only steeled her resolve.

All the lords of Westeros were the same, all but one. She would not let him slip through her grasp, not when such a man was so rare. She did not know if she could love him the way he seemed to love her, but she could appreciate his respect for her and could grow fond of his devotion and support. And that was better than any other lord had offered her. Her father had told her to find a husband that pleases her, and she would do just that.

Notes:

Two chapters in a day? Man I'm on a roll. And so begins the long process of ~Emotions~ and where the real fun begins. I hope this 3 chapter set up hasn't been too much of a hassel to get through. This fic and the next in the series will very much focus on the question 'what is love' and the complexity of human bonds, so if ever thing seem complicated... Well that's why.

Thanks for reading this chapter and remember to comment you thoughts, predictions, wishes for the fic or any advice you may have. I love hearing from readers.

Chapter 4: Criston Cole: What was found

Summary:

Criston Cole gets to stand guard and play witness to a blooming relationship and ponder it's future.

Criston Cole felt conflicted, and he couldn't quite figure out why. Rhaenyra had found a man she said she could be happy to call husband. Criston should have been happy for her, should have been overjoyed. There was nothing wrong with Tobiah Thornwood, he was the brother of a respectable lord with Valyrian blood and a good character. Even Lord Dondarrion who had also been vying for the hand of the princess vouched for Lord Tobiah's good character. So why did Criston feel... Well Criston wasn't yet sure what exactly it was what he felt.

Perhaps Criston felt the younger Thornwood lord wasn't of a high enough station for his princess. Or maybe it was the fact his mother was a Dragonseed and a Targayren bastard at that, not exactly the most prestigious of bloodlines. But in his heart of hearts Criston knew that wasn't it. No, Criston knew that in truth there was nothing wrong with Tobiah Thornwood. But he also could not admit to himself what it was he felt in truth, because it he admitted it to himself it would become true and real.

"Criston, do you think Lord Thornwood could be convinced to join us on the ship back to King's Landing? Surely adding his party to our own wouldn't be too much of a burden. I would like to speak with him privately before I introduce him to father." Criston fumbled a step before shaking his head to bring himself from his surprise. It was already a shock how quickly the princess had become convinced she could have no other man as her husband, now she wanted to bring him to King's Landing with her on the ship?

"It may not be a matter of whether the burden of his party is too great for the ship but rather if Lord Thornwood has the extra attire with him to dress suitably for King's Landing. He likely came only expected to be out of riding leathers for three days. Though he is from the Crownlands, who knows how near his home is to King's Landing and how soon he can have fresh attire delivered. You won't know unless you ask him I'm afraid." It was all Criston could say and hope, that perhaps simple practicality would come between Rhaenyra and whatever new scheme she had in mind.

"I hadn't thought of that... Have Lord Thornwood brought to my solar, I wish to speak with him before we depart, whether he joins us or not." With the order given some servant or other than Criston didn't recognize went to scurry off to find the lord in question. If nothing else Criston was simply glad Rhaenyra had so easily accepted that 'no' might be a possibiltiy in this situation. With how determined she seemed to have Lord Tobiah as her husband he worried she may no longer be willing to hear any sort of rejection.

Which did confuse Criston somewhat, because he wasn't sure Rhaenyra even knew his given name. She only referred to him as 'Lord Thornwood' despite the fact he was the second son and his elder brother held the lordship. Then again, Criston had heard tales of strangers suddenly growing a strong affection for each other before knowing each other's names, though that tended to only happen in old tales and songs. Though if Lord Tobiah spoke true then he at the very least had fallen in love at first sight, who's to say Rhaenyra did not find herself similarly affected.

The wait for Lord Tobiah seemed filled with tension as Rhaenyra played with the rings on her fingers, a tendency of hers Criston had observed more times than he could count. At every pair of footsteps heard the princess perked up before slouching again when they passed, which happened often. Many men worked to move what she had brought with her to the ship they would be taking back to King's landing, all the while Rhaenyra waited for her 'Lord Thornwood' in the solar. Only when a knock came at the door with the announcement that Lord Tobiah had arrived did she finally seem to release the overt tension in her shoulders.

"Lord Thornwood, please come in. There's a matter of great import I must discuss with you." As Rhaenyra spoke she straightened her back and folded her hands in her lap, looking the image of someome calm and collected. Had Criston not just witnessed her nervous wait for her guest he would have believed the image she put forth... If he ignored how she continued to play with the rings on her fingers, twisting them back and forth.

Lord Tobiah entered the solar Rhaenyra had made her own during their short stay, looking every inch the charming young lord everyone at Storm's End was whispering about now. The parted blond streak and violet eyes that everyone seemed to notice was the first thing to catch Criston's eye, they were hard to miss. But that wasn't what Criston focused on. It was the Lord's build and body language. Lord Tobiah had the build of a man many would assume better suited to books than blades, but Criston could see the subtle hints of a firmness in his form that most have missed. As he took his seat Criston saw the subtle flex of muscle others might have mistake as the result of one cake too many.

"Lord Thornwood, I am sure you have heard that I plan to cut my tour short, that I intend to return to King's Landing before the day is out." As Rhaenyra spoke Criston observed the man she had determined to be the one she would present before her father. The lord's attention was focused fully on Rhaenyra, not staring at her, but truly focusing on her. He bore the posture and gaze of a man who wouldn't accept any price in the world to be somewhere else, that he was fully invested in what Rhaenyra was saying.

"I do not blame you for the decision, the showing has been a bit lackluster hasn't it? I'm afraid that we lords of the realm have disappointed you, were I in your position I would wish to return to my home as well." As he spoke Criston could find no hint of falseness or mocking in Lord Tobiah's tone, but Criston knew he still had much to learn on the matter of judging the intentions of others. Still, it seemed that at the very least Lord Thornwood did truly sympathize with Rhaenyra's plight.

"Indeed, I was disappointed by the showing for the most part. All but one of the lords left me wishing to fling myself from the highest point of Storm's End at the mere idea of marrying them. All but one will walk away with nothing but rejection... But not you. Your words truly did move me, and I think that should I marry you I can truly come to grow fond of you and be content in ruling with you as my consort. I wish to extend the invitation for you to join me on the ship to King's Landing so I may present you to my father as my chosen groom."

The solar grew to be as silent as the grave. Lord Thornwood bore a look of confusion for a moment before his eyes lit up like a young child being given a gift they had desired more than anything else. The realization of what Rhaenyra said causing the man to sink from his seat once more to his knee, as though it were the only thing he could think to do in his shock. A brilliant smile crossed his Valyrian touched features as he rested his right hand over his heart. Lord Thornwood looked a man swearing a vow then.

"Your Grace, I cannot express with words how much joy your acceptance of my offer means to me. I know I cannot ask you to love me as I love you, so I will remain content with the fact you have allowed me the privilege to stand by your side. I will do all I can to become a man worthy to be your husband and consort. And I hope your father will not be too disappointed when you present me before him." Lord Tobiah's voice wavered slightly as he spoke, and with that Criston knew he could never begrudge the man to marry Rhaenyra. Not when they both held such deep though differing devotion. Criston would have to make peace within his own mind with Lord Thornwood, and mayhaps some day they could work in tandem to protect and support Rhaenyra where they could.

"I doubt my father would find himself disappointed, he did approve the application your brother sent on your behalf after all. It will be at least an hour or two yet before the ship is ready to leave, I hope it will not be too much a bother for you to gather your party to board in that time?" A slight hesitation crept into Rhaenyra's voice as she posed her question, as though the idea of being told 'no' had in her mind become a snake ready to strike.

"Not at all, once the news that you intended to leave broke I had my men set to preparing to leave in a timely manner. I suppose I should be grateful that my brother is the overly cautious man he is and made me bring extra attire for the trip, else I wouldn't have anything appropriate to wear in King's Landing." Lord Tobiah's tone was light and filled with mirth, as though he could sense and guess Rhaenyra's worries and knew how to sooth them, despite only just having met her. A curious thing Criston took notice of and decided to tuck away for later, should he need it.

The next two hours were a flurry of activity, half of Lord Tobiah's party would return to his brother to deliver the news and to ease the ship's burden, quite a practical thing that. And all while the ship was packed and prepared Rhaenyra seemed to sway between seeimg satisfied with herself and fretting horribly. Something Criston supposed must have been natural in such a situation. Rhaenyra's fretting only stopped when they finally boarded the ship, and from that moment forth it was nothing but non-stop chatter between princess Rhaenyra and Lord Tobiah.

Notes:

Okay so a full description of SI is as follows: Long dark hair with waves and very loose curls, side parted, right down the midle of a large streak of platinum blond. SI wears his hair in a 'half up' braid, the streak of blong carefully parted and brought into the braid to make it more prominent. Violet eyes that lean more towards purple at times. About just over average height with a sturdy but not bulky frame, kinda a sleeper build. Just so everyone knows the visual for sure.

Anyways I hope you liked this chapter, and if you did please comment what you enjoyed about it or didn't enjoy, I thrive off comments and it keeps me going at the pace I'm writing.

Chapter 5: Elinor Thornwood: The ship has sailed

Summary:

Elinor watches her husband spiral and the the castle she had called home for nearly a year turn upside down at the news of her good-brother's betrothal.

Woodward keep hadn't seen this sort of utter chaos since the conquest over a century ago, or so Elinor had been told. The usually quiet and unassuming keep was a now a whirlwind of action and preperations, as everyone that could be spared prepared to leave for King's Landing as fast as was humanly possible. Elinor herself was busy going over the inventory for the wedding gifts to be offered, which now felt oh so lacking.

Tommen, being the ever worry filled man he was, had prepared a wedding gift to give his brother the moment he was old enough to fully realize the importance of marriage and wedding gifts. But as such it was prepared with their station in mind and the likelyhood of a bride from a knightly family, not a royal wedding. Tommen was in full honesty hoping to convince his brother to if nothing else not rush into the wedding, if for no other reason than so a better gift could be found to be presented, the gift currently prepared could then be given as gifts for the betrothal instead.

Elinor could understand why her Lord husband thought to hope for such a plan to work, but she also though it unneeded. The gifts prepared were family heirlooms, no amount of gold could replace that sort of value. But perhaps she was being foolish, this was a princess they were to be good-family to now, mayhaps she would take offense to a wedding gift presented by her good-family to be family heirlooms of a rather modest House.

Well, modest compared to the great Houses of the realm, compared to the knightly house of Elinor's origin the Thornwoods were a rather grand house, but that was the gulf between the smaller houses and the great houses of the realm. Elinor had thought it a dream to marry into a House with such close dealings with house Targaryen and even having royal bastards married into their family, even if some others saw it as a stain and not an honor.

Foolishness is what Elinor called that, if it were such a stain then house Targayren would not still buy all their household horses from the Thornwoods, would not still invite them to royal nameday hunts, would not marry to their family. Clearly Elinor had been in the right with her thoughts that royal bastards of the Targayren line were special, better than other 'natural born' children. After all, Elinor's good-mother had married into house Thornwood and even had a wedding gift sent to her by the steward of Dragonstone, that was a far cry from the gods-given fate most bastards faced.

"Elinor! Have you made sure the tapestry my great-grandsire was gifted has been included?" The sound of Tommen's voice drew Elinor from her thoughts, and the Lady of Woodward couldn't help but smile at the realization that she had managed to get lost in her own mind, one of Tommen's own habits she found herself adopting. Though a habit that was not useful in this exact moment as there was still much that needed to be done before they could set off for King's Landing.

"I did dearest, You needn't fret over all that, I've looked over the gifts thrice now all is in place. I also had the servants pack Tobiah's favorite riding clothes alongside appropriate attire for court, I have no doubt you two will wish to ride while preperations are made." Riding was the favorite activity of the brothers after all, it was what had brought them back together after Tobiah had that terrible fall of his. It was one of the few things in life Tobiah was known to truly love, aside from his now bride-to-be of course.

It had been something of a surprise at first, to hear Tommen say he had watched his brother fall in love at first sight with the princess. It seemed so out of character for the man who always throught every action through thrice before commiting to it, who never made any decision lightly, not before or after his fall. But as Tobiah began to ask more and more questions about the princess, house Targaryen as a whole and house Thornwood's ties to the royal House, well it became clear enough that Tommen had been right to say what he saw.

Elinor's idea to have Tobiah be presented at Storm's End was well in part to see him find closure on this first summer love of his as she had told Tommen. But another part of her had dared hope, because she knew better than most what a woman of strong character wanted in a man. What Elinor had heard of the princess had remined Elinor greatly of her sister, and in part of herself. It had been Tommen's respect for Elinor that had first drawn her to him after all, and had Elinor not wed Tommen she could have been happy to marry Tobiah, for Thornwood men are a rare breed any woman of strong character would want to wed.

It also came to her attention the sort of lords that would be presented before the princess, certainly the sort that expected a Lady-wife of their own, not to be consort to a ruling queen, as Tobiah had realized quickly enough on his own. Elinor is sure that her good-brother must have pointed this out and done as Elinor had intructed him to, to set himself apart from the others but not to overtly belittle them. She supposed she would soon be able to ask what it was he said or did that drew the princess to him. A daunting idea, that she would be a good-sister to the princess.

"Thank you Elinor, I would be flailing about in a panic if you weren't here. Glad as I am that Tobiah has managed to woo his first true love I cannot say I am glad for the rush we are in because of it. Though I suppose one can hardly say no when the princess of the realm desires to bring you to King's Landing post haste to meet the king." It was true that Tommen had taken the news in stride, even if he did toss and turn at night pondering over the implications of the match.

Elinor's husband hadn't reacted all that well when the first raven came in, a letter from Tobiah explaining that he was to take a ship with the princess back to King's Landing to be presented to the king as princess Rhaenyra's chosen, that half his party would be returning without him. Tommen had half wondered if his brother had gone mad, if the fall had done even more damage than first expected... Then the official raven signed by the princess herself and with the seal of House Targaryen arrived. Since then the keep has decended into a flurry of action.

"Then we have another reason to thank the gods for my being here with you. Now off with you, you still need to change into riding leathers. We must depart within the hour should we arrive when we said we would." Luckily it would not take long for the last of the luggage to be loaded, the last preperations of the most important items had been done either yesterday or now in the first rising light. The gifts would be with Elinor in the wheelhouse, and Tommen would ride his finest horse, bringing Tobiah's favored steed with him.

"Of course, riding leathers, I do need to be wearing those. But before I go I do believe I have a reminder to issue. Should you feel anything at all is amiss, do not hesitate to call us to a halt. I will not risk you or the babe's health simply to be on time, and neither would Tobiah." Were Elinor a younger woman that reminder may have been a needed thing, but Elinor wasn't a girl of six and ten anymore. Elinor was old enough to know it was better to be cautious with one's health than to care for appearances, especially as this pregancy had taken so long to come about.

"The Maester has provided me with plenty of herbs and creams to ease the discomforts of travel, so there should be litte reason for us to stop. But should something arise I will say so, no need to fret about me dearest. Now go, we may be allowed to be late for the sake of health, but not because you forgot you needed riding leathers to ride." With that Elinor placed a kiss on Tommen's cheek before shooing him away with the motion of her hand.

Indeed within the hour the Thornwood party would leave the keep, making for King's landing and the event that would take their house from being a forgotten supporter to being in the center stage of Westerosi politics.

Notes:

I'm alive, but man does it not feel like it. My health has taken on a bad turn, the mystery chronic illness I've somewhat recently come down with worsening again and leaving me feeling like a slug of a human being. I'm finally free of the hospital, at least until my CAT scan in June. Safe to say I won't be able to keep the daily updates I started with and intended to keep with, but I will be trying to post at minimum a chapter a week as I also want to try taking up a LOTR fic to avoid burning out on this fic. Alas I can't promise quality, being contantly in pain and nauseous makes writing hard.

Anyways, leave a comment on what you think of the chapter below! Interaction keeps me going with writing even when I feel like a slug.

Chapter 6: Tobiah Thornwood: Seeds that are sown

Summary:

Tobiah plants his first seeds and prepares to tend and watch them grow.

Tobiah Thornwood stared at his reflection in the mirror before him, a luxury here in Westeros, though it looked horribly unclear and old compared to what he had been used to. But it was clear enough for him to make out those features that were far too familiar but never his, not until now. Because staring back at him was not the face he remembered to be his in years past but rather that of his once half-brother who in youth was often mistaken as his twin.

When he was young Tobiah and his half brother Skyler were often mistaken as twins, or at least until puberty began and the differences between then began to become clear. It had been those changes that had forced Tobiah to accept the truth he had long known but never admitted to being true. After Tobiah transitioned the resemblences between him and Skyler began to return. Aside from a two year stint of weight gain from medications Tobiah was truly just a 2 inch shorter and year younger version of Skyler... from a distance.

But all those differences were gone now, and the joke that had existed among the 20+ half siblings that Tobiah and Skyler had been a copy-paste of each other in opposite biological sexes, well it seemed all too much the truth. The two really had been nigh identical, owed also to Tobiah already quite masucline traits, including rather broad and strong shoulders that Tobiah had always been proud of. And Tobiah should have been happy, he was finally the man he was meant to be, but it didn't feel that way, not when he saw Skyler's face staring back at him. Not when he was now just Skyler with violet eyes and a big blond streak in his hair.

And maybe it shouldn't have been such a big deal, really the only difference between Tobiah and Skyler had been height, slightly softer features and central heterochromia that was now nowhere to be seen... But Tobiah had liked those features. He didn't need to be a bit over 5'10, he didn't need to have a slightly too square jaw and prominent adams apple. He had been happy with his masculine but still softer features that highlighted his northern native American blood. He had never had a problem with being 5'8, he made up for it with a sturdy build that helped him plenty with stable hand work. And he certainly liked his eyes the way they were before, his new eyes were too bright and odd. So many would have killed for the chance Tobiah had been given, to be handed a body perfectly suited to him on a silver platter, and yet here Tobiah was missing the man he was, the man he had hand crafted and worked to become himself.

"Lord Tobiah, we shall be nearing King's Landing within the hour, are you ready to join the princess on the deck and begin preperations for docking?" The sound of Dale's voice brought Tobiah back to the present, not a world away where Tobiah Thorwood had oh so many half siblings and a mare with a young foal to take care of instead of a single brother and many of Westeros' best steeds at hand but no horse of his own to groom with his own hands.

"Of course, just doing one last check to make sure I look at least half presentable. It will be good to be back on solid ground." And with that Tobiah slipped back into the feelings and mindset of the present instead of dwelling on the past, and he could only thank his natural ability to compartmentalize. He would take the time later to unpack how he was feeling and why, he had a duty to do now, one that could change Westeros in ways no one else would ever know or be able to guess.

Making his way out of the ship tower to the deck Tobiah could see Criston being adressed by the first mate before the King's Guard truned to make for Rhaenyra. With a steadying breath Tobiah put an easy smile on his face and walked his way towards Rhaenyra and Criston, just in time to heard the end of Criston telling Rhaenyra the same message Tobiah had just recieved earlier. Which meant it was go time, time to plant some seeds and change the foundations of what would be one of the most damaging incidents to Rhaenyra's cause.

Rheanyra had just enough time to greet Tobiah before the cue he was waiting for arrived, the whistling tone of Caraxes call. It was far more eerier in person, and left Tobiah with a feeling he could not quite place. For a second he too stood frozen and curious as everyone else present before Criston's warning made him remember where he was and what his job now was. Daemon did not realize it, but this one stunt of his alone would allow Tobiah to plant the seed of doubt that was needed for Rhaenyra to keep him at arms length. Tobiah did not want to make an enemy of Daemon, but he did not want the Rogue Prince too deep within their inner circle either.

As though he had practiced the motion he wrapped Rhaenyra into his arms to shield her as Caraxes flew over the sails and knocked the ship, causing everyone to stumble. In another timeline Rheanyra would have simply struck her head on the bulwark of the ship, instead Tobiah got a knock to the back of his shoulder, his chest and shoulder cusioning Rhaenyra from the impact. Criston was quick to call to Rhaenyra before realizing that she remained unharmed, the still and perhaps to be always loyal King's Guard turning his attention to Tobiah, to adress him.

"Are you well Lord Tobiah? You struck the bulwark with some force." Tobiah found himself slightly surprised by the seemingly genuine concern in Criston's words, the first real sign that the King's Guard had any kind of positive regard for Tobiah he had seen yet. The two had had a bit of an awkward dynamic. Tobiah was still unsure of how Criston would develope now that the course of his relationship with Rhaenyra had been changed, and Criston being unsure of how to treat Tobiah as Rhaenyra's future husband and if he actually approved of him or not. Or at least that's what Tobiah had gathered, Criston wasn't very good at lying or hiding his feelings.

"Better my shoulder than Rhaeyra's head, I can't imagine such an impact would have lead to anything good if personal experience is anythin to go off of. Luckily it'll be nothing but a nasty bruise and a short bit of soreness. Though I do hope prince Daemon isn't one to pull such stunts too often or I might find myself covered in more bruises than regular flesh." Tobiah put a little mirth in his voice and a smile on his lips, but did not put full effort into convincing anyone that they were real, he wanted them to guess that he was indeed actually in some pain and worried.

And he was in pain, the act of pulling Rhaenyra to shield her had put a little more force into their fall, so instead of just a mildly bruising knock it actually left him feeling a little numb, which may have also been because he landed on the shoulder itself, which is never a place to land. At least foreheads have some of the strongest bone in the body, shoulder not so much, but it was worth it. If for no other reason than to paint Daemon as just a bit dangerous and unreliable, even if in an untintentional way, which was an impression Tobiah could very much work with.

"Not in such a fashion no, at least not when I last knew him. Though I am sure he meant no harm, it was a simple jest... I think." That last part was tacked on as Tobiah rolled his shoulder and reached to feel it, as though testing if it really was only going to bruise. Tobiah did feel his shirt stick to a small part of his shirt and nearly hissed in pain, realizing a bit of skin must have torn from the odd angle of the fall and was bleeding just a bit. That was fine by him, he could use that later.

"Yes, let us be optimistic and say it was a well meant jest. He must have seen the sigil on the sail and thought to play a little joke before he returned to King's Landing. They do say distance makes the heart grow fonder, mayhaps his time away at war has changed him some and reminded him of the importance of family and taking joy in the love of kin." Tobiah this time did make his smile and mirth seem genuine, as though he actually thought Daemon could have changed for the better.

But his words had the intended effect, because it seemed that Rhaenyra was reminded of why Daemon left in the first place. Four years is a long time for old wounds to begin to close, for things to be forgotten. But bringing up that Daemon might have to be reminded of such a thing, it clearly brought back that moment, of hearing that Daemon had toasted to 'the heir for a day', of Daemon stealing away with little Baelon's egg.

For the better Tobiah thought, he did not trust Daemon. The man had no genuine respect for Rhaenyra and Tobiah could not say with full certainty that the Rogue Prince didn't have any intentions for the throne. If he proved to be true Tobiah could always 'warm up' to him later on, but for now keeping Daemon at arm's length was for the best... At very least until the wedding and no adventures in King's Landing could be had.

Notes:

After this chapter tomorrow I'll be going back to fix as many spelling mistakes I can find and fixing little mistakes in writing I made due to pain meds that messed with the flow between chapters a bit.

But editing to be done aside, I'm curious as to what you guys thought of this chapter. As you all know I appreciate Kudos and especially comments, they keep me going despite the nausea and pain.

Chapter 7: Rhaenyra Targaryen: Before throne and crown

Summary:

Rhaenyra and Tobiah arrive in King's Landing on time to see Daemon's return and she certainly has some feelings on the matter.

Rhaenyra found herself surrounded by the lords and ladies of the court, all whispering amongst each other as they filed their way into the throne room. The man she had chosen as her husband-to-be right behind her, though keeping a respectful distance between them, as he had done through their entire journey together. Rhaenyra found that their time on the ship had soothed any doubts she had in her choice. Tobiah had been respectful and gallant, pleasant to spend time with and not lacking in charms. Now the only thing to do was to present him to her father... After Daemon makes his entrance of course.

Rhaenyra could not deny that she felt conflicted about Daemon's return. The manner in which he had left, and his little jape with the ship upon his return left a sour taste in her mouth. But she also couldn't deny that she had missed having her uncle around, had worn the necklace he had gifted her more than any other. But she wasn't wearing that necklace now, she was wearing one Tobiah had gifted her, a small token of his admiration he had called it. She found she rather liked it, even finding herself running her fingers over it as she took place in the gathered crowd.

She dared not approach the head of the crowd yet, not when her father likely hadn't heard Criston's report on why exactly Rhaenyra had cancelled the rest of the tour yet. The raven sent to announce their return had been short and sent before Rhaenyra had actually accepted Tobiah's proposal and invited him to join the party returning to King's Landing, so carried no news of Rhaenyra's choice. She worried her father may be under the impression she had simply cancelled the tour without finding a husband, and would be angry with her for it.

"Chin up, he'll be rounding the corner in a moment, I wouldn't do to miss your uncle's grand entrance because you were lost in thought. Just know if you wish to advance through the crowd at any point I'll be following behind, just do as feels right in the moment. You can worry about who might think what later." Tobiah's voice drew her back to the present, where the whispering had died down and the sound of footsteps down the hall could be heard.

Turning to face the large open doors Rhaenyra held her breath for a moment until Daemon rounded the corner, twirling what looked to be either a war-pick or hammer in his hand. Daemon swaggered his way down the steps, armor clinking as a crown of what looked like driftwood caught caught Rhaenyra's eye as it rested atop her uncle's head. And as he walked past her Rhaenyra did indeed feel the pull to follow him and advance through the crowd.

Rhaenyra found herself walking with increasing speed through the crowd, and just as promised Tobiah kept pace, putting an arm past her to clear the way before her so she did not collide with anyone while she looked at her uncle who drew ever closer to the throne. The sound of sword being drawn made Rhaenyra's focus resharpen before she found herself behind the front line of the crowd, Tobiah at her back as her uncle stepped towards the sword pointed at his breast.

"Add it to the chair." Daemon said as he dropped the weapon in his hand to the ground. Ser Harrold pulled back his blade and with the nod of approval from Otto Hightower he sheated his sword and bent to grab the pick from where it had fallen. Perhaps when she was younger she would have found it amusing, but seeing Daemon make Harrold all but bow, as he wore a crown in her father's court. Something about it did not sit well with Rhaenyra.

"You wear a crown. Do you also call yourself 'King'?" Her father asked, sending whispers through the gathered court once more. But as her uncle began his explaination Rhaenyra could not find in in herself to care for it. Even as Daemon knelt before her father she could not help but feel it was not enough, he offered his driftwood crown and those troublesome Stepstones, but Rhaenyra did not hear Daemon offer an apology for what he had said and done.

She did not hear even mention of it as her father accepted the crown her uncle had come in wearing and bid him to rise. In that moment Rhaenyra realize two very important things. The first that her father would forgive near on anything once his anger had settled, even the toasting of his son's death. And secondly, that her uncle would rather kneel and offer up a crown than ever admit he had done anything wrong.

As Rhaenyra joined the court in clapping and heard her father say that the realm owed Daemon a great debt she could not stop the slight frown that made it's way to her features. But clearly she was not the only one, because she she looked to Tobiah she saw a very similar expression on his own face. His brows furrowed and his lips pulled into a thin line, and when their gazes met it was clear they understood one another. Any optimism they had held for Daemon's return was starting to sour.

As the gathered court slowly made their way out of the throne room Rhaenyra found herself lingering, She knew she would have to return to her chambers to change out of the coat and outergown she had been wearing for the Luncheon, which she was sure her father would request to be grander than the usual affair to celebrate Daemon's return if his reaction was anything to go off of. And she would have to see to it that a set of chambers was set aside for Tobiah, but for now she lingered before the behemoth of molten swords that was the throne.

"Well, it seems your father and uncle intend to continue on as though nothing has happened. I suppose it's up to you now if you want the same or if you want something else. Either way I will follow your lead." Rhaenyra felt Tobiah's words confirm everything she already knew to be true. Her father and uncle would rather pretend that nothing had happened at all rather than confront the fact that a wrong had been done.

"I know you will, and for it I am grateful. But we need to have you present before my father before we can concern ourselves with other familial matters. The luncheon will make for a fine place to have you properly introduced to my family." Indeed, Rhaenyra could linger before the throne and ponder her family later, there was a more pressing matter to attend to. Her father likely still hadn't been told of Tobiah, and Rhaenyra wondered if that would happen before the lunsheon or if Criston was now being held back to make his report to Ser Harrold.

"Well then, I suppose we have an entrance to plan. After the show we just witnessed it would be wrong not to add a little flair of dramatics to your own grand return, even if in a more subtle manner." As Tobiah spoke he turned to Rhaenyra with a mirth filled smile that promised mischief. And with that smile Rhaenyra felt some of the tension in her shoulder melt into an odd tightness in the belly as she tried to stop a smile of her own from forming.

She found she quite liked the idea of creating a little show of their own, or at very least creating a bit of drama with the introduction to be made. With the sour taste of what she had watched unfold still lingering on her tongue she could not help but feel just the slightest bit vindictive. She knew her father likely thought she had simply cancelled the tour out of boredom or some other childish reason, she would play into it and make her father feel a fool for the assumption. As for her uncle, she had a few ideas.

"I quite like the sound of that. Come, let us find a set of chambers for you to use for the time being and plan our 'grand entrance." Rhaenyra linked her arm with Tobiah and turned to leave the throne room before her hand dropped to his forearm in a manner more appropriate for him to be 'escorting' her, even if she was the one leading the way. She would have to see to it that Criston didn't get the chance to tell her father of what had happened, not that it would be too hard to convince him to go along with their innocent dramatics.

Rhaenyra couldn't help but feel that this was exactly what she needed to take her mind from the dark places it seemed intent to wander, and she couldn't help but wonder if that was the point.

Notes:

Oh boyo has it been a week, I was planning on doing edits after last chapter but got hit by a bad wave of particularly bad days, so instead I'll be posting this chapter a bit earlier and editing the previous chapters tomorrow.

Obviously in this chapter our girl is looking at things far differently than she would before, and that's not just because Tobiah pointed something out. Rhaenyra has spent a few days on a ship with someone who is showeing unwavering support and planting a few seeds of advice through their conversations. Plus Rhaenyra isn't into the same mindset or position as she was in before. She did what her father asked of her even if he doesn't know it yet, she fixed the 'marriage' issue, and is no longer quite as lonely, which makes a huge impact on how willing she might be to look past Daemon's past actions.

Anyways, I hope you enjoyed the chapter, and if you did be sure to comment, I try to reply to every comment that is reply-able and I love seeing the interaction and hearing your opinions.

Chapter 8: Viserys Targaryen: Eyes of the past

Summary:

Viserys Targaryen Is enjoying a luncheon with his brother and wife when his daughter joins the conversation and turns it on it's head.

Viserys stood under the shade of the weirwood tree with his wife and brother, enjoying a pleasant luncheon with them and a select few other members of the court. Viserys felt quite jolly as he began to regal Alicent with tales of his and Daemon's childhood, his wife laughing along and nodding in interest, clearly enjoying the tales of his and his brother's youth. And what tales they were, tales he had not told or bothered to think on in years now.

But with Daemon back and their family reunited Viserys could not help but feel gladness as he drank from the fine wine he had requested be brought to them and began again to speak of their mother. But it was just then as he spoke of his mother's lack of regard for custom or rules that his daughter who seemed to have all too similar a regard for such things joined them. He had been glad when Rhaenyra had agreed to go find herself a husband, but to see his effort in vetting suitors and arranging a tour for her be squandered so quickly, it had left a bitter taste in his mouth.

As Rhaenyra congratulated Daemon on his victory and Daemon thanked her for it Viserys decided to stay silent. Keeping his silence seemed a good idea as Viserys felt his irritation grow. He had given Rhaenyra a degree of choice even her grandmother Daella hadn't been granted, and she had all but spit on it. Lords would need to be appeased for the insult of expecting to host a princess only for the tour to be cancelled after the first stop, and that doesn't even begin to take into account the many men that had been promised a chance to present themselves that now would not have the chance.

"Perhaps Prince Daemon would like a tour of the gallaries. He hasn't yet seen the tapastries gifted to you by Norvos and Qohor." Alicent broke the slightly tense silence that threatened to settle over them, her offer clearly made to try and be a good hostess. But Viserys mocked her effort and laughed at the idea of Daemon wanting to tour a gallery, not his proudest moment and he would likely apologize for it later, but Viserys just wanted to return to the jovial mood he had been able to enjoy earlier.

"I'd like to see them." Rhaenyra spoke through Viserys and Daemon's laughter and with the sound of her voice the slightest bit of annoyance slipped through Viserys' tone as he replied. "Oh, well then you should not deprieve yourself." Clearly his annoyance was more clear in his voice than he had intended as he could feel both Daemon and Alicent's gaze turn to him in a way it had not been previously. But he could not help his frustration.

"Then I will go enjoy them with the man I have chosen to be my Intented, a shame I could not introduce him during this luncheon as I had hoped. Another time perhaps." As Rhaenyra speaks she lifts her hand and as if on command a young man walks from somwhere behind Viserys to join Rhaenyra, offering his arm to escort her. Viserys' mind races to catch up with everything going on and clearly Daemon and Alicent are undergoing the same.

The young man now at Rhaenyra's side was of a height with Viserys, though if he were not looking him directly in the eyes he would have assumed the young man to be taller. Those eyes in question were one of the brightest pair of violet Viserys had ever seen, but he had seen them before, and without any need for verbal confirmation to know who's son this was. The eyes and streak of blindingly pale hair parted in half and laid agaisnt the rest of his dark locks told Viserys all he knew.

Viserys felt his mind and heart rush through a thousand different thoughts and feelings at once, though confusion was the clearest of all. Rhaenyra had actually chosen a husband, why hadn't Viserys been informed? Had the confussion and chaos of Daemon's return caused a delay in the news being brought to him? Was that why Rhaenyra had cancelled the tour? She had found her husband to be and saw no need to continue on?

Viserys hadn't taken that into account, that a full tour really only worked if Rhaenyra failed or found a husband at her last destination, there hadn't actually been a proper plan set in place for what was to be done if she did find the man she wished to take as her husband. But above that, Viserys felt the slightest bit of guilt, and he knew he would have to apologize to Rhaenyra later for his cold behavior to her based on his own false assumption. Rhaenyra had agreed to the tour after all, it was quite unkind of Viserys to have assumed she had simply squandered it and acted cross with her without any confirmation that this was at all the case.

"Why wait to make introductions when you're both here already, surely the gallery can wait?" Viserys felt a small laugh escape him as he spoke, brought on by disbelief. Because of all the men presented to Rhaenyra, she chose the son of that girl Viserys had all but forgotten playing with in his youth before his brother was old enough to leave the nursery. But seeing those bright violet eyes once more, even if on a different face, brought back all sorts of memories from Viserys' childhood.

"Now's as good a time as any, and it's not as though the tapestries will grow legs and walk away, but the choice is yours." The young man spoke, having the same odd clip to it that the girl from Viserys' memories had, conracting words just a touch too often and casually. The good natured mirth and wit combined with a playful grin directed at Rhaenyra all but confirmed it. This young man was the image of his mother in her youth.

Viserys wasn't sure if Daemon saw the resemblance or not, he was very young when their grandfather and the staff began to make it clear that they were not meant to be treating the girl as family, even if she was family by blood. But even when they drifted apart due to the watchful gaze of their elders, Viserys remembered her being an oft noticed presence at Dragonstone until she eventually married and left to join her husband's household, a resepactable lord and the best match a bastard girl could hope to ask for he had been told.

"I suppose you have a point, no need to do it later if we get it out of the way now." Rhaenyra spoke and Viserys was brought back from his memories to the present as Rhaenyra continued on." Father, Alicent, Uncle. May I introduce to you the man I have chosen to be my husband, Lord Tobiah Thornwood. Tobiah's elder brother is the ruling lord of house Thornwood. They supply our house and it's retairners the vast majority of it's horses, which they have done since they first supplied Aegon the Conquerer and his army with horses for the conquest."

As Rhaenyra made the introduction it was clear from her tone and the slight smirk on her face that she was proud of her choice, and if Viserys had to guess it was not just because Tobiah was from a respectable house with a long history with house Targayren. Viserys wasn't blind, he had spent years at court, he could tell the difference between a couple who only put on a face of fondness between them and a couple that genuinely had fondness between them.

"Ah yes, the Thornwood's of Woodward. Lord Beesbury often says your house is one of the few that offers fair prices and a guarentee of quality. We refuse to use any horse that isn't a Thornwood Ebony for our wheelhouses, they are some of the few that have both the character and the looks fitting for the royal wheelhouses." Viserys fell easily into his adressing of his good-son to be, his resemblace to his mother making it feel as though Viserys were speaking with an old friend.

"House Thornwood is always happy to hear that house Targayen remains pleased with the horses we provide. Plenty of the finest of this new generation will of course be provided to house Targayren free of charge this year, a gift between houses now that we are to be tied by marriage in an official manner." Viserys could not help but feel bittersweet about that. Because while they shared blood they were not officially kin, not when Tobiah's mother was a 'Dragonseed' as the common folk called Targayren bastards.

Still, Viserys was glad that Rhaenyra had chosen well. The fact that Tobiah was the second son and brother to the ruling lord would also make succession far simpler, he may even be convinced to allow his children to take the Targayren name. The man himself also seemed a good choice in and of himself if what little he had seen was to go by. He clearly followed Rhaenyra's lead without being a meek or weak man. Viserys could see how Rhaenyra would take a liking to him, and Viserys could see how they might be a good match for each other.

Yes, Viserys could see this being a very good thing. So long as all continued on as it was now then all would be well, and Viserys would be able to rest easy with his family reunited and a new good-soon to be to add to the household.

Notes:

Ok... I know I keep promising edits, but every time I sit down to do it my brain goes fuzzy and I feel the dread of the deepest abyss claim my soul... So I'm going to have my friend make the edits every 10 chapters so he can just knock them all out at once, the man works best when he's got a lot to do so it works for the both of us. So once chapter 10 goes up expect a flurry of chapters being marked as 'posted' because they're being edited by the big man who wishes to remain hidden in the shadows because Lord forbid his name be on my shitty fanfic.

Anyways, this is just part 1 of 'le grand entrance', the family luncheon arc, the next chapter will have the shit eating grins and Rhaenyra's plan put into action. The epic walk in will happen during the feast I hinted at. Daemon hijacked what should have been their moment so they're gonna hijakc what should be Daemon's moment... Also who saw 'Viserys knows Tobiah's mother' coming. Because I'm curious how many picked up on the clues I left.

Anyways, I hope you all enjoyed the chapter, if you did be sure to comment your thoughts, predictions, questions or the like. Interaction keep me going even when my stomach decides to stop doing it's job.

Chapter 9: Alicent Hightower: A stray wind

Summary:

Alicent watches the introduction of Rhaenyra's intended turn to a spar of words and sharp glances.

(Basically Alicent watchs SI and Rhaenyra make a soft start of their reign of terror and cheers silently from the sidelines.)

Alicent felt herself sigh in relief, for one of the most recent sources of tension within the keep had been solved, and if Viserys' reaction was anything to go off of then Rhaenyra had chosen well. And Alicent could not find any fault in Rhaenyra's choice by the little she had seen of him. He was not lacking in handsomeness and was quite the striking man, and apparently came from a respectable house that had a close history with House Targaryen. But most importantly, Rhaenyra seemed to like him and they seemed to compliment each other well.

"Well I suppose the sudden return of prince Daemon and the excitement surrounding it lead to the news not reaching you beforehand. Perhaps we should have seen to it that a servant delivered the news before our arrival, I would hate for my first impression to be one to cause shock." Lord Tobiah spoke with the sort of light tone that would indicate mirth, and he did seem genuinely jovial... But Alicent grew up in court, and knew a subtle jab when she saw one.

The question was, who was the jab meant for? Based by Rhaenyra's reaction, or rather a lack there-of she knew well enough that this was going to happen, which may have been a clue. Rhaenyra may have felt robbed of her oppurtunity to shine in showing off the man she had chosen of her own will, she may had asked Lord Tobiah to make note of Daemon's sudden arrival. But the second part sounded slightly more like it could be directed at the King. Either way it was clearly under the instruction of or at least with the permission of Rhaenyra.

"You could not have known that the news had not yet reached us, I myself am surprised that I did not hear of it sooner." If Viserys saw the subtle jab for what it was he did not let it show, seeming quite eager to recreate a jovial atmosphere despite his earlier words having done much to have destroyed it in the first place. Or at least for Rhaenyra and Alicent he had, but that was always the way, what did the joy of women mean compared to that of men.

"Still we should have seen to it that the news had arrived before us. Clearly it created some undue stress, a lesson in the dangers of assumptions I suppose." Alicent could not stop her brows from lifting for a moment at that comment, but she repressed her reaction quickly. Just as quickly as Rhaenyra surpressed her smile, and with that Alicent knew exactly what sort of game was at play. And maybe if she did not still feel slighted she would step in, but she did still feel slighted.

So instead Alicent watched as Viserys failed to find a response for a moment as he processed the jab at Viserys own treatment of Rhaenyra just before Lord Tobiah joined the conversation. Viserys may be King but even he could overlook things, that was why he had Alicent's father after all. And what's more, Alicent found that his laughing at her attempts to keep the mood light was inappropriate, a small subtle rebuffing of his actions was well in order... So long as Lord Tobiah did not cross any lines.

"We cannot be blamed for it, not when we had others matters to attend to. It is a shame your coat got blood on it, you looked quite fetching in it." This time Rhaenyra spoke, and Alicent made no attempt to hide her reaction. What on earth could have happened for blood to be on anyone's coat? Alicent wanted to ask Rhaenyra what had happened and if she was well, but Lord Tobiah continued to spoke before Alicent got the chance.

"It was only a coat, those can be replaced. I'll take a small wound on the shoulder and a lightly stained coat over you getting hurt any day." Oh, the plot thickens! Alicent could not help but feel as though she were a girl again, reading those stories of brave knights and damsels in distress. The ease with which Rhaenyra and her intended spoke of it told Alicent that it was not a matter of massive concern, that this was part of their little production, but clearly Viserys had not clued into those clues as Alicent had.

To be fair, it did not seem anyone else had, except maybe prince Daemon, but that was up for debate. Many of the courtiers that had been holding conversations of their own had turned to observe the new royal couple and to try and overhear what was being said. And clearly everyone was invested, wanting to know more. Viserys himself looked more concerned than anything, though that was to be expected, his dauhter had apparently faced some peril.

"Lord Tobiah, you did not mention that you were injured, how did this come to pass? I was not informed of any incident that could have lead to injury." Viserys was as transparent as Myrish glass with his concern, not that Alicent could blame him. He had not yet picked up on the little play going on, did not realize that it was not so serious a matter. At least Alicent was fairly sure it was not a serious matter. Thinking on it now, what Rhaenyra may deem a serious incident may be far different from what Viserys and Alicent did.

"Twas nothing particularly noteworthy, a stay red wind caught the sails of the ship and knocked us and every one and thing aboard about. I was lucky to have caught Rhaenyra and cushioned her head from hitting the bulwark. Honestly I only thought my injury to be a forming bruise until Rhaenyra noticed a spot of blood coming through one of the panels of my coat." As Lord Tobiah said the words 'stray red wind' his eyes landed on the prince Daemon and stayed there.

This of course lead to everyone else present looking over at Daemon with varying degrees of subtlety, and varying degrees of judgement in their gazes. So that was what this was all about. Rhaenyra felt slighted, knew her father would be cross with her and decided she wanted none of it to go unanswered. And of course how better than to answer than through the words of her husband to be who smiles so charmingly and surely doesn't mean anything by it.

"I see, then I am grateful that you were there to catch her. I will see to it that a Maester prepares a wound plaster for you, see to it that it does not fester." And finally Viserys was awake and aware of the conversation actually taking place. Alicent wondered how long it would take, sometimes he caught on, sometimes he did not, and sometimes he simply ignored it. But now he was making it clear he wanted no grudges to be held or bad blood to develope.

"My thanks, though I do not think it necessary. It wasn't a deep wound and unless the area is re-injured anytime soon it is unlikely to fester. So long as it it left alone it should heal plenty fine on it's own." Alicent took a moment to let her gaze flicker between the two men, clearly feeling the tension, though why it would be there Alicent did not know. It did not seem they knew each other unless they had met before- Of course. Daemon left after speaking those disrespectful words that lead to Rhaenyra being named heir. Viserys may have forgotten, but Rhaenyra was far less forgiving.

It seemed the peaceful days at court were likely to be over soon. Alicent merely hoped it remained entertaining and did not become a problem.

Notes:

Not a chapter I'm very proud of I'm afraid, despite how much I looked forward to writing it. I re-wrote it so many times and just couldn't get it right. As promised this chapter replaces the 'why I'm gone' announcement, and after next chapter the edits will occur.

In other news: I'm going to writing another Fic! This one will be a proper SI in the style of the olden fics, the ones where someone from our world ends up in Westeros. I miss those fics, all the ones I read have been deleted.

Anyways, I hope you enjoyed this very short little chapter, and be sure to comment if you did because now more that ever does interaction keep me going.

Chapter 10: Tommen Thornwood: Ties of blood

Summary:

Tommen arrives in King's landing just in time to get swept up in the chaos of a hastily put together feast.

The Red Keep had descended into chaos. Tommen had not spent all that much time in King's Landing, but he was no stranger to it, and never had he seen the Red Keep or the area of the city surrounding it so busy. It was only by the good fortune of the King having the forsight to make sure the Thornwood party was escorted within the city that they managed to get inside at all. A good half a dozen servants coming in to assist in unloading all that Tommen and Elinor came with.

Once Tommen had barked out to be careful with the gifts they had brought and that they were family heirlooms the servants had been all the more swift but all the more careful in their treatment of their belongings. The Thornwoods were about to be kin to royalty after all, and it would not do for gifts to the royal family to be ruined by house Targayren's own staff. Though Tommen did find himself feeling bad for barking the order out.

"Breath Tommen, the servants of the Keep know what they are doing. Come, let us go see Tobiah and congratulate him before the feast." Elinor's voice grounded Tommen as the Thornwood Lord felt his heart beating in his throat. They had not been told when any feast was to be held but from the state of the place it could be guessed easily enough that the feast had been hastily planned for that very evening.

Tommen did not respond verbally, simply offering his wife his arm and smiling tensely. It was rare but it did happen that in moments of great stress Tommen's words would fail him. Luckily it did not seem to be something that occured during true emergencies, only in occasions of great mounting stress over a long period of some time. Though the fact it was a problem he faced at all ate away at Tommen when he was left alone with his thoughts for too long, one of the many flaws Tommen feared made him unworthy of succeeding his father even three years after having become the Lord of Woodward.

Elinor and Tommen made their way through the part of the Red Keep Tommen was familiar with with ease, barely even looking to make sure they were following the knight sent to escort them to the chambers where Tobiah was staying. Tommen still remembered the first time his father had taken him to King's Landing and the Red Keep, the seat of power of all Westeros, as place so near and yet so far from their humble home of Woodward.

During that first visit he and his father had seemed almost invisible, aside from those times when someone would make eye contact with him and do a double take at his bright purple eyes. Tobiah may have inherited a bright streak of their mother's hair color through his dark locks, but Tommen had the more vibrant eyes out of the two. in low lighting Tobiah's eyes could be mistaken for a particularly dark blue, no such mistake could be made regarding Tommen's eyes.

Now it seemed there wasn't a person in the keep that didn't know who he was. Four lords had stopped him on his way to see his brother, all lords who had overlooked both Tommen and his father before him in the past. But such was the order of things. The Thornwoods were a respectable and stable house, but they were not a great house with any sort of particularly notable history beyond their loyalty to house Targaryen.

"Tommen! Thank the gods you've made it on time!" Tommen whips his head to the side to face the source of that all too familiar voice, it's the only warning he gets before he feels Tobiah all but barrel into him. Tommen's vision is nothing but the dark of Tobiah's hair with a highlight of their mother's color mixed in. It takes a moment for Tommen to hug his brother back, but when he does it's with a near bone crushing strength.

"Tobiah! Indeed, we were lucky to face no trouble on the road." The tension in Tommen's shoulders fades slightly as he takes in the familiar feeling of his brother's hair tickling his nose, a small huff of a laugh escaping him. For all that Tommen was glad for his brother he had been worried the entire time he and his brother had been apart. Worries of whether Tobiah was actually healed enough for the journey, if the rejection would break his brother. But all those worries proved to be unneeded.

As the two pulled away a grin bigger than any Tommen had seen on his brother's face since the passing of their parents was what met him. Tobiah's eyes were bright and alive in a way that had only recently been growing clearer. And for as much as Tommen was glad to see it, he couldn't help but feel guilty. He had sent his brother to be rejected, thought it was to be that way. What right did Tommen have to celebrate the very joy he had sought to crush in a misguided desire to help his brother?

"I can see you over-thinking, Tommen. Come, I think you two need a moment to catch your breath and catch up with me on what's happened." Tobiah did no wait for a reply before throwing his arm around Tommen and leading him and Elinor to what had to be the chambers he had been given to stay in for the time being.

Stepping into the chamber Tobiah had made his own was like stepping into another world compared to what Tommen was used to at Woodward. It was not so overly big and grand, but it was also far finer than even the Lord's chambers in their own family keep. Tommen had seen some of the luxury afforded to the Targaryens of course, but it was oh so different to see such luxury dotted with Tobiah's belongings and knowing his own brother was staying here.

"They certainly seem to be treating you well, though I suppose being the betrothed of the princess herself it is to be expected." Elinor's voice cut through Tommen's wonderment at the fine linens covering the bed, mostly for the fact that they were silk and not linen. It was a level of luxury Tommen could not even imagine, it seemed almost wasteful to him. Was sleeping on silk even comfortable? Well he could always ask.

"I wouldn't say it's expected, but it is certainly a nice upside to it all. Though I do miss having privacy, there never seemed to be a moment where there isn't some servant or guard around here. I imagine it'll only get worse once Rhaenyra and I are actually married." Tommen didn't bother hidding his chuckle at that. There were some who would kill to be treated the way his brother was and here Tobiah was complaining about the lack of privacy. Though to be honest the more Tommen thought of it the more he could imagine that it might be bothersone.

"Well, perhaps you can make use of those ever present servants and guards and see if some wine and cheese can be brought in, we haven't eaten anything aside from some bread to break our fast and the feast is hours off." Tommen wanted to argue against Elinor that it would be rude to ask that of them when they were already so busy with preparing the onviously very rushed feast, but Tobiah had called a servant and made the request before he could do so.

Both Elinor and Tobiah had always had an easier time doing those sorts of things, simply asking for what they want, speaking their minds and not worrying over much on what others would think of them for doing so. But that wasn't to say either of them were rude or demanding, indeed as the wince and cheese came in the both of them thanked the servants for their work, and always Tommen remained silent, simply offering a nod.

"Sit the both of you, I have so much to share and stories are best told and heard sitting down." Tommen could see from the twinkle in Tobiah's eye that he meant to make this a proper 'story-time' as he liked to call it. They likely would find themselves then drawn into a conversation that lasted all too long and lead to them needing to ruch to prepare themselves for the feast. But Tommen could not find it within himself to say no. Not because he had a hard time saying no to Tobiah, but because Tommen had missed his brother and was eager to hear how exactly his brother had wooed a princess.

And so they did just that. They sat and enjoyed their wine and cheese as Tobiah dramatically retold the event of the last week, urging him on with well placed questions. And by the time the sky began to go yellow and pink they had settled into a comfortable flow of conversation. And for a moment it felt like nothing at all had changed, even if come the morrow everything would be different from what it had been before.

Notes:

Hello darlings, I am back after a much needed family vacation and a well celebrated 21st birthday, Regular post shall commence, but not before a whole lost of editing spelling mistakes by my good friend. So if you see any notifs for this fic posting anything before the 1st, know that it's just my friend doing me a huge favor. But wait! There's more!

On the 1st not only will I be dropping a longer than usual chapter, I will also be dropping my 'just for fun' SI fanfic. A fic in the style of the 'witty' SI/OC's of old of a person literally getting dropped into another world, with the twist of me being me, which means me being trans. So keep an eye out for that.

Anyways, as always I hope you enjoyed and if you feel so inclined comments are always welcome.

Chapter 11: Daemon Targaryen: Speeches and feasts

Summary:

Daemon sulks as the feast begins, just taking things in before deciding how much of a menace he's going to be.

Daemon sat at the high table, where he belonged. Well, not quite where he beonged, he was sat not next to his brother but the right of the Hightower chit who sat on Viserys' own right hand. To Viserys' left sat Rhaenyra and the empty seats set aside for her bethrothed and his kin, or at least those who had come to King's Landing on time for the feast. The feast that Viserys had first ordered in honor of Daemon's return, but was now being co-opted by the new royal couple to be.

Some might say it was simply bad luck, that Daemon returned the same day his niece brought her intended to court. And maybe those who said that were right, but Daemon could not help but feel it was a slight. Rhaenyra had taken his title as heir, his island, and now his feast. He could not bring himself to truly resent his niece, she had asked for none of this. But Daemon could not help but feel that she was in some way being used to take all that was meant to be his from him.

No, Daemon could not bring himself to resent Rhaenyra, not truly. He could still remember holding her tiny form in his arms as she cooed up at him, his brother's first born surviving child. A child of good Valyrian stock and breeding, unlike those born to the Hightower chit. But while Daemon could not bring himself to resent Rhaenyra herself, he could resent what she had come to represent. Corlys had said a second son's worth is made, but even the celebration for what he had done was being undercut by his brother and niece.

Even now after winning a war and giving over his crown to Viserys he is seated next to the Hightower chit, not next to his brother where he belongs. That honor goes to Rhaenyra and the man she had chosen to wed, who's arrival they are now all awaiting. With all the expected guests having been announced, arrived and having had the chance to great the royal family, it was now just for the Thornwoods to arrive and for the feast to begin. As as the party in question rounds the corner Daemon prepares himself for the task of enduring the feast best as he can.

“The Lord Tommen Thornwood of Woodward, the Lady Elinor Thornwood of Woodward and Lord Tobiah Thornwood of Woodward, the future King Consort.” With the announcement from Ser Harrold Westerling the house of Thornwood enters the hall where the feast is being held. For a relatively humble house they have dressed themselves well and carry themselves well as they make their way to the high table, their entourage behind them. Though that was to be expected. Born from a bastard or not they did hold recognised Valyrian blood, from house Targaryen itself no less. Of course they would carry themselves with greater grace than the rest of the Andal rabble gathered at court.

The Head of their house, the Lord Thornwnood, lacks the lock of bright Targaryen silver his brother bears, but his eyes are a truer purple. The Lady at his side is rather average in appearance, only the roundness of her belly, heavy with child, is truly notable. And then there is Tobiah, behind and center between them. Of a height with his brother and bearing the most glaringly obvious mark of his bastardized Targaryen blood. It was better than no Valyrian blood at all but only just. Had their mother been just any Dragonseed it would be no better than common Andal blood.

“Be welcome Lord and Lady Thornwood, and you especially my goodson-to-be. Join us and let the feast begin! We have much to celebrate today. Not only is the house Targaryen reunited, it is now soon to grow in number! Let us celebrate victory and love in equal measure!” Viserys’ words washed over the crowd, to be met with cheers and applause. And while Daemon felt at least a little content that his brother had not forgotten him and his victory, Daemon could not help but feel wholly overshadowed.

Rhaenyra’s intended and his brother and goodsister came up to take their places at the high table. Viserys would likely want to give a ‘proper’ speech or a round of toasts, as was his way. After which the dancing would begin, and once they’d all worked up an appetite the food would be brought forth. Daemon knew Viserys’ preferred methods of merriment like the back of his hand. It also helped that such a feasting style would aid in covering up how rushed the preparations were.

No one was going to take notice of the fact that none of the foods were the long braising and endlessly roasted foods that Viserys often indulged in during feasts when they were hungry. It also helped that this was not a feast of the full size one would expect from Viserys, mostly due to it’s short notice, and so was not expected to be at the usual scale. Indeed, if one didn’t know any better they could have been fooled into thinking this feast had been planned.

“Well glad am I to have my brother back at court, to see him alive and well after so long brings me great joy. But to see him bring us victory and safety from the Triarchy bring me a joy and pride I can hardly put into words. So the first toast goes to the Prince Daemon, victor of the Stepstones!” As the court raised their glasses and cried out ‘hail Prince Daemon’ the Targaryen prince could not help but feel his pride being soothed somewhat. He got the first toast of the night, he has not fully being overlooked. Mayhaps there was some truth to the Sea Snake’s words after all.

“And even gladder am I to officially announce the betrothal of my daughter and heir to Lord Tobiah Thornwood! The Thornwoods have long been the forgotten supporters of House Targaryen, even before the conquest. Our houses share a long history and blood, and now shall be united in marriage! The second toast goes to the Princess Rhaenyra and Lord Tobiah for their betrothal!” Daemon raised his glass along with the rest in toasting Rhaenyra and her betrothed, though he did not cheer as some others did. He held nothing against the lord, but that did not mean he liked him either. Actually Daemon was still quite undecided on how he felt about his goodnephew-to-be.

Perhaps over the course of this feast he would come to make up his mind about exactly what he though of this Tobiah Thornwood, or maybe he would find his goodnephew-to-be a man not worth thinking much of at all. Only time would tell.

Notes:

And so it begins! The feast and the start of Rhaenyra and Tobiah's political career so to speak. I've taken to writing my chapters in google docs now to my friend has less work to do at the next ten chapter interval, because apparently I make some truly odd spelling mistakes, so sorry about all that. Hopefully things will be better moving forwards.

But of course there's more news! The other SI I'm writing is going to go up and hour after this chapter (9am Houston time, because that's where my friend lives and be devours these fics). 'Dancing to a new song' will have longer chapters and SI's chapters will be 1st PoV. But it will also come put at more random intervals, meaning i could be on a roll with it for a while and then see no update for a time. This fic will continue to update once a week.

Anyways, I hope you enjoyed this chapter, I hope you check out the new fic, and as always I hope you comment!

Chapter 12: Elinor Thornwood: A silence to be broken

Summary:

Elinor Ponders and speaks with her husband as the court dances below.

Elinor sat at the high table at a feast held by the king, a place she never imagined she would ever sit. But as Tobiah and the Princess Rhaenyra opened the dance before the feast and the court watched on, reality began to set in for Elinor. Her good brother was announced as the betrothed for the heir to the throne, he would be the King Consort one day. The true scale of what was happening had not fully taken hold in Elinor’s mind until that moment, but now that it had she felt she could not escape it even if she wanted to.

House Thornwood would go from the silent supporters everyone forgot to the new Velaryons if all went the way it seemed to be going. As the Velaryons had climbed so high from where they had started it could be reasoned that house Targaryen would need a new close supporting house of middling standing. House Velaryon was too near to the crown now in standing, and no longer so fanatically loyal. It was likely that house Thornwood was to become their counterbalance.

And that was a lot of pressure, more so than the great pressure that Elinor had already felt in rising from a knightly house to a middling lordly house. She was now part of the political landscape of the realm in a true sense. The babe in her belly would be born into a position no Thornwood lord had been born into before. And all because her goodbrother fell in love with a princess and she accepted his affections. Though Elinor was sure some political thinking had gone into the match as well.

“And now you’re the one lost in her head, whatever has you so distracted Elinor?” It was the voice of her Tommen and the feeling of his hand coming to rest over hers that drew Elinor from her thoughts. So engrossed in her musing had she become that she didn’t realize the first dance had ended and others were now making their way to the floor to dance. Of course Elinor had already decided she would sit out the dancing for this feast, she was just a little too far along in her pregnancy to be able to dance comfortably.

“I was just thinking about how different everything is going to be. Our child will not be born into the house Thornwood you and your brother were. No longer the silent supporters of the crown, we will soon be in the thick of it.” She knew that Tommon was an overthinker, that her words might push him to his own mind, but she could not stew in her thoughts alone. Better she thought that they share the burden of these things together, as man and wife ought to do.

“I have thought about it much myself… I always feared that I could never be the man my father was. Only recently have I considered that it may not be a bad thing. The crown is surrounded by many greedy nobles with their own agendas. And while my father and his father before him may have been content to silently support house Targaryen, mayhaps that is not how we can best serve them.” While there was still some unease in her husband’s voice there was more certainty there than Elinor had heard before, and it made her glad.

Long had Tommen lived in the shadow of his father, only her and Tobiah’s efforts bringing him the confidence to be willing to change anything his father had left behind. And while Tobiah’s fall and recovery had changed something within Tommen as well it had not shaken him enough.

“My dearest husband, I’m glad to hear you say it. And you are right. The crown is in need of loyal allies that do not seek their own advancement alone. Perhaps it is time for house Thornwood to step out of the shadows.” Indeed, as Elinor spoke them she herself felt something in her chest shift, and found herself believing those words. Her husband’s house had always been silent and loyal, reliable and steadfast. Now that house Velaryon were so clearly making for their own advancement, it was time for another to take that place they had left empty.

And as Elinor watched Tobiah and the Princess Rhaenyra meet again on the dance floor before being parted by the rhythm of dance she felt herself grow sure of the course ahead. Tobiah was so fine a consort to a ruling queen-to-be as one could ask for. He served his brother well and would serve his wife just as well if not better. He had the mind and instinct for it, and none of the arrogance or entitlement that other men bore. He was as good a pick for the role as house Thornwood was as an ally to the crown.

Her child would not be born into the same house Thornwood her husband had been born into, but that was for the better. Her child would be the cousin to the king some day, and would need to be raised with such station in mind. Now more than ever the Thornwood household would need to live by the loyalty they had always shown. They would need to prepare to enter the dangerous world of court politics in so true a fashion as any, and in more true a fashion than any Thornwood ever has.

If the court was a battlefield then house Thornwood had finally called it’s banners to war. Their silence would be ended.

Notes:

A short but very important chapter, one I hope you enjoyed. As always you're all invited to comment your predictions, questions, opinions or just random thoughts in the comments. with interaction I and this fic thrive!

(Though may I remind people to be kind in the comment and not bigoted, I don't much enjoy deleting comments.)

Chapter 13: Rhaenyra Targaryen: The Good Queen and King-Consort to be.

Summary:

Rhaenyra and Tobiah begin to lay the groundwork for Rhaenyra's accesion, starting with the subtle.

Rhaenyra and Tobiah danced until their feet began to hurt, until most of the others dancers on the floor had returned to their seats and it drew near to the time for the feast proper to begin. To all those observing it was the sign of a young couple desperately in love. In reality they were taking the time to put on a show for the court, for they both knew the importance of appearances and Tobiah had been well clever in devising how best to turn this occasion to Rhaenyra’s benefit.

Rhaenyra appreciated that about Tobiah, that even in his love for her he knew how to be clever and use it to their advantage. Rhaenyra could see that being very useful to them in the future. Rhaenyra did not know if she could ever love him the way he seemed to love her, but she could certainly appreciate him and his company, and she could be very fond of him. It was easy to be fond of him, for he was as easy going as he was clever. Had any other tried to convince Rhaenyra of his idea it likely would not have worked, but because Tobiah had such and easy way about him he did.

The goal of their little production today? They were to present themselves as the new Jaehaerys and Alysanne, the perfect royal couple that would bring a golden age for King’s landing and Westeros as a whole. Usually Rhaenyra would not have bothered with putting on a show for the court, but she found herself liking Tobiah’s idea, harken back to the high days of House Targaryen, and in that harkening bring hope to the court that under her rule things could be just as good. ‘A game of association’ he called it.

“The old lords of the court are already whispering, thanks in part, I assume, to the good work of one Lord Dondarrion.” Right, lord Dondarrion had been ‘recruited’ to help them with their little production for the night. Rhaenyra found herself surprised with how readily he agreed to their little idea, for she assumed that her rejection of him would leave him feeling bitter. But it seemed that Tobiah had done well to smooth over any ill feeling before they could arise, and had even made a friend out of the old lord.

“How did you manage that? Were you two acquainted before you presented yourselves before me?” Rhaenyra could not help her curiosity, for the two seemed to have too good a rapport for two men who met first when both were vying for the hand of one woman, and only one of them succeeded. Rhaenyra imagined it was a situation ripe for breeding some jealousy if nothing else, and yet the two seemed to get on swimmingly, well enough for Tobiah to be confident in his recruiting the Lord Dondarrion to their cause for the night.

“Oh I just helped him with a stuck cart on the way to Storm’s End, warned him you might not take kindly to a man older than your father vying for your hand, and made the effort to be friendly and understanding with the old boy. I’ve found most men appreciate some good natured honesty and integrity above all.” Really? That was all it took, a little help, honesty and effort on his part?

Rhaenyra found it hard to believe that it would be so simple. And she assumed it likely had a lot more to do with the natural magnetism of her husband to be, for he had a way of drawing people to him. Oh she was sure his nature had everything to do with it, for he was the sort of person it seemed who by his very nature would help another lord vying for the same Princess’s hand, give him an honest warning and make the effort to be friendly and understanding with him after. Rhaenyra supposed it was for the best, for she found these days she did not have so much a talent for making friends and allies, much as it was a skill she was sure she would need.

“Only you could make a friend of a man you were competing for the hand of a Princess against. You are certainly a man hard to dislike, something that will serve you well as my consort I am sure.” Tobiah did not respond verbally to her moment, simply opting to shot Rhaenyra a rather cheeky smile that told Rhaenyra that he knew well enough what she meant and fully agreed. Indeed it seemed her Husband to be was all too aware of his easy going charm and was more than willing to use it. Though as opposed to some men who might use it for their own gain he seemed more content to use it for Rhaenyra’s.

“I think we should call it good once this song ends. Act as though we lost track of time then make our way back to the high table. Unless you have something else in mind of course.” Rhaenyra like the sound of that, both the idea and that way Tobiah said it. She liked that he brought forth ideas and plans but always left the last say up to Rhaenyra. It was clear he respected her as the future queen but wasn’t so passive as to be useless. He struck a good balance in Rhaenyra’s mind, useful but not a threat.

Indeed she decided to follow his lead, for Rhaenyra knew a smart man when she saw one and knew that his way of doing things would serve their purposes for tonight best as they could be served. So as the song ended they took a moment to collect their bearings and looked about themselves, as though only just realizing how long they had been dancing. With a bow to each other Tobiah offered his arm to escort Rhaenyra back to the high table, which she took of course. The moment it became clear they intended to retire from the dance floor the rest of the court still dancing made to return to their seats.

It gave Rhaenyra a sense of pride, that the court was following her lead, even if it was in something as simple as deciding when the dancing was over. She knew now that she was to be married she would have to begin taking her duties as the hier more seriously, she would also likely begin ruling Dragonstone in truth. It was a daunting idea, but it was beyond time, and with a man like Tobiah by her side she found that it felt more than possible. No longer did it all seem so far off and unsure. She was the Princess of Dragonstone, she would sit the throne one day, and at her side as her consort would be one Tobiah Thornwood.

As they made it to the high table Tobiah took a moment to ask his Goodsister how she was doing, the Lady Thornwood round with child. Tobiah would be an uncle soon, which meant that when he and Rhaenyra were wed Rhaenyra would become an aunt, and in time she herself would be a mother. If nothing else Rhaenyra was glad her children would likely have the chance to grow up with cousins their own age.

As she and Tobiah took their seats, Rhaenyra at the left hand of her father and Tobiah on her left, she could feel the eyes of the court upon her. Rhaenyra was well enough used to being the Princess and being seen as such, but now she could feel the shift in their perceptions. She could feel the eyes of the court truly take her in and consider her, as though the fact she was to be wed made her more valid as her father’s heir than before. It was frustrating to a certain degree, but she realized it was the way of the world, and she would have to wait until she was Queen to make a new order of things. For now she would have to bide her time.

Notes:

Sorry for taking so long, the recent heatwave really took it out of me, this summer has been brutal! But this next week is heatwave free so the next chapter should be out next friday if not sooner.

Anyways, I hope you enjoyed, and as always be sure to comment and Kudos. And if you want you can check out my other fic 'Dancing to a new song' which is written in the style of the SI's of old, which SI's chapters in the 1st PoV and all.

Chapter 14: Criston Cole: What wasn't partaken in.

Summary:

Criston watches stuff happen but has no idea what, turns out if he's not let in on the plan then he's pretty oblivious all things considered.

Criston Cole watched as the feast proper began. Food so fine as could be made in such short notice was brought out in quantities that were not oft seen even during the relatively frequent feasts held by the king. Despite the short time the cooks had been given to work with it seems they had truly pulled out all the stops to make this a feast worth remembering. Indeed one could hardly tell that it had been made with all they had on hand and without the weeks of preparations that usually went into such grand and important feasts.

Criston held his post behind the feasting royal family and their soon to be new kin, he stood behind the table and to the King’s right, behind Rhaenyra and Lord Tobiah. Ser Harrold was also behind the royal family, to the King’s left and behind the Queen and Prince Daemon. Feasts were always either particularly entertaining or boring to stand guard at, depending in Criston’s mood and the manners of the people attending the feast. Despite what some may assume it was not rowdiness that made for an entertaining feast in Criston’s mind, rather it was the feasts like this one that he enjoyed witnessing.

For all that Criston was still a bit conflicted on the matter of Lord Tobiah and his status as Rhaenyra’s betrothed, he could not deny that the two would make for a fine pair. Even from behind the high table he could hear whispers about them being like the Old King and the Good Queen. Partially by their own efforts, but from up high Criston could see that a few of those at court had begun whispering about it before Lord Dondarrion had set to his little whisper campaign.

The knight of the King’s Guard could not say he liked these political games played through whispers and gossip, but in this case he could understand it to a degree. Rhaenyra was facing an uphill battle as Lord Tobiah had put it, so they were to do all they could to make her accession easier. Part of that was swaying the opinions of the court, and how better to do that then to remind them of the height of Targaryen power and all the good that came with it?

Many in court either only barely remembered the best of the old King’s rule, and most had only heard of it from parents and grandparents, but all knew it was the best Westeros had ever seen. Indeed since the decline of the health of the Good Queen Alysane and later her death King’s Landing had never really returned to it’s height. The Queen Aemma had too often been on bedrest and with child and suffering the consequences of losing so many babes to truly follow in the Good Queen’s footsteps, and the Queen Alicent was too young and unsure of her position.

In that regard many yearned for a return to a past most of them did not fully remember, or had idealized greatly. So seeing this new young royal couple dance the night away, clearly sharing great fondness between them, it gave people hope. While the last few years had seen Rhaenyra’s reputation as the Realm’s Delight waver slightly, most still saw her as the beloved princess, and now the heir to the throne. And now she was marrying a man from a respectable house with Valyrian blood and a growing reputation as a good man.

“Ser Criston! I cannot say I envy your lot to watch while we all feast. Mayhaps we might set aside some fine cuts for you and your sworn brothers to have them kept warm and sent to the White Sword tower once the feast is well and done with?” The voice of Lord Tobiah drew Criston from his thoughts, that voice filled with mirth and good humor. But Criston hadn’t the faintest clue how on earth he was meant to reply. Would accepting be seen as greedy? Would denying the offer be seen as ungrateful? The decision ended up being made by Ser Harrold.

“If the crown sees fit to send the King’s Guard some of what remains after the feast we would not turn it away, but we cannot ask that anything is set aside for us.” Criston admired the tact with with which Ser Harrold spoke, the years he spent in service to the crown showing in moments like this most of all. Where Criston still stumbled over what is best to say and do Ser Harrold is confident and sure.

“Well then it’s good that you didn’t ask, and anyways, what’s left over after the feast is alms for the poor. It wouldn’t do for the most honorable and loyal knights in the realm to accept alms alongside the poor now would it?” For a moment Criston thinks that Lord Thornwood is merely being generous and joyous, but he sees him share a look with Ser Harrold before Rhaenyra nods, which leads Ser Harrold to nod as well. Criston wanted to believe it was simple generosity and honor at play between them, that the interaction was nothing more than that. But Criston could not set aside the feeling that he was missing something here.

Criston could admit that he didn’t much have a mind for the politics and subtle schemes of King’s Landing. He knew they were happening, sometimes he caught on to them when their results became clear, but rarely did he catch on to them before that. Indeed in that regard the life of a knight sworn to protect is best for him, for he knows he would not have the tact his father had as a steward, noticing the double meanings of man’s words and when they meant to make a fool of you through clever words that didn’t mean what you thought they did.

“After all, the crown prizes good service and loyalty above all. How could the most loyal knights of all go without when we all feast? Isn’t that right your Grace?” Finally lord Tobiah turns to the King, who should have been the one to make the call on this matter to begin with. As lord Tobiah leans back to address the King past the back of Rhaenyra the two share a look and once more Criston in convinced he had missed something. When the King smiles in turn Criston cannot shake the feeling that something important has just happened, but Criston does not know what.

Indeed Criston thought, he was a man best suited to being a knight and protector, for he had no mind for politics and the dance of words that took place in the King’s court.

Notes:

So, guess who just got a Steamdeck and can finally play vidyagames with his friends. That's right, the guy who missed a week's update is who. Honestly I'm considering ditching the update schedule and just going 'It get's updated when it gets updated' because life is getting busy again, though in a good way this time. But that's still yet to be decided.

Anyways, as always I hope you liked this chapter, be sure to comment your thoughts, opinons, predictions and questions, seeing notifs in my inbox reminds me I have a fic to write.

Chapter 15: Alicent Hightower: Woman, Wife, Mother

Summary:

Alicent was prepared for Daemon being a petty bitch, she didn't think he would be THAT overt with the pettiness though... Luckily Alicent has had just about enough and as it's always easier to defend another than oneself she speaks up.

Alicent found herself shifting in her seat, unused to having the prince Daemon seated to her right. She could not say she had ever particularly like the infamous ‘Rogue Prince’ though she had not disliked him despite her father’s thoughts on the man. But that was before, before everything had happened. Now she was his goodsister, now she was the mother of all but the eldest of his brother’s children. One would think that would change things for the better, but they clearly had not. She could tell by the way he looked at her that he held no respect for her, that he looked down on her.

The fact his reckless actions had nearly lead to Rhaenyra getting hurt and Lord Tobiah to injure his shoulder, well even if it was only minor it did not sit well with her. Of course Alicent was not so taken in by the tale Rhaenyra and her husband to be were spinning, but that did not change the fact that Daemon had indeed had his dragon swoop to the sails of the ship used by the royal family themselves. He knew very well what he was doing, and worse yet, it could have been her and Viserys on that ship and Daemon would not have known.

Maybe that was why Alicent had agreed to the little plan made by Rhaenyra and Tobiah should Daemon decide to be petty and mention the nature of the late lady Thornwood’s birth. Alicent did not at the time think it likely, but as the feast wore on and she observed Daemon more closely she began to wonder if Rhaenyra had not been spot on in her prediction of what Daemon might do. Alicent was no fool, and she could well enough see from the way Daemon held himself as the Princess and Lord Tobiah Thornwood danced the start of the feast away that he was little pleased by all the attention and talk focused on the young couple.

Alicent knew that Daemon was a prideful man, and that he could be incredibly petty. Now that she saw how he worked his jaw after Lord Tobiah had addressed the King’s Guards she was sure, that even if he did not make the comment Rhaenyra and Lord Tobiah seemed sure he would, that he would say something less than charitable. And when he did Alicent would do all she could to support her friend, who it seems was finally ready to begin repairing their friendship now that she herself was preparing to step into the role of a wife and soon enough as a mother.

“A fine feast we enjoy this eve, one celebrating much. I propose a toast, to the Lord Thornwood who will soon be my goodnephew. It will be an honor for House Targaryen to count you children amongst our ranks. May your future children inherit all the best of your blood, and let us hope the gods continue to overlook the nature of where you got your Valyrian looks.” Alicent’s eyes flew wide, for she knew that Daemon would be uncharitable, Rhaenyra and Lord Tobiah had warned that he may something about the late lady Thornwood, but never could she have expected this.

Those in the court who knew about the history of house Thrownood and where exactly Tommen and Tobiah Thornwood got their looks from began to whisper, those who did not began to listen to the whispers. Alicent dared a glance to where the Thornwoods sat, and both brothers looked prepared to not only mince words with the Rogue Prince, but to mince Daemon himself… So did the current Lady Thornwood for that matter, which worried Alicent, as she knew from experience that at the height of pregnancy such raised emotions tended to lead to pains.

Maybe it was the fact that Alicent had never truly liked Daemon, maybe it was the fact that his reckless jape had nearly hurt Rhaenyra and did injure her husband to be, and maybe it was because Alicent had had just about enough the overly smug look on Daemon’s face. She rose from her seat, glass in hand. She had agreed to help Rhaenyra and Lord Thornwood, and while they had asked that she simply extol the virtues of the late Lady Thornwood should Daemon question her character, Alicent was not about to allow such an insult to pass. Because Alicent remembered the lady who only rarely visited King’s landing with her lord Husband, who gathered a group of ladies to embroider little flowers on the swaddling clothes they would send out to those who needed them most in the city on behalf of the Good Queen in her last years.

“Better that the Gods do not forget, for Lady Daena Thornwood was a lady of unrivaled virtue. Natural born daughter of house Targaryen or not, there were few as pious and kind as her in the later years of the Good Queen’s court. If true virtue and piety could erase the marring of bastardy then Daena Thornwood would have been a most excellent princess of the realm. I for one still fondly remember her embroidery circles. So a toast to the son of good Lady Daena, and may her Targaryen grandchildren be as pious and virtuous as she was.” There was a defiant tone to Alicent’s voice as she spoke, and for the first time in years now she spoke her mind without concern for how other’s may see her for it.

Mayhaps Alicent found some amount of comfort in this act of rebellion, of speaking well out of turn, words that could even be seen as treason if one truly wanted. For it was on behalf of another woman, who had been good and kind, who had done her duty well and now could not defend her good name from the petty whims of men. A bastard born daughter of house Targaryen she may have been, but Alicent had thought her a perfect example of how faith and piety could elevate even the lowest to being good and honorable people. She would not see the name of a good and pious woman be brought low because one man felt slighted for not being the center of a feast, even if that man was a prince.

“Indeed, a toast to Tobiah Thornwood, my goodson-to-be and son of- of my cousin who I miss dearly. May our grandchildren bear the best of both of us.” As Viserys stood and spoke those words Alicent could not help but feel conflicted. On one hand Viserys had just given her words all the legitimacy they could ask for, he was joining her against his own brother. On the other hand… Alicent felt robbed, like this moment was meant to be hers, her moment in defense of a fellow woman, wife and mother. And Viserys had taken it and made it about him… But Alicent supposed that was something he oft did.

But as Alicent turned to look at the Thornwoods once more she was met with glassy eyes full of gratitude, and a lady heavy with child giving Alicent and approving nod with a grateful smile. Rhaenyra also caught her eye, the princess gave Alicent a nod as well,and mother the words ‘thank you’. Viserys may have taken the moment from her, but the gratitude of those she had helped remained.

Notes:

And so it begins...Oh I'm sorry, did you think Alicent being passive in her first PoV chapter was setting the tone for the rest of the fic? Yeah no that's not going to happen, Alicent is showing her teeth this chapter.

I hope you enjoyed reading this chapter as much as I did writing it, because this one sure was fun. What do you think of this chapter, any thoughts, questions or predictions?

Chapter 16: Viserys Targaryen: Wrongs set right

Summary:

Viserys means well, he really does.

Viserys found himself enjoying the feast, even despite his brother’s rather inappropriate ‘toast’. It reminded Viserys of exactly why he and Daemon had their falling out in the first place, and Viserys could not help but wonder if Daemon truly only cared for his fortune as Viserys had said those years back. He had hoped with Daemon offering him the Step Stones that Daemon was trying to mend the rift between them, but now Viserys had to consider the possibility that he had thought wrong.

But that was a consideration for tomorrow or maybe another day. Today the feast went on, the food was fine and the wine even finer. But even finer than that was the company Viserys kept at his high table. It had been a long time since Viserys had been able to say the high table was filled with more family than not. Of course the Thornwoods were not yet officially his kin, but as he had reminded the realm after his wife had to dutifully defended the good name of his kinswoman, Daena and her sons were still family.

Daena, it was a name he had forced himself to forget after she left Dragonstone, after his grandsire had for a second time made it clear that she was not to be treated as family. Viserys had been made to distance himself from her at a rather young age, and Daemon had never been close to her, though he had hoped Daemon at least remembered her fondly for praying with them for their mother and bringing them little meat pies when they could not bring themselves to leave her door to go to dinner. She was a good woman, she would have made just as fine a princess of the realm as Rhaenys was, were it not for the nature of her birth.

“I would thank you, your Graces. For the kind words regarding our mother and the fond memories you have shared with the court. We have oft been made to feel that it was forbidden to say our mother’s name or make mention of her, despite the fact that she was a woman most pious. I am sure the Queen meant it only as a kindness, but if there were a world where righteousness alone could remove the stain of bastardy then I would like to think she would have earned it.” Viserys was drawn from his thoughts by the voice of his goodson-to-be, Daena’s son who had her eyes.

Indeed, Viserys could not help but agree with the sentiment of his wife and lord Tobiah. Had Viserys not been wed to his beloved Aemma his second pick would have been Daena, bastardy or no she was a woman worth high praise for her virtues. Between the five of her grandchildren that had spent any amount of time on Dragonstone it was Daena that most took after their grandmother Alyssane. He remembered when he was first told he should not treat Daena as family for the nature of her birth, the bitter feeling it brought up within him.

And then it struck him. Was Viserys not King? Viserys had legitimized a bastard of some middling house or other not but a year ago. His grandsire may have insisted upon it that they not treat Daena as family, but he had put nothing into writing. One might say the wrong was righted by Daena’s son marrying Viserys’ daughter and heir, but Viserys did not quite see it so. No, as Viserys stood and motioned for his crown to he handed to him he could not help but think that the wrong must be righted in full.

“Ladies and Lords of the court. My most pious and gracious wife here has made a most excellent point that I had long overlooked. For there is a way that good virtue and piety can erase the stain of bastardy. Used often as little more than a means to keep a line from ending, it is within my power to grant legitimacy to any natural born child claimed by their noble house.” The hall where they held the feast went silent as all turned to hear their king, all with rapt attention as was proper.

“It is my deepest regret that I had not thought to bestow that most deserved honor upon one of the most virtuous women in the realm beside mine own wife. It may be too late to bestow the honor upon her that she may enjoy it, but her children and the realm shall always know her as the princess she was in all but title in her life.” Viserys could see the shock on the faces of many, even some who looked confused by the matter and even a few who looked displeased, but Viserys knew they would all understand in time.

“For the woman who’s pious nature and virtue made her worthy of the title even when her birth did not, I right a wrong long overlooked. I Viserys, first of my name, King of the Andals, First men and the Rhoynar, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm do declare Daena Targaryen to be posthumously legitimized. May she be remembered as a princess of the realm and her children to be of legitimate Targaryen blood!” It took a moment for those gathered to begin their applause, likely shocked by Viserys’ words as this was the first time a Targayren bastard was legitimized. But they did indeed begin their applause, as they should.

Viserys looked to his daughter and the Thornwoods, his nephews, or first cousins once removed rather, but he would gladly call them nephews. Rhaenyra looked positively delighted, while Daena’s own sons seemed to still be in shock. Viserys did not blame them for it, for they were now the sons of a Targaryen princess, and surely it was a great shock to them to be bestowed such an honor in their late mother’s name. Viserys was sure that once they had fully processed it they would be just as glad as Rhaenyra seemed to be.

Indeed as Viserys took his seat once more he could not help but feel rather pleased with himself. He had righted a longstanding wrong. And while he truly mourned that he had not thought to do it before, so he could still treat Daena as his cousin and kin in life, he was glad to have done it at all. And if he were being very pragmatic it would lend greater legitimacy to the children Rhaenyra and Tobiah had, those children then having more Targaryen blood then their aunts and uncles, so there was less chance of any unpleasantness developing within the family due to some misguided idea or other.

Yes, Viserys felt quite pleased with himself. He saw himself as having done a great good today, one that would also serve house Targaryen as a whole.

Notes:

Basically the end of this chapter:
Viserys: "See I did a good!"
Rhaenyra: "OMG we're officially second cousins! It's gonna be a proper Targaryen marriage now!
Tobiah: *Internal panic as all the plans change.*
Tommen: *Internal Panic*

I hope you enjoy this admittedly late chapter, I was in the hospital halfway through writing, but this time with potentially good news.

Anyways, as always I hope you enjoyed the fic, and if you did be sure to comment. I love seeing your guys's opinions, questions, predictions and the like. Interaction keeps the chapters coming even after hospital trips!

Chapter 17: Tobiah Thornwood: Falling down the drain

Summary:

Tobiah is struggling on the inside

If Tobiah had to describe the moment his mother was posthumously legitimized before the gathered court at what was a hastily thrown feast celebrating both Daemon’s return and his and Rhaenyra’s engagement it would be mounting panic. He could all but see his carefully laid plans go down the drain and new ones scramble to take their place. On the surface one wouldn’t be blamed for seeing it as an advantage, but Tobiah saw it for the double edged sword it was.

On one hand it addressed the problem he was facing on how to get him and Tommen a dragon should the need arise without creating a second sowing and all the political ramifications that would come with it. On the other hand came much of the goodwill of the court dying as the Thornwoods would be seen as grasping social climbers. Because friends in Westeros loved to see you succeed but only so far, and his marrying Rhaenyra was already toeing the line.

The only reason Tobiah had managed to maintain the balance of growing influence and keeping the goodwill of the Lords and Ladies of the court was because his marrying Rhaenyra was seen as a move that had it’s drawbacks. The fact my children would bear the name Targaryen and not Thornwood was something that had kept many from seeing house Thornwood as major social climbers, we already had a good relationship with house Targaryen even if it was understated and underused. Now that certainly wouldn’t be seen as the case.

“Your Grace… You honor house Thornwood beyond what we could have ever asked for. But more importantly to us, you honor our mother. She always spoke fondly of her girlhood, prayed that the gifts sent to her from Dragonstone were a sign that she had not been forgotten by her girlhood friends and kin. I pray that from her place within the embrace of the mother who she prayed to each and every day without fail she can know that she was indeed not forgotten.” It was all Tobiah could put together to try and salvage the situation best he could.

Tobiah had always been good at ‘winging it’. For every situation he could talk himself into, he could just as easily talk himself out of it. But that was earth, that was the 21st century. And as he glanced around at the gathered Lords and Ladies he could see that his words didn’t have their intended effect, it seems those present had made up their minds. It was a sinking feeling that Tobiah decided he hated more than anything else. It wasn’t like everyone had turned, far from it, a large portion of the court seemed to still look kindly towards Tobiah and his family. No the problem was that his words didn’t seem to move anyone at all.

It was the oddest of things, for that of all things to bother him so much in this situation. But for someone who had always survived off his ability to be persuasive and move people with his words it felt like the floor falling out from beneath his feet. Flashing memories of the pain inflicted those times he hadn’t managed to talk his way out of a bad situation flashing through his mind as bile rose with the panic creeping up on him. The vision in his right eye wasn’t damaged anymore in this body, but as the panic set in he swore he could see that dreaded dark blurriness return to his vision.

It was Rhaenyra’s hand on his that brought him back to the present, her fingers forcing themselves between his to interlace, forcing him to give up the white knuckle grip he had on the arm of his seat. Her own grip tightening to match his own until he began to relax his hand, which was when she followed suit. Tobiah wasn’t sure why it worked, why it helped but it did.

“I know it must all seem a bit much, but this will be a good thing in the long run, I promise. It will help secure the claim of our children, and my claim through it.” Rhaenyra Kept her voice low as she spoke, trying to reassure Tobiah. It was a rather simple way of looking at things, one that didn’t take into account how bloody complicated human beings were… But it wasn’t overtly wrong in any way, and in that exact moment it was just enough to keep the panic from boiling over.

“In the long run maybe, but the coming days will be filled with a lot of rotten looks and even more rotten whispers. It’ll be a lot of work to salvage this situation.” It was a reasonable concern, his primary concern, but even just whispering it to Rhaenyra made it seem a more manageable thing, like this was something they indeed could turn around. Something about turning it from just a concept in his mind into words whispered aloud made it already seem a more reasonable task ahead of him.

As the feast wore on Tobiah could feel many eyes on him, and not for the reasons he had wanted, he couldn’t help but feel like his efforts were going to waste. So he plastered on so easy going a smile as he could manage and tried to play the part of the charming lord, knowing now more than ever his every action would be scrutinized by all those present.

Notes:

A slightly shorter than average chapter that I did struggle a bit with I will admit, but hopefully ya'll still think it's decent. I'd love to hear your thoughts and what you think will happen moving forwards. Interaction keeps the me writing even when the words refuse to word.

Chapter 18: Corlys Velaryon: Rubbing salt water in the wound

Summary:

Corlys tries to get a very in denial Rhaenys to see the Legitimization of her bastard sister for what he thinks it is.

Corlys Velaryon sat before the hearth of his great hall, the Hall of Nine, a hall built by the wealth gathered on his nine great voyages whose exploits line these walls. Beside him sits his beloved wife, who remains quiet and she reads over the letter. Corlys had already made up on the matter, but he knew such a matter was one that Rhaenys would need a moment to consider. So he waited until she had finished reading it and set it aside.

“It is an insult, that much is clear. An insult you you and your claim, and an insult to our children and our house as a whole. Now that we have proven ourselves able to stand our own without them they fear our growing power and wish to replace us with these bastard’s sons.” Corlys does not bother to mask the vitriol and anger in his words. He had long felt that Rhaenys and he along with his children had been wronged by the great council, and then again by Viserys overlooking their daughter in favor of the Lord Hand’s daughter.

By all the laws of Gods and men it should have been Rhaenys to sit the throne and their son to follow her, but Jaehaerys had long ago made his opinion on the matter of a woman claiming the throne known. Mayhaps it was to secure his own line’s claim, but that threat had long since died by the time of the Great Council. Rhaenys was overlooked in favor of a male heir, but now the current king wants his daughter to sit the throne, and would leverage the claim set aside to see him sit the throne to see it done.

“I know Viserys, he is if nothing else a simple man who loves his family above all. He and Daena were close as children, and while her marriage, his ascension and her following passing may have put distance between them there is no denying that he had always been fond of her. It very well could be that with his daughter choosing Daena’s son that he has decided to make true what he always thought should have been.” Rhaenys has always been one to defend her family, even when they throw insults like this her way. She defended Viserys after he choose the new Queen Alicent over Laena as well.

“And what a coincidence then that doing so undermines your own claim and that of our children and gives it to another, securing his daughter’s ascension in a way that denied to you and put Viserys on the throne. Daena was the elder of the two of you, to make her a legitimate princess of the blood is to make your claim one that is null and void.” It was a point that could not be ignored. Were Daena the daughter of any other then he may have been able to accept it, but it worked too well in the favor of Viserys and Rhaenyra.

That was not to mention the fact that it even if Viserys had truly meant it with such innocent intentions he could not have overlooked the grave insult that making Rhaenys the second of her father’s legitimate children would be. Mayhaps if Rhaenys and their children had passed and that legitimate line were ended would it not be such an insult, but they were all alive and well. To undercut Rhaenys and their children in such a way, it was an insult that could not be ignored. Corlys would not stand for it.

“And mayhaps that was a factor in it all, but not in the way you think it to be. You do not know Viserys as I do, ever since we were children he was always one to see the good of his intentions and actions, never realizing how others would see it. He very likely only saw himself as uplifting his cousin and her children, not how it would lower our standing. I cannot allow myself to believe that Viserys would purposefully do such a thing, not after he had just sent men and ships to aid you and Daemon in the Stepstones.” Rhaenys remained resolute in her stance, in her willingness to believe the best of her cousin.

“Rhaenys, wife, my beloved. Can you not see this for the insult this is, to not only us but to your father and mother as well? Daena may have been a pious and good woman but the nature of her birth cannot be ignored, nor can what her being legitimized in death means for us all. Your father may not have betrayed your mother but she would not have liked to see her husband’s bastard from before their marriage elevated before he daughter.” Corlys knew it was still a sore subject, as the late princess Jocelyn had passed only a month after the late Queen, and despite her age her passing had still impacted Rhaenys greatly.

“My mother held no ill will towards Daena for the nature of her birth, the wedding gift she sent along with that sent by my father speaks well enough of that fact. She did not hold what my father did before they were betrothed against him or the child just as I do not hold what my husband may or may not have done while away at war for near three years.” With that Rhaenys gave Corlys a pointed look that drew him to a silence. And yet it told him that he was close, Rhaenys always made some of her most compelling arguments just before she was convinced.

Mayhaps it had been his error to try and convince her by means of bringing up the matter of bastardy when he had only recently returned from a long three years from home. Rhaenys was not stupid, and knew Corlys likely had not remained completely faithful during those three years, though it had never been spoken aloud. Unlike some Corlys did not use it as an excuse to whore about as some did, but a handful of time he had strayed, he would not deny it if Rhaenys asked.

“And yet you would not stand for it if that husband brought back a bastard and elevated him above your own son- Do not try and use the argument of age here, the point I make remains. It is an insult, one that we cannot ignore. If we ignore this insult now we will never again be seen as a house worthy of true consideration. We will be nothing but the lapdogs of the Targaryen’s to roll over when they ask it and to not defend ourselves and out honor. You may not feel insulted, but what of our children? They are being not only compared to the sons of a bastard before the whole realm, but made to be lesser than them.” Corlys could see his wife’s resolve cracking, could see as she tried to deny it within her mind.

Colrys did not blame her, no one wanted to think their kin would do such a thing to them. But in her shock and perhaps because she had not had the time to truly take it all in she was indeed overlooking just how grave an insult this was. Corlys loved his wife dearly, had been ready to fight a war in her name to see her on the throne if only he had been allowed to. But there were times when she could be too forgiving.

Corlys did not care about the fact Daena had been a bastard, he cared that her legitimization undermined his wife and children, and in that way him as well. History remembered names and claims, and he refused to allow his wife to be remembered as a second daughter that grasped for the throne that wasn’t hers to grasp at. He would not allow his house to be set aside so easily, not after all he had done to elevate his house the way he had. Mayhaps Corlys’ rage was in part fuelled by his pride.

But who could blame him, his house, his wife and his children had just been insulted and cast down by the king, a king who had taken his wife and children’s throne and then overlooked his daughter. Corlys, was wroth.

Notes:

And so it is finally revealed! Daena was indeed Aemon's daughter, concieved before he and Jocelyn were betrothed, if she were alive she would be almost four years Rhaenys' elder. She was concieved in the year leading up to Jocelyn and Aemon's marriage (Think a stag party situation), born not too long after after, Rhaenys was born in the fourth year of their marriage, there's about a three and a half year age gap. That means she was about six or seven when Viserys was born, very much a case of of younger child latching on to an older child, by the time Daemon was born however Daena would be 'entering womanhood' and thus would have reached an age where the leeway she granted in being able to interact with her cousins would be coming to an end.

But what do you think of it all now that the puzzles pieces are put in place? How do you think this will change things going forward?

Chapter 19: Tommen Thornwood: What flows through the veins

Summary:

Daemon is petty, Lord Dondarrion apparently had a loose history with the Thornwoods before Tobiah and Daemon is once again petty... and potentially in danger, you know what they say about the wrath of a kind man.

(Incase the timeline isn't clear, this is a different day than the OG feast, ravens have been sent so relatively close places like Driftmark already have gotten the news. Viserys of course extended the celebration because now it's a triple whammy occasion, This is the second day after the first feast night, things are winding down now. Rhaenys and Corlys got the raven the day after the feast, have their moment, and now Daemon is causing shit just as things are wrapping up.)

Tommen found himself doing what he never envied his father having to do, which was socialize with other lords. It was expected that one was in the capital they took the ‘opportunity’ to catch up with other lords they seldom see or hear from. Triston Thornwood had been known to be a very stern and more reserved man, who preferred actions over words, which did in it’s way offer Tommen some grace. That he may been seen as simply taking after his father and not as the tightly wound ball of worries and fears that he truly was.

If nothing else, Tommen was glad that Tobiah who had to relearn the ways of the court was able to help Tommen sharpen his own skills as well. The Maester had said it was the only benefit of the fall, that Tobiah’s mind, much like that of a child, had the ability to take in new information well. Though when it came to a life at court Tommen could not help but think his brother was simply better suited to it, even if it was not what made him happiest.

Everyone at court may see a witty man filled with mirth and good humor, but Tommen saw the sign of fraying nerves and mounting irritation. Tobiah had a way of spinning words so well he could convince men that his ideas were their own, including the idea to leave him the bloody hell alone. Japes that struck just a bit too close to the heart of a man, but that were so well crafted one could not find it within themselves to take offense. Tobiah had a way of reading the depths of a man’s heart with a glance and knowing what would hurt most, and more importantly, what would sting just slightly.

It was a skill Tommen wish he had. Tommen may have had the better mind for leadership should the need arise, though he was sure Tobiah could rise to the occasion should need be, his verbal graces were not quite to developed. Tommen did not know how to make all offenses taken seem like a blow that did not even glance, let alone how to rebuttal in a way that did not seem overt. Tommen was no fool, he knew what others meant when they spoke, what they truly meant, but he was not so skilled in weaving his own words to defend himself and his pride the way his brother did.

“Indeed I am sure your mother shared many tales with you of her time on Dragonstone. I would be curious to hear a few, as I myself have no recollection of her.” Tommen had been warned by Tobiah that the Prince Daemon may be a problem, but Tommen did not expect the man to make it so personal. The Rogue prince was known as such for a reason, but it seemed he had turned his attention to Tobiah and by extension his kin. The feast had revealed that Prince Daemon was willing to use the memory of their beloved mother to insult them, and this was clearly just and extension of that.

“She did tell us many stories, though she made little mention of you. Though I am sure that is simply a matter of timing and age, you were still very young when she left for Woodward, no more than three or four years of age. Certainly too young to remember and too young to have made much of an impression.” Tommen kept in mind what Tobiah had said about the Prince Daemon, that he was a man that thirsted for recognition and validation above all, that he was a man governed by pride and desire. The way to deal with him was a simple stating of facts in a manner neither intended to offend nor to please. Walk the fine line between frank and flattery.

So far as Tommen could tell it seemed to work well enough. The Lord of house Thornwood could tell Prince Daemon’s smile was one not to be trusted, as his amusement could as easily come from mirth as the decision to inflict harm. A simple huff through the nose before the prince sipped from his cup told Tommen he had hit his mark well. It was a dance Tommen did not find himself much liking being made to dance.

“A shame that the prince does not remember his cousin well, there are many of us who remember the late Princess Daena well. For all of the Good Queen Alysanne’s daughters and granddaughters it was Princess Daena that took after her the most.” It was the lord Dondarrion that spoke up, a new friend of Tobiah’s who was older than their father would have been had he still lived. He pushed his way past some of the gathered lords to insert himself into the conversation.

“So I have oft been told. I am glad she is remembered so fondly and with such grace. My mother truly was a woman amongst women. If I recall correctly she once told me a tale of how a lord of house Dondarrion made a sizable donation to the charitable works she was working on in her grandmother’s stead. I cannot recall if it was you or your father who made the donation, but I do believe it was you who received a piece of embroidery from her in thanks. She oft said how she felt her humble needle work made for a poor thanks for such a charitable act, but it was the best she could at the time.” It was a story Tommen remembered well. He remembered it because he knew how skilled his mother was with her needlework and always found it odd she could ever think it a poor gift of thanks.

Tommen wondered if Tobiah knew, though he found it unlikely. Tommen had done his best to relay as many tales of their mother and father to his brother as he could, but he did miss some. He was glad if nothing else that while the memories were gone Tobiah’s love for their father and especially their mother had not been lost after his fall, even if he did not remember them by face, voice or tale.

Mayhaps it was just luck, that Tobiah had befriended a man, or perhaps his son, that their mother had thought so highly of. Tommen liked to think that the ghost of a memory guided Tobiah to know that Lord Dondarrion was a man who could be trusted to do what was right and could be a good friend. Maybe it was blind hope speaking to him, but Tommen liked to think that even if Tobiah’s mind could not recall those things, his heart could, that his heart recalled the spirit of those memories and acted upon them.

“Was it truly embroidered by her hand? I had always thought it a piece made by a payed master embroiderer to give to any who made donations to the charitable works they oversaw. I had not realized she had made it by her own hand for me. I had kept it all these years as a reminder of a good deed done, I did not know it’s true value. I will treasure it all the more knowing it was a piece made by the Princess Daena herself.” Lord Dondarrion seemed genuinely taken aback by the information that the piece he had received had been done by Tommen’s mother. It did put a small smile on his face, that his mother’s skill had been appreciated for so long and thought to be done by some skilled master. It also pleased him to know he was right about his guess, for it would have been quite awkward if he had been wrong.

“So the late… Princess… was skilled with a needle then was she? A good thing that, had her betrothal to the Thornwoods fallen through she could still become an embroiderer for the royal house. Luckily the bethrothal went well for her, though I would have liked to have the chance to wear something adorned by my cousin’s work.” Tommen felt the world slow as he turned his attention back to the Prince Daemon. His blood burned like the coals of brazier to the left of him and Prince Daemon, who was now the sole focus of Tommen’s attention. Tommen felt his features ‘relax’ into the stony expression his brother and he both rarely wore but knew how to wear all too well.

And for the first time in a long time, Tommen remembered that he too had dragon’s blood burning in him. That his mother who Daemon had just spoken of in a way that made Tommen’s blood boil, was a Targaryen, and he was her son with fire running alongside the blood in his veins.

Notes:

Daemon: "Well I don't remember your mother, guess she wasn't that important!"
Tommen: "You were literally a toddler or at best a pre-schooler, I don't think you remember much of anyone from that age."
*Lord Dondarrion literally pushes his way on to the scene, diverting Tommen's attention, causing Daemon to throw a hissy fit.*
Daemon, throwing a hissy fit: "Your mother should have been a servant and commoner and I wish she was!"
Tommen, doing the slow turn of 'you done fucked up': "Excuse the fuck out of you?"

And that children, was the tale of how everything began to really go to hell in a handbasket... Now do me a favor and comment, thoughts, predictions and questions are always welcome. Tobiah needs interaction to fuel the writing, especially for chapters like this that take double the usual time because of how many gosh darn times it had to be re-written and reworked.

Chapter 20: Steffon Dondarrion:Wills made known

Summary:

Lord Dondarrion is given a name (I know fandoms called him Beric but fuck that) and witnesses shit absolutely go down in the most dramatic of ways.

Notes:

What dod you think I would just miss a week? NOPE! While I struggled with last chapters I was absolutely killing it on this one, so here you have and extra long chapter the very next day. I wanted the last chapter to have it's moment but this one really shines I think.

As always, remember to kudos and comment, interaction keeps me going and I adore hearing from you guy!

Steffon Dondarrion had seen many things in his days. He had battled fiercely against Dornishmen and had just as fiercely battled in the war of ravens when he and his fellow stormlanders rallied to the cause of the Queen who Never Was and her heir during the lead up to the great council. That was all to say, Steffon knew a murderous look when he saw one. He knew the glint in a man’s eye when he was ready to put it all on the line so long as he could taken his enemy down with him… The look in the eyes of the Thornwood brothers was a murderous one, though the fiercer of the two was that of the Lord Thornwood himself.

Everyone knew that an insult to a man’s mother was fighting words that would be answered by any man of worth. And while the particularly dull members of the court may have thought the Rogue Prince’s words a compliment to the late Daena Targaryen nee Thornwood’s skill, all the rest saw it for what it was. And as Tobiah Thornwood moved to stand behind his brother to his right, Steffon knew the Thornwoods would not be stepping down from this fight. Prince or no, Daemon Targaryen had insulted the memory of their late mother to imply it was her place to be a common needlewoman, not a lady let alone a princess.

“Prince Daemon, I have always hated the double speak of court, much like my father before me. So I will be frank with you now… If you ever speak of my mother in such a manner again I will remind you in a way you will never forget that the blood of the dragon runs through mine own veins, and it burns no less hotly for having been borne to me by the recently legitimized Princess Daena- And do not think to deny the meaning of your words earlier. I am no fool, and I hope that contrary to all evidence you aren’t either. You may be used to the lick spittles of the court laughing away insult for the sake of letting you continue your tantrums in peace, but a Thornwood remains Ever Unmoved.” In the speaking of his house words it became clear that Lord Thornwood saw the Rogue Prince’s words as an insult not just to his mother, but to the honor of his house as a whole, which Steffon did not blame him for it.

Still, that did not change the fact that he had all but threatened a prince, where he was just the son of a posthumously legitimized princess. And yet Steffon was sure in that moment that even if the late Daena targaryen had not been legitimized that Lord Thornwood’s own station not been elevated due to that fact she still would have stood his ground as he was doing. For Steffon knew the sort of man the late lord Thornwood had been, and it seemed steadfast integrity was the core trait of Thornwood men.

Steffon still remembered receiving the steeds sent by the late Lord Thornwood for the Third Dornish war, his Father the late Simon Dondarrion even rode one of them into battle while Steffon young as he was at the time remained at Blackhaven. Lord Thornwood himself was also too young to go into battle himself, but had sent many good horses to the cause at prices many would deem downright foolish. Steffon would have to lament the fact he had never taken the time to speak with the late Lord Thornwood, to thank him, nor praise him for the fine young men he had raised. For a man’s honor was worth only as much as he was willing to defend it, and it was clear these two would not allow the honor of their mother nor house to be insulted without answer.

“You dare speak to a prince of the blood as though you are his equal? To threaten him? Just because my brother legitimized your bastard mother doesn’t change the fact that she’s just that, a bastard, and a dead one at that.” And with that the gauntlet had all but been thrown, there would be no going back from this moment. Already Steffon could see some young servant or other go off, likely to warn the king of what was about to happen. Though Steffon doubted that even if all seven of the King’s guard were brought to intervene, it likely would not change what was to come.

“I did not threaten you, I warned you, and you have ignored my warning… Have your squire retrieve your steel, your insults will no go unanswered. May the Gods judge us fairly and make their will known.” Two young men took off as the Lord Thornwood spoke his piece. The line had been draw, the duel issued, there would be no going back now. The Rogue Prince was one of the most skilled swordsmen in Westeros, and freshly returned from the war in the Stepstones. Tommen Thornwood on the other hand was a completely unknown factor. Thornwoods did not like tourney fighting, they did not earn spurs unless earned in battle or through great deeds, that much Steffon had heard from Tobiah.

It was thus unclear who would have the upper hand. Most anyone would put their money on Prince Daemon, even if all could see he was the one in the wrong. Steffon did allow himself the slight hope that the Gods would favor Lord Thornwood, that they would indeed make their will known and that they would turn the tide of the now inevitable duel in his favor. But as the two men stared each other down and awaited the return of the two that had run off to retrieve steel for them Steffon could not help but feel the pragmatist in him prepare to see a good man die today.

“Stop this madness at once! You will stand down by order of your King!” The sound of his Grace’s voice carried over the oddly silent crowd. It seemed the servant that went to retrieve the King had been faster, owing to the fact he had left first, and had brought the King back on time to stop the duel before it began. Steffon was mot sure how he felt in that moment, he was glad not to see a good man die, but he felt it was not right to interrupt such a matter, it was an issue of honor that was meant to be settled between men. A man should have the right to defend his honor, it was an insult to a man to refuse him the right. But this was the King, and a matter of not just his court but his own house and kin.

“Daemon, you dare! I have forgiven you and brought you back to my court with love, yet here you are once again turning upon kin and speaking ill of the dead! Have you learned nothing? What is it in your dark heart that takes such joy in insulting the dead women of our house! Who will be next, our own mother?” The King’s voice went hoarse as he shouted at prince Daemon, and it felt as something Steffon nor any of the other men gathered in the courtyard were meant to hear. And yet as the king spoke Steffon could not help but consider his words, and realize that this was indeed a pattern of behavior for the Rogue Prince, who was only just welcomed back from his banishment brought on my insulting the at the time newly deceased late Queen and late Prince Baelon, whom Prince Daemon had toasted as the ‘heir for a day’.

The Princess Rhaenyra joined her father, her own face painted with a look of fury. Behind her many of the ladies and the older married and less athletically inclined men joined to see what was happening. Before all that had witnessed the beginning of the altercation were the young and unmarried men of the court who gathered to carouse and chat away from the women folk and more tempered minds that discouraged the talk that more martially inclined or younger men tended towards. It was a proper show now, neither man truly willing to stand down, but neither able to disobey their king. Still, Steffon was glad that if nothing else the princess would be spared the sight of her uncle or goodbrother-to-be being killed or grievously wounded.

It seemed the verbal altercation would remain exactly that, no blood to be shed today, at least not here and now. Steffon found himself glad of it even if it did not sit well with him that a matter of a man’s house honor was not properly defended, though by no fault of his own. It felt wrong, though perhaps the softer courtly lords would see it only as the avoiding of bloodshed. But Steffon knew that the Thornwoods were an honorable house that in many ways were more similar to Steffon’s fellow marcher lords than even some other Stormlanders. He would not be satisfied until he had proven the matter, that it had been settled before the Gods.

“Your Grace, I understand that he is your brother, and that it is your utmost duty to uphold and defend the law. But I cannot say I will find myself satisfied until I have been given the chance the defend the honor of my late mother and my house. Only if the will of Gods themselves settle the matter can I say I will be satisfied.” There was a shake in Lord Tommen’s hand before he balled it into a fist so tightly that Steffon worried he would break the skin of his palms. And for a man so clearly enraged as he was Steffon must say he spoke well, not outright defying his king, only making his opinion heard… And it seemed the gods heard it loud and clear.

Steffon wasn’t sure what he heard first, the sound of background chatter turn to panic, the beating of massive leathery wings or the earth shaking roar that sounded. Steffon had heard people scattering further in the keep through the open walkways, but he had thought it that clamor of people ready for a duel within the royal family, not the fact that over the water and back of the Red Keep a dragon had come in and made it’s way to land in a courtyard that could in no way comfortably contain it. The gathered crowd scattered to the ‘safety’ of the covered walkway. All but the Targaryen’s, the Thornwoods and a few men like Steffon who in shock and fear found themselves rooted in place.

For the second largest dragon in Westeros had just landed in the courtyard in the Red Keep, a Dragon Steffon recognised all too well. Steffon had not seen the great beast since the fourth Dornish war, but he recognised the Bronze Fury easily, even as the great beast seemed even more massive than he remembered him. He remembered seeing them from afar and later when they had landed, Vhagar larger, but Vermithor more fierce if memory served, but now Vermithor was the size Vhagar had been at the time, if not bigger. The mount of the Old King now rumbling and growling as he made himself fit in the courtyard, roof tiles sliding and falling, some of the stonework one of his large talons rested on cracking and crumbling slightly beneath the weight of the massive beast.

Tommen Thornwood said he would not be satisfied until the Gods themselves made their will known would he be satisfied. He may have meant by way of a duel and not this, but either way none could deny.

The Gods had just made their will known.

Chapter 21: Rhaenyra Targaryen: Claiming the Bronze Fury

Summary:

Rhaenyra watches Tommen claim Vermithor... That's it, that's the chapter.

Rhaenyra watched in equal parts awe and horror as Vermithor landed within the courtyard where many of the young and unmarried men had gone to to socialize amongst themselves. The massive dragon not at all fitting within the courtyard, one of his legs on the roof of one of the covered walkways that seemed but moments away from collapse. Tiles sliding from their places and shattering, stonework cracking, small pieces crumbling off land landing on the tilework beneath in a fine duct with slivers of red rock mixed in. It was a sight Rhaenyra knew she would never forget so long as she lived.

All present had gone deathly silent, most all fearing that to make a sound was to attract the attention of the Bronze Fury himself. The hulking dragon currently had it’s focus on them, the core group that had not scattered, the group at the center of the conflict that now seemed to die in the face of the second largest dragon alive coming between them. Even behind her father and farthest from Vermithor Rhaenyra could still feel the warm puff of his breath. All were frozen in fear… All but Tobiah and his brother.

Tobiah slowly reached his hand up to place it upon the shoulder of his brother, drawing the Lord Thornwood’s gaze to him. A moment seemed to pass between them, a look Rhaenyra could not quite place, but she knew that between them they spoke without words. Tobiah turned his gaze back to Vermithor and gave his brother’s shoulder a squeeze. Lord Thornwood looked like he was going to move, like he was about to step towards the dragon but he hesitated, his gaze locked on to his brother, who looked back to him upon seeing and feeling his hesitation.

“We both know he isn’t here for me.” It was all her future husband said before giving his brother’s shoulder a small push, urging him to step forward. It likely seemed like madness to all but the Targaryen’s present, that he pushed his brother towards the second largest and by many counts most ferocious dragon Westeros had to offer. But those present with the blood of the dragon knew what was happening.

Rhaenyra’s goodbrother-to-be took a step towards Vermithor, hesitant and slow. Followed by another, and then another. It was a good sign that the Bronze Fury was not growling at Lord Thornwood, not showing signs of ready to breath fire upon him and the rest of those present. But it was not a guarantee, Vermithor could still turn, could still reject the man he had seemingly come to claim himself. One may think that the fact Vermithor had come himself meant that it was all but done, but one could never truly know with dragons. He may have come for a potential bond, but that was not a guarantee of a bond.

“Remember what mother taught us of Valyrian, you must rely on your dragon blood. This is your birthright, he would not be here if it wasn’t. So do not hesitate, but show your respect.” Tobiah kept his voice low and calm, quieter than how he usually spoke. He sounded like he knew what he was doing, but Rhaenyra could tell by the way he was clenching and unclenching his hand that he was nervous. He spoke in a hope of convincing his brother that it would work, giving his brother the courage he would need. No one truly knew what it was that made a bond or did not, there was no foolproof method, but Lord Thornwood did not need to know that at the moment, not until he had succeeded or survived his failure.

“Lykiri Vermithor, Lykiri.” The Lord Thornwood’s voice was tinted the accent of an Andal speaking Valyrian, clearly he and Tobiah did not speak Valyrian much. Rhaenyra could only hope that fact would not stand between her goodbrother-to-be and his claiming of Vermithor. For she could think of no way better for the legitimization of their mother to be truly recognized… Well perhaps if it had been Tobiah that Vermithor had come for, it would surely strengthen their claim and that of the children, for Rhaenyra knew how important a symbol dragons were, and the dragon of the Old King was a powerful symbol indeed.

But indeed it seemed Lord Thornwood had taken heart in his brother’s words, for his posture improved, and his slow steps seemed to lose some of the hesitance within them. A low rumble sounded from Vermithor, but Lord Thornwood did not flinch or retreat. Rhaenyra was sure that if he had it would have been the death of any chance for him to bond with the Bronze Fury. But he had not, he had even taken another step closer, and finally he was close enough to the dragon for his hair to to tussled by every breath Vermithor took. It was now or never.

“Dohaeras Vermithor.” The Lord Thornwood’s voice was clear and strong as he spoke the command, and Rhaenyra could see the confidence and strength that came with a dragon bond fill her goodbrother-to-be as he slowly placed his hand upon the scared snout of the Bronze Fury. A beat of silence passes, Lord Thornwood straightens his back and looks over his shoulder to where Rhaenyra had inched forward to stand beside her intended. Lord Thornwood smiled brightly to his brother, and Rhaenyra could have sworn she saw his eyes go glassy.

“Tommen… Your dragon is damaging the stonework you know? This courtyard is far to small for him, so what are you waiting for? Cement that bond and fly you fool.” Tobiah’s own smile was filled with pride and brotherly affection, as was his voice as he urged his brother to take flight with his new mount, and Rhaenyra offered Tommen a nod as well to encourage him to follow his brother’s advice. Indeed, a first flight was important… And Verithor was indeed ruining the stonework, he definitely needed to be moved to the Dragonpit.

Lord Thornwood, or Tommen as Rhaenyra reminded herself she should get used to calling him, did not need any more encouragement than his brother’s words and Rhaenyra’s smile. He turned to Vermithor and began his first mounting of his newly bonded dragon. For a man who had never climbed atop a dragon before he was not half so clumsy as one would expect in a man trying to get to the saddle of the second largest dragon alive. Though there was still plenty of awkwardness in his movements, but he did indeed make it to the top, and soon settled into the saddle that once seated the Old King.

“Speak Soves to have him fly, and Ninkiot to land, Nopot for him to land in the Drgaonpit! Good luck goodbrother!” It was Rhaenyra’s turn to tell Tommen the commands he was to use, and she felt to her own surprise a swell of pride as she did so. She and Tobiah may not yet have been wed, but she would have no other, Tommen was her goodbrother in her heart now, even if it would take a few moon’s turns before he was in fact her goodbrother. That little technicality did not stop her from feeling immense pride as she heard him call out the command for Vermithor to take flight.

The Stonework cracked further under the force of Vermithor taking off, but those pillars, bricks and tiles could be replaced. The beating of Vermithor’s massive wings as he took off with a new rider, the beloved brother of her intended, that feeling could not be paid for or replaced. As Vermithor slowly lifted off from the courtyard he had awkwardly stuffed himself in Rhaenyra clutched Tobiah’s hand, who squeezed it back in turn, as they both watched Tommen take off in his first flight.

Her father was the first to start a slow clapping as Tommen took off, followed by Lord Dondarrion and then others followed. The court had never before been so present for the claiming and forming of a dragonbond, and never in such a way that so clearly spoke of the will of the gods. Daena Targaryen and her sons were legitimate not only by word of the king, but by the will of the gods, that was a fact no one could deny now. Rhaenyra would wed her cousin once removed, the son of a Targaryen princess, as was appropriate for a princess of the blood and heir to the throne. And maybe in time Tobiah would claim a dragon as well, he certainly had the blood for it.

“A beautiful sight I will never forget, I couldn’t be more proud of my brother if I tried… Now where were we? Oh right, Prince Daemon. You had something to say about my mother did you?” Indeed, her intended had the blood of the dragon. And a dragon’s fury was not easily forgotten, immense pride in a sibling claiming a dragon or not.

Notes:

Hey ho my lovelies! I have ANNOUNCEMENTS!

First of all, my dear friend who volenteered to do the editing every 10 chapters is currently visiting his grandmother so it'll likely be after next chapter that he goes back to do those, sorry they're late, life is life.

SECOND AND MOST IMPORTANT! The second story in the 'Those who deserved better' series will being going up soon! That's right, the Alicent fic will begin soon. Same SI and backstory but in this fic House Thornwood does not exist yet and is founded by SI and Alicent because of plot reasons.

Anyways! I hope you enjoyed this chapter, I most certainly did! As always, be sure to comment and kudos, interaction keeps me going and honestly I just love seeing notifs in my inbox and replying to comments.

Chapter 22: Elinor Thornwood: The surprises that may come

Summary:

Elinor hears her husband is doing wild shit, panics and then panics some more when her first contraction hits her and the back pain settles in at the same time.

Notes:

Ehem... Yeah did ya'll foget that Tommen's heavily pregant wife is also in the picture? I feel like some of ya'll forgot that she's HEAVILY pregant.

Anyways, between tomorrow and Thursday my friend will be slowly combing through the chapters and fixing any mistakes he sees, so if yo see any notifs for updates between Monday and Thursday, no yo didn't it's just the spelling fairy trying to fix my horrible spelling errors.

I hope you enjoyed this chapter, tell me if you say this coming or if you forgot that Elinor was super pregnant and that she absolutely would have at least heard that shit was going down.

Elinor sat in the solar of the apartments provided to her and Tommen for the duration of their stay. Just a moment she had been relaxing while one her ever loyal Rosey helped her remove the adornments she had worn earlier when she had joined her husband and goodbrother for the third day of celebrations. She had retired early for the exhaustion she felt and the pain in her feet, something she would be grateful for in years to come. For Elinor was sure that if she had witnessed what had transpired in the courtyard herself she would have begun her labors then and there from the shock.

Rosey had been in the process of removing the pins from her hair while two servants of the keep fussed over preparing the daybed for her to rest upon when Tommen’s squire had come rushing into the chambers. Elinor had half a mind to have the lad flogged until he had blurted out that the Bronze Fury had landed in the courtyard where the men had gathered and interrupted what was about to be a duel between her beloved Tommen and the rogue prince. The lad had been gathering Tommen’s sword and coming to the scene of the duel to come when the massive dragon had all but forced itself into the courtyard. The lad had allerted many guards as he ran before coming to tell her.

Elinor had thrown caution to the wind, and with only an extra dressing gown thrown on along with her easiest shoes she ran so fast as her sore and swollen feet could carry her. She had arrived just in time to see the Bronze Fury’s form leave line of sight of the courtyard. She watched as he goodbrother turned to the prince Daemon with a cold fury in his eyes, but more importantly to Elinor she did not see her husband. Elinor had no shame in calling out for her husband, crying to know where he was.

Her calling for Tommen had drawn the attention of those present, many gave her odd looks for the state of her undress, but she could not care less, she needed to know her husband was well. Tobiah had turned from the Prince Daemon to address Elinor concern etched on his features, though they were devoid of any panic of grief, which already brought some degree of relief to Elinor. But that relief may have been felt too soon, as Elinor soon felt a pain within her womb that felt all too much like the pain of her moon blood in the past. As she gasped and grabbed at her stomach she did see panic enter her goodbrother’s gaze, who wasted no time in running to her, pushing any in how way aside.

“Elinor! Sister are you alright?” Tobiah’s voiced sounded higher and more unsure than she had ever heard it, though Elinor could not find it within herself to care. She was feeling pains like that of her moonblood while heavily pregnant and still did not know where her husband was. Tobiah was luckily there on time to steady her before she fell over. Her earlier exhaustion and soreness now returned to her along with the shock and exhaustion from running so well as she could.

“T-Tommen, where is Tommen? The dragon, the squire said the dragon had landed before Tommen meant to- where is my husband?” Elinor’s words were rushed and panicked as she spoke, her mind racing as the pain lingered. Elinor could not say with any certainty that she labors may be beginning soon, but if they were then she wanted to at least know where her husband was.

“On Vermithor, he’s on Vermithor. Prince Daemon spoke ill of our mother, My brother challenged him and asked that the gods make their will known, and they most certainly did. Tommen has become a dragon rider, proving the will of the Gods on the matter of our mother’s legitimacy without the need for bloodshed.” Tobiah was clearly trying to keep his tone even as he explained what had happened, likely knowing that as stressful as hearing what her foolish husband had done would be better than not knowing at all.

Elinor would have replied to Tobiah’s words that her husband was an idiot who’s hide she would tan when he returned for putting such fear in her heart, but all she managed was a groan as she felt the pain of her womb be replaced with a pain in her lower back. Her groan earned her another look of concern from her good brother, who was now joined by the princess. When the Princess Rhaenyra had joined Tobiah at her side Elinor did not know, but in the moment she did not care so much as she should, not even when the queen herself made her way over to where Elinor stood supported by Tobiah.

“Elinor we need to get you back to your apartments, preferably with a Maester or at least an acolyte at hand. Once we have you somewhere safe I’ll go grab the horses and retrieve Tommen from the Dragonpit.” Elinor only nodded in reply to Tobiah’s words, and in that moment she was glad to at very least have Tobiah there, though she would much have preferred he go collect her husband first so she could have her husband at her side. But she understood his fear for her and the babe’s wellbeing first.

“We will see to your goodsister Lord Tobiah, one of the Kingsguard will assist her to her chambers and we will be there with her. You must go collect your brother, he ought to know that his wife’s labors could begin within the day if the Gods are willing.” The Queen Alicent was the one to speak, taking Elinor’s hand in hers gently as she did so. Elinor could not have been more grateful, for she wanted her husband there more than anything else in the world. Though she should not have been surprised that Queen Alicent knew so well what she needed at that moment, she herself was a mother to two royal babes.

It was however with that thought, that she remembered exactly who the two women at her sides were, that they were all but surrounded by the court with Elinor looking hysterical and in no sort of appropriate dress to stand before the Queen Alicent and Princess Rhaenyra. It was like the feeling of being struck by cold water, as she seemed to come to her senses and realize what exactly she must have looked like to those gathered.

“There is no need your Grace, Princess Rhaenyra. I apologize for my unseemly behavior, I will see myself back to my chambers.” Elinor’s cheeks began to burn red as she felt the eyes of the court on her, Lord and Ladies alike staring at her. Elinor was sure she would never live this down. She had brought shame to house Thornwood and by extension now to house Targayren.

“Nonsense, you are our kin by marriage and soon will be kin twice over. Your babe will be Rhaenyra’s niece of nephew and cousin both, my niece or nephew twice over, it would not do for us to leave you now. Especially not after you thought your Husband in peril only to find he has claimed a dragon. Now come ser Criston, Rhaenyra and I will help the lady, but you must be near should her strength fail her.” The Queen Alicent spoke with a tone that left no room for argument as she took Elinor’s left arm while Rhaenyra shooed Tobiah off and took her right.

Once Tobiah had seen she would not fall over he did as her Grace bade him do earlier and made at once to go to his and Tommen’s steads to go collect Elinor’s husband. All the while the two most powerful women in the realm supported and soothed Elinor as they made their way back to Elinor and Tommen’s apartments.

Chapter 23: Alicent Hightower: Mother, Mothers to be

Summary:

Alicent and Rhaenyra stay with Elinor while Tobiah is off to get Tommen and the Grand Maester gathers the tools and people he needs and shambles his was over to the Thornwood appartments.

Alicent stood beside the daybed where Lady Elinor had been guided to lay down, a chair being brought for her by one of the servants. Rhaenyra stood beside the Lady Thornwood as well, concern clear on her face. Alicent did not blame her, or she had lost her mother to the childbed, and Alicent suspected that Rhaenyra’s absence from Alicent’s side when her time came twice before was not just because of their distance. The eyes of the princess darting to the clearly discomforted Lady Elinor more often as the minutes ticked by.

The first pains Lady Elinor had faced had subsided once, only to have returned and began to subside again. As Alicent counted the minutes so well as she could she was sure Lady Elinor had begun the early pains of the labors, though how long it would be before the birth truly began was a mystery. For Alicent when she had felt the pains every few minutes in repeating it had only been not even two hours before little Aegon came, it was nearer to three hours for little Helaena. But Alicent knew that for some women it could take nearly half a day yet.

Had it been a birth induced by nature there would have been lesser pain with longer and more irregular pauses between them for hours and even days before. But this was a birth induced by shock and panic, and so Alicent was not sure she could make any sort of guess on how long it would take. When the Maester arrives he likely would be able to make a better estimation than she.

“Your Grace, Princess Rhaenyra, I must offer my apologies for my unseemly behavior. You truly needn’t bother yourself with me or my-” Whatever Lady Elinor meant to say was cut off by another groan as she was struck by another pain, though Alicent could guess well enough what she meant. But Alicent also noted it had been less than five minutes since the last pains had affected Lady Elinor. It seemed the shock that had induced her labors would make this a short labor as well, for better and worse.

“Careful now, you mustn’t concern yourself with such trivial matter now, for your sake and that of the babe. But if it truly weighs on you so, you should know that I didn’t find your behavior unseemly, you did as any good wife who loves her husband would have.” Alicent knew that only telling her to focus on the babe would not ease Lady Elinor’s nerves, so she made to assure the lady that she had not disgraced herself before her queen. And it seemed to work some, as some bit of tension seemed to leave her. Though that could have just as easily been some of the pain subsiding.

“Alicent is right. And It’s no bother to be here either, you are kin by marriage once over already, and when I marry Tobiah you will be my goodsister as well. This child will be my niece or nephew, and Alicent’s great-niece or great-nephew. Our being here at least until your labors begin in earnest is perfectly natural.” There was a stubborn jut to Rhaenyra’s chin as she spoke, though Alicent could tell that to a certain degree she was trying to convince herself of that fact as much if not more so than Lady Elinor. Alicent had not realized just how much seeing a woman struggle with her early labors had come to discomfort Rhaenyra, but it was clear to Alicent that it truly did distress her.

Though even as Alicent observed that fact, she also took into account Rhaenyra’s words. Indeed by way of marriage Lady Elinor was kin, even if a bit distantly, though that would soon change when Rhaenyra and Tobiah were wed. Alicent had nearly forgotten that fact, for she had been far more focused only simply helping a lady of good character in her time of need. Alicent had been so taken in by the sight of a dutiful wife so earnestly concerned for her husband that it drew her into early labor that it had nearly slipped her mind that Lady Elinor was distant kin once over and soon to be closer kin as well.

“I hadn’t quite thought of that. I suppose it wouldn’t be improper for the nearest female kin to be present for the early labors. I suppose in my panic I had nearly forgotten our relation and soon to be relation to each other.” The smile on the face of Lady Elinor was a weak and clearly pained one, but it was a smile nonetheless, and it a sign that at least some of her concern was soothed, which in this moment was monumentally important. Distress would do her a disservice in this hour for her, better that she is so at ease as she could be.

“Today has been quite an eventful day, there is no fault in forgetting the soon-to-be’s and distant relations in such an event. But if it brings you any measure of comfort, I am quite excited to meet my great- nephew or great-niece to be. I have found myself rather alone in my circle as the first to be a mother, and I am sure little Aegon and Heleana would be delighted to have a playmate nearer to them in age.” As Alicent spoke she took her seat on the chair that had been brought to her at some point earlier, though she had not noticed it.

And she was true in her words. Alicent truly did feel rather lonely as the first in her sewing circle to be a mother. Of course she knew the fact she was the queen was also at play in that matter, but she would be lying if she said she did not notice the changes in her after she had borne Aegon and later Heleane. And she was also being completely honest about this new babe potentially becoming a playmate to her son or daughter, or mayhaps both. As of current they have absolutely not kin of their own age, the first of their generation. Distant a relation as it was, it would be a good thing for them to have kin of their own to play and grow with, certainly as Rhaenyra’s marriage was still a ways off, and even if a babe were begotten immediately it would still be a year before a babe would be born.

“We can worry about the potential of children being playmates or not when the babe is here and healthy. For now I think it would be best to focus on seeing to Elinor’s comfort until her labors begin in earnest. Let us have a servant move a pillow beneath her feet and between her knees, my mother always swore by it to aid with the pains.” There was the slightest hint of tightness in Rhaenyra’s voice as she interjected, though it was concealed by her genuine desire to help Lady Elinor in easing her pains so well as she could.

Alicent was sure that Rhaenyra’s nerves were fraying, for she had lost siblings to early births, had stayed by her mother’s side and fussed over the late Queen Aemma many a time in the past. For Rhaenyra this was a familiar place to be, though one that likely lead to her preparing for the worst. Still Alicent did not begrudge Rhaenyra the slight terseness of her tone nor her interjections. If anything Alicent thought this might be good for her, to aid her in facing her fears.

“A good point and a wonderful idea. I will have one of the servants grab the sweet smelling herbs I had steamed during my labors, for they helped greatly in easing my mind and making my labors pass with far less fuss than was expected.” Indeed as she spoke she motioned for one of the servants to come closer so she could tell them where to retrieve the herbs. It had been something her own mother had reportedly done when facing her own labors, and her father had had the herbs bought for her when in her labors with Aegon and later Helaena.

She was determined to ease Lady Elinor so well as she could, both with her words, and as Rhaenyra ahad shifted the focus to, with techniques used by women before to ease births and the labors that came with them.

Notes:

THE FIRST CHAPTER OF THE ALICENT/SI FIC IS UP! 'All who Wander' has it's first chapter. It felt appropriate to post it alongside Alicent's chapter in this fic, so it's up now!

Anyways, as always I hope you enjoyed this chapter, if you did be sure to comment what you liked about the chapter, what yo didn't. your predictions and thoughts. Interaction keeps me going. And be sre to check out 'All who Wander' and comment and kudos there as well if you like it.

Chapter 24: Tobiah Thornwood: The weight of anticipation

Summary:

Tobiah and Rhaenyra and panicking and Alicent has an idea on how to distract them.

Tobiah paced outside Tommen and Elinor’s apartments, sweaty, dusty and looking a mess. He had literally raced through the streets of King’s landing as fast as he could to retrieve Tommen, forgoing a saddle for him or his brother’s horses. Luckily there had been a knight just coming in who had offered to ‘escort’ them so they weren’t mistaken for horse thieves or anything, which would have absolutely been a problem. Said knight was now enjoying an evening of entertainment on Tobiah’s coin in thanks. Because of that knight Tobiah had avoided a sticky situation and had gotten Tommen back to the Red Keep in time for the Grand Maester to announce that Elinor’s labors were starting in earnest.

Despite what most would consider the norm Tommen had gone to Elinor’s side and refused to leave. Their father had apparently stayed by their mother’s side and well, just and his father for his mother before him. In that regard Tobiah was glad to have been born into the family he had been born into, even if it wasn’t all sunshine and roses. For one, Thornwoods believed in staying beside their wives because they didn’t believe in giving ANY milk of the poppy to a mother, not until the placenta had been passed, which was not the norm in Westeros. Tobiah supposed it was give and take, and Elinor had insisted on doing it as most every mother of the Thornwood had done before her.

“I understand your concern, Lord Tobiah. You clearly love your brother and goodsister dearly. But wearing a hole into the floor with your pacing will serve no one. Why don’t you and Rhaenyra go to the nursery and pick out some swaddling cloth for the babe, your brother and sister likely hadn’t brought any with them as they expected to be back at Woodward by the time the babe came.” Alicent’s words put Tobiah’s pacing to an end. His head snapping up to face the queen before turning to Rhaenyra, who looked almost as worried as Tobiah, the princess twisting the ring on her finger harshly enough that it left the skin on the finger looking red.

“Right, swaddling clothes, they’ll need those once the babe is actually-... We should get those, then.” Despite his words Tobiah was rooted in place, his eyes looking a bit far of as his hand clenched and unclenched with his attempts to ground himself. Tobiah wanted to be the rational image of calm confidence he did his best to always be, but it was hard to do so now. A birth induced due to shock and stress with a babe coming a month early was a recipe for disaster, especially in Westeros. Tobiah couldn’t help but remember how many women dies in childbirth in the book, how many babies died, even more so it seemed than in the world he had once called his own.

“Exactly, and choosing your new niece or nephew’s first set of swaddling clothes is quite important. It will be the first thing they ever wear. There are many sets that Helaena hasn’t used, as the nurse maids to show you the unused sets and you may choose some for your new niece or nephew. It will be good for both you and Rhaenyra I think, to take the time to choose the first swaddling clothes of a babe together, and a few other sets, my gift to your good sister and her new babe.” It seemed Alicent was intent on making this happen, using multiple angles to see which one sticked and got the very anxious couple to stop hovering around the door and go an do something that may allow them to look forward to the birth of a niece or nephew even if it was under less than stellar circumstances.

Neither of them ended up responding verbally, but Tobiah did offer his arm to Rhaenyra, who accepted it before them silently made their way to the nursery. Clearly the both of them were still very much in their own minds with their fears and concerns, but at least they weren’t hovering around the door of Elinor and Tommen’s apartments anymore. And indeed as they drew nearer and nearer to the nursery the rigidity in their forms did ease a bit, but not but much. Even their words to the nurse maids seemed stiff and awkward.

Thankfully the Nursemaids had the grace to not try and begin a whole conversation about what sort of color or pattern they were looking for an instead just brought out some of the swaddling clothes that had been meant for Helaena but that she never used. Tobiah found himself finding something new out about Westeros. Apparently their swaddling clothed came in two layers, the linen layer closer to the skin and then the fancy blanket like one on the outside for the rich folk. It was actually something of a learning experience for him as the nursemaid explained the how and why so they had more information to go off of aside from just color.

“I suppose the babe is going to be small, so maybe not the red an blue one or the black one with the scale stitched corners, else they may get lost in all the bulk.” A weak attempt at a joke and actual input on the decision that had just been handed to them. But it served it’s propose, Rhaenyra finally looking at Tobiah for the first time since Alicent had sent them off, a slight twitch of a smile gracing her lips for a moment, which was better than had been seen on her since Elinor had began the contractions and then her labor proper.

“Honestly they look to big for any babe, poor thing would be swimming in the things. No, these lighter ones look better suited to the job.” There was a slight hint of humor to Rhaenyra’s voice, and Tobiah counted it a victory. Folding the offending pieces in question back up and setting them aside. The inner swaddling clothes had been easy enough to choose, but both Tobiah and Rhaenyra found themselves surprised by the sheer number of options, running from simple to so opulent it looked ridiculous.

“Maybe this light blue one here? Blue is one of our hose colors and it looks like it would be comfortable not just for the baby but also for Elinor to hold.” With the ice broken the search proper could begin and indeed it did. Soon the two of them were debating the merits of each piece. A number were set aside for ‘later’ use as part of the gift alicent intended for Elinor and the new babe, three quite simple but nice, one with fine embroidery and one that Tobiah thought was far too opulent for any babe but Rhaenyra insisted needed be added to the pile for ‘special occasions’ as though the babe wouldn't be out of swaddling clothes in a matter of months at most.

But when it came to the one they had truly come for it ended up being quite the ordeal. Not because they couldn’t agree, but because all they could agree on was all the reasons that a piece just wouldn’t do. It was only when they both stood there holding a piece and flossing over how the stitches might be just a tad abrasive on Elinor’s arms that they realized just how ridiculous they were being. Leading to the two of them slowly descending into a laughing fit as they realized how utterly foolish they were being.

“Let us hope this doesn’t become a habit for use or we may find ourselves so engrossed in fussing over the length of every stitch that we may miss the birth of our own children.” Rhaenyra’s quip, whether intending to or not, brought Tobiah’s laugh to a slow halt. The smile did not fall from his face though, it only grew warmth at her words. And Tobiah considered if this may not have been part of Alicent’s intention as well.

“We’d never live down missing the birth of our own children would we. Though it would make for a funny story to tell. The crown princess and her consort so busy picking out swaddling clothes the birth had to go on with either of them there to witness it.” The two began to chortle again as the ridiculousness of the statement, and with it all the tension that may have clung to either of them was thoroughly done away with.

…It still took them another twenty minutes to decide on which one to bring to Elinor and the babe for it’s first swaddling proper.

Notes:

*Screaming into the void* EYO! ANYONE THERE OR HAS THE HOLIDAY SILENCE STARTED ALREADY!

All jokes aside I forgot that around this time of year comments and stuff dry up becase everyone is so busy and I was actually scared that people just stopped enjoying the story... The I remembered what time of year it is and that most would probably be back once the holiday season is over.

Anyways, to those of yo who are here when the chapter comes ot first... Hi, how are ya? Did you enjoy the chapter?

Chapter 25: Rhaenyra Targaryen: Life brought forth anew.

Summary:

Rhaenyra is confronted with her trauma, her dynamic with Tobiah and hope in the form of a new life.

(Note, I edited some of the more egregious mistakes I spotted, the rest will hopefully be picked up on the suual edit schedule)

The softening wail of a babe, the slowing of heavy breathing, and the feeling of utmost relief. The tension lingered, but the worst of it was now gone, for at least the babe had been born.

It was quite early, earlier than Rhaenyra would ever be up under normal circumstances. Indeed, she had seen her father sleep through the birth of one or two of her siblings that were born dead, sure he would meet them upon the morrow. Rhaenyra herself had learned to continue on with her days and nights while her mother laboured in pains that in the end would yield not new babe. Sometimes Rhaenyra resented herself for that fact, and that she had done the same and worse to Alicent. But she still struggled to see those babes of her’s, those children born to replace all those dead babes her mother laboured and died for.

The feeling of her future husband’s hands surrounding hers drew Rhaenyra from the whirlpool of dark thoughts in her mind that threatened to drag her down. This was not the first time he had done this since his goodsister had started her labours. After they had returned from choosing the swaddling clothes for the babe they had only managed to keep their spirits up for so long before Rhaenyra was back to fidgeting with her rings.

Rhaenyra was sure the sight of Tobiah kneeling before her as she sat with her hands in his as he carefully pulled her rings from the red and angry flesh of her fingers, would be seared in her mind for years to come. He had whispered that he could not in good conscience let her hurt herself for nothing, not when not hurting was a choice as well. He had remained there, on one knee, soothing the flesh of her reddened fingers with gentle swipes of his thumb and small grounding squeezes of her hands. Rhaenyra did not know how long they had stayed like that last night, only that by the time it was announced that the babe was more like to come in the early morn than the late night and it was decided that they would take a short night’s rest before returning, that Tobiah had struggled to get up.

Tobiah had of course returned her rings to her last night, along with a soft reminder that while he would always follow her lead where it mattered, he still felt his duty to circumvent and prevent as much undue suffering for her as he could, even in something as small as this. And Rhaenyra found herself glad of it. For as much as she loved the idea of having a man at her side that would gladly follow her and respect her as his future queen, she also knew she needed husband, a man who was not just a glad and willing servant. She had slept so well as she could, her mind warring between Lady Elinor and the babe and the peace brought to her by Tobiah. This morning she had forgone wearing her rings.

“It won’t be too long now until we can go check in on the both of them and meet the newest addition to the family. They still need to tend to Elinor, pass the afterbirth and clean up a bit, it should only take a few minutes.” Tobiah’s voice was steady and calm. Or at least it would have been for anyone who had not spent hours speaking with him and paying attention to every word he said and every inflection of his voice. But Rhaenyra had, and she could hear the tension in the voice of her future husband, even if he did well to conceal it. For who’s sake he concealed it, his or hers, she could not quite tell however.

“You… I have meant to ask this, but did not find the time before. Is it the norm for Thornwood men to stay by their wives’ sides during their labors? You did not seem surprised that your brother chose to do so, and even seemed quite offended when one of the Maester’s acolytes had implied it was not your brother’s place to be there.” It was a question that had eaten away at her for some time. For it was so contrary to what she knew and was sure was the norm. Then again, Thornwood men did not seem to care much for what was or wasn’t the norm and rather believed in doing things the way that felt most right to them.

“It is, my father was present for the birth of both my brother and myself, his father had been preset when him and his late sister were born, and believe his father before him as well. It is both tradition and something we simply see as the right thing to do. We are the ones who got our wives pregnant, we are the ones who made it so they must endure those labours to bring our child into the world, we ought to be there to support them through it.” The way Tobiah said it, with such conviction, as though he truly believed it to be true. That as the husband and father of the child it was the man’s duty to be present and support his wife through her labours… Rhaenyra was not quite sure what to make of it.

For it was indeed so very contrary to everything she had known up until that moment. Contrary to how her father went about his day, though with some worry, while her mother had laboured over and over again. He had done the same with Alicent if Rhaenyra remembered correctly. Then again, her father was a coward, and man who lived for the easy way and not for the hard and unpleasant way, he had proven that much time and time again… Tobiah was not such a man, nor was his brother. From what Rhaenyra had learned of her future goodfamily, the Thornwoods were a family that held personal integrity and honor above tradition, something Rhaenyra found herself admiring greatly.

“Princess Rhaenyra, Lord Tobiah, the Lord and Lady Thornwood have invited you to come in to meet the babe.” A mousy girl of a servant addressed the two as the doors opened and servants went out with the bloodied and otherwise dirtied sheets. With them came a scent Rhaenyra knew all too well, a scent that brought her right back to hugging her sobbing mother after birthing yet another dead babe. It left her frozen and memories she would rather forget rising to the surface. So lost in her memories was Rhaenyra that she almost did not notice Tobiah slowly pulling her to her feet.

“Rhaenyra listen to me, here my voice and remember that this isn’t the past. Elinor isn’t your mother and this babe isn’t one of you siblings. We wouldn't have been called in to the meet the babe if something was wrong.” It was more of a struggle than Rhaenyra wished to admit, remembering that Elinor was indeed not her mother and that there was no dead babe but rather one that is alive. Rhaenyra could not help the dark voice in her mind that whispered that babes dies in the cradle all the time, especially those born too soon. She was only half aware of Tobiah guiding her to the door, at least until she saw into the chambers.

Upon the bed was Lady Elinor, feeding the small babe in her arms. And Rhenyra could not name why, but it was a sight that drove the dark memories and thoughts from her mind.

She had of course seen babes with wet nurses and even noble women of a lower status feed their babes, indeed many celebrated the first time a mother fed her babe. Rhaenyra had not meet a woman with children who did not take the first feeding or even the first few feedings upon themselves before a wetnurse was hired. And yet, knowing it, having seen mothers feed their babes from afar, it did not prepare her for what she felt now. What she felt seeing a new mother feed her babe for the first time, her eyes filled with nothing but the purest of love. It was a sight that commanded respect and awe, and clearly Rhaenyra was not the only who though so.

“Come, come. Don’t just stand at the door, you have a niece to meet.” It was Lord Thornwood who spoke, encouraging them to come into the chamber properly. And only at his words did Lady Elinor draw her gaze from her new babe and to where Rhaenyra and Tobiah stood in the doorway. Tobiah urged Rhaenyra on and once they were within the door was closed behind them.

There was an incredible peace with the Lord and Lady Thornwood’s chambers, a soft joy and comfort that washed over Rhaenyra and seemed to encourage her fears and tension to melt away. Tobiah encouraged her so far as the foot of the bed before he stepped forward alone to greet his brother, goodsister and his new niece. Despite standing behind his Rhaenyra could see the shaking of his frame, even as his brother encouraged him to take place on a stool next to the bed. When he did Rhaenyra could see the glassiness of his eyes and the shaking of his hands.

“A girl? You have a daughter? I have a niece?” Any composure Tobiah had made himself maintain was well and truly gone as he looked at the babe, nothing but misty eyed love and affection for his new kin to be seen in his eyes. Neither he nor his brother looked at all disappointed that the babe was a girl. Indeed it was as if there was no care for that at all, only joy and love for the little girl that was with them now.

And little was certainly the word, for she was smaller than most living babes Rhaenyra had ever seen, then again she had not seen many newborns, let alone one born early. She was still a little blue around the limbs and what wasn’t bluish looking was incredibly pale, her head looked almost too large for her body, but she seemed to drink from her mother greedily and did not seem so overly small or thin that she wold have little chance to live. Indeed Rhaenyra had heard of babes a month and ha half early living and they were described as skinny and like little birds. This babe merely seemed small and pale.

“Indeed I we do. A beautiful little girl to love and spoil and adore. The Maester says she is as healthy as one could hope, and that despite being early our little girl is more like than not to live.” Rhaenyra could not help the relief that flooded through her, for at least today there would be no dead babes and grieving mothers. And she could see the relief in Tobiah as well.

As they sat and stood at the Lady Elinor’s bedside with her new babe in her arms Rhaenyra felt something within her shift, something change. And for the first time in a long time the thought of the birthing bed did not alone seem to promise death.

Notes:

Hey, it's been a while huh? My health has taken a nosedive and that means my writing has been on pause. I am picking it back up again bt at a slower and more (it happens when it happens) pace.

Sorry if this chapter seems a bit off, I'm getting back into the writing game. But for a chapter written after a sickness induced writing dryspell I think it's pretty okay. Bt what do you guys think?

Chapter 26: Viserys Targaryen: Red dawn

Summary:

Viserys decides to pay a visit to the Thornwoods and arrives just on time to be put between a rock and a hard spot.

Viserys sat alone at a small side table in his chambers, breaking his fast as he stares as his growing model of old Valyria. He had extended an open invitation to Rhaenyra to join him, the way they had done in early mornings before they went to visit his late queen after yet another still birth before they would go to her. Perhaps it had been in poor taste to do so, to assume that the babe would perish for being born early. But Viserys was so used to the idea that if anything went wrong in a pregnancy that it meant the babe would perish.

With Alicent, she had been blessed with so ideal a pregnancy and course labors as one could hope for, twice over now. Which ironically did nothing to dissuade Viserys’ deep seeded impression that should anything go wrong with a pregnancy that the babe would perish. Of course Viserys knew that was not true, but in his heart that idea had taken root in the fertile soil of his grief and love. He had gone to sleep last night believing his kin would have to pay for claiming the second largest and perhaps the fiercest dragon alive with the life of his unborn child.

And yet, today it seemed, was not a day for grief. For as Viserys picked at his bacon a servant knocked at the door to deliver the news that the babe had been born, and despite a difficult labor, both mother and babe seemed healthy and hale. Viserys was informed that his wife and daughter both were already visiting the new mother, assisting her in place of her immediate kin who were either long gone or simply not present. Viserys knew that the Lord Thornwood would stay by his wife’s side, as was tradition for the men of House Thornwood.

Viserys sent for servants to come to see his half eaten meal taken away and himself dressed to go greet the new mother, father and babe. For it would not do for Viserys, as king and head of his household, not to welcome in the newest member of the extended Targaryen line. Usually Ladies did not accept visitors outside of the immediate family for the first three days of their lying-in, but Rhaenyra and Alicent both were currently with her, so Viserys supposed his household was taking the place of the Lord and Lady Thornwood’s immediate kin, Which meant Viserys would play his part as the patriarch.

Viserys chose to dress with more red in his attire than usual, for he felt the need to make it clear he wore no mourning attire, today was a day of new life and the solidification of the sons of Daena Targaryen as proper Targaryen descendants, just as his cousin Rhaenys’ son Laenor was, the eldest now with a dragon of his own. News will have spread, that in defending the good name of his mother, a dragon had come to bond with her eldest son. None would question Viserys’ decision now, none would dare to call them the sons of a bastard when the truth of her legitimization was as clear as day in Vermithor’s choosing of Lord Thornwood. And in turn would prove that Viserys’ word truly was law, that Targaryens were closer to gods than men, even if Viserys knew they were far from being Gods.

Indeed, the only thing Viserys could have hoped to be different would be which of the Thornwood brothers was bonded to Vermithor. It would have given his heart far more peace for his goodson-to-be to have been the one to bond with the Bronze fury. Not that he didn’t trust Lord Tommen Thornwood, he seemed a good man who loved his family dearly and was more likely than not just as honorable and loyal as his father was. But Viserys could not ignore that having the lord of another house ride the second largest dragon in was a potentially dangerous new precedent.

Though Viserys supposed that when the Lord Corlys eventually passed on and Ser Laenor became lord that the same would be true either way. Better someone tied more closely to Viserys and his line than anyone else. Still it would have been more ideal for it to have been Lord Tobiah or better yet one of his and Rhaenyra’s children. To have the two largest of house Targaryen’s dragons in the hands of relations who did not bear the name was not ideal, even Viserys could see that. And while he wished to think the best of his kin who did not share his name, he could not help but feel cautious.

As the valets finished preparing Viserys for the day the King wondered to the possibility of perhaps encouraging his goodson-to-be to claim a dragon for himself. Perhaps Silverwing or Dreamfyre, both great drakes that had gone long enough without a rider, Dreamfyre especially so. Having both Thornwood brothers claim great dragons for their own so soon after their mother was declared legitimate would certainly be a boon to Viserys’ reign, would further prove the righteousness of his word as law. And it might set his mind to ease, as with how besotted his goodson-to-be was with his daughter Viserys knew Tobiah would never betray her.

Those were the thoughts and considerations that swirled through the monarch’s mind as he made his way from his chambers to the guest chambers of Maegor’s holdfast, where the Thornwoods were staying and where the lady Thornwood had undergone her labors through the night. They were set in a secondary set of chambers which in the reign of the Old King had been used by one of his younger children, though who exactly Viserys did not know. It was meant for one person and had originally been set aside for the Lord Thornwood alone, but Viserys’ goodson-to-be had insisted his brother would not be happy to be separated from his wife, nor she happy to be away from him, and in her delicate state in carrying her and the lord Thornwood’s first child Viserys though better of it than to deny the couple their comfort.

Maids busied themselves through the halls, a few lords strayed towards the rooms but did not actually approach, more likely then not simply hoping to glean some news rather than thinking to approach the new mother, babe and the newest Dragon-rider of the Targaryen bloodline. It was early morning yet, and still the halls were nearly as busy as though it were midday. They all stood aside and bowed their heads to their king of course, many dispersing as soon as he passed them. It was not quite appropriate for them to present themselves as well wishers yet, but that did not stop them from gathering.

“Your Grace? The lady Thornwood is yet recovering and is not yet presentable Your Grace. She has only invited her most immediate family along with Her Grace the Queen and Princess Rhaenyra in, as they are the nearest women to her available.” The guard at the door, a man clad in Thornwood colors, one of the few of their retinue they had been permitted to keep close, addressed the king with a bowed head and an even tone. Though it seemed Viserys had not been expected.

“Indeed, as she has no immediate kin near to her it seemed natural my household fill that role as my wife and daughter already have. I thought I may congratulate her and see the health of the babe.” Viserys realized he had no been expected, but that was more than likely because Viserys was not one for early mornings. His daughter and Wife both had already been playing the part of nearest kin after all, surely no one thought to exclude him from this moment when the majority of his available family were so closely tied to this event and the birth of this new babe to the newest Dragonrider of the realm.

“I shall inform the Lord and Lady of your arrival.” Viserys did not miss the hint of an inquisitive tone to the guard’s voice nor the slight quint of his eyes before he turned to open the door and stepped within. It did give Viserys pause. Surely a guard of his soon to be good-family, a house known for their loyalty and humility would not disrespect him in his own keep. Was Viserys perhaps here too early yet? Viserys had head that Alicent and Rhaenyra both had joined the Lady Thornwood along with her husband and goodbrother, so he had assumed she would be taking visitors. But it may not have been the case, for Viserys had heard once that the Thornwoods had a queer tradition or two surrounding birth.

“Your Grace, we weren’t expecting you so early. My goodsister asks for a moment to make herself presentable and then would be glad to welcome you in. In the meantime, may I ask how you fare this morning? Yesterday was certainly eventful, and my brother and I both worry we may have caused you much undue stress.” Stepping out of the chambers along with the guard from earlier was none other than Tobiah Thornwood, Rhaenyra’s chosen betrothed, son of Viserys’ recently legitimized cousin and one of the few men Viserys was sure was utterly sincere in his words. For in the short time Viserys had known Tobiah the man had been nothing but good natured, honest and upright in his words and actions, and utterly smitten with Rhaenyra.

Viserys was just about to assure his future goodson that it was far from his fault that things had gotten so tense yesterday before Vermithor had decided to lay claim to the eldest Thornwood brother. In fact he was preparing to make an apology for Daemon’s conduct alongside it, sure that the good natured Thornwood would accept and move past that unpleasantness from the day before now that it was all settled. But before he could even get the first word out Viserys watched Lord Tobiah’s expression fall. That good natured smile souring as his brows furrowed, lips pursed and the young man began to glare. Not at Viserys, thankfully, but just over his shoulder. Not that it stopped a chill from running down Viserys’ spine at the sheer intensity of the displeasure that expression expressed.

“Brother, it’s not often I see you out and about so early. Come to give your well wishes to the new mother and babe as well have you?” If Tobiah’s glare had sent a chill down his spine then hearing Daemon’s voice behind him had set a dread sink in Viserys’ stomach. And Viserys knew then that the matter of Yesterday had not been laid to rest, and whatever came of Daemon’s presence here would not be pretty.

Notes:

This chapter was miserable to write, especially with how hard my health tanked twice in a row. Getting used to being chronically ill and accepting new limitations is the worst. But we got through it and now we get to move on towards and chapter I've been looking forward to for months.

Anyways, be sure to tell me what you thought of the chapter and how you think things are going to go down. Interaction keeps me from giving up on writing when I'm grappling with losing a third of my bodyweight to the dumbest of dumb (in my very biased opinion) chronic illnesses.

Chapter 27: Daemon Targaryen: Bastard's Son

Summary:

Daemon thinks he's going to roll up on the happy occasion, only for him to be rebuffed. + AN about characterization.

Daemon saw the smile of the younger Thornwood brother fall before the prince had even said a a word. Something which only made the Targaryen prince smirk all the more as he addressed his brother, who still had his kingly back turned to Daemon. Daemon had debated on whether or not he should follow his whim and darken the doorstep of the Thornwoods, something he was actually going to forgo doing… Until he had seen his brother in the halls making a turn for the hallway where the family of upstarts were staying, and Daemon couldn’t resist.

The elder Thornwood may have been chosen by Vermithor, but that spoke more to the power of his brother’s word than to any worthiness on the part of the Thornwoods or Lord Thornwood himself. Or at least that was what Daemon told himself, even if it contradicted his own beliefs and opinions to do so. Because Daemon’s pride still stung and he was not going to concede anything to a family of up jumps who’s only tie to house Targaryen was a posthumously legitimized bastard and a marriage they were far from worthy for.

“No… You need to turn yourself around and walk back to wherever you came from. You and your piss poor attitude and disrespect will not be ruining this day for my brother or goodsister. Now leave, before I make you.” Despite his obvious displeasure the younger Thornwood brother kept his voice low and even, which, if Daemon held even the slightest hint of respect for him, may have deterred him for a moment. That glare was certainly something as well, were Daemon a lesser man he would have certainly been intimidated. But Daemon was the the blood of the dragon, pure and true, and he would not be cowed by some bastard’s son.

Still it seemed the younger of the Thornwood brothers had fangs himself, and was no less willing to draw steel against Daemon should the ‘need’ arise than his brother had been. In fact, he seemed almost more ready to stand against Daemon, and had a more heated look to his glare than the Lord Thornwood had had the day before. Perhaps aside from inheriting just a touch more in regards to a Targaryen appearance he had also inherited more of a Dragon’s fire to fuel his temper than his elder brother.

Indeed, it may have been for the better that it was the more reserved elder brother that had been claimed by Vermithor, as aside from Vhagar he was the only dragon that could truly pose a threat to Caraxes. Though there were still large dragons to be claimed yet, the two next largest and most likely were Silverwing and Dreamfyre, more docile she-dragons who had been the mounts of queens. How fitting Daemon found that. Considering what he had heard of this younger Thornwood and how supposedly obedient and nearly eager to be a consort he supposedly was. Perhaps a Queen’s mount would be suited to him if he ever was to claim a dragon as his elder brother had.

“Come Lord Tobiah, no need to be so hostile. Your brother claimed his dragon, his wife bore him a babe, I doubt he has any reason to remain ill pleased with me for a few untoward words. Surely Thornwood men are not the sort to hold grudges over a settled matter. I come in peace, I swear it, I only wish to make the acquaintance of the newest member of my dearest niece’s soon to be good-family.” The smirk and tone of Daemon’s voice could make it clear even to a fool that he did not mean what he said, he couldn’t care less about the babe if he tried.

“Have you no shame Daemon? Have you not even a sliver of conscience to govern your words and actions? I had hoped that after yesterday you might reflect on your words and previous actions. But here you stand, as though to proclaim that shame and conscious are words you do not know the meaning of.” Both Daemon and the younger Thornwood brother found their attention drawn from each other to their king, who had turned to face his brother with a glare than did make Daemon’s smirk waver. It was a look much like Viserys had bore when he had sent Daemon away, though the tears were replaced with something that hurt Daemon far more than he’s ever admit.

Daemon had felt for years the growing distance between himself and his brother, the distance men such as Otto Hightower had put between them. Vultures and vermin the lot of them, feasting on his brother’s weakness and putting poison in his ears about Daemon. He wouldn’t be surprised if this Thornwood had done the same, was poisoning Viserys against him just ast the rest were. His family was certainly benefitting from being the soon-to-be goodfamily of the heir and would benefit further from having their blood on the throne. These sons of a bastard grasping higher than they had any right to. Daemon was sure of it. His brother had been hurt by Daemon’s words, he knew that, but to glare at him like this even years later? It must have been the work of poisoned words and whispers. Daemon refused to believe otherwise.

“Brother, surely-”” Enough! I will not hear another word out of you! Your lack of remorse or regret speaks loudly enough.” Viserys did not let Daemon even voice his defense, something he had done even when he had first been sent from court. Which to Daemon was all the evidence he needed to confirm in his mind that in his time away Vierys had been completely poisoned against Daemon.

“Your Grace, if I may? I have a few things to say. You have my word that I will do my utmost to remain civil, but some things must be said.” Daemon’s gaze snapped back to his niece’s soon-to-be husband, who was looking at him with a sort of intensity that actually did prickle Daemon slightly. The glare he could handle, as intense a glare as it had been, Daemon was used to being looked at like that. But somewhere between Viserys addressing Daemon and the younger Thornwood brother speaking up again something had changed.

He wasn’t glaring anymore, his eyes no longer filled with a cold fire that threatened to consume everything around him. He wasn’t even staring, at least it didn’t feel like a stare. No it felt like he was looking through Daemon, like he was looking past his anger and into Daemon himself. And even if Daemon would never admit it, would refuse to acknowledge it, it did unsettle him, just slightly. That gaze too knowing, too clear.

“Very well, if you can keep it civil you may say your piece, but then Daemon will come with me and I will be sorting him out myself.” There was a hint of a warning to Viserys tone as he addressed the young man staring Daemon down like the Targaryen prince where and open book to his gaze. Daemon should have felt something, should have said something. He should have said he did not need to hear what the bastard’s son had to say. He should have walked away, or even drawn his sword. But he didn’t.

“You know I truly had wanted to give you the benefit of the doubt, convinced Rhaenyra to give you chance to come apologize to her on your own time and terms. Because it wasn’t just His Grace’s wife and son you insulted that day. The late Queen Aemma and Prince Baelon were Rhaenyra’s mother and brother as well. And I could almost forgive you insulting my mother because I know how poorly most regard bastards, even those legitimized. But you have insulted my mother, my future wife’s mother, and haven’t apologized for either. And now you stand here to mock my family again and mock the mother of my niece after difficult labor your antagonistic behaviour induced.” Daemon wanted to deny the accusation, how was the dumb Thornwood chit going into her labors his fault in any way? But he was silenced by a sharp glare from his brother. Though his off hand did flex around the hilt of Darksister.

“You will not receive forgiveness from people you never even bothered to ask to forgive you, let alone apologized to at all. You are not entitled to our goodwill when you offer nothing but insult and injury to us. I have no doubt you will find a way to blame us for all this, you have ever proven your inability to take responsibility for you actions. But for your own sake I hope you learn to stop blaming everyone around you for the consequences of your own actions. Not everyone is your enemy, but the enemies you do have certainly have it easy when you seem to be your own worst enemy and do their work for them.” And with a terrible smugness the Thornwood bastard turns his back to Daemon and makes to enter the chambers he had first emerged from again.

Daemon’s sword hand moves to go the the hilt of Darksister to draw it. The ever insufferably honorable Harrold Westerling puts himself between Daemon and that Thornwood bastard before Daemon could go through with it. Though Daemon would be lying if he said the urge to go through with it anyways wasn’t tempting. He could all but see that smug bastard’s head falling from his body with a clean cut in his mind’s eyes. But Daemon wasn’t the wild beast Otto made him out to be, he would not draw his steel now in front of his brother and prove those who spoke poison hin his brother's ears right, no matter how much he wanted to. He could have some patience, could wait until the time was right.

For surely once his brother was through with scolding him and things had cooled off Daemon would get the chance to put that bastard’s son in his place.

Notes:

Daemon Targaryen. I always found him an interesting character for how flexible he was, what a wild card he is and how for someone who supposedly does whatever he wants in spite of the people around him, he really is shaped by the people around him to a fault. Daemon is someone who seeks validation above all, but he's also his own biggest obstacle to getting said validation. He is also a character who's status as either a protagonist or antagonist entirely depands on the people around him. In Canon he is a protagonist for being with Rhaenyra and the women he does love make him better, but he absolutely had the potential to go the opposite way. And in this fic he is, though I wouldn't say he or anyone will be a flat out villains. I like stories that revolve around people and their complexities, and I have little interest in one dimensional villains.

One thing I noticed is Daemon's aversion to names when he both dislikes and doesn't respect someone, the best example being Alicent. Otto he does insult but still refers to by name offent enough, but Alicent is most often than not reffered to just by insult, which I found interesting. I also noticed who quickly he makes judgements on people and how there's a certain intensity to him when he's in his feels and about to act on it, something he has in common with Aemond. I'm not sure if I really captured it well but he has this interesting blend of perfect lucidity and still being completely ready to just kill a man that's rarely done right in media but Daemon as a character portrays wonderfully. I certainly look forward to writing more of him.

Also for the SI, this is a nice little showcase of a flaw I've been working on recently. I/SI doesn't always need to have the last word and be right, doing so isn't productive in every situation. And while this interaction was never going to go well, my SI absolutely made it worse with that little flaw and letting his need to read Daemon and have the last word override his better sense.

On a slightly less serious note, I have been informed many times in the past, both by friends and even people I don't get along with, that I have some very intense eyes at times that make people kind of unsettled. I recently apparently really made my asshole uncle feel super uncomfy and seeing as one interaction I had with him inspired a previous scene with Daemon, why not take further inspiration from life?

Anyways, the plot will be ramping up a bit from here on out, the ball is rolling and things are gonna start developing at a faster pace, though with plenty of slower moments as well so it doesn't feel like the plot is just constantly hitting you over the head with stuff going on.

Chapter 28: Criston Cole: The proposal made

Summary:

Criston Cole watches as Tobiah and Rhaenyra work together to make their first real move together.

Criston Cole stood tall as Rhaenyra poured wine for the members of the Small Council. Or at least, for the members of the Small Council present. Lord Corlys Velaryon was notably still missing despite the ending of the conflict in the Stepstones. After the excitement of the last few days the absence of the Master of ships was certainly noted. The lack of any ravens or news conveyed in any other manner was taken into consideration. And while Criston was no great mind when it came to politics, he knew as well as anyone else that the Master of ships not returning to court or even sending a congratulatory letter in regards to the betrothal of the princess was not something that could be overlooked. Not without it seeming like the Velaryons were being granted a considerable amount of leeway beyond what would be accepted from any other house anyways.

“Lord Corlys is a proud and ambitious man, two traits that are often in conflict. He is not a fool, but his pride may blind him to good sense for the time being. His pride now is wounded, but I have no doubt that when he and the Princess Rhaenys attend the royal Wedding that things will be smoothed over.” The Lord Hand spoke as Rhaenyra filled his cup, though he paid the Princess herself no mind. Indeed, the Lord hand was looking at Lord Tobiah, who sat in a guest seat, quite intently, though why that was, Criston could not know.

Criston had noticed that since their return from the tour, and since Rhaenyra had announced her intention to marry Lord Tobiah that the Lord Hand had been acting strange. He would stare silently at times, looking to be deep in thought. It had grown noticeable since The feast Celebrating his and Princess Rhaenyra’s betrothal and His Grace posthumously legitimizing Princess Daena. Since the confrontation Between the Thornwood lord and Prince Daemon it had become near uncomfortable in it’s intensity. Criston could not tell exactly what the Lord Hand was thinking, but his thoughts seemed to deep indeed for how often and intensely Criston caught him staring.

“If I may offer my humble opinion on the matter, I think it may be unwise to allow Lord Corlys to stew in his current mood and mindset. While each individual perceived slight might be temporary setbacks and things he would get over in time, I think the rapid fire nature of these perceived slights be enough to sow a seed of something more serious that might grow into something dangerous if left to it’s own devices.” Lord Thornwood did not keep eye contact with the lord hand spoke, simply offering him a nod before turning to address the King. What exactly Lord Tobiah’s station here was was still up for debate, and technically he was only sitting in on the meeting as a guest, but that did not mean he was barred from speaking.

“I must agree with Lord Tobiah. While the Lord Hand is not wrong, Lord Corlys has never before left court like this and for this long, not since his wife was passed over during the great council. Seeing his daughter passed over to be queen, the matter with the stepstones, the legitimization of the late Princess Daena and perhaps even a perceived slight in his son not being considered for Princess Rhaenyra’s hand… He may feel he and his kin have been passed over too often, that his family has been set aside too heavily.” The Master of Laws, Lord Strong, was next to speak. Speaking of the perceived slights that the Master of Ships may perceive to have been made against him. Though Criston did not exactly understand the last two.

How on earth could the late Princess Daena being legitimized be seen as a slight against Lord Corlys and his kin? It was not as though prince Aemon had betrayed Princess Rhaenys’ mother to father Princess Daena, so there was not some terrible lingering hatred or offense there. Mayhaps it was simply the hatred most Westerosi held for bastards and their lowly status for their unfavorable traits. But Princess Daena had proven herself a lady true and to be of equal and even superior character than even some other Princess’ of the blood alive during her time. Where her aunts acted as one would expect from a bastard, she acted with nothing but honor and grace if the tales he had heard were true. So why would Lord Corlys take offense? And more than that, why would anyone else think that he would have any cause to take offense?

The second matter made a little more sense to Criston, but that didn’t mean he truly understood it. Surely Lord Corlys Velaryon understood that Princess Rhaenyra had been given a choice in who she would wed, she had chosen her husband-to-be herself. Ser Laenor had not even put himself forth as a option, nor had his father sent even a letter on his behalf. So what offense could he possibly take with Lord Tobiah being chosen by the princess as her husband-to-be. The choice had absolutely nothing to do with him and his kin. Criston just could not understand why such a thing would cause offense. But even Lord Tobiah himself nodded as though he understood it.

“I am inclined to hope my Hand is correct in his estimation that my Master of Ships will return to court, but I would be remiss to completely disregard the opinion of my Master of Laws and Goodson-to-be. Should Otto be correct then the matter resolves itself. But should Lord Strong and Lord Tobiah be correct, then what? It is one thing to make estimations to the mood and thoughts of my Master of ships, but what is to be done with that knowledge should those guesses be true?” His Grace spoke with a tone Criston knew well, one the King used when he believed a matter to be without good or reasonable answer, or when he deemed the proposal of one of the members of his Small Council to be without much wisdom. Sarcastic would be one way to describe it, but it would not be wholly accurate.

“Actually, about that. Rhaenyra and I have discussed the matter previously, and have an idea that may benefit the crown greatly if implemented correctly. I would disclaim beforehand that the broad strokes and primary structure of the proposed plan is all hers to take credit for, I merely filled in a few gaps. Should your grace be willing to hear us out I believe it is a plan that could benefit the realm in a number of ways, and may solve our current issue with the Master of Ships.” Lord Tobiah speaks up once more, and Criston can see a variety of reactions playing out on the faces of the members of the small council, some seeming almost dismissive, others curious. His Grace raised his brows and looked over his shoulders to where the Princess stood with the pitcher of wine.

The Princess set the wine aside and moved around the table, to where Lord Tobiah was already rising from his seat, offering it to her in an exchange that looked almost rehearsed. As she took her seat her husband to be moved to stand to the right and behind her, so she sat nearer to His Grace than where her husband-to-be stood. Ser Harrold Westerling smiles a knowing smile and leaves Criston wondering if this had in fact been rehearsed when he was not on duty.

Criston knew at the very least that this topic was one which Rhaenyra and Lord Tobiah had spoken about at length, though they often spoke on many topics at length with each other. Lord Tobiah insisting that a mind requires books and discussion as a sword requires oil and a whetstone. Criston had sat through them discussing a multitude of issues in the past, coming up with theoretical solutions and going over potential ramifications. Criston had always seen it as Lord Tobiah trying to nurture Rhaenyra’s natural brilliance, as the man often praised her and her potential to be a great Queen, something he and Criston heartily agreed on. Criston had not realized that these discussions may yet bear fruit and their hypothetical solutions presented to the Small council.

“Your Grace, as you know, the relationship between House Targaryen and House Velaryon is an ancient one, the mothers of both the Conqueror and the Old King were Velaryons. House Velaryon has therefore enjoyed much royal favor. However, when one grows accustomed to a certain degree of favor and privilege, they grow to take it for granted, and desire more. We see this happening now with our Velaryon kin.” Rhaenyra began with a steady voice, though Criston could hear just a hint of wavering before she gained her confidence. She played with her ring before Lord Tobiah placed his hand upon her shoulder, which caused her to straighten her posture and place her hands upon the table.

“Entitlement bred by privilege is to blame for the current mood of our Master of Ships, and so I propose the remedy to be simple responsibility. For all history, the greatest houses had their great wealth and power balanced by the responsibilities they bore. House Velaryon is the first to grow so greatly in wealth and power, and yet not have proportional responsibility to balance out their new means. I believe that giving their house a responsibility proportional to their means, and presenting is as a great honor, is the answer few issues we are currently facing.” As Rhaenyra spoke Criston could hear echoings of Lord Tobiah’s words, his manner of presenting an argument, in Rhaenyra's own words. Though her tone and her habit of speaking in absolutes, forgoing the ‘I believe’ and ‘may’ that Lord Tobiah preferred, was still quite present. Still Criston could see where Lord Tobiah had coached the Princess on how to best present her idea, which still keeping it hers.

“I propose we grant House Velaryon the honor of being Wardens of the Stepstones, and all the responsibility of keeping them free of pirates, and safe for the passage of our ships, that such an honor would entail. There would be restrictions placed on how highly they may toll and tax the waters, officially due to how important they are to trade in Westeros as a whole. My husband-to-be likes to say that ‘Idle hands turn to mischief’ and that allowing powerful men to remain idle is a recipe for disaster. So let us use one problem to solve another, let use use Lord Velaryon’s desire for validation to solve the issue of the Stepstones once and for all. Let us use his ambition to keep the ambitions of others at bay, and him away from his unltimate and overreaching goal.” As Rhaenyra spoke Criston could see the divide appearing within the Small Council, those nodding along as Rhaenyra spoke, and those who still bore dismissive expressions. As with almost all things, it seemed a unanimous opinion was unlikely to form, though in the end only one opinion mattered.

At the center of the growing divide, sat His Grace, who Criston could not guess the thoughts of. The usually expressive King remained passive in his expression, as though waiting for something, as though assesing a performance that was still unfolding.

Notes:

So, a bit of a shorter chapter, but an important one nontheless, this chapter was going to be twice as long as it is now, but I found the 'second half' would work better in a different PoV, and important one we haven't seen yet, so this chapter is a bit shorter, and might feel a bit unfinished, but that's because it's technically the first part of a two parter.

Anyways, I hope you enjoyed the chapter, and I'd love to know what you think. Things are now starting to get underway, moves are being made, plans being written and re-written. The set up portion of the fic is starting to come to an end, the pieces coming to their places as the game is ready to begin. I hope you guys enjoy the chapters to come.

Chapter 29: Otto Hightower: Changed game

Summary:

Otto Hightower has certain opinions on the new royal couple, opinions he soon finds to be incomplete.

DISCLAIMER: The thoughts and feelings written for characters are just that, thoughts and feeling, not every PoV character is on the money with their thoughts and opinions. Otto here is a good example of that. I would hope this is self evident but just in case, no the SI isn't manipulating Rhaenyra and making his ideas look like hers, he is just encouraging her to express her opinions and is using his future knowlegde to flesh them out.

Ser Otto Hightower, Hand of the King and father of the Queen, kept his gaze transfixed on the royal couple-to-be, who had just made their joint proposal. Though Otto did not believe Lord Tobiah when he said the idea was almost entirely Rhaenyra’s own and that he had simply helped ‘fill in the gaps’. He had known Rhaenyra for most her life, knew her moods and temper, how she saw the world. When last she had voiced an opinion on the matter of the Stepstones it had been before she had appointed Ser Criston Cole to the King’s Guard, when she had thought to simply send in all the dragon riders the crown had under its command to burn out the pirates. An idea that proved to be foolish as even with two dragons the campaign had taken a good three years to end.

Otto sees of course how her behavior has changed even in this short while since choosing her husband-to-be, that she seems just a touch more subdued, more willing to listen and consider before she speaks. Otto knows this is nothing but the effect of her fiery nature being tempered by the good influence of having a man by her side, and Otto is sure we will settle even more once she is wed and with child. But Otto also knows the women of House Targaryen to be too spirited for their own good, Otto had seen the fates of the Good King’s daughters play out after all. The women of House Targaryen though far too highly of themselves, thought themselves equal to the men around them. The Princess Rhaenys had thought to become a ruling queen as well.

Indeed, in so far as managing the overly prideful nature of a Targaryen women, Lord Tobiah was doing so good a job as most could hope to do. But Otto saw through this little play of theirs, saw through the lordling whispering into his bride-to-be’s ear and convincing her that his ideas were her own, even allowing her to present them to the Small Council as though she had truly come up with the idea. Otto was sure he would allow her far less leeway once they were wed, but for now he did well to sooth her pride, and used her well as a mouthpiece for his ideas.

The idea itself was not without merit, though Otto did not think it wise. While it would surely tie the every ambitious Corlys Verlaryon down, it would also grant him a degree of legitimacy and influence that would not be wise to give such a man. He had already grown too rich and powerful with nothing but an island, a fleet and the ear of the King, he did not need to also control the Stepstones and all the trade that would pass through them. Indeed it was the sort of plan a young man like Lord Tobiah would come up with, ambitious and eager to solve a problem with another so as to do as much as possible at once. He would have to grow out of that habit in the future. Of course he would never actually be King Consort, Otto was sure of that. Viserys was being stubborn now, but over time his grief would lessen, and he would see sense.

“While not a completely unwise proposal at a glance there could be many unseen consequences to granting Lord Corlys such an honor and such a title. Many argue that the Velaryons have already risen far beyond their station to offer them more may be seen as the Crown granting them even more than their due.” Otto offered his opinion as he often did, wrapped up in the common consensus of others. His grace was rather conscious of what others expected of him. It was why Otto was so sure that Viserys would see sense in time, for it was what the majority would call for in time.

“A loud and minority maybe, but Rhaenyra and I have already floated the idea in our circles and it has been met with overwhelming support. Many see it as a way to put the dragons of house Velaryon, and as house Velaryon and Targaryen are likely to continue to intermarrying it is likely they will have at least one dragon more often than not, to use. That also is another important thing to keep in mind in this regard. Rhaenyra has more to say on the matter.” Lord Tobiah Masterfully redirects the conversation, seeming to rebuff the concern Otto raises and then redirecting to another supporting argument, even moving to allow the princess to speak on the matter, a careful dance that Otto imagines must have been masterfully practiced, even more so than he had first assumed.

Otto had to wonder how thoroughly practiced their proposal was, how many rebuttals and arguments they had prepared to face. It would not serve them in the end. Otto knew he had to nip this in the bud before it could get a chance to take root, before the idea of a new good King Jaehaerys and Queen Alysanne could take root, as Otto had already heard some on the court comparing this new young couple to. No, he had to show they were unprepared, merely playing at good sense and wisdom. For they have practiced, but that could only carry them so far. Otto would simply ask how exactly they had ascertained that it was a ‘loud minority’ that disagreed with their proposal, he would show it to be the lie it was. And even if Lord Tobiah could conjure some response, Otto would take the opportunity to point out that it seems Lord Tobiah is the one responding most and explaining much of the speaking, would imply what some had not realized, that the young man was merely using his bride to be as a useful mouthpiece. Call into the question the pretty image they were working to build.

“Before that, how exactly did you ‘float’ this idea by those at court. Surely we would have heard of this before then? And if not that, then how can you be sure that you were giving the true opinions of those at court, and not simply the answer they thought you wished to hear.” Otto’s words were measured, false curiosity and plenty of real caution lacing his words. It did not matter much what explanation Lord Tobiah managed to conjure, the fact he spoke at all would be enough for Otto to use to his advantage… Or at least so Otto though right up until the moment Rhaenyra responded instead.

“We accounted for that possibility Lord hand, which is why we varied the ways we presented the proposal, both to make it seem as though we were in favor and not, and varied who we asked on the matter. Both those we knew would be in favor of anything we present and those we knew would be critical. Instead of looking only at the yes and no, we looked at how they reasoned their answers to gain a glimpse at how they truly thought and the most common feelings on the matter. And we found a very loud minority who very very against it, mainly due to jealousy, and a far larger and less outspoken majority who were for it, or at least neutral on the matter.” The princess spoke with her head held high, a proud smile making its way to her lips before she remembered herself and stifled it. But it was enough. Otto saw the shift within His Grace’s demeanor, and Otto knew the matter was lost. Even if it wasn’t true, or not as thorough as the princess actually made it out to be, Viserys would simply be so proud of his daughter for doing any sort of due diligence on the matter that he would be far too amenable to the proposal.

“As for why you haven’t heard of this, well that I have no answer for. I know Lord Beesbury, Ser Harrold and the Lord Commander of the city watch, who currently isn’t with us, are all aware of the proposal already. I do have to thank them for being such good sports and not making it overly obvious, I do appreciate the chance to properly present my first proper proposal for the small council with my husband to be.” As the Princess continued she sent a sweet smile the way of Lord Beesbury and Ser Harrold Westerling, Lord beesbury nodding in response and the Lord Commander of the King’s guard even deigning to smile as he nodded in acknowledgement. And Otto has to accept that he had been outplayed.

It was clever, far too clever, to use Rhaenyra’s old reputation as the Realm’s delight, the charm that Otto had thought fading, to support the scheme. But it was a brilliant move on the royal couple to be’s part. Balancing the careful and professional presentation of the proposal with closer that called remind those present of her position, her youth, and to call upon fondness and some nostalgia to make the final push. Most here had watched the princess grow up, and to frame this as an important first in her life, it was clever, and not something Otto had expected. He had been too focused on Lord Tobiah, he had neglected the fact that while lacking true wisdom, the princess was not without some base cleverness.

“And what a fine proposal it is. It does me great pleasure to see you begin to take your future duties so seriously Rhaenyra, to see you truly consider the future of the Realm. We must discuss further how it shall be done, but I do believe this proposal shall do the realm good.” As His Grace bring his hand down on the table with a wide smile, and the Lords gathered murmur in agreement and in good humor, Otto tastes the bitter taste of defeat. He watches as Lord Tobiah softly squeezes the Princess’ shoulder, drawing her attention, he whispers something in her ear and they smile to each other. And Otto finds himself considering the fact that he may have been wrong… Wrong about where his focus should lie.

Otto had been distracted by Daemon’s return, cautioning the king against forgiving his transgressions too easily. But while he was distracted by Daemon, beneath his very nose the game had changed. He would not allow himself to be taken by surprise again.

Notes:

So... This chapter was SUPPOSED to come out really soon after the last one, but then I made the mistake of saying that and the Ao3 gods struck me low. I had wanted to get this chapter out before I went in for surgery, but that got bumped up and there was a complication. Nothing major, I'm okay, just felt out of it longer than was ideal. I do however now refuse to say anything about how soon a chapter may or may not be coming, because really that's just asking for trouble, and by now I should know better.

If you enjoyed the chapter then feel free to share your thoughts, predicitons and ask your questions in the comments. And even if you didn't like the chapter feel free to comment, just know if it boild down to 'I don't like your writing style and story structure' then you're probably just going to get an explaination of why I do it the way I do. But hey, you might hit on something I overlooked and might change in the future, I am not opposed to genuine and constructive criticism.

Anyways, I hope you enjoyed, I wish well to everyone starting their school year, I'm going to go eat Paracetamol like they're candy.

Notes:

Slightly short first chapter, but I just wanted to set everything up. I've re-written this chapter 7 times now, and this is the best I can do. First chapters have never been my strength.

Also a note for future chapters, everyone's chapters will be in the 3rd PoV ecept the SI. This is just a style thing, and isn't and error. So for next chapter you know, SI's chapters are supposed to be in the 1st PoV and it isn't some writing mistake.

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 1 of Those who deserved better