athassprkr
patreon
(EM Vol. 2: A Wandering Melody) Chapter 71: Tense Ripostes
🕑 Added 2025-09-16 14:00:19 +0000 UTCChapter 71: Tense Ripostes
123 AC, Dragonstone
Rhaenyra Targaryen all but ran back to her room, trying to digest her father’s latest whim, one that might as well be a dagger to her back. He was leaving soon, and that meant that Rhaenys’s appointment as his Hand truly was final, and not some kind of test for Rhaenyra, as insulting as that might have been.
She hated these tests, which were nothing more than poor ways for him to emulate his predecessor. It was much like making her his cupbearer in her youth, a test of patience and discipline, he called it. As if pouring wine and staying silent in the company of the Small Council, half of whom obviously showed their distaste for the idea of a woman leading them or even speaking up. Every suggestion she made was met with scorn from the council, a dismissal from Otto Hightower, and her father’s disappointing gaze, claiming that she had failed his test.
Unfortunately, for Rhaenyra, this was no test. Her father truly planned on making one of his greatest opponents, the second most powerful person in the realm, a title that should have belonged to his heir. And now, he would return to the Capital and leave Rhaenyra’s efforts as his heir, as the woman who had saved him, completely unrewarded.
That had been what hurt the most. The King did not trust her and still thought of her as a child.
She poured herself a cup of wine that she downed in a single gulp. Daemon chuckled behind her, having finished bathing after his morning drills, “Drowning your sorrows, Rhaenyra.”
“Father is leaving,” she replied, not even trying to be diplomatic. She was not exactly happy with Daemon at this moment and wasn’t in the mood to pander to his ego.
As she expected, the grin froze on her husband’s face before he nodded solemnly, “I suppose it is time. He has spent more time than he should away from the Capital, especially given that Otto is given free rein and knows that his time as Hand is at a close.”
“Is that all you can say? My father is not planning on inviting either of us back to King’s Landing, just the Velaryons. I don’t have to remind you of Rhaenys’s dislike of us. Giving her free rein over the affairs of the Seven Kingdoms and access to my father without any supervision.”
Daemon scoffed but did not argue with her. The relations with the Velaryons had deteriorated since what happened to Laenor, but that had been a calculated risk. The war on the Stepstones weakened the Velaryons, and without Laena and Vhagar’s might, all that the Velaryons brought to the table was Meleys and their fleet, and given the fact that Rhaenys and Corlys were growing older by the day, the Velaryons were not the threats they once were.
Rhaenyra had risked their wrath, finding her need for an equaliser in the form of Daemon and Caraxes to be more important. In the meantime, she also leashed the Velaryons to her cause by tying the succession of Driftmark to Lucerys and his match to Rhaena. It was a very careful balance that she had cultivated, which her father had destroyed with his impulsiveness, giving a spurned ally too much power at once.
Despite the seriousness of the situation, Daemon shrugged, “Then ensure that they are supervised. With Larys Strong’s death, there is an empty seat in the Small Council. Find a candidate to your liking and have him report to you. I still have loyal men in the City Watch. They should help start a network in the city and make anyone you choose a viable candidate with a small network ready. Expanding that spy network will be up to them, of course, but anyone with the right temperament and intelligence should be able to do it.”
This was a surprisingly good suggestion, one that she did not expect from Daemon. She stiffened when she remembered Daphne Potter’s words. She did not have any representation of her faction in King’s Landing, not officially. She needed a voice, one that would reach her father, especially given the fact that Rhaenys would likely shuffle the members of the Small Council around soon, as most of them were in Otto Hightower’s pocket.
The question remained as to who to nominate. She had a few ideas, but she was leaning towards finding someone from the Vale, someone loyal to her cousin Jeyne Arryn at the very least. The Lady of the Eyrie would want the Vale to gain more influence in court, and she must have a good spy network ready, given that her kin had tried to rebel thrice against her rule.
She hummed and murmured to herself, “I could bring it up to father during dinner. He would like the idea of having more of the realm represented in King’s Landing.”
“I did not know that Viserys was planning on dining with us,” Daemon commented, surprise tainting his voice.
Rhaenyra froze at the reminder of the evening ahead of her before slumping in her seat, “Father has asked for a dinner with everyone to announce his departure from Dragonstone. He also asked me to invite the Potters as thanks for healing Rhaena and Baela.”
Daemon stiffened in his tracks and gave Rhaenyra an incredulous look. They had agreed, both of them, to stay away from the Potters. She still remembered that fateful night, when Daphne Potter had all but threatened her children with that cursed device of hers. The gall of that whore, to threaten her children, the children of the future Queen of the Seven Kingdoms.
She wished she had killed the woman then and there, and she would have if it weren't for Daemon stopping. He was the only reason why she hadn’t burned down the manse, and a part of her hated him for stopping her from eliminating a threat to her children.
Instead, he had spent the entire night ranting about magic and weaving some fantastical tale that she had trouble believing, even though she knew that the Potters were involved in magic in some way. In fact, the man had all but confirmed that he was a sorcerer, but she couldn't believe that any magic user could be capable of what Daemon described.
Sure, magic could be a very powerful force, but it was often tied to blood and sacrifice. There were a few tomes of it in the library, a legacy of old Valyria, and it explained magic as an all-powerful force that could achieve anything with the right sacrifice. However, it took much to achieve anything of note, and something akin to the destruction of Harrenhal was all but considered impossible.
The only thing that she could think of that had magic of this scale was the breaking of the arm of Dorne by the Children of the Forest, and that was just a tale that the savages in the North liked to repeat while worshipping their Weirwood trees.
Of course, a mage could battle and defeat another one. The defeat of the Shadowbinders who attacked Potter could be compared to Daemon defeating seven guards in a fight. He might be skilled at magic, but there were limits, like everything else in the world.
It was far more likely that Daemon, in his rage, had burned the fortress to the ground with Caraxes. It saddened her to know what became of Harwin’s home, but thankfully, he would never get to see it.
Rhaenyra's best guess was that Daemon could have been tricked with some kind of illusion, a much more common form of magic than ‘throwing gems in the air and blowing up the entire fortress’. So far, they still hadn't gotten any results of the investigation of Harrenhal, bar the news of its destruction.
It simply did not make any sense; a man with the kind of power Daemon described would have declared himself king and ruled over the world. The fact that he hadn’t either meant that there was a limit to his power, one that she did not know, or that he wasn’t interested in ruling anyone. In her experience, it was more likely to be the former than the latter. After all, no man would deny the allure of being King.
And so, she had only agreed to stay away from the Potters to not antagonise the true threat, the woman who could destroy her children's lives. She would have made life very difficult for Daemon if it weren't for the pure panic on his face when he spoke of what had happened in Harrenhal. There was truth in his fear of the man, and he obviously thought that he was saving her from something, especially given how emotional he was when his daughters were poisoned. She would have likely acted the same if Jace or Luke were in that position, so she would forgive him graciously for how he treated her.
When the Potters were gone and everything calmed down, she would use this ridiculous story to tease him endlessly. Unfortunately, that could prove to be difficult.
She still believed that Daphne Potter was the bigger threat to her with her device than any magical prowess ever could. The Potters were not invulnerable; nothing was, not even dragons. They were simply some merchants with some talent in sorcery who picked up a few interesting trinkets, one of which could severely hurt Rhaenyra's cause, and yet, she couldn't act recklessly. If they survived any attack, her children would either die or be considered bastards in the eyes of the realm, and she would not allow that.
It didn't help that the device was real. She had tested it with her youngest son, Viserys. I glowed green when she had used it with him, but glowed red when she had discreetly used it with another babe.
If Rhaenys so much as knew of the device’s true nature, she would immediately use it against her. It would have been a masterstroke, weakening both the Blacks and the Greens, for her own power source.
She needed to stop them, and unfortunately, she couldn’t rely on Daemon in any way. He was still too fearful to risk anything regarding the Potters, still convinced by the sorcerer's illusion. The sight of him, his face pale, at the mere mention of sharing a meal with the Potters was proof of that.
Then, as always, whatever he felt turned to anger, “And you did not talk him out of it?”
Rhaenyra rolled her eyes at that, “Have you ever talked my father out of anything he’d set his mind to?”
Daemon scoffed but did not answer. Instead, he looked out of the window and took a few deep breaths. She honestly thought it a sad sight. The mighty Rogue Prince, rider of Caraxes, being terrified at the mention of some thin, short man who barely looked like he could lift a sword, let alone fight with one.
Despite her better judgment, Rhaenyra pushed further, wishing to get it over with, “He wants everyone but the babes to be here, including Rhaena and Baela.”
Her husband had gotten quite protective of his daughters since the attack, refusing to let them out of their rooms until they were fully recovered, even though they looked as hale as they were before the incident. She had heard the girls complaining many times about it, but chose not to push Daemon on the matter. She would have likely been the same had any of her children been hurt in a similar manner.
The Rogue Prince realised that it was also all but a royal command. He looked irritated but controlled himself and instead kept staring out of the window without saying a word.
He did not say anything for a few minutes before muttering, “A dragon is coming.”
It took some time for Rhaenyra to fully realise what he had said and follow his gaze. She could almost see it in the distance, a figure that looked akin to a bird, but was far too large as it got closer to the fortress, a dragon.
Her eyes widened when she recognised its colour and that of the dragon trailing behind it, “He did it.”
She felt Daemon shift behind her, obviously wishing that she’d clarify, but she didn’t say anything, and instead looked at the dragon getting closer.
The dragons circled the fortress twice, their shadows sweeping across the courtyard. Rhaenyra could hear the shouts of the guards. Dragons were not uncommon in Dragonstone, but Vermithor was larger than any other claimed dragon on the island, so the guards could have easily mistaken him for a wild dragon. She had heard rumours that the wild dragon Sheepstealer was around a similar size, so she could understand the confusion.
Daemon leaned forward, focusing on the man on the back of the Bronze Fury, before muttering to himself in disbelief, “Viserys. He finally claimed a dragon. I have spent years trying to convince him, but he was so stubborn after Balerion’s death.”
Rhaenyra saw Vermithor, followed by the riderless Silverwing, fly away into the distance, before turning back to her husband, “I never thought I would see my father atop a dragon. I know he said that he planned on claiming one, and asked me to summon the Dragonkeepers, but I thought they’d talk him out of it. He still only has one arm.”
She expected Daemon to be angry with her for keeping something from him. Again. However, her husband simply burst into delighted laughter. It was unlike anything she had ever seen Daemon do. Oh, he laughed, quite a lot, but not like this. Never like this.
Rhaenyra couldn’t help but stare at him, and even when he stopped laughing, he still had a satisfied smile on his face, “To think after all these years, that he would ride a dragon once more. Perhaps that phoenix tear truly ignited the fire in his veins once more. And Vermithor, too.”
She had dreamed of flying alongside her father for years, but he was strangely resistant to it. Now, Rhaenyra finally could, and yet, she couldn’t help but feel bitter about the affair, no matter how glad she was to see it. The King should be Dragonrider. He should have always had the symbol of their house, the symbol of their strength, available to protect his subjects and kill his enemies. The Seven Kingdoms had forgotten this, and she was the one who arranged it. She was the one who gave him the phoenix tear, who saved him, and yet he had done nothing but spurn her since he came to her island.
The princess turned to Daemon, who was still smiling, and spoke up, “I think Father plans to announce something during dinner.”
Her husband immediately sobered up. “Did he say something to you?”
“No, but I know my father. He would not have arranged for this if he were just planning on stating that he would return to the Capital, nor would he have insisted on inviting the Potters.”
And just like that, whatever happiness he must have felt disappeared from Daemon’s face. She couldn’t exactly blame him. Her father’s announcements rarely benefited him in any way, and recently, if she didn’t know better, she would have said that he wished to undermine her authority at every turn.
She had sent a messenger to the sorcerer’s manse with a sealed invitation. She sincerely hoped that they’d ignore it. Rhaenyra didn’t think anyone with a right mind would refuse a dinner with the King and the royal family, but the Potters were foreign. If they hadn’t claimed it, she would have assumed, given their strange mannerisms.
Rhaenyra was hopeful that it would be the case. After all, the sorcerer had stayed most of her father’s arrival feast, playing with the children, and barely spoke to her father for a few minutes in private. She still didn’t know what Potter said to him, but her father hadn’t been the same afterwards.
Still, she did her duty. She told everyone, including the Velaryons, Alicent, and even her half-siblings, to come to dinner. Her children were extremely excited, especially when Daemon let slip that the Potters would come. They had overheard him when he told Rhaena and Baela. Strangely, the former was just as excited, but the latter seemed stricken for some reason.
Then again, how would they know of what these people represented, that Daphne Potter could destroy their lives in moments, should she wish. All they saw was the eccentric couple who told them jokes and brought them gifts.
And so, hours later, Rhaenyra sat at the table, her eyes occasionally drifting toward the door, hoping that the Potters wouldn’t come.
Of course, her hopes were dashed when Ser Criston opened the door and bowed, “Your Grace.”
The Kingsguard stepped aside, and to her dread, Harry and Daphne Potter entered the room. The man still wore his strange clothing, some kind of long black coat, a white shirt beneath it, black breeches, and some kind of black hat that she had never seen before. Then again, the man seemed to like wearing odd hats.
Daphne Potter, to Rhaenyra’s irritation, looked quite beautiful in an elaborate, yet elegant, dark blue dress that looked like it was made of silk, which would have cost anyone a fortune.
The sorcerer spoke up with a wide smile on his face, “Sorry about that. We didn’t know exactly when we should have come, and I got distracted by a very riveting book I was reading. Anyway, hello everyone.”
His wife gave him an affectionate yet exasperated look before curtsying, “Your Grace.”
The golden-haired woman’s gaze shifted from Viserys to Rhaenyra, with that infuriating smile on her face, and her throat dried, and for the briefest of moments, she could not remember how to breathe. Looking down, she hadn't even noticed her hands clenching around the goblet until her knuckles blanched, the memory of the witch's threat still fresh in her mind.
She could also feel Daemon tense next to her, watching Harry Potter as if he were waiting for the man to attack them at any second.
And of course, the silence was broken by Jace exclaiming loudly, “Did you bring us presents again?”
The sorcerer laughed loudly, and her father followed along, especially when the rest of the children cheered in agreement. She wished to join them, or even pretend to be happy in some way, but she couldn't. After all, what mother could muster a smile at the woman who threatened her children? Looking at them both, Rhaenyra couldn’t help but feel like her suspicions were correct.
It wasn’t Harry Potter that worried her. He disarmed people with a smile and distracted them with stories. But it was his wife who had a knife pointed at her children. She barely spoke when her husband was nearby, but Rhaenyra had seen the truth that lurked beneath her impassive face. She needed to deal with her in some way, but in the meantime, she would let the woman relish in her power over the future Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. She would be patient, but she would have her due, and the Potter woman would one day learn what it meant to threaten a dragon's treasure. When that day inevitably came, there would be fire, and there would be no mercy.
AN: This is a bit of a transitional chapter and a bit of a slow one. It was meant to have the first half of the dinner, but it got away from me, so I pushed the dinner to the next chapter. As I said, this is more of a transition to the dinner, which will have some pretty important consequences, while also showing Rhaenyra being impulsive and thinking that Daemon is exaggerating or was fooled about what happened in Harrenhal, which, given the power of normal mages in Planetos, is kinda understandable. Dragons are sort of like anti-magic weapons, and she feels confident about the magic, but more threatened about the device that could prove her children’s parentage. Essentially, she's ignoring Harry in favour of Daphne, something that I thought would be interesting to explore. As usual, I don’t mind rewriting this depending on your feedback, so please let me know what you think and if you have any suggestions.
Comments
Marius Petrauskas
Nice
Garri Sarkisov
Entitlements and Paranoias are strong with her
