Chapter Text
After the passing of King Viserys, Alicent and her daughters left King’s Landing almost immediately. Queen Rhaenyra was heard telling them they need not leave their home so soon but the former Queen was adamant. Queen Rhaenyra made sure to send the Dowager Queen and the four Princesses back to Oldtown with a large convoy of guards to ensure their protection. Many in the Realm still believed the girls were not actually the late King’s daughters and so found it eminently gracious of Rhaenyra to take such prodigious care of them. The girls all eventually married lower nobility, losing their Targaryen name and largely fading into obscurity.
Otto had remained in the black cells for a few moons before succumbing to his fate. Daemon had enjoyed taunting the man, leaving him in a state of uncertainty deep in the bowels of the Red Keep. Absent of light and any discernible routine, the passing of days was impossible to track. The man eventually went mad before succumbing to the poor conditions of the black cells. Despite how indispensable Otto thought himself the King was so near death he never spoke about his once favored Hand. The rest of the council noticed his absence but no one ever really inquired as to where he was. It seems he had won himself no allies or true friends on the small council. It gave Daemon a sick sort of pleasure to know that the man who fought so hard to have his name go down in history was so easily forgotten. The man just disappeared one day and faded from existence. Otto Hightower would occupy barely more than a footnote in history and that was enough revenge for them.
The King’s condition worsened after the return of his daughter and brother. The court whispered that the excitement was too much for his weakened state. In actuality, hearing of Rhaenyra and Daemon’s marriage and hoard of dragon riding children had broken him. He could not fathom how the Gods had favored his daughter and his dissolute brother over him. Before long he too was lost to the present world. His mind conjured hallucinations that plagued him. He spoke as if seeing his departed wife, Aemma. His ramblings were almost impossible to determine. Rhaenyra and Daemon kept him secured in his chambers with only those most loyal to them to attend him. The day he finally passed was an ordinary one. His ravings had ceased and the servants called for Rhaenyra and Daemon because of the change. Viserys laid on his bed, eyes unseeing. His end was near. His daughter and his brother sat by his side and said their goodbyes. When he finally closed his eyes and breathed his last they felt no real sadness for his passing. Only the sadness for the good memories they had of their father and brother. Perhaps they had some sadness for the potential life Viserys could have had. Their lives could have been so happy, united as a family if only he had made different choices.
Aemma would still be alive. Rhaenyra and Daemon would be wed and have all their children but without the challenges and difficulties it took to get there. No lasting unwanted marriage with Lady Rhea. No disapproval of the match. No need to flee in the middle of the night. The Velaryons would have remained at court. The skies of King’s Landing would be filled with dragons.
In the end the current reality was actually very similar to the dream world. The only differences were that Viserys and Aemma were no longer with them. After the King had passed, Rhaenyra immediately invited the Velaryons to return. The funeral was already planned and so things progressed swiftly. For appearances sake Rhaenyra had Syrax light the pyre though she felt he did not deserve the honor. As soon as it was proper the coronation would be held and the realm would see the strength their family still possessed. She and Rhaenys worked together to prepare for her coronation. The older woman took her under her wing and became a sort of mentor. Everything she had been taught and told to educate her on ascending the Iron Throne she now passed on to Rhaenyra. Daemon was often heard commenting that this was the ruler and successor that should have always been.
The coronation was a day to remember. The most dragons in recent memory filled the skies as the Lords came in droves to King’s Landing. Between the Velaryons and the royal family there were eleven dragons ready to welcome the masses to the Red Keep. Syrax, Caraxes, Arrax, Tyraxes, Gaelithox, Vermax, Meraxes, Tessarion, Meleys, Seasmoke and Vhagar were often seen flying together over the city. Daemon was in charge of assuring their wellbeing now that they did not chain any of the dragons. A space had been cleared on the outskirts of King’s Landing which served as a sort of nesting spot for the dragons but they still would meet at the dragonpit to reunite with their riders.
When Rhaenyra sat on the Iron Throne for the first time she had been surprised at how comfortable she found it. In her mind even if it was made for sitting the swords would ensure a rather uncomfortable seat. She knew the history of the throne well by now and was gratified to note that the Gods obviously found her worthy of sitting the Iron Throne. She ruled well and the history books would remember her reign as prosperous and fair.
In the end, a King should never sit easy but perhaps a Queen might.