Chapter 48
OTTO HIGHTOWER
Otto stood in the Greal Halls of Harrenhall as they sat to discuss the future of their world. The King was dead, and so was the Dowager Queen and now the Velaryons had been burnt.
It was all chaos in the world, and but this was all to be expected. All of it, for a monster now sat the Iron Throne. It was why they had all begged the King to change the succession as his father once had.
Not because they had feared annihilation. No, for death was coming for them all. But for a chance to push it farther along, to not simply burn in dragonfire first. They had smuggled him out of the city, and with Lyonel dead he was one of the few from the King'c Council who still lived.
A formidable political force, one tasked with reigning in their new Queen.
Gael Targaryen. She had been a timid girl. Timid. Quiet. Sweet.
The Winter Child they had dubbed her, for many reasons but she was that no more. The Quiet Princess had bloomed through hardship and pain, and become a full flower.
She sat at the head of the table not because of some written edict of her brother. No, she sat there because she was perhaps the most loved individual in all of the Seven Kingdoms, and without her the Seven Kingdoms would crumble as a whole.
Still, she was naive about politics and they hoped to make some levay there.
"Your grace," he began politely as many eyes within the Council turned towards him for support.
"You are the Queen yes, and so it is your right to sit whomever you desire in your Council," and then his eyes went to the man beside him, the one who posed a threat to them no less severe than Daemon's.
For if the Targaryen Prince offered them a quick death, Galen the Healer offered them a slow and painful death. He had been naive once.
Naive and Kind, and Otto would never fault him for that. But years spent in the Braavosi court had changed the young boy, and while he was still kind he was no longer naive.
There were rumors that he had single handedly caused a rebellion in the Triarchy. The slave cities were burning even now, and he did not know what carnage he would bring to their shores but he had to try and subvert it.
"But, there is a decorum that must be maintained for order," and his words were rather well thought, as he said the rest with his eyes.
The Queen gazed towards the chair to her side, and scoffed.
"A King sits with his Queen, that is the norm," she countered, as she looked him in the eye.
"Galen is your King," and there were many who hoped to postpone her zeal, and then steer her mind in a different direction through the blade of pragmatism.
"He will be once you are we...," and much to his surprise she cut in.
"We are wed," and the whole Council rose at that, as glances were exchanged and stares were given.
It had to be a lie. Had to be. But he could not prove it, and none of them here could antagonise the Queen.
"Really, your grace?" questioned the Master of Coin, Lord Beesbury.
"Indeed," and the Queen did not back down.
"Then you have my soundest congratulations. Even though I do believe that the realm would have much preferred it if you had made a formal announcement," and the Queen shrugged.
"There was no time, and truth is that I am not oblivious to the lack of heirs that we face," and she was being rather succinct, and Otto felt as if he was not facing Gael but the Old King.
The Conciliator they called him, but Jaehaerys Targaryen had bene young once. Young, willful and stubborn. The Queen now reminded him of the tales of that time, as she looked around the table with a narrowed gaze.
Some whispered congratulations in earnest, others hesitated as the Queen's gaze passed over them all. She offered nothing but a smile, until her gaze finally landed on her,
"It seems as if there is some confusion here," she began resolutely.
"I am not much fond of politics, so I will not mince my words and say it as it is," and now she leaned back in her chair as she glanced back at her husband.
"I am your Queen, and I am Gael Targaryen. I am blood of the dragon, and you have sworn your oaths to me and I will respect you and offer you peace and prosperity but only if you do right by your oaths," and she was being rather direct.
"Galen is your King, not the King consort. King," she clarified.
"He will sit the throne beside me, and have all the power assosciated with his title. If you find any fault in my decisions today, I give you leave to go and bow your heads before Daemon and entrust him with your future," and none dared to speak.
She was indeed the Conciliator come again.
"We would dare not object to your decisions, your grace. We were just surprised," Lord Celtigar added as he rubbed his hands.
"If you had told her of your plans we could arranged a ceremony of sorts," and many nodded along.
"i thought it wasteful and excessive given the times," she countered.
"I have no doubt we will have much to celebrate for in the years ahead," and otto nodded.
"Of course, your grace," he added, and so it was time for matters of war.
"So, I believe the most pertinent matter left for us to discuss now is...," and it was the King who spoke now, as he broke his vow of silence.
"...Daemon," and the entire table brustled at the mention of that name and the carnage it promised.
"From the Velaryon accounts, Daemon and his dragon are injured, and through my studies in Braavos I have found the magical creatures slow to heal. He can fly but I have little doubt that he would risk attacking us here specially with the defences we have mounted on our walls," and so they were safe at least for now.
"So we should attack him now, and take advantage of the situation," Lord Celtigar added, and the shook his head.
"I will not puy our Queen's life at risk," and he spoke quickly and firmly.
"Then what are we to do," otto questioned.
"This is war, and Daemon has shown little hesitation to use his dragon for it. I have little doubt that we will face such a junction ourselves sooner or later," and the young man shook his head.
"Daemon knows and that is why he will not stray far from Ceraxes in its condition. He knows that a dragon fight offers little advantage to any. It is a battlefield where he is our equal, and if that battle were to take place over Kingsladning then we would be at a disadvantage," and that was all true.
"Then how do you intend on fighting him?" asked Lord Celtigar with some heat.
"We take out his arms and legs," and that was a strange expression, and perhaps eeing their oblivious faces the Queen chose to intervene at last.
"His two most important generals...."
0000
AEMMA ARRYN
Aemma had been wrong. She had been very wrong. Viserys's death had broken her in a way nothing had, and with him gone all of the joys in her life had vanished.
For years now, Rhaenyra had warned her about her uncle's intentions and yet Aemma had thought it all to be nothing but rumors and stories whispered into her daughter's ears by her naysayers.
But she was wrong. She was so wrong.
She had only ever seen Daemon through his brother's eyes, and his love had blinded her just as it had blinded him.
And now she found herself all alone in this capital, caged in a room as she watched the city outside burn in fire.
"He trusted you," she whispered, and they had tried to smuggle her out of the city as well but Daemon had refused to let go. He had killed her helpers and her maids, and all those who had tried to save her.
"I trusted you," she added as she turned around and saw him standing in her room, with his armor. The blood from the horrors he had committed in Gull Town still clung to his armor, and his face.
"Viserys would strangle you with his bare hands if he were here," and he had the audacity to scoff.
"I could beat my brother with one arm tired behind my back," and he sauntered towards the corner and plopped down on a chair, as she sat there by the window ready for anything.
"You truly have become a demon," and his eyes narrowed.
"You are the ones who turned me into this," and she scoffed.
"Did we ask you to covet your niece as well," and he felt no shame as he shrugged.
"As a King I have a claim to anything I desire," and she closed her eyes, as shame and regret filled her.
"And I desire her," and she felt her entire stomach twist at those words, and what they entailed.
"You are a traitor to your own kin," she lashed out, and he snarled.
"I could say the same thing of you," and she had no answer.
"I am no traitor," and he scoffed.
"We will see about that," and the he rose once more.
"Where is your daughter?" and she shook her head.
"You will never find her," and Daenerys was gone already, and she would be halfway to Harrenhall by now.
Rhaenyra was smarter than she had ever been. She had seen through Daemon's lies, and would offer Danerys far greater protections than she ever could.
"Where is she?" he asked again, yet she held her tongue.
"You will pay for this," Daemon raged.
"All of you," and he was now inches from her face, when suddenly a guard came into the room.
"Your grace, you need to see this," and she could not be more thankful as she saw Daemon grind his teeth.
"I will be back," he said, but by then it would be too late. She had waited to confront him. She had waited to see for herself if he truly was the monster they all made him out to be, or there was still some semblance of the Daemon of the old left in there.
She had tried to searching for it, and yet had found nothing.
"I will be back," but by then it would be too late.
The door closed and Aemma was left all alone once more, as she stared at the city outside, and the darkening skies. She looked to the table for the wine and poured herself glass after glass to gather the courage, for she knew what she must do.
What she had to do.
Daemon had become unhinged. Madness had taken over him.
She would never let that madness touch her daughters. Never.
So, she opened the windows and walked up the chair, until she stood on the edge. Her heart hammered and her body screamed at her to step back, yet she steeled her heart as she resolved herself for her end.
It was a mother's duty to protect her daughters. She had failed in that.
But now.
"I shall never become their weakness," and so she closed her eyes and took a step forward.
BANG!
0000