The Prince of Whispers Chapter 23: Succession Crisis

101 AC

Aegon loved to watch the waves crash into the rocks from the beachhead near the secret tunnel that led to the Red Keep. He watched the rocks holding steady despite the relentless assault of the waves.

The will of his grandfather was like these rocks. It was unchanging and firm even against the relentless tides of the seas or time.

A month of mourning was declared following his father’s passing. But King Jaehaerys was not idle during this time. The man knew the realm was once again on edge with his designated heir’s death.

Unsurprisingly, he was summoned to his grandfather’s side.

“So, Corlys has started making his moves.” Jaehaerys said, pursing his lips and staring intently at the candle lighting up the otherwise dark chamber.

Aegon stood at the foot of his grandfather’s bed while he made his report to the King of the Seven Kingdoms. He hated being the bearer of bad news to his ailing grandfather, but there was no Hand of the King to delegate the realm’s running. The weight of administration once more fell on his grandfather, and Aegon had the unfortunate duty to light the sparks of the old conflict of succession further.

Taking a deep breath, Aegon squared his shoulders and prowled ahead.

“Unfortunately, yes.” Aegon nodded affirmatively. “Lord Corlys has reached out to many of his principal allies, the most prominent being Lord Boremund Baratheon.”

“You have squired for the man. What do you think he will do?” Jaehaerys asked.

‘We both know what Lord Boremund will do.’ Aegon said silently in his mind, but he allowed his grandfather to direct the conversation.

“Lord Boremund will staunchly support Princess Rhaenys and her claim to the throne. He is honour-bound to support his kin, and Lord Boremund holds the Princess in high regard.” Aegon said truthfully.

“Tis beginning.” Jaehaerys let out a breath he was holding and stared out of the window. “I knew that ungrateful snake would never let things be.”

Aegon stayed silent and contributed no further. He would have preferred to let things be, but Lord Corly started sending overtures to gather his allies and make another play for the Iron Throne.

Despite feeling Rhaenys’ cause was genuine, Aegon felt less inclined to stand on her side simply because of the naked ambition shown by Corlys Velaryon, especially so soon after the demise of his father. The man was quite intent on causing as much misery to his family, and Aegon was starting to feel some resentment towards his cousin’s husband.

But then again, his grandfather was the one first to initiate this fight within the family when he set aside Rhaenys’ claim to the Iron Throne. So, he supposed the Sea Snake was being prudent this time around.

“Aegon.”

He snapped out of his musings.

“Your grace.”

“I need to know where you stand, Aegon. Who do you think should inherit the throne? Your elder brother, Viserys, or your cousin, Rhaenys?” Jaehaerys asked, staring intently at him.

“I cannot be the one to tell you that, your grace. You must…” Aegon started to say with a flustered look.

“I’m your king, am I not?” Jaehaerys asked, cutting off his excuse.

“Yes, your grace.” Aegon nodded jerkily.

“I command you. Tell me, whom do you prefer on the Iron Throne?” Jaehaerys ordered with a fiery look in his eyes.

In that moment, he was reminded that he was standing before the greatest king the Targaryen dynasty had seen. He was also reminded that the succession was something deeply touching the mind of his grandfather.

So, Aegon thought from the view of his grandfather’s legacy and came to a swift answer.

“Viserys is the rightful king.” Aegon answered.

“Explain your reasoning?” Jaehaerys asked, leaning further into the pillow, but Aegon could see his grandfather was relaxed.

“Because rights or laws don’t matter. What matters is your word – a king’s word is law. You named my father your heir, overlooking Rhaenys, who was in line to inherit after Uncle Aemon’s passing, which means Viserys is in line to inherit. You cannot change your decision and reinstate Rhaenys as your heir. If you did, it’ll send a message of weakness.” Aegon answered honestly.

Jaeherys stared at Aegon for a long moment in silence before he cracked a small smile.

 “I honestly thought you’d have declared your support for Rhaenys.” Jaehaerys said.

“She is far more capable than Viserys in the affairs of the Seven Kingdoms. She has a strong will, the temperament, the knowledge, and the dragon to impose her will upon her subjects. If you hadn’t already declared my father as your heir, I’d have suggested her name.” Aegon said truthfully.

“I know you admire her a lot, but you must consider who is pulling her strings.”

“The Sea Snake.” Aegon said with a nod.

Though he liked to think Rhaenys was capable of standing tall and distinguishing herself from the long shadow cast by her powerful and ambitious husband, the truth of the matter was that the perception would always be that the Sea Snake ruled the Seven Kingdoms. There was also the simple fact that the Sea Snake would become so powerful without a peer should Rhaenys inherit the Iron Throne.

“Yes, that ambitious rascal who does not know his place.” Jaehaerys scowled. “Because of that man, I must make alternative plans to ensure Viserys’ ascension.”

“Alternative plans, your grace?” Aegon asked curiously.

“Yes. Have you completed the other task I gave you?” Jaehaerys asked instead of answering his query.

“I have, your grace.” Aegon said before holding out a leaf of parchment containing all the details his spies had unearthed from Oldtown.

“Ser Otto Hightower, knighted at the age of ten and seven by Ser William Hightower, a knight of good repute. A well learned man who learned under the tutelage of Archmaester Elwyn, a respected scholar in the Citadel. Ser Otto’s talent in trade and the upkeep of Oldtown’s harbours are well known. He also serves as Lord Henry Hightower’s advisor in the matters of administration, taking a significant role in the court of Hightower.” Aegon regaled the information in the parchment.

“He has considerable influence in the Citadel and with the High Septon?” Jaehaerys asked.

“His brother, Lord Elwyn, wields that influence.” Aegon corrected his grandfather.

“Which means Otto Hightower has that influence through his brother.” Jaehaerys said, while eyeing Aegon with a curious look. “You disapprove, why?”

“I do not like what you’re hoping to accomplish, grandfather.” Aegon said with a cautious tone.

“What am I hoping to accomplish, Aegon?” Jaehaerys asked curiously.  

“You’re hoping to tie the Hightowers to Viserys’ cause. You’re hoping their influence will give Viserys the support of the Faith and use their connections to the Citadel to influence the lords of the realm to flock to Viserys’ side.” Aegon answered, but he made his displeasure known with his face.

“You disapprove.” Jaehaerys observed as he rubbed his beard. “Why?”

“The Conqueror tried to tie House Targaryen and House Hightower. Look how that ended.” Aegon said.

“It was Maegor’s fault. That demon had no sense but only barbarity in his mind.” Jaehaerys said with a scoff.

“I thought you were a wise man, grandfather. But even now, you refuse to look beyond your hatred of Maegor and see the mistakes of the past.”

“Oh!” Jaehaerys looked at him mockingly. “Are you implying you’ve grown wise, boy?”

Aegon did not deign to answer such a silly question. Instead, he made his stand clear.

“I disapprove of involving House Hightower in family disputes. The moment we involve outsiders in the matters of family, we invite discord, ambition and danger onto our doorstep.” Aegon warned, as frustration grew in his mind, for his grandfather refused to see the similarities between the Velaryons and the Hightowers.

House Velaryon and House Hightower were some of the most powerful and richest houses in Westeros. Out of the two, Aegon would consider the Hightowers the most dangerous. Their hold on the Starry Sept and the Citadel made them highly influential and a dangerous beast in the matters of politics.  

Though they had yet to act disfavourably against House Targaryen, Aegon felt it was a bad idea to involve them in what was essentially a family dispute.

“Then what do you suggest I do?” Jaehaerys asked with a glare.

“Call a Great Council. Invite the Lords Paramount. Declare Viserys as your heir and order them to accept the succession. Make it clear that Viserys is your chosen heir.” Aegon advised in a much calmer manner.

“Corlys Velaryon won’t stand for it. He’ll have Lord Boremund speak for his cause. And make no mistake, the Sea Snake’s cause is only strengthened by Laenor Velaryon’s birth.”

“Trust me, your word will be enough to curtail Lord Velaryon’s ambitions.” Aegon appealed to his grandfather earnestly.

“If you’re wrong… what then, my dear grandson?” Jaehaerys asked with a sigh. “If Lord Boremund and Corlys manage to sway others to their cause, what then?”

Aegon took a deep breath and stared resolutely into his grandfather’s eyes.

“If your decision is not enough to stay the hand of Lord Corlys, then Fiendfyre and Caraxes will defend your order with dragonfire.”

“No! I’ll not let the last days of my reign be spent watching dragons fight in the sky over my throne.” Jaehaerys said firmly.

“It’ll not come to that, grandfather.” Aegon said earnestly, seeing the flash of fear in his grandfather’s eyes.

“I cannot take any chances, Aegon. The Iron Throne is my legacy, and I will defend it by any means necessary.” Jaehaerys said firmly. “But you’re right on one thing, boy. There will be a need for a Great Council.”

Aegon looked at his grandfather in askance.

“The high lords from across the Seven Kingdoms will be invited to choose their King. I’ll not declare my chosen heir. Instead, Viserys will have to gain the support of the lords of the realm he wishes to govern.” Jaehaerys declared.

Aegon felt a sense of doom at those words. It was the most disastrous outcome he could’ve hoped for as it left much power in the hands of ambitious lords. He could now see why his grandfather sought Ser Otto Hightower. The concessions his grandfather would have to agree to in the shadows would barter away so much power to many ambitious lords for their support. He felt like he was watching everything his family bled for was crumbling before his eyes, and Aegon was left powerless to stop it.

******

Aegon immediately ran to his brothers and gathered them for a meeting. As he expected, Daemon was far from amused by his grandfather’s decision to call a Great Council.

“Why would he do this? Has the old man gone senile?” Daemon thundered and threw a gold chalice against the wall of Viserys’ chamber in rage.

“I’m sure our grandfather has thought this deeply…” Viserys tried to console his rageful brother, but it had the opposite effect.

“Haa!” Daemon stood on his feet with anger in his veins. “Don’t you dare make excuses for what he did, brother. He has gone soft in his old age and betrayed our father’s memory.”

“Calm down, brother.” Viserys said firmly, or at least tried to, but it had no effect on Daemon.

When his attempts saw no effect, he turned to Aegon.

“Aegon…” Viserys started to say, but Aegon cut him off.

“Daemon is right in saying our grandfather has insulted our father’s memory.” Aegon said coldly.

“You see… he understands what the old man has done.” Daemon yelled, jabbing a finger in Aegon’s direction.

“But I don’t think it’s our grandfather’s decision to call the Great Council that ought to be the greatest of threats. It’s what he has forced Viserys to do in this great Council that will bring more damage to our family.” Aegon said with a scowl.

“What do you mean, brother?” Viserys asked warily.

“To gather support, you’ll have to make concessions with the lords of the Seven Kingdoms. This leaves a bad precedent as you’ll essentially be bribing for a position you’re already deserving of.” Aegon said with disappointment. “Our grandfather, in his pride, has chosen to barter away favours and concessions to grasping lords of the realm.”

“Perhaps, it’ll not be as bad as we think. If the alternative is war, I suppose a Great Council will be a much better way forward to decide the succession.” Viserys said gently.

“I’d welcome war rather than this pitiful drama the old man has commanded. He is playing us like puppets on a string and watching us struggle for his amusement.” Daemon complained.

“Stop insulting his grace at once, Daemon. Remember, he is our grandfather but also our king.” Viserys admonished.

But Daemon only huffed and marched out of Viserys’ chamber while muttering insults under his breath.

“Aegon, please look after Daemon. This is not the time to antagonise grandfather.” Viserys said.

Aegon nodded and stood up to chase after Daemon. But he stopped at the doorway on his way out.

“Otto Hightower will be chosen as Hand by our grandfather. Please be on guard around that man.” Aegon warned.

Viserys nodded in all seriousness.

Aegon chased after Daemon and found himself entering Daemon’s personal chambers.

“Are you here to tell me not to make a ruckus before the old man?” Daemon asked, sitting on a couch in one of the darkest corners of the room.

“No. You’ll do as you wish despite whatever anyone else may say.” Aegon said before he took two blunted practice swords hanging on the wall of his brother’s chambers. “I’m here to help you bleed that anger before you say something aloud in court that might diminish the chances of Viserys.”

“I think our grandfather needs to hear some choice words.” Daemon growled.

“Say those to me in the practice field.” Aegon said, throwing a practice sword into Daemon’s lap. “Come, brother.”

Fortunately, Aegon managed to bring Daemon out into the training yard.

“Let the anger speak through your blade.” Aegon said as they took their stance across each other.

Daemon scoffed, but his fingers curled around the hilt. Without another word, he stepped forward.

The first clash of their blades rang like a cry of war.

They moved like the tide, first advancing, then retreating, circling one another with the fluid familiarity of years of training under the best among the Kingsguard knights. Daemon’s strikes were wild and furious—powerful overhead slashes and low sweeps aimed to unbalance. Aegon met them with calm precision, parrying deftly, redirecting, deflecting.

“You should be angry,” Aegon said between clashes. “It was a slight.”

“It was insulting,” Daemon spat, his breath ragged. “Viserys is our father’s heir! What is the need for a council? What need for the realm’s approval?”

“Our grandfather, in his wisdom, hopes to avoid a conflict and at the same time show Lord Corlys the lords of the realm would flock behind Viserys.” Aegon said while parrying a strike aimed at his ribs and sidestepping another slash that came too close to his head for comfort.

“We are dragons,” Daemon snarled. “We do not beg for approval from sheep and mules!”

He lunged. Aegon barely dodged the thrust, pivoting to land a light strike on Daemon’s shoulder.

“That temper of yours will be your undoing.”

“Then let it be,” Daemon hissed.

Daemon pressed forward, ignoring the sting of the hit.

“I’d rather fight for the throne than sit quietly as those lesser than us decide our fate.”

Aegon blocked a ferocious flurry, his own feet sliding back in the gravel. Daemon managed to lock his sword with his and he twisted with speed, forcing Aegon to stumble.

And then, as Daemon overreached, Aegon swept his leg out and caught him behind the knee. With a thud, Daemon dropped to the ground.

The two brothers stood in silence for a long moment, until Daemon let out a bark of bitter laughter.

“You have learned some new tricks, brother.” Daemon said with a chuckle.

“You’re clearly the better swordsman. I need my tricks to gain the upper hand.” Aegon said with a smile and offered a hand.

Daemon stared at it a moment before gripping it and pulling himself to his feet.

“I hate it,” Daemon muttered. “This waiting… this… farce. All of it.”

“The decision has been made. It’s time for us to accept the challenge set by our grandfather and win.” Aegon said, catching his breath. “Remember what father said.”

Daemon nodded, remembering the last words their father spoke to them on his deathbed.

“Come. I need some wine.” Daemon said, and together they retired to Daemon’s chambers.

They sat together, and Daemon poured wine into two cups.

“My spies inform me Lord Corlys has sent envoys to many sellsails based out of the Free Cities. He is gathering a fleet in Driftmark.” Aegon started before taking a sip from the cup.

“The Sea Snake is gathering strength to force the matter of succession. Then we’ll burn his fleet to cinders.” Daemon said coldly.

“That’ll be an ill-advised act,” Aegon said with a guarded tone.

“Why not? Are you afraid of Rhaenys and her dragon?” Daemon asked with a scoff while draining a cup full of wine in one go.

Aegon merely rolled his eyes.

“Lord Boremund has thrown his support behind our cousin. We’ll not be merely facing the Sea Snake and his ships. We’ll be going against the might of the Stormlands and Rhaenys’ dragon.”

“Do you see fear in my eyes, brother?” Daemon asked with a raised eyebrow.

“No. But we can win without killing our mother’s dragon.” Aegon said with a pointed look. “Isn’t that worth discussing, brother?”  

Daemon mellowed out at the reminder that Rhaenys rode Meleys, the former dragon of their mother.

“I hate her for stealing Meleys.” Daemon said with a scowl.

“I think not. You’re just angry because you lost the chance to claim our mother’s dragon.” Aegon said with a knowing look.

“I mislike this conversation.” Daemon said with a frustrated grunt.

“We must endure many conversations like this if we hope to crown Viserys.” Aegon said with a smile.

“About Lord Baratheon… you squired under the man. Do you think your words will change his mind?” Daemon asked.

“Blood is thicker than water. Rhaenys is his niece. He’ll side with her in the Great Council.” Aegon answered honestly, earning a grunt from Daemon.

“But his vassals don’t share blood with our cousin.” Aegon gently reminded his brother with a smile.

“Hmm.” Daemon smirked at him. “Perhaps, you should visit these vassals and remind them House Baratheon may rule Storm’s End, but dragons rule the Seven Kingdoms.”

“I’ll do that and also gently remind them that dragons have a long memory to remember who votes for whom.” Aegon said with a nod.

Daemon looked happy at that.

“What about the Crownlands?” Daemon asked, leaning forward in his seat.

“The men of Crackclaw Point will vote for Viserys.” Aegon said with confidence, but he leaned forward, his eyes fixed on his brother with a serious look. “However, you must pay a visit to those coastal houses with Caraxes. A subtle reminder that any offers of trade favours from Driftmark are fleeting promises before the wrath of the sons of Baelon.”

Daemon grinned and nodded.

“What about the rest of the Kingdoms?” Daemon asked.

“We’ll get to them in due time.” Aegon said with a wave of his hand before becoming serious. “There is one other matter that I wanted to discuss with you.”

“That being?”

“The new Hand our grandfather has chosen.” Aegon said with a serious look.

“What about him?” Daemon asked with a frown.

“House Hightower is the patron of the Citadel and the Starry Sept. They have control over two of the most powerful institutions that have enormous influence across the Seven Kingdoms, and they are not lacking in wealth. It’s a dangerous combination.”

“A second son with nothing much to inherit but backed by the strength of his house. Ambitious and dangerous like the two of us.” Daemon said slowly.

“Yes.” Aegon nodded seriously. “That man will need to be watched. He does not have the best interests of our family in mind, and he is ascending to a position of power when the king is physically weak and our family is tearing itself apart. This is an opportune moment for a brilliant young lord to rise in court.”

“Who suggested Ser Otto’s name?” Daemon asked curiously while rubbing his fingers with a thoughtful frown.

“I have it on good authority that Grand Maester Runcitor was the one to suggest the man for the position.” Aegon answered.

“I see.” Daemon raised an eyebrow. “Ser Otto already has a powerful friend in the Small Council.”

“He’ll have more once he reaches the city. We must be careful around Maesters, acolytes and the men and women of the Faith.” Aegon warned.

“Our grandfather has seen fit to invite the worst poisonous snakes into the Red Keep. Let’s see how many we can burn out of our home by the time of the Great Council.” Daemon said with a vindictive glint in his eyes.

******

In a quiet chamber overlooking Blackwater Bay, lit only by a lone candle and the soft glow of embers in the hearth, Aegon stared at the stars in the night sky through the open window. Gael lay with her head against his chest, fingers tracing the shape of his collarbone while he let his fingers glide through her silver mane.

He felt at peace here. His wife’s warmth chased the worries in his mind, and the troubles of court were a distant whisper.

Her skin was warm beneath his fingers, and the steady beat of her heart soothed him. Aegon’s arm wrapped around her, his fingers absentmindedly drawing slow circles against the small of her back.

They had not spoken since their lips first met an hour past, when words became sighs and moans of love. The silk bedsheets tangled around their legs, and the chamber still carried the scent of their passion.

Aegon broke the silence first.

“You’re quiet,” he murmured, brushing a lock of her silvery-gold hair from her cheek and tucking it gently behind her ear. “Not like you.”

“I’m thinking,” Gael said softly, nuzzling against his chest. “About you. About us.”

“Worried?” Aegon asked, tilting her chin with a finger and looked into her violet eyes.

She shook her head and smiled brilliantly.

“No. Happy.”

He leaned in and kissed her forehead, lips lingering.

“I’m glad we came back. You smile more often.” Aegon said lovingly.

Gael’s smile deepened, but there was a flicker of nervousness in her gaze. She bit her lip, suddenly bashful.

“I need to tell you something,” she said, sitting up slowly, the sheet falling to her waist.

Aegon pushed himself up on one elbow, drinking in her bare form, the curve of her shoulders, the softness in her eyes.

“What is it?”

She looked at him for a long moment, and then she said it.

“I’m with child.”

Silence. The wind whistled past Aegon’s ears, carrying the scent of lilac and lemon blossom from the garden of their balcony.

Aegon blinked once. Then again. Gael remained entirely serious, and he realised with a sharp breath the true meaning of what she said.  

“You’re…?” Aegon whispered, a strange tingle passing through his body.

Gael nodded, both hands resting gently on her belly.

“A month, perhaps a little more. I wasn’t sure at first, but now… I checked with the Grand Maester. I’m pregnant.”

The breath Aegon had not realised he was holding rushed out of him. His hand found hers, splayed across her stomach.

“A child,” he whispered, awe creeping into his voice. “Our child. I’m going to be a father and you’re going to be a mother.”

“Yes.” Gael smiled, and they laughed while sharing a kiss of joy.

“So, a boy or a girl?” Gael asked after they calmed down and held each other with every part of their being, enriched in joy.

“Doesn’t matter. A boy or a girl, we’ll love them all the same.” Aegon declared, happily holding onto the love of his life, for he felt like the luckiest man in the world.