Chapter Text
Viserys sat as he watched his whole family sit together eating a noon day meal. It was a rare moment when Daemon was home and for once Viserys was not upset with his brother for returning without his invitation. Rhaenyra was thrilled that her uncle had come home and so he would be remaining in the capital for the time being. The table was filled with the soothing sounds of High Valyrian as uncle and niece spoke rapidly together. Viserys watched with an indulgent smile on his face. To his left he could see the uncertain look on his new wife Alicent’s face. He should reprimand his daughter and his brother for their exclusion of Alicent since they were both aware she did not speak the language but he was too relieved to object. This was the first time he had seen Rhaenyra smile so easily since the loss of his sweet Aemma. His heart still aches when he thinks of her. As much as he should still wish Daemon gone for his callous words the night of his banishment he knew that allowing Rhaenyra to spend time with her uncle was a small step towards regaining her spirits which had seemed to enter a permanent low state since her mothers funeral.
He was just about to join in their conversation when a loud roar was heard. He startled and frowned in confusion. That sounded like . . . The dragon roared again and he shared a look with his brother. Vhagar. What was Vhagar doing here now? Viserys stood and walked to the window to look for the dragon. He felt Daemon quickly appear at his side. Vhagar was not difficult to find; she was an old dragon and the largest in the known world and her body seemed to take up the whole sky. He watched as Vhagar turned to fly around the castle and his body went rigid. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Daemon doing the same. On Vhagar’s back there was a rider.
They watched in stunned silence as the rider directed Vhagar to the Red Keeps courtyard instead of the Dragonpit and all at once they were running. He saw Rhaenyra follow after them but did not see whether Alicent joined her or not.
They rushed outside just as Vhagar’s massive body shook the ground as she landed hard. Viserys could hear scattered screams as the old dragon let out an ear piercing roar. Vhagar lowered her head and they were finally able to see just who was upon her back. The earth seemed to sway under him as his eyes took in the silver haired man.
Father?
It was impossible! He wanted to look at Daemon to see if his brother was seeing the same thing he was or if he had gone mad but he could not tear his eyes away from the image of his father as he climbed down from Vhagar’s back. It was unmistakable. His father stood before them, every bit the Spring Prince he was remembered as.
“My sons.” Baelon said with a smile as his arms outstretched as if to welcome their embrace.
Viserys staggered forward to grab at his father’s shoulders.
“Father?” He breathed out. “Is this a dream? Are you really here? Or have the Gods seen fit to torment me with a vision of you?” Viserys mutters.
Baelon let out a choked laugh. “I am really here, my son.”
His voice. This was his father’s voice. He would never forget it. Tears began to stream down his face as he fairly collapsed against his father’s strong frame. Warm hands rubbed his back as the soothing sounds of Valyrian melted over him. When he had somewhat composed himself he stepped back to look into his father’s violet eyes. Maybe he was dreaming but even if he was he would thank the Gods for this chance to see his father one more time.
His father’s eyes flickered slightly behind him where his brother still stood in shock.
“Daemon?” Baelon called.
“Is this a trick?” Daemon spat but Viserys could see the fear in his eyes, the fear that this was not real, that their father had not returned to them. Always so skeptical, his little brother.
“It’s me, Daemon.” His father assured him.
“How can we know this is not some sorcerer's spell or illusion? How do we know you are who you say you are?” Daemon demanded.
If Viserys thought their father would be offended by Daemon’s disbelief he was wrong. In fact Daemon’s questions seemed to amuse him. Baelon gave a thoughtful look before a very familiar wicked gleam entered his eyes.
“When you were around 9 or 10 name days old you developed a crush on one of the maids in the Red Keep. You tried to woo her by showcasing your newly acquired hunting skills. You killed a hawk and left it in her room as a gift. That poor maid screamed so loud when she found the dead hawk on her bed that she had practically the whole Keep in an uproar. It was explained away as a prank and eventually it was forgotten but I was the one who took you hawking to acquire your gift and so only you and I are aware of the true reason behind the wayward deceased bird.” Baelon finished with a cheeky grin.
Daemon’s mouth dropped open. It seemed credibility had been established. Viserys watched with joy as his usually impervious brother let out a choked sob before rushing to join them in a group embrace. Viserys clutched at his father’s tunic while simultaneously rubbing the top of Daemon’s back as the men all smiled and cried together.
“How?” He heard Daemon’s whisper.
His father let out a wet chuckle. “I don’t know. I heard the voice of Arrax telling me that my family needed me. The next thing I knew I was waking up in a cave on Dragonstone. I crawled to the entrance and found Vhagar waiting for me. Once I got my bearings we were flying home to you.” He said with a helpless shrug.
“Things have not been the same since you died, father,” Daemon whispered before burrowing further into their father’s shoulder. “The Gods were right, we need you.”
Viserys felt unequal to adding to Daemon’s heartfelt words and simply nodded his agreement. He had felt so lost after their father suddenly died. Losing his presence and council left him with the constant feeling of floundering about as he searched for clear direction. It was indeed a gift from the Gods that he was returned to them.
Eventually they managed to contain themselves enough for their surroundings to penetrate their reunion. A small cluster of court Lords and Ladies could be seen hovering around the Keeps entrance while servants could be spied peeking from other vantage points. More importantly was Rhaenyra’s close presence that was becoming closer still as she hesitantly walked towards them. Viserys saw the exact moment his father realized who she was for his eyes lit up in happiness.
“Little Rhaenyra! The last time I saw you you were just a babe, now look at you! You’ve grown into a beautiful young woman.”
Viserys watched Rhaenyra preen at his words. Baelon reached forward to bestow a kiss on her brow before wrapping her in a fierce hug. Viserys did not think he could be any happier than he was at this moment. Just as he had that thought his father’s eyes scanned the yard before turning back to him.
“Where is Aemma?”
Viserys paled at the question and his heart dropped to his stomach. He swallowed hard in order to answer his father’s question.
“Aemma is gone,” He choked out. “She died a year ago giving birth to our son, who unfortunately did not survive.” Viserys says sadly.
Baelon’s face is immediately filled with sadness and regret, no doubt with the painful reminder of his own wife's passing. He walked to his side and put his hand on Viserys’ shoulder.
“Oh my son. The birthing bed has claimed many women from our family.” He says in consideration.
The moment between father and son was broken by a harsh snort. He whirls around to see Rhaenyra staring at him with hatred and bitterness.
“It was not the birthing bed that claimed my mother’s life but Mello’s knife.” She spits at them.
Baelon frowns in confusion.
“What do you mean?” He asks.
Rheanyra scowls before she answers but he can see the pain burning in her eyes and it makes bile threaten to spill from his mouth.
“Mother was tired from the labor, the maesters told the King he could only save one of them, the babe or my mother, and so he allowed them to cut her open like an animal to pull the babe from her body. They did not even warn her!” Rhaenyra shouted. “They held her down as she screamed and pleaded for her life, unable to do anything other than watch as her beloved husband ordered her death.”
Baelon’s POV
Rhaenyra was panting by the time she finished her explanation, tears streaming down her face. Baelon was struck dumb with horror. No. His son would never . . he loved Aemma, he wouldn’t have . . But turning to lock eyes with his son he saw the truth written all over his face. Rhaenyra’s account was accurate. He turned back seeking to comfort his granddaughter but saw his youngest son was already performing that office. Rhaenyra was nestled in his arms as she sobbed against his chest. Daemon was rubbing her back and whispering soft words into her ear while keeping a wary eye on him and Viserys. He could not understand his reaction. What had happened to his family since he died?
In the midst of the turmoil a young woman had separated from the crowd and stepped forward. She looked vaguely familiar but he could not place her until Viserys saw her and beckoned her over.
“Alicent, come let me reintroduce you to my father.” Viserys said gently.
Baelon watched as the young woman hesitantly approached the group. Was she here for Rhaenyra? He seemed to recall she might have been part of his granddaughter's household years ago.
“Alicent Hightower?” He mused. “Is she still one of your companions Rhaenyra?” He asked. “It is kind of you to bestow your notice on the daughter of a second son, I’m sure the bonds of friendship from your youth have had something to do with that.”
The small smile on his face faltered when he saw the faces of Viserys and Alicent drain of color from his statement. He frowned in confusion.
Viserys cleared his throat. “Actually, father, Alicent is here for me. She is my wife.” Viserys said haltingly as he fidgeted.
Baelon’s jaw slacked and his eyes flit back and forth between his son and Alicent before they landed on her rounded stomach. Ice filled his veins.
“Viserys,” He said in a cold tone. “Did you not just say to me that Aemma died a year ago? Why then have you remarried so quickly and disgraced her memory? Your new wife is very clearly with child so either you completely disregarded your mourning period or you were bedding this woman while still married to Aemma,” He said in clipped tones. “So which is it?” He spat.
He could not recall a moment he had ever been so angry and disappointed in his son. Aemma was the sweetest, gentlest soul in all of Westeros. How was it that Viserys had treated her so poorly? Especially if Rhaenyra’s words about the circumstances of her mother’s death were true.
“Father!” Viserys exclaimed. “You know I would never be unfaithful to Aemma! I loved her!” He said defensively.
“And yet here you are with a new wife just a year after her death. If you did not betray Aemma while she was alive then you have betrayed her in death by making light of the proper mourning period by wedding another before a year had passed. And that is to say nothing of the manner of her death. If what Rhaenyra said is true, and judging by your face I can only assume it is, then you are no better than a kinslayer. I am ashamed of you.” Baelon glared at his oldest son as his words lingered in the stillness of the air.
“I . . I did not mean . . the Lords . . I needed to remarry . . for the good of the realm. I needed more heirs.” Viserys spoke haltingly as he strove to defend himself.
“What need have you for more heirs?” Baelon demanded. “You have Rhaenyra who is a dragon riding Princess and that is to say nothing of your brother and his children.”
Daemon scoffed loudly. “I have no children, father and I certainly will not while shackled to my bronze bitch.” He spat.
Baelon’s eyes swung from his youngest to his oldest. “Daemon is still wed to Lady Rhea?!” He yelped. “Why have you not annulled the marriage, Viserys? You know how much your brother hated the match? Why would you keep your own blood imprisoned by such an unwanted marriage when you, as King, have the power to undo it?”
“But, father, the match was made by your late mother, the Good Queen Alysanne. You yourself were present when the marriage occurred. Daemon simply needs to accept it and move on. If he would only settle down with Lady Rhea I’m sure he would already have children of his own,” Viserys said defensively.
“That sheep of a woman would sooner slit her own throat then allow me within ten feet of her dried up old cunt,” Daemon snorted.
“Viserys,” Baelon tried. “I’m aware I was present when Daemon was dragged into the Sept and forced to marry Lady Rhea but that does not mean I was fully in favor of the match. At the time I felt no good could come from opposing my parents given the tumultuous state of the royal family. I fully intended on annulling Daemon’s marriage when I became King should he still desire to dissolve it.”
Viserys paled at his father’s words. “But . . but you . .” He stuttered
Baelon took pity on him and approached to lay his hand on his son's shoulder.
“Viserys I can understand your desire to uphold the decisions made by your grandparents but by the Gods why would you follow that desire to the detriment of your own brother. The minute it became apparent the marriage would not bear any fruit and that Daemon and Lady Rhea were desiring of the annulment you should have released them both from such a prison.” Baelon explained.
Viserys seemed to remain confused but thankfully simply nodded at his father. Baelon would ensure the annulment was procured as soon as possible. He owed it to his youngest son for being unable to defend him when his mother had first proposed the match.
Turning he observed how Daemon and Rhaenyra remained wrapped in each other's arms. Some may have viewed it as an uncle simply comforting his niece but Baelon had been without his family for so long he was looking more closely than most. He saw Daemon’s usual cocky mask had melted away when he looked down at Rhaenyra and Rhaenyra returned his gaze with slightly pink cheeks. It was obvious to him that the two were enamored with each other and he wondered why Viserys seemed to see nothing of their regard for one another when he looked at them. Although it would be foolish to assume marriage was what they both desired from such a short encounter he had a feeling that his son and granddaughter were taken with each other to the point where no one else would do. Daemon had always been hot blooded and while Rhaenyra had only been little when he had died he could still remember how fiercely she had guarded her most precious possessions. It seemed they both held many of the same characteristics as their dragons and he knew well you never tried to take that which belonged to a dragon.
Viserys’ words brought him back to the present where his son was speaking to the crowd as much as to their family.
“Today we have received quite a shock but a most welcome one. Our family is truly blessed that the Gods have returned you to us father,” Viserys smiled happily and Baelon marveled how his son could so easily regain his equanimity in the wake of such a grave conversation.
“Come, father. I will have Otto prepare a great feast to celebrate!” Viserys said jovially.
“Otto? Otto Hightower? Why would he be in the capitol?” Baelon asked, puzzled.
“He is my Hand.” Viserys explained.
Baelon stared at his eldest son in horror.
“Otto Hightower is your Hand?! Viserys! What about your brother? Why would you choose a man like Otto Hightower over your brother? Otto was a snake when I was at court and that was obviously years ago. I can only imagine how much worse he has gotten since then. He was always much too interested in advancing his own family’s standing and influence. What were you thinking?” Baelon raged.
He saw Viserys’ blanche before he heard Daemon chuckle darkly behind him.
“Oh he has certainly gotten worse since your time, father. It was no doubt Otto’s influence that had Viserys choosing his own daughter over a more suitable match when Viserys decided he would remarry.”
Baelon nodded in agreement. “Yes, you always saw Otto for what he was. If I recall correctly you never cared for the man, Daemon.”
Instead of the smugly victorious look he expected he watched with puzzlement as Daemon ducked his head as if in embarrassment. Why would his words cause Daemon to react in this way? His eyes took in Rhaenyra who ducked under Daemon’s arm to whisper something to him. His son straightened at her words and nodded to her. He gave her shoulders a squeeze before they stepped apart slightly only for Daemon to offer her his arm to escort her. Yes those two were acting as if married already.
Baelon turned back towards Viserys to see the man had yet to regain his color and at his side Alicent also appeared a sickly shade of gray in the wake of his words.
“Come to think of it,” He heard Daemon muse behind him, “Doesn’t this mean that father is actually King now?”
Viserys’ mouth dropped open and although Baelon couldn’t see her he thought he heard Rhaenyra chuckle quietly at Daemon’s words.
“Now, now there is no need to discuss such things at the moment and certainly not with such an audience. Viserys, let us return to the Keep and we can speak as a family.”
Without further adieu they all made their way into the Red Keep, walking past gawking Lords and whispering Ladies. The servants scrambled to return to their posts as a few of the older Kingsguards looked as though they were seeing a ghost. To be fair that was probably not far off. Baelon still did not know exactly why the Gods had decided to return him to the land of the living but return he most certainly had for he had stared into the face of Balerions underworld before hearing Arrax’s words.
Upon entering the Red Keep they immediately made their way to the King’s solar so they could speak in relative privacy. Just before they reached their destination a harried Otto came rushing towards them, speaking as he reached them.
“Your Grace! I am told Vhagar has arrived and that she was seen carrying a rider.” Otto’s eyes sought out his son and did not seem to take in the rest of the group.
“Yes Otto, that is correct. You will see that the rider Vhagar was carrying is actually . . “ Viserys gestured towards him and Baelon watched Otto look at him first in confusion and then in panic and dread once recognition washed over his features.
“What sorcery is this,” He breathed. “No . . no you are dead! This is blasphemy! Your Grace, I know not what illusion or magic has created this but this is obviously some heretic sent here to trick you,” Otto raged.
“Otto, peace my old friend,” Viserys placated, “I am aware of how impossible this is but it is the truth. The Gods have returned my father to us and I shall be forever grateful to them.”
“Your Grace, I beg of you! Do not be deceived by whatever spirit or apparition is before you. I am aware of your great love for your father but you cannot believe this to actually be him returned to you. We must arrest this imposter at once! Guards take him to the black cells.” Otto ordered.
To Baelon’s shock a few of the Kingsguards actually stepped forward to do Otto’s bidding before Viserys’ words stopped them.
“Otto! Stop this! I know it is implausible but it is the truth. He knows things only my father knew. I believe, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that this man is truly my father who has returned from the dead.”
“No! It is not possible. Once something has died it cannot return. To imply otherwise is to go against the Seven.” Otto gestured wildly with his hands as his voice grew in agitation. “He is dead! He is dead! I made sure of it!” Otto yelled before abruptly paling and taking a step backwards at the realization of his unwitting confession.
Before anyone could blink Daemon had Dark Sister’s blade against Otto’s throat.
“What was that, Otto?” Daemon hissed. “Say that again will you. You made sure my father was dead.”
The silence was deafening and the stillness heavy with tension.
“Father?” Alicents whisper broke the paralysis that had claimed them all at Otto’s damning words.
“What’s this Otto?” Viserys’ hushed horror filled voice sounded loud against the oppressive silence. “What do you mean?”
“N . . nothing at all. Your Grace,” Otto stuttered, “I simply misspoke due to the shock at seeing the Prince again. I assure you I meant nothing by my words.”
Daemon pressed the tip of Dark Sister against the column of Otto’s throat, stalling any further excuses.
“It seems clear to me,” Baelon spoke with all the authority he felt in that moment, “that Otto Hightower has just confessed to my murder. Murder is a crime punishable by death but the murder of a member of the royal family is treason as well. Take him to the Black Cells until further notice.” Baelon’s command was met with only the slightest hesitation before the guards stepped forward to drag a screaming Otto away.
Baelon nodded at Daemon before facing Viserys who looked as though he may be sick on the floor.
“As much as I am glad to be back and to see you again my son, it seems you have much to answer for,” Baelon spoke gravely.
Viserys looked absolutely miserable as he absently nodded to his fathers words. Baelon looked at the people in the hall, his family, and knew he had been brought back to save them, even if the one he was saving them from was his own son.