Chapter 49
GAEL TARGARYEN
The Council Meeting ended soon after Galen had offered his plan, and she had been surprised by his assertive approach. The Galen from before would never have suggested things like assassination, nor would he have offered strategies to fight a war, but the Galen in front of her was different.
He was kind still, but the weight that had once pushed down his shoulders was gone. He refused to let his kindness define him, and she felt only proud that he had rebuilt himself just for her.
"This is the first meeting, and I am already tired," she complained as she plopped down on her bed as soon as she entered her room.
"I cannot do this for my entire life," and as Queen she would have to sit in these Council Meetings and see the Lords bicker for years to come, but she knew that she did not have the patience for this.
"I should just let you deal with these idiots," and he was good at it.
Their father had brought him into the Red Keep for this very purpose, for he saw in him a shadow of his father, Barth. Opinions differed about his appointment, but few could argue against his effectiveness.
The only reason her father's rule had been as peaceful and grand as it had been was because of the kind Septon who was both his hand, and his closest confidant. The Old King had hoped to groom Galen into becoming Barth for her brother Baelon, but Daemon's jealousy and cruelty had destroyed all those plans, and the entire realm had suffered greatly for it.
"Of course," Galen answered, but there was jest in his tone as she looked up and saw him smiling as he looked down at her.
"It is a husband's duty to comfort their wife, and if that means that I must suffer at the hands of these fools, then I shall be happy to oblige, my Queen," and her face heated up at the jape, as she silenced him quickly.
"Shut up," and Galen had seen the way the Lords had eyed him, and to all of them, he was a nuisance.
They did not wish to be ruled by Daemon, but these men thought that they could control her. She would not be remiss in saying that a few of them may have even dreamt of sitting their sons on the throne through marriage, and so she had chosen to lie.
She did not care for the throne, and if they were so reluctant to be ruled by her, she would let them go and bend the knee to Daemon and let him burn them all.
"Is that any way of talking to your lord husband?" Galen continued in his teasings.
"I could turn that lie into the truth in a heartbeat," she challenged, and he smiled at her.
"I was told that all girls want a grand wedding for themselves," and she grabbed his arm, and pulled him onto the bed, and he fell down on top of her, and their faces were but inches apart.
"I have grown tired of waiting for you," she whispered, and he smiled, and they had been interrupted once already, and she would not let that happen again.
And so, with that she pulled him down further until they were one, and refused to let go. The years of longing and thirst emptied itself in those moments and minutes turned into hours, and by the time the two of them stopped, they were both hankering for breath as she lay atop his chest.
"I never knew that you had such a side to you," she complained as she looked up at his face, and he gave her a small smile as his hand brushed her hair.
"I have waited half a decade for this," he whispered, and she hesitated before she finally gathered the courage to ask the question.
"Was there no one else?" she asked, and five years was a long time, and she knew well the fickle nature of men and their desires.
"Braavos is rather famous for its courtesans," and he looked down at her.
"I have changed," he said seriously.
"But I am not one to forsake my oaths," and she believed him. She turned towards the window and saw that the Sun had long set, and the night had cast its dark blanket over the skies.
"Neither am I," and then she slid out of the covers and began to pull up her dress.
"Get dressed," she ordered and he simply obliged as he put on his tunic, and she saw him have trouble putting on the shirt with one arm, and could not help but ground her teeth in remorse.
"Let me help," she stepped forward and began to help him, and as they both finished it up.
"May I ask what we are doing?" he questioned, and she finished buttoning up his tunic as she looked up at his face.
"I made two promises to the Council. I have already fulfilled one of them," and her face heated up at that as she was reminded of their strenuous activities from some minutes ago.
"It's time to fulfill the other one," and she saw his eyes widen.
"There is no need to rush this. You deserve a grand wedding. I can deal with those men...."
"I don't need a grand wedding," for there was no one left to celebrate it with her. This war had ripped apart all of her family from her, and she would much rather say her vows rather than wait anymore.
"One mistake cost me five years before. I don't intend to wait now," and so she grabbed him by the arm and walked out of the room. The guards stood outside.
They tried to follow after her but she stopped them nonetheless.
"Stay, we are just going to sept to say our prayers," she ordered, and they stopped at once and the Halls were all empty now, and so they slid past the servants and the grounds until they came upon the Sept.
"Let's go," and she pushed open the doors and she had thought that the Sept would be empty but the second she walked in she saw two people sitting there by the lights, push each other apart hurriedly.
"HAA!" and she heard a small shriek, as she frowned and walked into the sept.
"Who is it?" she asked powerfully, as she walked forward cautiously and wondered if she should have brought any guards with her.
But upon closer inspection, she found the two silhouettes rather familiar, and once she was halfway up to the burning center platform, she recognized the face.
"Rhaenyra," she gasped, and then her eyes turned to the side, and she recognized the other person just as quickly.
"Alicent Hightower," and their faces were flushed, and their dresses were dishevelled and it was obvious to her what they had been doing.
"Your grace," Alicent bowed slowly, as Rhaenyra eyed her nervously while her eyes shifted between them continuously.
"It makes so much sense now," she whispered, and was reminded of how the two of them were always near one another, and how Alicent had come to her to beg her to save Rhaenyra.
She had thought them good friends, but the two of them were more than that.
"Princess," Gael came and gave Rhaenyra a nod before his eyes turned towards Lady Alicent.
"It has been some time, Lady Alicent," and she saw the girl's eyes light up.
"Indeed, Lord Galen," and he was acting as if he had not walked in on a grand conspiracy.
The two of them exchanged glances, for they knew that they could not hide it.
"Please, Aunt Gael. You cannot tell anyon..."
"She won't," and Galen spoke for her.
"Your secret is safe with us," he assured them, and her head snapped towards him.
"You are not surprised," she noticed, and he shook his head.
"I am not," and then he gave the two of them a smile.
"I always knew the two of them were meant for one another," and she was not. But still, such a thing was a great taboo in their times, but it was not entirely uncommon. The Lady Arryn of the vale was said to have a female lover, Jasamine of Redfort if she could recall correctly.
But Rhaenyra was special. She was a princess of the realm, and had a royal womb. That came with duties and with her own illness, the lords would wish to see her wed sooner rather than later.
They would pressure her for it, and though she would never force her to wed someone without her consent, but this. Defending this would not be easy.
But the King had spoken.
"So be it," she began as she stepped forward.
"I shall bless this union, but only as long as you two agree to do something for me first," and the two of them could not agree any faster.
"Anything."
"Anything," and even their words were the same.
"You two shall be the witnesses for our marriage," and now Rhaenyra's eyes widened.
"Marriage," she gasped, and she nodded.
"Aye, we have come here to say our vows...."
.
.
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In another corner of the castle, Otto Hightower sat with the lords of the realm as they discussed their own troubles.
"I was led to believe that she was more docile," one of the men complained to him.
"She is the blood of the dragon. That is as tame as they come," and even if the Princess was not what they had hoped for, they had no other choice but to stand with her.
"Alone we could have managed to exercise some control over her, but with the healer standing beside her, she will not be easy to control," Otto pointed out, and the Lords gathered here now all knew the exact details of his exploits in the Free Cities, and it was all rather damning.
"If we are not careful, she just might be able to finish her father's work, and lessen our influence over our own smallfolk," and none here doubted the Healer's ambition, and he had been wronged by many within the room, and now he had come back more powerful than ever.
His would not be a revenge of Fire and Blood. No.
His revenge would be different, and his ambition could destroy an order that had existed for some thousand years later.
"I share your worries as well, but I believe Daemon remains our more immediate concern," Otto pointed out.
"We must stay our tongues until the war is over, for if Daemon wins this war, then we would all be hanged along with our families," and the threat was real.
"Still, the healer's plan seems solid enough," added another, and Otto nodded.
"Indeed, but we cannot rest easy until Daemon is slain...."
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