Chapter Text
The sea was in his favour. The Blackwater was easy to navigate, with mild waters, unlike Shipbreaker Bay. He had sailed there once with his cousin Renly and had thought for sure it was his end.
Viserys glanced at the sky. The journey from Dragonstone to King’s Landing took less than a day by ship yet it could be done within hours on dragonback. He wondered how it must have felt, for the world to be so small beneath the wings of a beast of old, large and fast enough that time itself did not apply anymore.
“My prince”, his captain spoke up. “We will reach the Red Keep momentarily.”
Viserys arched a brow at the man and gestured towards the large castle looming just ahead. “Yes, I can tell.”
The captain did not flounder, to his credit. “It’ll be busy on deck. Your valet has packed your belongings.”
“Very well then”, Viserys said and moved to the bow of the ship, sea foam spraying in the wind, making the air taste like salt and seaweed. Viserys was not a great naval man, not like their Velaryon relatives, though he counted himself lucky to be spared of seasickness.
They approached the Red Keep, the quay reserved for royal ships in the small, hidden bay at the foot of the castle. Viserys looked up at the castle, a smile pulling at his lips when he spotted the red and black banner of House Targaryen unfurled over the merlons, welcoming the ship bearing the same sigil back.
“Welcome home, my prince”, the captain said as the ship docked, sailors rushing to secure the boat.
Viserys disembarked via the ramp, a pleased smile pulling on his lips when he recognised his welcoming party.
“Cousin!”, Renly called and spread his arms, smiling widely. “Your handsome face was direly missed!”
“Pay him no mind, uncle”, Rhaenys said. “He had no one to indulge in his mischief with you at Dragonstone and Loras at Highgarden.”
Viserys let himself be pulled into a bear hug by Renly and kissed his niece’s cheek in greeting.
“You have gotten… round”, Viserys stated, gesturing to her swollen belly.
Rhaenys sighed and rested a hand on top of her bump. “I am aware. Egg is not letting me hear the end of it and neither is Visenya.”
“They do say children are as honest as a drunk man”, Renly mused. “Are you sure you are not carrying two? Your lord husband must be delighted.”
Rhaenys did not deign this with an answer. “Come, uncle. We must not encourage him further.”
Renly laughed, good-naturedly, and turned to Viserys as they moved towards the Keep, guards with Targaryen banners at their sides.
“Now, you must tell me, cousin”, Renly started, “Do the people on Dragonstone truly wear jewellery of dragonglass and scales?”
“Why?” Viserys grinned at him. “Would you like to adorn yourself with it, peacock that you are?”
“Not everyone is blessed with the celestial beauty of Old Valyria”, Renly said and pulled at his own black hair. “For some, the Baratheon seed was too dominant. Curse you, grandfather Ormund.”
“I have yet to meet any other man as obsessed with his looks as the two of you”, Rhaenys said with a sigh.
“Afraid we will outshine your beauty, beloved niece?”, Viserys lilted and Rhaenys waved him off.
“Have you no interest in what has happened in your absence?”, she asked, changing the topic. “You were gone three months, Viserys. Aegon could be king for all you know.”
“I was on Dragonstone, not beyond the Wall”, Viserys said. “But it seems there are changes you would like to share, so do so, Rhaenys.”
“Father has appointed a new Hand”, Rhaenys said as they crossed one of the yards. “Jon Arryn died.”
Viserys stopped, brows raised. “Lord Arryn has passed?”
“Do not sound so surprised”, Rhaenys said. “He was ancient. Lysa Arryn and her son have returned to the Eyrie.”
“Good riddance”, Viserys scoffed. “Neither of them were suited for the capital. The boy was spoiled beyond what was healthy. What child of seven still nurses at their mother’s breast?”
“Says the man whose wetnurse had a royal taster suck on her teats to make sure there was no poison on her nipples”, Renly said and shuddered. “The Mad King truly deserved his name.”
Viserys rolled his eyes and followed his cousin and niece into one of the pavilions in the Keep’s greenery.
“Uncle!”, Aegon called and rose from the table he was sitting at with Daenerys, who rose alongside him. “I feared you stole my castle and proclaimed yourself Prince of Dragonstone with how long you were gone!”
“You may keep your cold and wet island, Aegon”, Viserys said and dropped into one of the free chairs. There was fruit and wine served and Viserys’ mouth started watering. In three months on Dragonstone, he’d had only sour Dornish wine and vegetables. And those figs looked delicious. “I much prefer Summerhall.”
“A ruin?” Renly poured himself a goblet of Arbour gold. “At least Dragonstone has a roof.”
“Who needs a roof when it barely ever rains?” Viserys took the pitcher from him. “Though I will have it rebuilt when I move my household there.”
“Will you ever?”, Dany asked and twirled a grape between her fingers. “I do not imagine Rhaegar would let you rebuild.”
“Even Rhaegar will see sense in the grounds that are wasted with ruins sooner or later”, Viserys said and turned his face into the sun, letting the warmth seep into his skin. “So what is this I hear of Rhaegar naming a new Hand? When did Jon Arryn die?”
“A little more than a month after your departure”, Rhaenys said and lowered herself onto one of the chairs, waving a servant over to have her fetch some water. “The court was brimming with noblemen hoping to gain the office. Ludicrous.”
“Even more ludicrous is Rhaegar’s actual choice of a new Hand!”, Renly called. “I know few men less suited to the office than my brother.”
“Stannis seems like a good choice, does he not?”, Visery asked.
“Certainly”, Aegon said and grimaced. “But Father appointed Robert.”
Viserys dropped a fig. “Robert Baratheon?”
“The very one”, Rhaenys said with a deep sigh. “Master of War would have suited him more but Father does not wish to make the office a permanent one. It seems he wants to bind us closer together with the last remaining other Targaryen descendants.”
“The house of the dragon has never been this small, after all”, Dany said solemnly. “Not since the Great Spring Sickness.”
“But Robert Baratheon as Hand?”, Viserys pressed. “Rhaegar and he never got along well. Is this not a recipe for disaster?”
“Time will tell”, Rhaenys said and swirled her goblet of water. “I shall dutifully report from the Small Council. Though I imagine, any fights will be heard all the way to the Wall.”
“Robert’s yelling could rouse even a sleeping giant beyond the Wall”, Renly jested. “He will arrive in a fortnight.”
“He is not bringing his wife, is he?”, Viserys asked and twisted his face into a grimace. Cersei Lannister was known to loathe Queen Elia and her children. Viserys could not quite accept her for that, not when Elia had taken Dany and him and raised him alongside her own children when Mother died giving birth to Dany.
“No”, Renly said. “But he is bringing my nephew, Joffrey.”
“His heir? Whatever for? Should his father’s absence not be good practice for him to run Storm’s End?”, Aegon inquired.
“Joffrey is… challenging”, Renly said and tapped the tabletop. “He spent too much time with his mother as a child, spoiled rotten. Robert is trying to remedy those shortcomings now.”
“Too late, as far as I am concerned.” Aegon scoffed. “Joffrey is seven-and-ten years of age, my peer, a man grown.”
“And only two years younger than me.” Dany frowned. “I do not think cousin Robert will be able to mould Joffrey into anything new now.”
“On that we agree”, Rhaenys said.
“I am not sure. Joffrey has always sought Robert’s approval”, Renly said. “He may try to prove himself now to win it.”
Viserys scoffed and waved a servant over to fetch more oranges. “What man still seeks his father’s approval at that age? He sounds rather pitiful.”
“You still seek Rhaegar’s approval for almost anything you do”, Dany said and gave him a smile that was a little condescending. Viserys kissed his teeth.
“What would you know, Dany”, he said. “You’re just a child.”
“Speaking of children”, Aegon cut in and stood, a smile spreading on his face. “If it is not our favourite little conqueress!”
Viserys turned around and mirrored Aegon’s expression immediately when he saw little Visenya bounding towards them, her mother and a septa right behind her.
“Uncle!”, Visenya cried when she laid eyes on Viserys and he stood to let her rush up to him and wrap her little arms around his torso. She had grown, almost reaching his chest now. “You’re back!”
“That I am”, Viserys said and brushed silver hair from his youngest niece’s face. “I take it you have reigned the Keep well in my absence?”
“Yes!” Visenya puffed out her cheeks, dark brown eyes shining with excitement. “Egg, Nysa and Dany helped, though. And Mother. And Father.”
“Let him breathe, Visenya”, Elia called and her daughter stepped back with an almost sheepish expression. “Welcome back, Viserys.”
“Thank you”, he told his good-sister.
“I take it everything is in order on Dragonstone?”
“It is. Cold and wet, but in order”
“That is good.” Elia brushed her daughter’s head. “Go with your septa, Visenya.”
Visenya huffed, clearly miffed at being dismissed by the grown-ups, but did as she was told. She was ten years old now, born eight years after Aegon, in what had been another challenging pregnancy, but much less so than with Rhaenys and Aegon. Eight years of rest had done wonders for Elia’s health and Rhaegar had been satisfied to have his three-headed-dragon after all.
Not to mention that Visenya’s siblings and uncle and aunt adored her.
Elia took a seat at the table and poured herself a goblet of wine. “I suppose you have heard the news by now.”
“Of Robert coming to court as Rhaegar’s hand?”, Renly said. “It is the talk of the castle, the city even.”
“For good reason”, Dany uttered. “Robert Baratheon as Rhaegar’s Hand? I never believed my brother prone to our father’s madness, but this decision does raise suspicions.”
“Do not jest about this, Dany”, Elia said and shot her good-sister a warning look. “There are eyes and ears everywhere and one might consider those words treason.”
Viserys highly doubted Rhaegar would ever let harm come to Dany whom he loved like she was one of his own. He would likely not even scold her. If not for Elia and the septas taking care of Dany’s education, she might have been as spoiled as Robin Arryn and Joffrey Baratheon.
“Joffrey is joining his lord father to learn life at court. He will train with both of you, Egg, Viserys, and live in the Tower of the Hand”, Elia went on. “It is said the boy’s mind has been poisoned by his lady mother, so I ask you to tread carefully. Understood?”
“Yes, Mother”, Aegon said.
Dany stood. “I shall take my leave. My ladies and I are going on a ride to the kingswood.”
“Watch out for boars”, Renly told her. “It’s the season for them.”
“When have you become a maester, cousin?”, Viserys asked, smirking over the rim of his goblet.
“Around the same time you became a naval man, cousin”, Renly answered with a smirk of his own.
“Loras must return”, Rhaenys said and sighed. “The two of you truly bring out the most insufferable in each other. At least with Loras, you settle it in bed, cousin.”
“Rhaenys”, Elia said.
“It is the Keep’s worst-kept secret and Loras is my good-brother”, Rhaenys said drily and stood. “I shall prepare for the next meeting of the Small Council. Mother, do you need anything?”
Elia shook her head. “No, thank you, my love.”
Rhaenys pressed a kiss to her mother’s cheek before making her way out of the pavilion, leaving her brother, uncle and cousin with her mother.
“I know those faces”, Elia said. “You are about to trade bawdy stories.”
“What faces do you mean, Mother?”, Aegon asked and covered his smile with his hand.
“Incorrigible”, Elia said and rose. “Do not let me keep you from it. Remember, Robert Baratheon arrives in a fortnight. Be here, not in an alehouse in the city.”
“Yes, Mother”, Aegon said dutifully.
Elia seemed half-convinced, but did not press the issue further and instead took her leave.
“I have not been in a proper alehouse in three months”, Viserys said once she was out of earshot.
“Say less, uncle”, Aegon said, purple eyes sparking with mischief. “I shall ready our hats.”
King’s Landing was brimming with life, even though the sun had just begun to set. Unfortunately, it was also brimming with stink . Viserys had most definitely not missed the stench of the city while at Dragonstone.
“Father’s arranging marriages”, Aegon said as soon as the innkeep had served them their ale. He had tied a linen cloth over his hair to hide the telltale silver colour, Viserys had stuffed his shoulder-length hair under a hat. “Varys is urging him to.”
Viserys choked on his ale and Aegon hit him on the back a little too enthusiastically. He shot his nephew a sour look and wiped the drink from his mouth.
“Seven save the poor ladies who shall have to put up with you”, Renly said and raised his cup in a mock-toast. “You have escaped your fate so long.”
“You are older than both of us”, Viserys hissed. “Where is your wife?”
Renly took a gulp of his ale and grinned widely. “Contrary to you two, my marriage is not Rhaegar’s jurisdiction, but Robert’s! And Robert could not give less of a shit. He has two sons and a daughter, as well as a sour-faced brother with a child of his own. Such is the privilege of a third son.”
“The privilege that you get to in turn fuck the third son of Highgarden?”, Viserys muttered into his cup. “The realm’s maidens will cry tears of grief when they learn the Knight of Flowers is a sword-swallower.”
Renly narrowed his eyes at him. “You seem not inexperienced yourself, cousin. How else could you sit so comfortably with the stick in your arse?”
Aegon spat out his ale and howled in laughter, Renly joining in, clearly satisfied with himself.
Viserys scoffed and nursed his own ale. Bawdy fools, both of them.
“So”, he said. “Who does my brother have intended for you?”
Aegon wiped a tear of laughter from the corner of his eye and inhaled deeply. “Ah, so serious, uncle. Let the ale loosen your buttocks so that the stick may come out!”
Renly guffawed and Aegon cried laughing. Viserys was tempted to throw ale in their faces but it would be unbecoming of a prince. He paused. They were in disguise. He could behave as unprincely as he liked.
So he threw the ale in Aegon’s face. His nephew was so caught off guard, he only opened his mouth like a fish, eyes wide as saucers.
Renly stared and promptly delved into laughter again, this time with Viserys joining him until his stomach hurt and cheeks ached.
“Attacking your future king”, Aegon grumbled under his breath.
Viserys waved over the serving girl to refill his cup. “Disciplining my nephew.”
“Delightful”, Renly wheezed.
“ You are not the one soaked in ale”, Aegon bemoaned and wiped his face off with the edge of his coat. “To answer your original question, uncle, Father has not divulged this information yet.”
“Ah, it’s easy, is it not?” Renly rubbed his hands together when another serving girl placed a platter of cheeses and grapes on the table. “It is unlikely to be a Dornishwoman, you are half Martell yourself. Casterly Rock remains without an heir in the next generation, and Edmure Tully of Riverrun is wife- and daughterless still. Robin Arryn of the Vale is a child with no sisters and no daughters for the foreseeable future. The Tyrells are joined through Rhaenys and Willas, though they will likely put forth Margaery as your bride nevertheless.”
“The lords would not appreciate both of Rhaegar’s older children being married to Tyrells”, Viserys said. “The Lannisters would not tolerate it.”
“Which is what brings me to the matches of the highest likelihood”, Renly went on. “My niece, Myrcella. She has Lannister blood and is the daughter of the Lord Paramount of the Stormlands. It would appease Lord Tywin and please my brother. It does not hurt that us Baratheons have a drop of dragon blood ourselves.”
“A drop let at most”, Viserys said.
“Hush now, cousin”, Renly cut him off and Viserys was tempted to throw ale in his face as well. “However, there is one more possible match.”
“Do share”, Aegon sighed. He had started looking more sullen with each sentence of Renly’s.
“Brandon Stark’s daughter, Sansa”, Renly said and spread his arms as if waiting for applause.
“Stark?”, Aegon repeated, incredulous. “Surely you jest, Renly.”
“I do not.” Renly swirled the ale in his cup. “The North has long since operated almost independently, almost out of the reach of the crown. If Rhaegar is wise, he will take action to bring the North closer into the fold of the Realm.”
“Nonsense”, Viserys said. “The North would bring nothing into the royal coffers. No money, no crops, no cattle. It is a frozen, desolate wasteland. What could they possibly supply? Wood, at best! And a Stark in the far south, on the throne no less?”
“I am told Sansa Stark takes after her mother, Catelyn Tully, a southern lady”, Renly went on. “And let us not forget that Eddard Stark took Ashara Dayne, a Dornishwoman , to wife . Clearly, the chasm between north and south is growing closer.”
“Right”, Aegon spoke. “Let us also not forget Lyanna Stark scorned your brother, head of a great southron house, to elope with Domeric Bolton in order to avoid marrying Robert. He is Hand now and would never bless the match. Father would be unwise to push it.”
“My brother remains close friends with Eddard Stark and he holds no grudge towards the family”, Renly argued. “The Boltons, they are a different matter. He remains convinced Domeric abducted Lyanna.”
“Follery and delusions”, Viserys said. “No wench as willful as the Stark girl would wed a man who had fathered no less than three bastards while they were betrothed.”
Renly lifted his cup. “And now we are stuck with Cersei.”
Aegon groaned. “I shall hope Myrcella is more even-tempered than her mother.”
“No matter if wolf, lion or stag, nephew”, Viserys spoke and raised his cup as well. “A dragon conquers all!”
Aegon grinned. “Shall we drink to that?”
“We shall!”, Renly cheered.