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(EM Vol. 2: A Wandering Melody) Chapter 69: A King’s Grace
🕑 Added 2025-09-13 14:00:09 +0000 UTCChapter 69: A King’s Grace
123 AC, Dragonstone
Viserys Targaryen had learned much in his stay in Dragonstone. The conversation with the sorcerer had opened his eyes during the first few days on his ancestral island, and he spent most of his time observing his family.
He didn’t regret his trip, not at all. Knowledge of Aegon’s prophecy of the true threat in the North was beyond priceless, which he planned on writing down and securing for his descendants one day, much like Aegon had carved the words of his own prophecy into a dagger. He only needed to find a way that was appropriate enough for such an arduous task. He liked the idea of having it hidden in plain sight, much like Aegon had with the dagger, but then he’d need a pyromancer that he could trust, and unlike his glorious ancestor, he didn’t have that privilege.
Nevertheless, his focus wasn’t on the crisis that wouldn’t come for at least a century, but that of one that he had long dismissed, one that he never thought he’d have to face, and that would occur when he would inevitably die, meaning that he wouldn’t be able to do anything to stop it.
He had very much underestimated the arguments between his eldest daughter and his second wife, and it would have likely destroyed the realm, taking his house’s greatest power with them.
Not once, in his whole life, did he believe his family to be capable of Kinslaying. There was a reason why he trusted Daemon despite his nature, why he forgave him time and time again, despite his dear friend Otto and even Lyonel advising against it, and that was because he knew with absolute surety that his brother would never think of hurting his family. It just never occurred to him that the Greens and the Blacks had stopped considering themselves as members of the same family.
He started to remember a few details, like when Aemond had lost his eye. Despite what most thought, it was just an accident between children, and the ones being punished were the idiots who gave a young boy a live blade. No, what was worrying was how Rhaenyra and Alicent reacted to it all, with Alicent taking a knife to his daughter, and Rhaenyra asking for her newly crippled brother to have his tongue ripped off.
He thought that they were just words of anger, and yet the visions that the sorcerer showed him were proof that they were not.
And so, with his renewed vigour, Viserys found himself observing his family at every event, trying desperately to see something that would make him deny the horrifying sight of the Black and Green dragons killing one another, and yet it still was.
He looked at his family, dining privately with only the company of his Kingsguard, and he could only see hostility.
Rhaenyra had all but ignored Aegon and Helaena during their stay, constantly bickering with Alicent, smirking at her father’s dismissal as his Hand, and glaring at Rhaenys, who replaced him. Although she did seem oddly sedated for a few days, likely due to the attack on young Rhaena and Baela.
Daemon had spent most of his time with Viserys trying to convince him to undo what he had done, while the Sea Snake looked smug enough that the King wanted to regrow his missing arm just to punch him in the face.
Thankfully, the children looked well. Rhaenyra’s oldest boys were growing into bright young men, and he loved them with a passion, but as he looked at Jacaerys’ brown hair and pug nose, he knew that he couldn’t be king. The rumours of his bastardy would forever hound his rule, and half of the lords would undermine every decision he made.
Aegon looked oddly calm, not having drunk a single goblet of wine, likely a sign of being a new father. He hadn’t heard a rumour of his appetites since they came to Dragonstone, but he had a small smile on his face, especially as young Jaehaera released a joyful giggle.
Helaena looked happier than she ever had before, more engaged than ever, at the very least, especially when gently holding her sons. Viserys wasn’t sure who told her of a sorcerer being capable of healing her children being on Dragonstone, but that must have been why she’d been so insistent to come with him and bring her twins with her. A mother often knew when there was something wrong with their children.
That alone made the trip worth it, the fact that his grandchildren would grow nice and healthy thanks to the courtesy of Harry Potter.
Yet, Aegon’s new temperament changed very few things. Daemon would never accept a King with Otto Hightower’s blood, and he was the one more likely to escalate matters. Truthfully, he was surprised that Daemon hadn’t gone and burned King’s Landing to the ground after his children had been poisoned and blamed them on Viserys’s old friend.
He could only thank the gods that Harry and Daphne Potter healed the girls without any issues. Still, the girls being under some kind of cursed poison was troublesome, and the disappearance of Viserys’ Master of Whisperers was rearing its ugly head now. He’d need to find a replacement very soon, which would prove to be a very difficult task. Yet, it barely counted towards what he would need to deal.
Perhaps the gods were just as cruel as they were kind, leading him to Harry Potter so that he would be healed, and yet, making sure that he’d have to face one crisis after another when his new, healthy body. A civil war in the Iron Islands affecting the Westerlands, a second Doom of Valyria terrifying Volantis and most of Essos, and now, Harrenhal. He still did not know what happened to the infamous fortress, only that there were no survivors, and that no dragons were sighted.
He needed to return to King’s Landing soon, but he needed to do one last thing before he would leave his ancestral home. He tilted his head towards his eldest daughter and spoke up, “I wish to speak in private, Rhaenyra.”
His eldest daughter stiffened in surprise but quickly steeled her expression and stood up and followed him to the painted table, his Kingsguard following behind him and guarding the door. Viserys admired the craftsmanship of the infamous table once more, where his ancestor had planned the conquest of the Seven Kingdoms. He thought of the last time he had been in this room, when Harry Potter changed everything that Viserys thought he knew about his reign.
It truly was a wonder how much a single man could change things.
As he stared at the table, he heard a faint cough, which brought him back to the present. He hadn’t noticed his daughter getting increasingly frustrated with every moment of silence. Then again, patience was never Rhaenyra’s greatest strength, even if it was his fault for reminiscing for too long.
She spoke up first, “Why did you wish to speak to me, Father?”
“I plan to return to the Capital soon.”
Viserys carefully observed his daughter’s expressions, which quickly morphed from surprise to relief, “I miss you, Father. When do you plan to leave?”
“A few days at the latest. I haven’t told anyone other than Alicent and Rhaenys.”
Just the mention of his new wife and Hand, made Rhaenyra lose whatever composure she had to anger, “Of course. I was informed last, then?”
“I told Alicent this mourn, when I made that decision.”
“And Rhaenys?” his daughter demanded.
“A few days, at the very least.”
“And yet, you haven’t told me, your heir,” Rhaenyra protested with betrayal in her voice.
Viserys furrowed his eyebrow, “You must have known that I would not stay here forever. I have a realm to govern, and my absence from the Capital, despite my miraculous recovery, has given way to instability in the Seven Kingdoms. The Iron Islands and now, Harrenhal, and a vital member of my Small Council had all but disappeared, even if he were already injured. The King must rule, and he must do so in his place of power, and that is not here, daughter.”
And yet, if he expected logic to convince his daughter, he was proven to be mistaken once more, “Is that what she told you, Father? Rhaenys wished her perceived birthright as the Queen Who Never Was. She is hasty to take over, rule in everything but name. She knows that you do not trust me and seeks to build a wedge between us.”
That was completely wrong. Viserys knew that Rhaenys did not wish to leave Dragonstone, especially after the attack on her granddaughters, and yet, had agreed to go with him to the Capital to take up her post as his Hand, all for the good of the realm. Corlys had even planned to stay and go to the Capital like Viserys had expected, to keep an eye on his granddaughters.
If he guessed correctly, the Sea Snake realised Rhaenys’ desire to make one of their granddaughters the Lady of Driftmark, and he wished to teach them the intricacies of what that meant.
He should have likely done this with Rhaenyra. Perhaps, things wouldn’t have spiralled like they had if they had. He did let her attend Small Council meetings as his cupbearer, much like he had when he was younger. He thought that it was enough to rule, but perhaps he was mistaken. He had made many mistakes, and so had his daughter.
Of course, Rhaenyra continued, “I should have been your Hand, like your father was to the Conciliator. You’ve always said that he would have been a great King, and I could be the same, if only you grant me a chance.”
But hadn’t he given her a chance? Rhaenyra had made so many missteps, one after another. He couldn’t deny it anymore. He had been kind, too kind. Jaehaerys would have sent her to the Silent Sisters a dozen times over, and Viserys realised that he had ignored much for the idea of Aemma’s child to sit on the Iron Throne, a way to honour the woman that he had all but killed.
Oh, what would Aemma say if she looked at him now?
Rhaenyra had once been the brightest flame in his life, the final memory of Aemma’s smile. And yet, now, he couldn't forget the visions that Potter had shown him. He looked at her and could only see the storm he had failed to stop. He wondered if Aemma would curse him if she saw her, how much he had failed her, how much he would fail her.
Alas, he couldn’t justify it anymore. Rhaenyra would not make a good Queen. He could see it now. A part of Viserys regretted the way he planned on betraying his daughter, but he needed to do it, for the realm, for Aegon’s dream.
It was what the Conciliator would have done, and now, it was time to open his eyes and focus on what was better for the Seven Kingdoms.
If only his daughter’s happiness hadn’t been the price. Then again, he had just dismissed Otto, one of his oldest friends, from his side for the same reason. The man was dutiful and brilliant, but the sorcerer had been right, Rhaenyra had been right; he was too biased towards one side of the divide.
Still, back to the conversation at hand, he replied to Rhaenyra’s statement, “Rhaenyra, what would you think would happen if I appoint you to King’s Landing, a court that you have been absent from for years? I will not turn my court into a battlefield, not when we’re facing one crisis after another. You must realise what your presence in King’s Landing will cause.”
“I only wish that they respect me as your heir; to refuse would be tantamount to treason. With Otto Hightower back to Oldtown, they will follow whoever you desire, Father.”
She truly did not understand it, did she? Then again, Daemon was the same; his view of the world was often simple, of allies and enemies, and it was one of the main reasons he had supplanted him as his heir.
Why couldn’t she have been akin to Rhaenys?
Speaking with her in the last few weeks had shown him how well of a Queen she could have been. Then again, age and her children’s deaths had done much to stifle her ambitions of a crown, and she was a perfect middle ground, hoping to help him solve the coming crisis before it even began.
Perhaps, the realm would have been better off if Rhaenys had won that Great Council. It wasn’t a new thought, but seeing her plan out how to deal with the Iron Islands and mitigate the impact of the war on the rest of the Seven Kingdoms had impressed him.
She seemed inclined towards choosing a single house, Harlaw, who had stayed out of the civil war completely, and protected its islands, and having them wait out the war, while making a partnership with the Lannisters towards growing the mining industry on the isles, as well as a series of shipyards. Turning people who only wished to raid, into the heart of Westeros’ supply of iron and ships, making the best out of a civil war, especially as faith in the Drowned God was quickly dwindling as the war progressed.
Harrenhal still posed a problem, but he had arranged for the neighbouring lords to inspect the rubble and speak to any of the nearby villages, hoping to realise what had happened. This was already troublesome, as he had planned on using the giant fortress for the next Great Council, but there were other candidates.
He wished Potter had been there to offer clarity once more. But these were his decisions to make, for better or worse.
His thoughts were interrupted by his daughter’s tirade, which finally ended. He hadn’t even noticed that she continued speaking to him in the meantime, “Rhaenyra, I understand your plight, I truly do. However, your presence in King’s Landing will inflame tensions that I would rather ease. If you wait a few years, when everything is settled with Rhaenys, we could invite you back to the Capital, and I would grant you a place in my Small Council, perhaps even Rhaenys’ position as Hand.”
“And when would it end? Do you truly think that Rhaenys would let go of what she thinks has been denied to her for decades? There will only be some crisis in the Seven Kingdoms, Father. You would have me wait for a day that might never come?”
“Then do not wait idly. Prove yourself. Bridge the divide. Your return depends on the tensions inside my court. The faster you can mend relations with them, the quicker I can invite you back to the Capital.”
This was a peace offering, a small compromise at that, which was refused vehemently, “I will not prostrate myself in front of Lords, begging for my right as your heir.”
“Then you will remain here until Rhaenys and I finish settling the court enough that your return would be well-received.” He concluded, “As much as I wish to see you more, daughter, I will not do so in the realm’s expense.”
She blinked, her shoulders stiffening. For a moment, just a heartbeat, he thought she might cry. But instead, her voice came cold, “I healed you, Father. I brought you a miracle from foreign shores, flew in the middle of the night, and healed you when not even the Citadel could. And yet, you dismiss me so readily.”
Viserys couldn’t bring himself to tell her that she had flown across the world not to save her father, but to dance on strings someone else had pulled. The Potters could have easily poisoned him or put him under some sort of spell, but Harry Potter wished for Viserys to live, wished to stop the coming war, despite not being interested in the inner politics of Westeros.
He could have said much that it was her duty to save her father and King, that he would have done the same for her, that a solution appeared in her lap without her own efforts. Instead, he spoke up clearly, “My decision is final, Rhaenyra, and I did not bring you here to argue with you.”
Rhaenyra gritted her teeth and looked away. “Then why have you asked to speak with me?”
“There are certain things that I wish to accomplish before leaving this island, something that you, as the Princess of Dragonstone, should be able to help with.”
He frowned subtly but asked, “Dragonstone is yours just as much as it is mine, Father. What do you require?”
“I wish for you to send a message to the Potters, inviting them to dine with us tonight.”
For some reason, his daughter paled, “The Potters, as in both of them.”
“It would be discourteous to only invite the husband, after all. And they did perform a very impressive feat for my family by saving Daemon’s daughters, and they should be suitably rewarded. There are also matters that I wish to bring up to them, but that will be a private matter,” He replied, ignoring Rhaenyra’s reactions.
As expected, the idea of being excluded wasn’t one that Rhaenyra liked, but instead of anger, he realised that she was afraid instead. After a few seconds, she controlled her expressions and nodded, “It will be done, Father. Is there anything else?”
“Yes. I also wish for you to summon your Dragonkeepers.”
“May I ask why?”
A soft smile grew on the King’s face, and he replied with a soft voice, “I have gained a new chance at life, reborn, in a way. And I thought it was time for me to finally ride a dragon once more.”
For the first time since the conversation began, Rhaenyra’s jaw dropped. Despite the seriousness of the situation, he couldn’t help but chuckle at the expression on her face.
AN: This is a bit of an interlude chapter. I wanted to show how Viserys progressed a bit, slowly observing everything around him without Harry being there to guide his thoughts. There are still a few delusions about the world, but he became more critical of Rhaenyra, especially with Rhaenys not mincing her words. Don’t worry, you’ll see Harry in the next chapter. I don’t know if it came out like I wanted it to, but I don’t mind rewriting this chapter depending on your feedback. As usual, please let me know what you think and if you have any suggestions.
Comments
TyrantGod
Viserys and Vermithor. Dude should inquire more. When is Helena dropping her roadtrip bomb on her family. Can’t wait for the reactions? Ideally Viserys should marry Aemond and Baela make them the heirs to the throne and train them with help of Rhaenys. It will be a good growing up arc for both characters.
Monzter E
Good viserys. Be firm
