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(EM Vol. 2: A Wandering Melody) Chapter 68: Scarlet Demands
🕑 Added 2025-09-11 14:00:06 +0000 UTCChapter 68: Scarlet Demands
123 AC, Dragonstone
And now, Rhaenyra had likely gone to confront the Potters once more, which meant that Daemon needed to stop her. Fuck! Would this day ever end?
Rhaenyra Targaryen felt like she was a guest in her own home. She’d let herself become complacent. It had only taken her father visiting to realise that he did not respect her, his eldest daughter, his heir, in her own place of power. She had been relegated to a host, at best, while he and Rhaenys spoke to one another in secret, obviously speaking of plans for the future, one that did not involve her, the heir to the throne, and the woman who saved his life in the first place.
She could have kept the Phoenix Tear to herself, a living miracle that most would empty their coffers to obtain, and yet she had given it away for her love of her father, for the realm’s stability. This wasn’t some exaggeration; the princess had received hundreds of messages which started when her father arrived in Dragonstone, each one offering more than the last, a collector in Pentos had even offered her three Valyrian Steel blades for the tear, supposedly to heal his daughter.
This single tear could have bought her an army and support from men who looked down on her. The most disturbing one belonged to a Braavosi merchant, who promised to hire the Faceless Men to kill five people that she would have desired. It was clear who he meant by it, Otto, Alicent, Aegon, Aemond, and Daeron. They had offered her the throne on a silver platter, and a part of her would have been tempted to take it if she still had access to it. But that didn’t matter; she had used it on her father, used it for her love for him.
And how was that love repaid? He ignored her in her own home, spent his time daydreaming about the sorcerer who healed him, muttering about Aegon’s prophecy, and named someone else Hand.
She understood now why her father had seemed to be wary of the Velaryons when she was younger. She had first thought it odd, as they were the dragon’s blood. She thought them her allies in the fight against the Greens, but now, she understood why he had fought so much to curb their influence.
Rhaenys was as devious as Otto and knew how to play him just as much, and she, too, was pushing Rhaenyra away from Viserys and her rightful place on the throne. The question was why?
After all, the Velaryons might dislike her for the unpleasantness with Laenor or their children’s true parentage, but she was still the only viable option. Giving the crown to Aegon would end in the Hightower taking over the Seven Kingdoms, something that they also obviously wished to avoid.
Something was brewing, something that she knew she wouldn’t like, something that would threaten her rightful place on the Iron Throne.
It was maddening that she didn’t know what it was.
Rhaenyra had hoped that Potter would help her once more. After all, he had helped remove much of the Hightower’s influence and allowed her to heal her father. Truthfully, only a single one of these tears could give her many more options. She still hadn’t replied to any of the offers, claiming that she had used the only Phoenix Tear, as this much demand did give her leverage. Alas, he didn’t seem interested in helping her.
She was done waiting for her father to explain himself, done with Rhaenys’ smug looks, done with Harry Potter’s condescending voice, which judged her for every action she had taken or hadn’t taken. Unfortunately, they did not get to finish their conversation, as Daemon interrupted them with the news that his daughters had been poisoned by magic.
By the time she returned to the fortress and convinced her sons to go to sleep, Rhaena and Baela were healed, and the sorcerer was gone, leaving only his wife, who had ignored her and focused on the children.
Out of respect, she decided not to say anything, especially with the Velaryons standing so closely, but her patience was quickly running out, especially when Daemon yelled at her when she asked for the sorcerer.
He was her husband, and she chose to marry him so that he would become her greatest rock, her greatest ally. She had tied her claim to his own, all but telling him that she would ensure that one of his daughters would be Jace’s Queen, while the other would be the Lady of Driftmark.
He was supposed to be her greatest supporter, a man who disliked the Velaryons gaining as much influence as they had as well, and yet, when she spoke to him, he yelled at her and fucked off to Harrenhal to avenge his daughters, or something of the like.
And just like that, Rhaenyra realised how utterly alone she felt. The Velaryons were turning her father against her, Alicent had abandoned her long ago, and Daemon chose his lust for battle and revenge over aiding her.
Everyone wished to force her hands, but it was time for them to learn why that was a bad idea. She would not stand around uselessly like her father would have. She would confront her problems directly.
Now was the time for action, and if that meant that she would have to force the Potters’ hands, then they brought it on themselves, not supporting the rightful heir to the Seven Kingdoms.
She would do so by targeting the weak point, the sorcerer’s wife.
The golden-haired woman had all but remained beside Daemon’s girls, too close to the Velaryons for her to make a move. It had gotten too late for her to wait, and so, she returned to her chambers and asked a servant to keep an eye on the woman, informing her of the woman's leaving.
She had ended up being woken later by that same servant, who unfortunately claimed that the woman had all but disappeared. A part of her wished to punish the useless man, but Rhaenyra was a merciful woman and let them go. After all, she knew that the woman had likely gone home.
She quickly took Syrax in a flight and landed in front of the familiar manse, only this time, there was no one outside. She walked up and commanded Syrax to roar behind her. Seconds later, Daphne Potter opened the door with a smile on her face, completely unperturbed by Rhaenyra’s attempt at intimidating her, “Princess Rhaenyra. I wasn’t expecting you. Did something happen to the girls? I haven’t detected anything.”
“Oh, no, the girls are fine,” Rhaenyra answered, feeling slightly embarrassed at the fact that she hadn’t considered this avenue, “This visit is of a personal nature, I’m afraid. I was in the middle of a conversation with your husband before the news of Rhaena and Baela’s afflictions was known to us, so we never had the opportunity to finish it appropriately.”
“Huh,” the golden-haired woman replied, “I’m afraid that Harry isn’t available at this moment. I’m sure he would be able to see you in the morning if you wish.”
“Perhaps, but given the opportunity, I wish to speak with you as well. After all, behind every powerful man is a formidable wife supporting him, and while we haven’t spoken much to one another, you did give the impression that your husband’s success is very much your own as well.”
Rhaenyra knew that she was exaggerating, but given the conversation they had when the Potters first set foot on Dragonstone, Daphne Potter understood her husband and could influence his decisions. A little praise was a small price to pay to at least start the conversation.
The woman in question raised an elegant eyebrow but still let her enter. Rhaenyra realised that this was the first time she had ever set foot in the sorcerer’s home and couldn’t help but be impressed by most of it. If she could describe it in a single sentence, it would be ‘comfortable luxury’. Everything looked well-made, and the decorations were sparse, at least compared to those of a noble house. Instead, there were glass cases with certain items inside, most of which looked very foreign, but she did see a few paintings that looked almost life-like.
She hadn’t had the time to observe them all before she was escorted to a beautiful room with two cups of tea on an ornate wooden table. Rhaenyra sat on one of the chairs and sighed in contentment at the comfort she felt before she looked up and stared at the painting hung on the wall in front of her.
It was that of a giant castle made of white marble and gold, too great to be made with human hands. It looked like a small paradise, or what Highgarden wished it could be. She couldn’t help but stare at it, and Daphne Potter stopped in her tracks, “Ah, the Gardens of Avalon, born of my husband’s memories.”
“It’s beautiful,” the princess murmured.
“Quite. Yet, it is, by far, one of the worst places that Harry had ever been, a cruel place in which he suffered terribly. He likes to use it as a reminder of what can lie underneath beauty, and the dangers of Time, and his love for me. But you did not come so late at night to discuss my husband’s adventurous youth.”
Rhaenyra steeled herself and decided to be direct with the woman, “I will not mince my words, but you likely know of the difficulties I face as a woman, being named the heir of the Iron Throne. Despite my father's insistence that I am, he kept undermining me. Your husband had done me a great kindness in convincing my father to remove Otto Hightower as hand, but all that Rhaenys’ appointment in his stead did was replace one political opponent with another, given the dislike she has of me.”
Once more, the woman before her did not meaningfully react in any way beyond giving her a silent nod. The princess wished that she could have garnered any form of response, be it sympathy or annoyance, where she could tailor the rest of the conversation towards, but she still pushed forward, “Your husband has my father’s ear, in a way that I, frustratingly, do not. No matter what I do, I will not have the respect afforded to a man, even in my father’s eyes. Given this limitation, I wished for your husband’s aid in his support to name me as Hand of the King, to help secure my reign and start pushing certain policies that would help women across the Seven Kingdoms.”
The sorcerer’s wife, once more, raised an unimpressed eyebrow, “You wish for me to convince my husband to involve himself in your politics to push you to cement your faction’s position and power, my husband, who has done much to avoid politics since his youth.”
“Like it or not, he is involved in our politics. He lives on my island, has healed the king and advised him to hurt a major faction in Westeros. If the Greens could have, they would have killed him for simply being capable of magic. They do not understand, not like us, the true children of Valyria, that magic is as much our legacy as dragons are.”
“Tell me, then. Have you implemented these policies on Dragonstone?”
That brought Rhaenyra short, and the woman continued, “You’re the Lady of this island, right? You can push laws and rules for its inhabitants without needing the crown’s support. So, why haven’t you done so?”
The princess of Dragonstone tried to think of some way to shift the blame on this: “The Greens would have tried to stifle any progress I made on the island. They have spies, and I would receive words to undo any changes that I make.”
“You said that the Greens are in decline at this moment. So, why not change things now?”
“I currently have the opportunity to help women in all of Westeros, not just my island. Why shouldn’t I grasp it?”
Daphne Potter gave her a disappointed look, “Look, you followed me home in the middle of the night, and I spent the last few hours making sure that there wouldn’t be complications in the girls’ healing, something that isn’t exactly riveting. I’m too tired to be subtle, and I’m done pretending that I care, especially since every word you’ve said so far is making me want to send you out and go to sleep. So, here it goes.”
Rhaenyra looked at the woman in shock as she continued, “Harry would have refused you, even if you were the Conciliator reborn, so do not take it personally. He is simply uninterested in politics in general, let alone that of a land he doesn’t care about. But even if he was, you have proven time and time again that you are a woman of words, not of actions. You’re not a viable choice to back, and I don’t disagree with him.”
The Princess could feel her face redden in anger, “I am a far better candidate than Aegon.”
“Maybe, but again, we don’t care. This isn’t our land. This is our vacation, a little holiday treat, before we inevitably leave.”
“You would leave millions to suffer under an unjust king? You would let women in an entire continent become nothing more than broodmares, tasked only with siring their husbands’ children.”
The golden-haired woman, as composed as ever, nodded, “The smallfolk’s treatment from nobility and royalty in this continent is abhorrent. Should we topple over this feudalistic system because of this injustice?”
“That is not the same,” Rhaenyra protested.
“Is it not? Where we live, you would be hard-pressed to see people treated like you do your smallfolk. You would have been considered a cruel savage woman, at the very least.”
“But I could change that. We could change that if you become my advisor. If I were Hand, I could put you on the Small Council and we could show the rest of Westeros about the wonders that you have seen in your travels and make the Seven Kingdoms a better place for everyone.”
Unfortunately, that didn’t impress the woman, “You don’t even see the problem. Even now, you kept talking about what you would do, and not about anything that you achieved. Looking at your actions, your track record is very bad, siring three obvious bastards, and having all but let your opponents have free rein over the Court. Did you even leave a representative, or an advisor, in the Small Council? Did you consider the instability you would bring with your reign, with your firstborn son with Daemon, rebelling against Jacaerys or how you would handle it? You don’t need to answer; I know that you didn’t.”
“I could fix it when I am Queen,” Rhaenyra protested.
“That’s the thing, Rhaenyra of House Targaryen. You never needed to be Queen or Hand to do most of this. My answer is final, as is my husband’s. There is nothing that could change our minds.”
“Then the protection I offered you since coming to this island will be null and void. Men across the Seven Kingdoms and beyond have asked for the source of my father’s miraculous recovery. Rumours spread of you and your husband, but so far, I have personally protected you from their interest, and a Dragonlord’s protection is no cheap thing. Should you and your husband refuse to support my interests, then I will let interested parties know that you no longer have this protection.”
She hadn’t wanted to resort to this, to threaten the Potters, but they left her no other choice. Truthfully, she had lost her temper; the woman’s words were far more cutting than even Alicent’s, who had often alluded to the fact that she was nothing more than a whore. Still, the woman’s vision that nobility was just as flawed, if not more so, than how women were treated in Westeros, was a very dangerous sentiment, one that she could not afford to spread. It was a frightening thing indeed.
Harry Potter was a mighty man, having slain seven Shadowbinders at once, but even he could not suffer the attention of two continents that wished to use him for their own interests. He could not be alert at all times, watching his every meal and drink. She knew that Daphne Potter would see sense, that this was no way to live, even if they could.
However, the fear she expected to see on the woman’s face did not show. “You know, I spent years slowly making sure that Harry would have some peace. He’d had a difficult childhood, and he did so much for me that I couldn’t help but repay him. It took so many adventures for him to let loose a bit and finally enjoy our lives. Still, he rather likes this realm. It’s not easy to have such a difficult puzzle for him to solve. He always likes that, solving puzzles. Do you know why he gave you that Phoenix tear? It’s a very rare and precious thing, even for us.”
Rhaenyra didn’t know where the woman was going, and so, she stayed silent. The woman continued, “He did it because he wanted to take his time exploring the realm, and your little pissing match with the Hightowers would have made things inconvenient. I know him, and he’d have felt inclined to interfere, and he decided to nip this thing in the bud, where you’d go back to killing each other after a few decades. By that time, we’d be gone, and it wouldn’t be our problem, not anymore.”
The princess couldn’t help but feel surprised at how casual her tone was, given the severity of the words spoken, “You saved my father because his death would have been inconvenient?”
“Much like your ill-though threat is inconvenient,” the woman nodded before throwing a small disk to Rhaenyra, which she immediately caught.
It was made of a silvery metal, paler than silver in some way, and had two thumb-sized holes. Odd symbols were carved all over it, ones that Rhaenyra did not recognise. “What is this?”
“It’s the consequences of your decision. This little device lets you test the parentage of anyone. You only need to put a single drop of blood in each hole, and it would glow green if they’re related, and red if they’re not. It works up to recognising grandparents, even. Quite a nifty thing, isn’t it?”
Rhaenyra stopped in her tracks; whatever resigned confidence she felt at the Potters accepting her offers had disappeared, and it wasn’t hard to hear the threat in the woman’s words. This device could provide truth, undeniable truth, of her eldest children’s parentage. Rhaenys could use this to show that they were not her grandchildren, and even her father would not be able to refute it.
Her face had gone pale, and she opened her mouth, as if trying to speak, only for no sound to come out. The golden-haired woman looked very satisfied with her decision, “Why don’t you keep this, as a gift, of course. You have been such a gracious host so far, and we already have a few of them here. Do you need me to escort you out? It’s getting late and I am rather tired.”
The next Queen of the Seven Kingdoms walked, her limbs stiff, towards the exit of the manse and saw Syrax being agitated, likely by Rhaenyra’s own feelings. She looked at the dragon, at the smirking woman, and couldn’t help but think that she was a far greater threat to her and her children than Alicent ever was.
Her darling Syrax saw her anger and raised her neck, ready to dispose of the threat, only for the familiar roar of Caraxes to distract them both, and for the familiar Red Wyrm to land next to them.
Her husband easily dismounted and looked towards Syrax, Rhaenyra, then the manse, where Daphne Potter looked completely unconcerned. She expected that he’d help her, only to bow towards the witch, “I apologise for my wife visiting your manse unannounced in the middle of the night. She was rather distraught about what happened to my daughters. Thank you for ensuring their safety, and please give my regards to your husband, Lady Daphne.”
Rhaenyra stared at Daemon in shock. She had never seen him speak to anyone like this, not even the King. She turned to him, trying to understand, only to freeze as she saw him grasp her arm painfully while murmuring to her harshly, “Do you have any fucking idea what you could have done?”
“Let go of me, Daemon.”
The man looked at her hand and let go, “Get on Syrax and head back to the fortress. We will speak in the privacy of our chambers, and you will tell me every single word you said to the Potters.”
She wished to argue, but something in Daemon’s gaze stopped her, and she simply nodded. Rhaenyra climbed on Syrax and flew back to her seat of power. She would explain everything to him, and he would see her point of how the Potters could be a threat to her rule. Her dragon soared into the sky, the metallic disk feeling heavy in her hands.
AN: That chapter got away from me a bit. The idea was to show Rhaenyra failed (very catastrophically) to get the Potters to support her, and getting angry enough to threaten them with it also did not work. I also wanted to show Daemon just wanting to get the whole thing done with, and still being scared shitless of Harry, or even just this wife. I also wanted Daphne to have a slightly bigger role, while also being a bit more ruthless, a contrast to Harry, who likes to outsmart people. As usual, I don’t mind rewriting this chapter depending on your feedback, so please let me know what you think and if you have any suggestions.
Comments
franfran
What's the saying "don't throw stones if you live in a glass house." Looking at you Rhaenyra 👀
RiceMan
MORE!
FireKing500
Loved how you have Daphne as being to ruthless in the political arena as she grew up in the pure blood circles while Harry is like Dumbledore in terms of power and his care of politics. Daphne is the one who takes care from the shadows and Harry is like you have annoyed me so and now you find out (FOFA).
