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(EM Vol. 2: A Wandering Melody) Chapter 15: Waking Up
🕑 Added 2025-06-10 14:00:12 +0000 UTCChapter 15: Waking Up
123 AC, Dragonstone
“Of course you can,” the man replied, “The future is always in flux, always changing from one choice to another. Prophecies are not absolute, visions even less so.” “How?” Viserys practically begged. “Well, for one, you can start by being a better king,” Harry Potter replied in a neutral tone.
It took Viserys a good few seconds to grasp the man’s statement fully. Never, in all his years as King, had he been told that he could be doing better, that he’d been doing a poor job in his governance of the Seven Kingdoms. He had secured the peace that his grandfather had fought to bring. Other than the issues at the Stepstones, his reign had been remarkably peaceful.
Not one person would ever dare to say that his actions were wanting. A part of him wanted to lash out. A part of him wished to exclaim at the sorcerer before him, especially given the feat of magic that he had just experienced, and yet, the memory of the visions halted him. Instead, he restrained whatever emotions he felt, whatever slight Harry Potter meant with his words, and answered clearly, “Are you insinuating that I am a bad king?”
“Not really,” the man replied, ignoring the slight threat in the King’s words, “To be honest, in another life, where the Targaryen dynasty was more cemented, where your first wife would have lived and birthed you a son, your reign would have been nice enough. Sure, it wouldn’t be remembered for long; people always did prefer to remember the wars fought and how they were resolved, but that would have been it. Unfortunately, that is not the case, and the way that you handled a lot of the messes, especially ones regarding your family, could have been much better.”
“I have done my best. It is not my fault that every attempt I make to mend the cracks in our family is always rejected by some side or another,” the King protested loudly.
“You don’t need to convince me. I don’t care how or why you made your decisions. It’s not my business, and it wouldn’t be anyone’s had your family not had dragons at their disposal. You’re the king, the head of the family, one where each member could burn a small city to the ground in just a few hours. That means that you’re responsible for what they do and should stop rifts from forming, which could escalate things. For example, your grandfather was a good king, a great one, even, but he wasn’t well-liked by your family, and that was because he kept you all in line. Every single one of you was a danger to the realm on your own, and he knew that.”
“My family is not a danger to the realm,” Viserys yelled out.
The sorcerer had the audacity to shrug in response, “It’s your family, you would know. Then again, I wonder what these two giant dragons were. Green and Black, these colours are definitely familiar, aren’t they?”
Alicent and Rhaenyra, Viserys realised. He knew that his daughter and his wife did not like one another, but to go so far as to go to war against one another, to fight one another, that was something that he didn’t expect. If anything, he had thought that they would be akin to the relationship between him and the Velaryons at the start of his rule. There would have been some tensions, but he had fully expected Rhaenyra to understand the dangers of potentially enemy Dragonriders and bring them into the realm, perhaps by tying both branches of the family through marriage.
Kinslaying should have never even been considered, let alone dragons fighting one another. It would have been complete folly. And yet, he remembered Alicent trying to attack Rhaenyra during the Driftmark incident. He remembered Aemond glaring at the sheer mention of his nephews. He remembered Daemon’s tensions with Otto, and suddenly realised that there were signs of this, signs that he had ignored, dismissed as simple incidents.
The possibility was there, and if nothing changed, according to the sorcerer, it would become a certainty. As if to cement the point even further, the sorcerer continued, “You are not blameless for this mess either. The moment you remarried and had a son, you should have declared him the heir and been done with it. A lot of Lords of Westeros would not cement a ruling queen, not unless there was no other choice. You tried to use the Velaryons to support her by marrying her to their heir, who ended up being a sword-swallower. You gave her main opposition permission to claim dragons, not that it would have changed much, and gave too much authority to people who would help push Aegon’s claim. Even her heir’s parentage is in question, obviously not Laenor Velaryon’s son, making her own succession too insecure for a lot of lords to bet on. You should have disinherited her the moment she gave birth to Jacaerys, and you know it.”
“Rhaenyra’s children…” Viserys started.
But Harry Potter interrupted him, “Look, I don’t care about them being bastards. Where I’m from, we care about magic, about certain traits being carried forward. They are Dragonriders, so they are Targaryens; that is all there is to it. They’re good kids, and I like them a lot, but your lords obviously care about their parentage, and they will use it against young Jace if he ever becomes king. But hey, if you’re so sure that they’re Ser Laenor’s sons, I've travelled in enough places that I know of ways to definitely prove someone’s parentage. I could see if Jace is, in fact, related to Corlys Velaryon. We can even make an event of it, do it in public somewhere for everyone to see.”
“No!” Viserys protested, only to curse his reaction.
He had always known, deep down, that Rhaenyra’s children with Laenor were not legitimate. It was one of his greatest secrets, one that he would never admit to anyone. He knew that Rhaenyra had been foolish to bear children who did not look like her or Laenor. It was even more foolish to do it three times and expect different results.
He hadn’t known of Laenor’s disposition, the Velaryons having done much to hide that fact, and he admitted to feeling betrayed that they didn’t tell him and risked his heir’s legitimacy without his knowledge.
Viserys knew that he should have intervened, that he should have done something, but the moment he looked into the babe’s eyes, he had fallen in love with the lad. Rhaenyra had blessed him with a grandson, and baseborn or not, he had Aemma’s blood.
He knew that it would bring trouble. He had hoped that Rhaenyra would learn her lesson, to see the threat to her birthright that she was solely responsible for and at least try to get a son of Laenor’s seed or even choose a lover with a Valyrian disposition to try to bury the taint. Young Jace could join the citadel as a Maester, a suitable future for a prince of the blood.
Unfortunately, she didn’t. Viserys adored his grandchildren, but he knew that Rhaenyra’s actions had made things worse. His only hope was that as Rhaenyra would grow into her role as Queen, she would learn to deal with her own mistakes.
The only upside was that the Sea Snake couldn’t protest the whole affair, as it would bring shame onto his name, and since they agreed to the betrothal while knowing of young Laenor’s disposition, they would have to accept that their next Lord of the Driftmark would have no Velaryon blood in his veins. It was petty, but Corlys Velaryon had a hand in the current instability of the realm.
And so, Viserys had no choice but to deny any accusations of bastardy, not just for Rhaenyra’s sake, but for the stability of the realm. Admitting the boys’ parentage would lead to him calling them bastards, both offending the Velaryon and, since Ser Laenor was dead, a chance of a Velaryon on the throne, even if his name would be changed to Targaryen during his ascension. That would lead to tensions with one of the richest families in Westeros, one who also happened to have a Dragonrider in the form of Rhaenys. It would also result in baseborn Dragonriders, which would set a very dangerous precedent.
Leaving things relatively unknown, denying everything until Rhaenyra, herself, secured her rule, and Jacaerys showed his valour somehow, perhaps through bringing Dorne into the Seven Kingdoms, would grant him legitimacy to ignore the whispers of bastardy.
Viserys slumped, feeling strangely defeated before the sorcerer before him, a stranger in everything but name, “I will not trust some foreign sorcerer to interfere in my kingdom’s succession. Whatever trinket you have is unknown to us, and its results would not be accepted by anyone, let alone me.”
Instead of getting angry, the sorcerer let out a smile, “Good. At least you’re not fooling yourself. I would have been concerned if you had accepted. But the fact remains, your succession is uncertain. No matter how much you command it, people will try to put Aegon on the Iron Throne the moment you die. The fact that you have Otto Hightower as your hand is already very problematic.”
“Otto has been nothing but a loyal friend,” Viserys protested.
“I don’t care about your friendship. But giving a supporter to your chosen heir’s rival, so much power and influence, is a very stupid thing to do.”
“My Hand has been nothing but an exceptional hand…”
Harry Potter raised an eyebrow, “Are you seriously telling me that the moment you die, he would gladly stand aside and let Rhaenyra become Queen, especially with Daemon supporting her, a man that he dislikes immensely, and I’m understating things? Do you think that he would set aside his grandson, a man whose claim half the realm would support, just because of your friendship, and just agree to give Daemon power over him and his family? No lord would ever consider it… Ever… and you know it. Perhaps if Rhaenyra had more support, if she didn’t make things problematic, he could have hesitated, but Vhagar changed things, and your daughter’s actions since being named heir definitely didn’t endear her to the Lords of the Realm.”
Viserys found himself frozen, with every sound refusing to leave his throat. He couldn’t admit that he was right, that no Lord would refuse to seat their grandchild on the throne. And Otto had shown that desire before, when he insisted on Aegon being declared the heir.
He slumped, with irritation and frustration growing within him, “Are you going to suggest naming Aegon as the heir as well?”
“No,” the sorcerer said, surprising Viserys, “The kid has a making of a drunk and a whoremonger and definitely wouldn’t make a good king. Your second son, Aemond, is too bloodthirsty and would massacre his nephews if he ever could, without question, because of what happened in the Driftmark. Rhaenyra is too problematic given her gender and her actions, and jumping her straight to Jacaerys wouldn’t work, due to the rumours of his parentage. Your third son, Daeron, is too young, and so is Aegon the younger, Rhaenyra’s first trueborn son. You can’t jump to the boy without saying why you didn’t choose Jacaerys, which sets the precedent of illegitimate children claiming dragons. Also, your daughter marrying Daemon was a smart move on her part and removed a lot of your choices. Their children would be in danger from the Hightower supporters, who could assassinate them as threats to the throne, if Aegon ever becomes king. Your brother would defend them with everything he had, which would lead to war. This means that you can’t choose Aegon as the King. All in all, you have half a dozen potential claimants, each being more problematic than the other. Each one will lead to a side”
The King found himself frozen in both realisation and shock, “How could this have happened?”
“This happened because you were too ill and trusted Otto Hightower at your most vulnerable. He took advantage of that and stoked the flames, discrediting your heir’s reputation, not that she didn’t help with her recklessness. The fact remains that the moment he was reinstated as Hand, this was set in motion. You should have made Rhaenyra your hand to prepare her, or even Rhaenys with Rhaenyra shadowing her. Then again, it doesn’t matter, does it? The fact remains that you’re in a very delicate situation.”
“Then how should I deal with it. I cannot risk the realm being fragmented, not with the coming darkness.”
For a fragment of a second, Viserys felt small as he looked at the man’s green eyes. It felt like they were glowing. It was akin to feeling something heavy on his chest. It was gone so quickly that he felt like he had imagined it, and the man replied with his voice strangely neutral, “You could start by ignoring the prophecy completely.”
“Are you asking me to ignore my family’s purpose, our destiny?” the King asked incredulously.
“Yes. Because if you don’t stop caring about some dark future that will come over a century after your death and start caring about your family’s actual future, then you’ll lose both. You have a crisis coming, something that will shape this entire continent, something that will have ramifications for centuries to come, perhaps even the extinction of the dragons. The choice is yours.”
“Then how do I stop it? You described this as an impossible situation.”
The sorcerer smiled slightly, “It’s not my place to tell you what to do, but if I had a suggestion, I’d look at how your predecessor dealt with his succession crisis.”
“You’re talking about another Great Council. Do you think it will work?”
“Perhaps it will, and perhaps it won’t. But it’s better than letting things be, isn’t it? Again, you’ll have to do a lot to even justify having one, let alone enforce the result. It’s just a suggestion, nothing more than that. You could have other ideas. I’m not from this continent. I don’t know their culture or their lords, not like you do. Think very hard on what path has the lower risk of a war and go through with it.”
Viserys thought about it slightly, and the idea of a Great Council did have its appeal. He had always wanted to emulate his grandfather, and there was some wisdom in letting the lords choose their future King or Queen. It did soothe much of the unrest that came, and Rhaenys’ graceful loss did set a good precedent for everyone accepting it. He would need to enforce the decision in some way as well. It wasn’t a perfect idea, but it was an idea, a foolish hope for peace in what could be the greatest civil war in Westeros’ history.
He still wished for Aemma’s blood on the throne, but after the council, he would have ample time to ensure it in some way, perhaps through betrothals, should Rhaenyra not win the council’s vote.
The King of the Seven Kingdoms nodded to the sorcerer with a smile on his face, “This conversation has likely been the most unbiased one I've had since my previous hand, Lyonel Strong, perished. You have given me advice, enlightened me to a threat to my family’s rule, and even showed me the coming darkness. If I am to dismiss Otto Hightower from his post, as you implied I should, then I will be in need of a new Hand, an unbiased advisor to help me face the coming crisis.”
“I refuse,” the man responded without even taking a second to think.
“You refuse?” Viserys answered, not believing what he was hearing. This was one of the most powerful posts in Westeros, an honour that very few families could ever boast to having, and yet, the man had just refused so quickly.
“You don’t know me, but I dislike politics. I can be good at them if I cared, but I don’t. If I were interested in this, then I would have stayed at home, not some foreign lands that I came to on a whim. I’m a traveller, an adventurer, a scholar, that is who I am, and I refuse to force myself to do otherwise. I did my duty, fulfilled my prophecy, defeated the threat to my people, my reward was my freedom from it all. I already did enough by saving your life. I delayed your death and with it the coming war. By the time any fighting happens, my wife and I will have likely left the continent completely. That means that what comes next, how you handle things, will be up to you. It is your burden as King after all.”
The man turned and motioned to get out of the room, before turning to him one last time, “If I’ve learned something in my life, it’s that everyone is in this life for themselves. Consider this whenever you speak to anyone, everyone, and you’ll find that things become much clearer. Good luck, Viserys. You’re going to need it.”
And with that done, he turned back to the door and exited, leaving Viserys alone, staring at the Painted Table, pensive of the future of his family and of the Seven Kingdoms.
AN: That was harder to write than I expected, and I’m still not sure about Harry being so strict with Viserys. The idea was to essentially scare him into picking himself up and thinking for once, which would have some weight to it, as Harry is a ‘Dreamer’. It's also why Viserys accepted things so easily. He always put more weight on magic and dreams. I hope this chapter came out like I wanted it to, but I don’t mind rewriting it depending on your feedback. So, as usual, please let me know what you think and if you have any suggestions.
Comments
Marius Petrauskas
nice
Doubledoor
People like to hate on Viserys, saying he was a horrible king, but I always considered him more of a small man inheriting big shoes. He is not a bad king, but not a good one either and being as surrounded by snakes as he was, he simply failed to live up to the challenges life and the realm put before him. It'll be fun to read your take on how he would handle them with a bit being taken off his plate.
Garri Sarkisov
Well done. Fantastic advise.
SweetKat21
Viserys was a terrible King. He was sick, but even when he wasn't so bad, I never understood why.
faintmeteor
Harry gave Viserys phenomenal advice, it's just so refreshing to see.
Afterdark230
I don’t know the lore of this story but I like it
Monzter E
Jackpot!!!
Adam Daw
Viserys getting some sense talked into him was excellent. At least he has more time thanks to the phoenix tear. Hopefully that adds some weight to Rhaenyra, but... I wonder if it's too little too late.
