Chapter 31

                                    

                                          
Aemond's death could hardly be celebrated.
With great difficulty, Vhagar flew them back to King's Landing. At least, as close to King's Landing as she'd managed. With the Dragonpit too small for her and her old age keeping her less keen on interacting with the younger dragons, Vhagar had taken to the grassy field on the cliff ever since they returned to take the city. 
It was there that she landed, groaning and flattening herself tiredly on the grass. Daenys and Rolf had done their best to clean and dress her wounds before they left Harrenhal, but Vhagar was too old to recover from such injuries. Daenys knew that she would never fly again, that Vhagar would likely linger here napping and eating what was brought to her until she eventually passed.
Daenys hugged her, pressing her cheek to Vhagar's and singing soft a lullaby her father would sing to her, once sung while they flew together over the city. Vhagar fell asleep, after which Daenys and Rolf descended on foot until they found guards to escort them back to the city on horseback.
King's Landing had taken a turn for the worse since their departure. In a week, two great things had happened that could not be undone. First, she learned from Ser Luthor Largent that Lord Bartimos Celtigar had placed a tax on any child born out of wedlock. While this was sure to replenish the Crown's coffers and rid the Realm of thousands of bastards, Daenys thought it a terrible decision that was already proving perilous.
The smallfolk were angrier than ever, and with Daenys's absence as well as the many passing nicknames that refused to die (Cliff Cunt-Maker, Alyssa the Kinslayer, Rhaenyra the Cruel), the tax had erased all good memories of what Daenys and her daughters had attempted to do to alleviate their suffering.
Even worse, there had been a death in the Red Keep. Ser Luthor briefed them in their carriage that the day after Daenys flew to Harrenhal, Helaena had leapt to her death from her window in Maegor's Holdfast. She'd been impaled on the iron spikes that lined the dry moat below.
There had come much talk immediately after the news broke. The most passed-around rumor at present was that Rhaenyra had had her killed. Daenys had told Ser Luthor of the need to quash such rumors immediately, and he insisted that they had tried to do so already, but Lord Corlys suspected this would not end so easily, not when it was well known that Rhaenyra had Alicent, Helaena, and Jaehaera as her prisoners. 
She knew how easily influenced the smallfolk were. All of them were under the impression that they loved Helaena (and yes, of course, she had been a sweet girl, always loving) even though they had hardly interacted with her. They looked for anyone to blame, and Rhaenyra was that person, no matter that she'd never harmed Helaena before. 
There had been a riot that night, beginning amidst the alleys and wynds of Flea Bottom. Men and women poured from the wine sinks, rat pits, and pot shops by the hundreds, angry, drunken, and afraid. They'd spread through the city shouting for justice for the dead Prince Jaehaerys, for his murdered mother Queen Helaena. Some had even been heard to say that Rhaenyra surely ordered Alyssa to toss her out the window, for Alyssa had already shown no qualms about murdering Daeron.
Carts and wagons had been overturned, shops looted, homes plundered and set afire. Gold Cloaks that attempted to quell the disturbances were set upon and beaten bloody. No one was spared, be of high birth or low. Lords were pelted with rubbish, knights pulled from their saddles. Sailors were unable to return to their ships and fought a pitched battle with the City Watch. It took Ser Luthor and four hundred spears to disperse them.
But by then, the River Gate had been hacked half to pieces and a hundred men were dead or dying, a quarter of them Gold Cloaks. The worst loss– and this, Daenys did lament though she'd never liked the man– was Lord Bartimos Celtigar, whose walled manse had only had six guardsmen and a few hastily-armed servants in its defense. The rioters had come, the dubious defenders had joined them.