Chapter Text
As a good believer, Otto could not rejoice in the death of an infant. Prince Aerys should not have left like this, dead before he had even lived. But as a good believer, Otto also had to think of the well-being of the kingdom. If at first Old Town was not happy with the Targaryens' decision to conquer the continent, it goes without saying that today, it was an opportunity to shine the light of the Seven on the Kingdom, including on the untamed North that still prayed to the Old Gods.
Prince Viserys, who had become his friend, often came to confide in him about his doubts about Aemma's ability to give him a son. It had taken two and a half years after Rhaenyra's birth for her to become pregnant again. For a prince who desperately needed an heir for this was a long time coming, especially since Princess Gael seemed fertile and ready to give her husband more children, including more princes.
“I mourn Aerys,” Viserys said, staring into his wine cup. “I loved this child already, I would have loved him if he had been a girl, as I love my Rhaenyra. However…”
“You want a son.”
“My brother, who is not even a believer, has already been blessed with a boy, but I have not. Life is unfair.”
“I understand you, my prince,” Otto replied.
“I must have one,” the prince continued fiercely. “You see Otto… I had a dream. In my line, some of us were dreamers, people who could see the future. And I saw him, a boy of my blood wearing a crown. The next King of Westeros comes from me.”
A man with a broken ego who believes he receives omens from the future. Otto could work with that. “I don’t know much about Valyrian magic, but it must mean something, right?”
Viserys smiled, pleased to have convinced him. “Yes, it means I must have a son. That is very important.”
“Does your dream indicate who the mother of this child is?”
“Not really, but if it’s not Aemma, who is it?”
Otto cleared his throat. “I don’t know, I was just thinking… The future is uncertain. You may not be married to Lady Aemma anymore, especially if she doesn’t fulfill her duty by giving you a child or denying you access to her bed.”
The prince gritted his teeth. Baelon had barred him from Aemma’s room as he had after Rhaenyra was born. This time, there was no contraindication from the midwives, but the heir had claimed that she was emotionally fragile.
To be honest, Lord Hightower found it very strange that Prince Baelon was so invested in the young couple’s married life, but these kinds of accusations were too serious. Even if he had incontrovertible proof, the King would not allow his family’s name to be dragged through the mud, and he would certainly be the one to pay the price.
“My daughter, Alicent, is five and ten days old now,” he continued with a proud smile. “Her mother and I raised her to be a good wife. She will have no problem performing her marital duty.”
“She could have been a good wife,” Viserys agreed. “If there was a prince available for marriage, I would have supported her application. A union between her and a Targaryen could have undone the damage done by my great-uncle Maegor.”
It was too easy, the prince was doing half the work for him. “What a pity. If I could wish for one thing, it would be that she finds a man like you.”
“You are too kind, Otto. I am not a perfect man.”
“None of us are. However, you are an exemplary husband.”
“Alicent is charming. Any man would be delighted to have her.”
The man smiled. The seed was planted.
…
“I want it!”
Daemon sighed and smiled at the same time. Rhaenyra, his niece, was a spoiled child. Since her birth, almost nothing has been denied her. And the rare time she was told no, she always knew how to manipulate them to turn this no into a yes.
To distract Aemma, who had been locked in her room since her son’s death, Baelon and Daemon decided to take Gael, Rhaenyra and Little Baelon to King’s Landing. The little princess and her cousin did not hesitate to point out the merchants whenever something interested them and asked - or rather demanded - everything their childish hearts wanted.
“My love,” Aemma said, “you’ve already had lemon cake. Don’t you think that’s enough?”
“One can never have enough lemon cake,” Rhaenyra said confidently, as if it were a general truth.
Baelon glanced at his niece, who relented and bought her daughter a dessert. The prince picked his granddaughter up and they continued their walk. Aemma looked at her uncle with a smile. These past few weeks, he had been the one who supported her through her grief. He felt more like her husband than her own husband. She wanted so badly to hug him and kiss him, but she remembered that they were in public.
The townspeople watched them with great curiosity, because it wasn’t often that they saw so many members of the royal family at once. However, the many guards surrounding them dissuaded anyone from getting too close.
“Sword!”
This time it was Little BAelon who spoke, pointing at a street vendor’s table. Many toys were laid out, attracting the attention of the two toddlers.
“A doll!”
The adults sighed, because they knew how this was going to end. Baelon had set his eyes on a wooden sword and he wanted it. Gael often took him to see Daemon on the training ground and he already wanted to look like his father at his young age. It was with undisguised pleasure that the prince bought the sword for his son, joking with his father that he was already a mini-warrior.
The doll that Rhaenyra loved was made of porcelain, pale, with black hair and blue eyes. She had dozens of them, but no one wanted to say no to her. Eventually, several toys were purchased and the man was delighted, especially since Baelon had paid twice as much as necessary.
Once back at the Red Keep, Rhaenyra asked to see Alysanne, wanting to show her her new doll while Baelon waved his wooden sword around, determined to become as strong as his father.
“They have so much energy,” Gael sighed as he sat down on the ground next to his son.
“We knew the walk wouldn’t be easy. Luckily, our purses were full.” He looked around, his son’s new toys were already scattered everywhere. Then, his eyes fell on the black dragon that was helping to train his rider.
“It seems like Balerion is eager to grow up too,” the princess remarked as she approached her husband.
He just smiled. The past two years had been idyllic. He had a son and a daughter, a wonderful wife, and his relationship with his family had never been better. To Daemon, it was a dream, it was what he had always wanted. Yet he knew that lurking in the shadows, the enemy thrived.
Despite their efforts, Jaehaerys, Daemon, and Baelon had failed to identify the family and/or organization that wanted their family down. It was something that made him nervous, especially since the threat to his father was still there. He continued to have visions of Baelon dying, poisoned by their enemies.
“My love?”
He turned his head to his wife. “I was thinking. What were you saying?”
“I asked you to stay with Baelon, I want to visit Jaehaera.” He nodded and watched Gael leave before deciding to join his son in his training.
…
“Thank you for having me, my prince,” Alicent said with a shy smile.
“The pleasure is all mine, Alicent. Your father and I are friends, but I realized that we never really got to know each other.”
The young woman sat down. She knew what she had to do, her father had explained it to her. Prince Viserys must have fallen under her spell, so much so that he would end up marrying her.
“This is the first time I have been invited by a man as charming as you invite me,” she continued.
“You flatter me, my lady.”
“Your wife probably tells you that often,” the young woman continued, feigning shyness.
The prince sighed. “My relationship with Aemma has been strained lately. Aerys’ death has separated us.”
“May the Prince rest in peace. You will have more children, I am sure.”
“Thank you, Alicent. I hope Aemma will soon be willing to fulfill her marital duty.”
“I do not understand how a woman could abandon her husband like this. At a time when you need her the most.” She glanced at the prince. “If you were my husband, I would stay by your side day and night.”
Viserys, unlike his brother and grandfather, was not a strong advocate of Targaryen exceptionalism. He had no problem with the idea of marrying outside their Valyrian line. Alicent was a beautiful young woman, pious, eager to serve her husband and learn. It was a shame that she was the daughter of a second son, for had she been of a higher rank, she would have made a good marriage.
“Thank you, your words are such a comfort.”
“I only speak the truth, my prince. What is more important than a wife’s duty?”
They continued to talk for a long time before being interrupted by Baelon’s arrival. The prince was surprised to find his son in the company of a young woman, unsupervised.
“Good morrow my prince,” Alicent said, bowing in front of Baelon.
“Good morrow lady Alicent,” he answered, his voice cold.
The silence that followed was tense. The young woman tried to make conversation with the heir to the throne but the man’s cold and abrasive responses caused her to leave.
“You could have made an effort,” Viserys chided. “She meant well.”
“I do not like the idea of you and that woman alone in your chambers. You are a married man and Aemma needs you more than ever now.”
“I need her and she chooses to ignore me and her duty.”
Baelon really wondered where he went wrong with him. “Viserys, surely you can understand why she doesn't want to try for another baby weeks after having a stillbirth, the most traumatic event in her life.”
“I need a son. Listen, I know I sound crazy and insane. However, one day you will understand why I am doing all this.”
Baelon frowned. “Until that day comes, I want you to make an effort with Aemma.”
The possibility that Viserys might be cheating on Aemma, a beautiful, sweet and strong woman filled him with anger. He wanted that woman but couldn’t have her. There was no way he was letting this slide if it was in fact the truth.
Later, when he saw her holding Rhaenyra, the prince thought that life was definitely unfair.