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galacticwildfire · 1 year

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Sad, Beautiful, Tragic | Alicent Hightower

One

Alicent Hightower x Targaryen!oc

Their fathers sworn enemies, Viserra and Alicent should never have been as close as they were, yet it was a connection neither could fight. What began as an innocent girlhood companionship becomes something scandalous, with the bastard daughter of Daemon Targaryen showing her true colours. As the dance begins she finds herself torn between her loyalty to her house and her love for her father. Yet neither hold a candle to her forbidden love for the new queen, a love which threatens to destroy them both.

Word count : 6600

A/N: this chapter is set during episode one, setting up the tone for the rest of the story. For hotd/got stories I do not typically use tags unless it is for severe content warnings, all violence and themes will align with that in canon.

A year it's been since I've stepped foot in Kings Landing. So long has passed since my father decided to take me on one of his adventures to Dorne and then across the narrow sea, to show me the ruins of old Valyria with my own eyes, only to return for the heir's tournament.

Except despite his insistence, it is not his tournament, but that of the king's unborn child. I can only imagine how Rhaenyra must feel as the king's daughter, because gods do I know how my father is taking it as the king's brother. If he were to be disinherited by a baby boy he may just kill it himself.

"Now," Father begins as we walk through the gates of the Red Keep, our dragons returning to the Dragonpit for the first time in so long. "If that cunt of Hightower makes even a single comment I want to know."

"It's Otto Hightower, of course he will," I reply, knowing the reason he decided to take me and leave. Otto Hightower made the mistake of complaining to the king that I am of too low a status to be seen with his daughter. Something my father did not take well to. "He's a cunt by nature, you can't win them all over."

"I don't have any desire to win him over, what I desire is to cut his tongue out for calling my only daughter a bastard."

"Except I am a bastard," I remind him, the very words Viserys told him. "His tongue cannot be cut out for speaking the truth."

"A legitimised bastard, I made sure of that," he reminds me in return. "My brother knew he'd have hell to pay if he didn't give you the Targaryen name and legitimise you, especially after I named you in his honour. Don't forget that when you walk through the Red Keep you are my heir and a fucking dragon rider. You are above the likes of Otto Hightower."

"It's not hard to be above him," I remark and say "I'll just be glad to see Rhaenyra and Alicent."

He groans. "You truly wish to run around with that girl knowing who her father is?"

"Alicent is sweet," I dismiss, immediately protective. "It's hardly her fault who her father is."

"That may be true but she is utterly boring," he remarks and I roll my eyes. "Rhaenyra is the one you ought to be close with."

"If I recall I was inseparable with both before the kingsguard had to stop you from cutting Otto's tongue out in the small council chamber."

"And I'd do it again."

"In that case I'll happily run around with Alicent and Rhaenyra," I tell him. "They are the closest thing I have to sisters, I will not let insults take that from me."

"Yes well, as long as Otto doesn't like it I'm fine with it," he allows and reminds me. "Now don't let them keep Darkfyre in the pits for too long, she's growing fast out of captivity. I give it only a few years and she'll be as large as Caraxes." He looks towards the throne room. "You go settle in, I'll see you after."

He leaves me to my own devices, and the first place I go is to the queens chambers to see her, it's only by chance they are both there as well.

"Your grace, the Lady Viserra."

As I'm announced they all look to me in surprise, but it is a happy one.

Rhaenyra immediately jumps up to hug me, followed by Alicent, and I look over their shoulders to Aemma, sitting up with a hand resting on her belly.

"I was starting to worry your father would never bring you back," she says and reaches out her hand. "Come here child, let me see you." She smiles as I come over. "You look like Jeyne more every day."

Jeyne. My mother. A lady in waiting to Aemma when she was first brought to court from the Vale. I know well enough it was not love what happened between her and my father, for he left her at the first mention of pregnancy and returned for me after she had died in the childbed. But before then Aemma had promised my mother she would care for me, and she has.

"How are you faring?" I ask her, noticing her discomfort.

"I could be better, but as I was just telling Rhaenyra, you three girls will soon be in this bed and you must learn to face it with a stiff lip."

For Rhaenyra and Alicent an arranged marriage to a great house is a certainty, for me it is an impossibility. "I think my father would sooner send any suitor to the sword than have me wed."

She chuckles. "That is true." She looks past me to Rhaenyra and Alicent and says "Now you girls go and have fun, I have no doubt there is much to catch up on."

The three of us walk arm in arm through the Red Keep, the two of them asking eagerly of tales from across the narrow sea which I give vividly. When Rhaenyra is called away to serve as her fathers cupbearer on the council, I take Alicent to the dragon pit.

Come," I say, holding her hand. "Come see how Darkfyre's grown."

Darkfyre, named to honour my fathers sword Darksister. The keepers are still coaxing her into the pit since it's been so long since she's been in captivity.

"Lykiri," I tell her, since the keepers struggle to tame her. Alicent stands behind me as I put a hand on her black scales to ease her. "Lykiri."

"She's larger than Syrax," Alicent comments in surprise. "Far larger."

"Keeping them captive in the dragon pit is hindering their growth," I tell her. "Since travelling around Dorne and the free cities with father she's been free to grow."

"It's been so long since a Targaryen's stepped foot in Dorne," she says, knowing her histories. "What was your father doing there?"

"Well, he decided to go remind the Dornish we have dragons," I put it simply. "Parading himself trying to gather favour. We were guests of the prince of the Dorne for a while, it truly is beautiful in Sunspear."

"I can imagine," she says. "So what's brought your father back?"

"Gods know, he's likely grown bored and has decided to give his brother and your father hell again."

We're both able to laugh despite how our fathers despise one another. While my father is content to burn his bridges, I don't have that luxury. As a bastard my standing is fragile enough, I need all the friends at court I can have.

"I'm glad to be back," I tell her. "I've missed home. As much as I love my father I have no desire to spend my time in Dornish brothels as he does."

She raises an eyebrow. "Then what is it you desire?"

"To be the greatest dragon rider there is," I tell her, flashing a smile as I take her hand, coaxing her towards Darkfyre. "Here, don't be afraid."

She's too stunned to refuse as I bring her hand to Darkfyre and she gasps at the touch. "I've never-"

"Touched a dragon?" I finish, knowing how she's always refused to. "See, there's no reason to fear them. They're loyal to their riders."

"Except I'm not her rider."

"Yet," I tease, knowing she's large enough to saddle two. "My father took me up on Caraxes when I was just a week old, as his mother did with him."

"My father would kill me if I even considered it."

That makes me smile. "It would be a bit hard for him to kill you if you were on dragonback."

She shakes her head, smiling. "You have not changed a bit."

The three of us lay beneath the Weirwood tree in the garden. Alicent testing me on my studies which have been truly neglected this past year, except I've gained a knowledge that is truly invaluable. Experience. Seeing the places we read of, being part of their living history instead of flipping through books.

"It doesn't matter what lord married what lady fifty years ago," I lecture. "What matters is the state of everything today, and unless it's Valyrian history what's the point?"

Rhaenyra laughs. "Did Daemon tell you that?"

"Well it's true," I say, him being my sole educator for the past year. "Across the narrow sea no one asks what lord married what lady fifty years ago, they want to hear of the dragons and the conqueror."

"Now that is something I can agree with," Rhaenyra says much to Alicent's annoyance, who's trying to get us up to scratch for the septa.

"The Septa will be furious if you two insist on jesting."

"The Septa's funny when she's furious."

I laugh but Alicent senses something deeper. "You're always like this when you're worried."

"Like what?"

"Disagreeable."

There's something in the look the two share that makes my heart sink a little, that in my absence the two have become closer. It was always the three of us, and now it is them with me there as well.

"You're worried your father is about to overshadow you with a son."

"I only worry for my mother," Rhaenyra says, a sentiment I share.

"She'll be alright," I try to assure her. "She's done this many times."

"And yet I'm the only one that lives."

Her reply is morbid enough to make Alicent quiet.

"Yes, but if you're mother has endured childbirth this many times over the odds are in her favour," I say, trying to put it logically. "Trust in the maesters."

I look to Alicent, who lost her own mother whilst I was in the free cities, and silently reach for her hand. It seems more has changed in my absence than I thought.

That night my father requests I come with him to Fleabottom to witness his new force of Gold Cloaks. I stand by his side as he gives his speech to his men, listening as the men howl and the violence begins.

It's pure butchery unlike anything I've ever seen, but father watches me so I keep my horror buried deep, not letting it show. I don't understand the reason for me being hear until he puts Darksister in my hand and the goldcloaks bring forth a bloodied man.

"Now, you may have returned to the keep but I cannot allow you to get soft," he says as I stare numbly at the sight. "You must not be afraid of blood nor a blade, for one day it could be the only thing standing between you and death." The man writhes, begging for mercy. "This blade will be yours one day, Darksister, blade of Visenya. I intend to make you worthy of it."

And so I raise the blade and spill my first blood.

Alicent is with me the next morning, helping me alter a dress for the tournament since my bust has come in this past year and the clothes I left here in the keep are ill fitting as a result.

"You're tired," she notices, and from the way her nose turns up I know she can smell Fleabottom on me. "Your father took you into the city?"

"Yes, he wanted me to be there as he showcased his Goldcloaks," I tell her, choosing not to elaborate much further. "An eventful night of the kings justice being showcased." But as I reach out to help her the red staining my hand matches the dress.

She's silent as she looks at me, knowing very well what I'm not telling her.

"It-" there's no point excusing it. "My father does not want me getting soft."

"So he has you spill blood in the city streets?"

There's a protective bite to her voice.

"He believes I should know how to handle a blade," I argue. "If I was a man you would see no issue with it."

"Well your father lets you behave as one," she mutters under her breath, going to push my hand aside but her eyes fall to the floor as I see the red of her nails, an old habit worsened.

"It seems my father isn't the only one with expectations," I say, knowing very well the words of me behaving as a man are from her fathers mouth, but that's not what I'm concerned about. "How long Alicent?"

She quickly hides her nails from me. "It's nothing."

I look at her and see a truly sad girl, as if it's so inherent it's as much a part of her as her own heart. "You do not need to lie to me for fear of shame, it's me." She always tries so hard to please her father, to be the good and chaste influence on Rhaenyra. But she needs not be anyone else for me. "How long?"

"It- it's always been a bad habit, but I'll admit the past months it's gotten worse," she tells me shyly. "I just get so nervous-"

I hold her hands gently, looking down at them, at something she is so ashamed of. "You may be the most beautiful girl in Kings Landing and have a reputation to keep, but you are allowed to not have to seem so perfect."

My point is lost on her, for she stammers "Do you truly mean that?"

I just laugh at her naivety. "Well, I cannot speak for men but I can say with certainty after travelling the free cities you are still the most beautiful girl I've seen." She's at a loss for words and I smile. "Come now, show me your dress for the tournament."

Alicent and I sit side by side at the tournament, Rhaenyra deciding to be fashionably late. It's a beautiful day, yet an anxious one as Aemma has begun her labors. We sit at the front with Princess Rhaenys' children Laena and Laenor. I'm showing Laena a golden ring from Lys when Rhaenyra joins us, sitting on the other side of Alicent.

"Has it started yet?" Rhaenyra asks, flaunting some jewellery of her own that intrigues Laena.

"What metal is that?" she asks, not recognising it and I can't blame her, for I doubt the child has ever seen anything like it.

"Valyrian steel," Rhaenyra replies with a smile as she touches her necklace. "Daemon gifted it to me."

Now that surprises me and I can't help but exclaim "He did?"

"Yes," she says with that coy tone she uses. "When you returned to the city."

My father never mentioned it to me, he surely did waste no gold in acquiring all sorts of Valyrian artefacts, he had spent weeks seeking a Valyrian steel dagger for my nameday, yet he never once mentioned a gift like this for Rhaenyra.

Alicent much catch the confusion in my eye for she tilts her head at me, but just as quickly as she goes to inquire the events begin. Rhaenyra gleefully watches the lancing but I sit there in contemplation. Rhaenyra is his niece yes, but such a gift is strange, even for my father.

Finally he is announced.

"Prince Daemon, Prince of the City!"

He rides past in his armor, and I look to Rhaenyra, who is practically blushing, it's then it dawns on me the affection she has for my father. An innocent fancy perhaps, but not one I expected my father to encourage with gifts.

Except of course he would.

I watch as he taunts the line of knights for his choosing, until finally he makes his choice. Alicent's brother.

"For his first challenge Prince Daemon chooses Ser Gwayne Hightower of Oldtown, eldest son of the Hand of the King."

Alicent immediately becomes anxious beside me and I reach for her hand, our fingers laced together hidden between the folds of our dresses. She is afraid and rightly so, for we both know it will be my father that wins, and will likely do so taking any chance he can to spite Otto Hightower. Sure enough I watch him look up at Otto before charging.

I'm cringing as my father upon taking a hit decides to play dirty, using his lance to take down the horse and Alicent gasps loudly as her brother is thrown to the ground. I hold her hand tight as she peers over, trying to see if he's alright all while I just shake my head at my father who smirks proudly as he rides over.

While I'm focused on Alicent it's Rhaenyra who gets up to greet my father, something else that rubs me the wrong way, something Alicent notices as we follow.

"Nicely done uncle," Rhaenyra praises.

"Thank you princess."

"Is being underhanded the only way you can win?" I taunt my father, not as impressed as Rhaenyra is.

"No but it's more entertaining," he replies, looking around at the crowd and decides to aggravate Otto further. "Now I'm fairly sure I can win these games Lady Alicent, your favour would all but assure it."

I purse my lips unimpressed as Alicent goes to get her favour while Rhaenyra holds my fathers eye, the tension between them almost making me sick.

"Good luck, my prince," Alicent says placing her favour on his lance, uncomfortable beside me for only a moment before wearing a pleasant smile, and the tournament continues.

It's bloody and beautiful, pageantry alongside brutality. Whilst Alicent watches on in horror, and Rhaenyra lets out a gasp or two I watch on nubmly after having experienced the pure butchery at my fathers hands down in Fleabottom.

In the midst of it I notice Alicent, her eyes fixed on the violence whilst picking at her nails and I take her hands in mine, she almost jumps at the touch, having been pulled out of her daze and I just squeeze her hands, no more needing to be said as we watch on.

My attention is caught by the knight Ser Criston Cole going against my father. A handsome man from what we've seen, secretly I hope he puts my father in his place, and he does. Although I can't help the shriek that escapes me as my fathers horse drags him along the railing, the sound awful as he hits the ground and this time it's Alicent gripping my hand tight.

A man goes to help my father to his feet only to be pushed to the ground, and I run to the balcony's edge as my father gets to his feet, almost maddened with the shame of being dishorsed. I watch wide eyed as he calls for his sword and Alicent and Rhaenyra both jump up and come to my side.

"Prince Daemon wishes to continue in a contest of arms!"

I look behind me for the king but he's nowhere to be seen, no one to stop this madness if it gets out of hand, which it no doubt will. Ser Criston faces my fathers sword with a mace and chain, breathing through fathers shield, the fight becomes hands on, more kicking and shoving than anything else until Ser Criston is on the ground and my father looks up at me, smiling and cheering as he claims victory. Only to have made the mistake of turning his back on his opponent, for he's knocked to the ground and he does something that surprises me. He yields. Not out of weakness, but almost, almost, out of something resembling respect for a good fight.

It's then Ser Criston comes forward removing his helmet, the three of us share an exchange of pleasant surprise at the sight of him.

"Gods, he's Dornish," I hear Alicent exclaim while I can't help but appreciate the sight in front of us.

"I was hoping to ask for the favour of Lady Viserra," he says, not Rhaenyra's, but mine. "The daughter of the Prince."

Doing the same as my father, asking for the favour of his opponent's daughter. I can respect him for that. And so I'm smiling as I reach for my favour, my father watching on in amusement as I toss it down to Ser Criston. "Good fight Ser Criston, I wish you luck."

Rhaenyra can make eyes at my father all she likes, I'll give the Dornish knight my favour. But it's then I notice Otto Hightower returning and murmuring something to one of the council members. Alarm quickly spreads behind us, something Rhaenyra notices and I know it can only be one thing.

"Alicent," I say and she goes to her father who pulls her aside murmuring something to her, she looks back at us and there is no mistaking it.

The queen is dead.

"Rhaenyra," I immediately breathe, reaching for her, she's too shocked to cry but even so I take her in my arms, looking over her shoulder at Alicent in mutual horror. The two motherless girls have become three.

We sit together in Rhaenyra's room, Alicent and I sitting on the edge of her bed as she lies away from us, eyes wide open yet dead to the world.

"Baelor your father has named the boy," I tell her, treading gently. "Would you like to see him?"

She doesn't reply. Neither her or Viserys have seen the boy, he's in the care of wet nurses. I lost my mother the day I was born, I feel no pain for her, the pain I feel is for Aemma, the only mother I've ever had.

"We'll let you sleep," Alicent says gently, and we leave the room having done what we can for her, but she must mourn, there is no easy way to do so. When we're outside she asks me "Are you alright?"

I force myself to nod. "I loved the queen as my own mother, but it is Rhaenyra I worry for."

She nods in understanding, and reaches for me. "We have all lost a mother now. The pain... it does get easier."

I see the pain in her eyes, the loss of her own mother wounding her still, especially now. Silently I take her in my arms, needing someone to hold onto. In her embrace I feel safe enough to finally let the tears escape.

We stand there like that in silence until a guard comes.

"Lady Alicent, the hand has summoned you."

"Go," I tell her gently. "I'll be alright."

She nods, and is escorted by the guard to her fathers office.

In my loneliness I find myself walking to my fathers chambers, he will not be mourning, but I need him nonetheless. I need my father to hold me and tell me he understands, that it will be okay. He has never been affectionate in that manner, but he's always been there when I've needed him.

Yet when I come to his chambers he isn't there.

And so in the shadow of mourning over the keep I find myself coming to the barracks of the Goldcloaks.

"My Lady," Ser Harwin says, recognising me. "Are you looking for the prince?" I nod meekly, like a child seeking out their parent after a bad dream. "He has taken to the Street of Silk."

"To the brothels," I correct, saying what we both know. "Thank you for your assistance."

"Would you like me to get him for you?" he offers and I shake my head, swallowing my bitterness.

"He is mourning in his own way."

Alicent and I stand side by side at the funeral, the babe having passed in the night after his birth.

My father stands separate from us, his eyes on Rhaenyra, as they should be since she has lost her mother, but I cannot forget the necklace, cannot forget the unspoken tension between them.

But today is not the day for that. Today we mourn.

Again after the funeral I seek out my father to find him missing, this time I don't bother searching for him, able to hear the ruckus of the Goldcloaks ascending on the Street of Silk.

So instead I go to Rhaenyra who stares numbly at a candle flame in her room, tears staining her cheeks.

"Come," I say, extending my hand to her. "Syrax and Darkfyre have not flown together in so long."

A shadow of a smile comes to her face as she nods and takes my hand, and together we find our way to the Dragonpit.

When we return the next morning with tired eyes and reeking of dragon as Aemma would say, I'm surprised to find Alicent waiting for me in my chambers.

Yet I'm more alarmed at her demeanour.

"Are you alright?" I ask, immediately jumping to the most likely reason. "Did you have a fight with your father?"

"Viserra," she says quietly, her voice a whisper. "There is something... I- I cannot confide it in anyone."

I look at her confused. "What of Rhaenyra?"

"Especially not Rhaenyra."

That's when my stomach drops at the guilt in her eyes, and so I reach out to take her hand with a promise "I'm not Rhaenyra."

When she looks back at me her brown eyes are filled with tears. "Promise me, promise you won't tell a soul."

I'd never considered myself to be one to take oaths seriously, but in this moment I know I'll take whatever she says to the grave. "I swear it."

And somehow, despite who my father is, despite who I am, she trusts me.

"My father," she begins, voice weak. "He- he asked me to comfort the king."

A sentence that would sound so innocent if I did not know her, did not know her father. "Alicent-"

"I never touched him," she immediately insists, trying to defend herself even though there is nothing to defend. "I just read to him, I swear it, I would never-"

"Shhh," I say, pulling her in tight by her hands, trying to calm her. "I know, it is not me you need to defend yourself to."

That's when she breaks down "If Rhaenyra knew..."

She does not need to finish that sentence, for we both know well how she would react. She is rash, quick to temper, more my fathers daughter than I at times, she would take it as a betrayal and not let it go regardless of the truth.

"She doesn't need to know," I say, going against whatever morals Aemma tried to instil in me, honesty and integrity be damned. They are never things my father taught me. "Your father sent you to him, to his chambers?" She nods, not meeting my eye. "Nothing more happened, I believe that. You are not a seductress nor a mistress. You are a girl whose father is an ambitious man, this is his scheme not yours."

Her eyes are wide, afraid. "She won't believe that."

"But I do," I say, only then becoming aware of how close we are, and I take her face in my hands. "Our fathers despise one another for good reasons, my father is reckless and murderous and yours is calculating and starving for power, they are the second sons and always will be despite their best wishes. We do not need to be the pawns in their schemes."

She blinks at me confused. "Your father loves you, when has he ever used you?"

He hasn't. "You're right. My father merely wishes to rise me to his station, to Rhaenyra's, all he's done is try to make me a true Targaryen out of love. Your's would raise you to something far more dangerous, to be queen to further his own ambition."

She knows it, somewhere she must, but she sees little wrong. "What else is the purpose of a daughter?"

My heart breaks a little, breaks in realisation that my father may be the only one in Westeros who would never dream of marrying me off for his own standing, who would burn a man's city down before giving me as a bride. Then there's Otto Hightower.

It's then the door opens and there stands the bastard himself, the look on his face confuses me until I realise how he has caught us, in an embrace that would have me castrated if I was a man.

Alicent quickly drops my hands, lowering her head as her father enters and I stand there defiant at the man who would have his daughter, not even yet five and ten, a mistress for the king.

"Lord Hand," I say stiffly. "Is something the matter?"

If I was a man there certainly would be, but I am a girl, a girl found in an embrace with her companion. There is nothing wrong with it that he can justifiably make a fuss of.

But he seems not to mind, for there is already a smirk on his face. "Your father has been exiled."

I feel Alicents head whip around to me and I stand there, my blood turning cold as she grabs my arm and asks her father "What for?"

In Otto Hightower's eyes is the gleam of victory over my father, over me. He's basking in it.

"The heir for a day."

My head snaps up at those words, having heard my father remark them offhandedly after the funeral. "Where is the king?"

"You are not permitted to see him," he replies. "I have come to instruct you to pack your things, you may join your father or we can arrange for you to be taken to your stepmother in the Vale."

Alicent looks at her father in disbelief. "You can't mean-"

"I'm to be exiled as well?" I scoff, letting go of Alicent to confront her father. "Is this the king's order or yours?"

He pauses for just a moment too long and I'm pushing past him.

"Lady Viserra!"

I ignore him, running through the halls and attracting the attention of the Kingsguard who follow at the behest of Otto, yelling out orders from behind me, but it all stops the moment I enter the throne room and find Viserys sitting upon the throne.

"Uncle!" I cry out and he looks upon me in concern, out of breath and desperate as I come to my knees before the throne. "Uncle please, don't do this."

He sighs. "Viserra, if you are here to plead on behalf of your father-"

"What he said was regrettable, but exile?"

"It was not a decision I made lightly," he tries to reason. "I know you love your father, but you and I know better than any what sort of man he is."

"One who loves his brother and his king!" I argue getting to my feet as I hear Otto and the rest storming the throne room and even Viserys is alarmed by the sight. "Unlike this cunt here, who's revelling in getting rid of my father and I both!"

The throne room is silent until Viserys speaks. "Otto, did you tell the princess she is to be exiled along with Daemon?"

"She is no princess," he replies now my father is not here to take his tongue. "She is a bastard just as heinous as her father who will corrupt your daughter and mine both. Look at her now, causing a scene after I simply asked her to stay with her stepmother in the Vale."

Before Viserys can speak I turn to look at him, my voice as dangerous as my fathers. "If he were here he'd take your tongue." It's only then I see Alicent in the shadows watching on and something in my voice changes. "But I suppose that's the curse of second sons isn't it? To always be scraping at whatever scraps of power they can get? Even if it is throwing the daughter of your rival out of her own home behind the back of your king."

Viserys stands, voice as harsh as I've ever heard it. "I have lost my wife, I have lost my son, and now my brother. You would have my niece removed from this keep without my knowing? Have her taken from Rhaenyra's side as she is in mourning? All for the spite you bear her father!"

Otto is silent, having been put in his place by his king and a girl of four and ten.

Viserys must see Alicent in the shadows for he asks her "Lady Alicent, escort my niece back to her chambers."

I can almost feel Otto's blood boiling at his daughter being asked to wait on a bastard, but she doesn't see it that way, for she steps out of the shadows to take my arm.

"Thank you uncle," I say, leaving him and Otto to their devices. "But may I see my father off?"

A risky request, but he permits it. "Of course Viserra."

And so I find my father readying Caraxes at the dragon pit with a whore at his side.

"Father."

He turns to me, unsurprised to see me. "Good you're here, I've had the dragon keepers ready Darkfyre."

I just shake my head in disgust. "The heir for a day."

He sighs. "Yes I'll admit, it was distasteful, but it's said and done now. We're leaving for Dragonstone."

Something in the casualness of his voice makes something snap inside me. "And you never thought to come and get your daughter when you were being exiled?"

He merely shrugs. "I knew you'd find me."

"Except it was Otto Hightower who found me!" I yell and that gets his attention as he finally turns to look at me properly. "Is that how you wanted me to find out, him coming to my chambers revelling as he tells me we've both been exiled."

That's when it hits him. "If my brother-"

"Viserys was the one who fought for me, who stood up for me when Otto tried to have me exiled without his knowledge," I argue and scoff "While I had to defend myself against Otto Hightower in the throne room you were getting your whore and leaving me to the rats!"

The whore looks away as my father comes up to me, using a tone he rarely does. "Have you ever thought that my treatment of you is not neglect but rather faith? Faith that you don't need to be babied and managed like a child but instead treating you as you are, a dragon rider."

But I just look up at him, almost laughing with anger. "He called me a bastard, used it as justification to be rid of me. That I'm as heinous as you."

The look in his eye changes and his hand is on his sword. "If I was there-"

"You would have taken his tongue?" I finish. "Except you weren't. You were off with your whore, just like you were when you should have been with your brother mourning."

"It wasn't my wife who died, if it was I would have rented out the entire street to celebrate instead of three brothels."

I look at her, deciding to hit him where it hurts. "Try not to father another bastard seeing as you're content to damn the one you already have to a life of exile for a joke and a whore."

He grabs me, fingers bruising my arm, I try to pull it free but he doesn't let go. "Everything I have ever done is for you, and you fucking know it. If you want to be cruel so can I." I hold his eye, defiant. "I could be like Otto Hightower and sell you off the first chance that comes by, I could discard you, I could sell you to the brothels like bastard girls are. But here you are, a dragonrider and a Targaryen by name. The only reason that is, is because of me."

Despite the anger in his voice I see the fear in his eyes, the fear of losing the last person he has, the one who should love him unconditionally despite his sins.

"I'm staying here in Kings Landing," I say quietly, the cruellest words I could say at this very moment. He stares at me in disbelief, expecting me to follow it up with some type of contradiction, but I don't, and it's then he lets me go. "Did you ever realise Aemma was the closest thing I ever had to a mother?" He's silent, not realising I was mourning her also. "I needed you, and you ran off to the brothel to mourn the fact you had been disinherited. It would have only been for a day as you'd put so vocally if not for your own selfish desire to usurp what is Rhaenyra's."

I hit him where it hurts without realising it. "Do you think it was selfish wanting you to be my heir?"

"It was never about me, only you," I say with sorrow. "You know damn well a bastard would never stand to inherit the Iron Throne, and yet you would take it regardless of the crisis that would follow."

"I would," he says, without taking a moment to hesitate. "I would-"

"Have your niece?" I retort and for the first time I've caught him off guard. "I'm not blind, just disgusted." I look to his whore. "Don't be surprised if he tosses you aside for someone blonder and younger since he seems to desire girls who are barely bleeders."

He scoffs. "You make me sound horrible, this has nothing to do with desire."

"So you seduce your niece for the throne," I realise. "Because how could you ever truly be disinherited with her by your side?"

He ignores me, instead justifying it. "I have raised the greatest dragonrider there is, raised a true Valyrian, and yet despite you having every symbol of legitimacy you are still denied, no one would dare utter the word bastard if I stood to inherit the throne."

I see his delusion so clearly, even if it is spurned by love rather than ambition, it is still delusion.

"I have come to terms with what I am, now you must also."

With those words I turn my back on my father, my face does not betray how my heart cries but Darkfyre does. Her cries echoing as I return to the Red Keep.

When I make it back to my chambers it is not Rhaenyra or Viserys who stand there to offer comfort, but Alicent.

"I'm sorry," she says, but I have no more words left, instead walking into her embrace and holding her tight. Both of us bound now as the motherless daughters of second sons maddened by their own wants and ambitions.

Yet somehow the prospect is easier knowing I am not alone.

Days later we stand side by side as Rhaenyra is sworn as heir to the Iron Throne. My father has seized Dragonstone, a seat that should be her's now by right. He's gone while I remain.

And so I make the decision that will enrage my father, but one that is right.

"Lady Viserra Targaryen, daughter of Daemon Targaryen."

I step forward and kneel before Rhaenyra as I make my oath to her.

"I, Viserra Targaryen, swear to be faithful to King Viserys and his named heir, the princess Rhaenyra. I pledge fealty to them and shall defend them against all enemies in good faith and without deceit." I look up, knowing my oath is the one that has gathered the most attention of all in this room, a daughter betraying her father. "I swear this by the old gods and the new."

I stand and look Rhaenyra in the eye, my friend, my sister in all but name, and pray I have made the right decision.

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