Rhaegal Royce it is.
And Rhaegal Targaryen he will be.
Ronan accepted that. Even when it's the same name as that dragon...
Since it was nice enough and had a regal ring to it.
And yeah... with all the effort, pushing, shouting, and the literal stretching of Rhaenyra's body throughout the entire laborious process... he really didn't want to impose on her.
Especially when the whole process took him back to his own traumatic initiation on this world.
Oh... mothers. The birthdays and namedays of their children really are as much of a celebration of themselves.
Then again, they also had Mother's Day.
And on the topic of mothers... how could he have not noticed his own mother colluding with his dear wife about the whole naming thing?
Serves him right for calling the boomerang a boomerang... the frisbee's frisbee... the jenga's jenga... the hula hoop's hula hoop... and all those modern namings he's retained.
He really should have adapted to this medieval Shakespearean world actually... but nah, he didn't want to.
However, he can still adapt to the whims of the two important women of his current life.
Besides, with Rhaegal set to be a Targaryen... the coveted name he wanted would have been wasted.
So, he can give them this one... but he would have his shot on the next.
In any case, what's really important from that point is that he had become a father as well.
Meaning that he had his new set of responsibilities. Since raising a son is no joke. While making the boy into a King is doubly serious.
And Ronan very much didn't want to do a Daemon and dip out...
Which also meant that Lys, Tyrosh, Myr, and the Great Grass Sea can wait... probably...
Especially since he's sent his attack drones in advance. Cause Dragon Simulator is just so addicting for some reason and gaming shouldn't stop even when you're a dad.
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Rhaegal Royce it is.
And Rhaegal Targaryen he shall be.
But such an eventuality does not bode well for Otto, the Hightowers, and their other cohorts.
Which is why even before the birth of the newest Targaryen, he has been doing his utmost to sway matters in their favor.
For the enemy was far too powerful.
To the point that it could be considered despairing.
Five, maybe even 6 dragons, and an unclear number of Krakens... trained to intelligent warfare without direct command.
Through such deplorable tricks and perhaps detestable magic, a strong alliance was crushed.
With Dorne succumbing already while the Triarchy is being loomed over with doom as Otto was churning his thoughts.
However, not all hope was lost.
As the Hand of the King, he still had his sway... and lights of opportunity could still be found amidst the dark storm that Ronan Royce has called forth.
And it just so happens that Viserys has asked for a private audience with himself... which should be the chance for him.
The chance for Otto to connect Dorne to their side and earn the favor of the wealthy Triarchy in this unspoken battle against that bronze.
To expertly fold these very begrudged nations into their Green cause. All that was left was for that crowned man to actually be convinced.
Accordingly, with the Kingsguard opening the doors for him... Otto entered the Council room to greet. "Your Grace."
"Otto." The King somberly replied as he added. "There are many things I wish to discuss with you."
With that, the Hand said. "I am here to serve."
And just as he was about to propose that proposal and appeal mercy for the Free Cities... the King confoundingly said. "Five days."
"I'm sorry, Your Grace?" Otto could only ask.
However, the King just ensued. "Though it was some time ago. The details, they fade in memory."
"My father was a hale and healthy warrior and dragonrider at the peak of his abilities. Jaehaerys named a great royal hunt to celebrate him being named the Hand of the King.
"Less than a year later, my father lay dead. Even when Ser Ryam lasted longer." He reminiscingly added. "Baelon the Brave, rider of Vhagar, heir to the Iron Throne... dead of a burst belly."
"The gods have a dark wit." The King then concluded on a sad note.
With that, Otto could only respond that. "It was a grim day. I recall it all too well."
But the King actually scoffed at that as he intoned. "It was actually a good day for you, was it not? Since my grandsire named you Hand in Baelon's stead."
Despite these unexpected accusations, the slightly trembling Otto still countered that. "That's h-hardly how I viewed it, Your Grace. Since for me... it was a duty."
The King nodded but then said. "You served my grandsire nobly in his final days. You are even the man that taught me how to be King."
To which, Otto accepted. "Oh, you honor me, Your Grace."
"But we go back to five days." The King then somberly circled. "Just five days you went from being another man in Jaehaerys's court, to the second most powerful man in the realm."
"I wonder how long did it take you to choose yourself over your King?!" He decisively questioned.
And Otto could only act baffled by saying. "Your Grace?"
But once again, the King never appeased his confusion. Only veering the topic to another direction.
"I will never recover from Aemma's death." He said. "But Alicent, she took me through the worst of my grief."
"However, she was a calculated distraction. I only now realize how well-calculated it was." The King implied with great regret.
"That is an absurdity!" Otto defended. "The Queen loves you... as I know you love her."
Alas, the King was not swayed as he uttered that. "Your interests no longer align with those of the realm. Your judgment has been compromised, Otto."
"Alicent is now constantly wearing green, trying to rally anyone to whatever thought you have ingrained in her."
"The Dornish party, especially the Martells have sent private letters of complaint. Apparently, you have pestered them enough about that Aliandra girl."
"Worst of all is that you've been harboring dubious intentions with all your back and forth with the Triarchy. Many missives that you have yet to report to me."
The King listed what he knew... and with just these three, he was angry already. "Just what are you planning, Otto?!"
A bit of panic settled into the Hand, but fortunately, he still had his wits with him as he reasoned that. "I have no say in my daughter's clothing of choice or any other choices she's made, Your Grace."
"But for the matters with Dorne, I was simply facilitating a match with the Martell princess and Prince Aegon. To smoothen the strain that this forced unification is standing on."
"As for my supposed plan with the Triarchy, I have none. I was simply sorting their many ravens before you be informed. But as far as I can tell... they are pleading for a truce, Your Grace, and I implore that you agree to them."
"For peace." Otto added last. As it is the word that always appealed to this man.
Alas, the King was not buying it. "I'm no fool, nor am I blind. So, stop playing such tricks on me."
To which, Otto could only sigh. Reasoning that. "A loyal Hand must tell his king a discomforting truth from time to time, Your Grace. If he doesn't... he's failed as a servant."
"You were a faithful servant, Otto... and there was no truth at all to anything you've just said. Only lies." The King judged him so.
Closing in and taking the badge that signified his status as the Hand.
"The crown and the realm both owe you a debt that can never be repaid. But I can no longer trust your judgment."
"From the Queen, Dorne, to the Triarchy... for what? All for young Aegon to sit on the Throne I've designated for his sister?"
The King uttered those words and couldn't be bothered to continue any further... as he just walked away.
Leaving Otto Hightower to stand alone.
To process what just happened.
To wonder where he's done wrong.
To try and accept that he was Hand no more.
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On the other hand, Viserys walked out of the Small Council room with a heavy heart.
It felt as though he'd betrayed a friend... but then he remembered that it was his friend that had betrayed him for a long while now.
Otto just had to go. Given that his ambition contradicts the order that has been set.
To fulfill his promise to Rhaenyra. That she would not be supplanted. With her succession from little Rhaegal and onward to be secured.
With Otto out of the way... perhaps Alicent would also settle her oddness.
As for the supposed strain with Dorne, a political marriage for Aegon need not be done.
For it was clear that the Martells and the Dornish were making their own efforts... like the building of some water gardens.
A thought inspired by the inexplicable phrase that the bards chose to rhyme with "northern wardens" in that song.
To symbolize a dousing of an angered dragon fire and to serve as a mark of their union to the rest of the Seven Kingdoms.
Either way, all can rest easy on that part... while the Triarchy is a different matter that he can approach with the new Hand he was about to appoint.
Then again, Viserys thought it wise to leave it for the master of those Krakens to handle.
For his nephew is said to have his own ideas of those places already. As told to him through those occasional letters from Dragonstone.
A place that he has wanted to visit for a while now.
Oh, how he wished to see the babe and gaze upon the greater delight that the boy should be.
Alas, his duties call for him to be stuck here in King's Landing.
For there were many matters for him to attend to.
On that note, Viserys' thoughts turned to that secret duty that a Targaryen King like him has been tasked to pass down.
With regard to the Conqueror's prophecy. The one birthed from dreams.
And at this point, Viserys did not doubt that Ronan could very well be the Prince... the Prince that was Promised.
Royce he may stay as... but it should be fine.
When one considers that it would be Rhaenyra who would be the Targaryen that was meant to sit on the Throne... whilst her formidable husband vanquishes whatever lurks Beyond the Wall.
To finally conclude the Song of Ice and Fire.