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the bastard queen - chapter 1
the things we do for love.
Pairing: Original female! Targaryen/Arthur Dayne
A/n: au for Robertâs Rebellion. Enjoy!
Rating: Mature (+16)
The strangling tension can suffocate even the most strong-willed courtier. With the hint of charred corpses still lingering in the air, Arthur Dayne wonders if the king has changed his clothes since the last night, where he delighted himself with the pleading yells of two prisoners as wildfire devoured them and the rest of the people gathered in the Great Hall drowned in horror.
With the reliable Barristan Selmy guarding the meeting with him, his lilac eyes observe the men as they take their seats around the wooden table, only the naĂŻve Qarlton Chelsted and the newly appointed Hand Owen Merryweather to not show grim faces. The tension is palpable, a heavy cloak of discomfort wrapping around each lord present. The king's recent actions have instigated fear and uncertainty, even among the most loyal men.
As matters follow one to another, almost the whole group of men trying to decide what is best for the realm, Arthurâs mind is partly elsewhere, honed by years of duty and vigilance. His gaze, under the guise of passive surveillance, catches every subtle shift and twitch among those gathered. All of them or too cautious or too coward to dare and defy the monster with the crown upon his brow.
âWith your permission, Your Graceâ lord Merryweatherâs voice almost trembles with hesitation, fearful of the reaction of the king. âThere is a pressing matter this council has to discussâ Aerys raises a pointy eyebrow towards him, and Arthur can spot the slight curl of the king's lip, an ominous prelude to his temper which could ignite over the most trivial of provocations. âPrincess Valaenaâs marriage.â
This mention of the Princess Valaena, the beloved jewel of the kingdom, causes a distinct shift in the atmosphere of the room. The council members exchange wary glances as the name of the only daughter of the monarches is put over the table. They all have witnessed during the years the mood swifts and the affronts of Aerys towards his own daughter, branding her as âbastardâ, âdragonspawnâ or worse only because the colour of her hair is darker than the rest of her family, and they have developed various degrees of sympathy towards her. Arthur Dayne himself stiffens when Merryweather dares to speak her name, thinking of him as unfit to even think about his princess.
âWe should waitâ Rhaegar Targaryen, the Crowned Prince, also shows himself most uncomfortable in his chair with the idea of being separated from his beloved sister. âMy lady wife is still recovering and she gladly keeps her company. It would not be wise to rush matters.â
The tension around the table is palpable. A quick glance from Rhaegar to both kingsguards looks more like a plea than he actually wants to.
âNonsense!â the king screeches, the council apparently having passed over the menacing looks of the loon, with his nails more like claws pointing at his own son and heir and to his master of ships, who dares to agree with the prince. âThat girl will be useful to the crown for once in her life.â
âYour majestyâ lord Velaryon counterattacks, having properly made his work towards the eyes of the Mad King for quite a time, âwith your permission, I would suggest the lady Valaena to get married to me. Houses Velaryon and Targaryen have had a shared history towards the centuries, and Driftmark would prove a safe refuge to our much beloved princess.â
Aerys, his gaze sharp as the blades his ancestors wielded, seems to consider consider Velaryon's proposal with a mixture of intrigue and suspicion. Leaving hopes for a response hanging in the air like a thick fog, he seems to find amusement in the pause, rejoicing himself as he crashes Lucerys Velaryonâs hopes with an acrid cackle.
âDo you think that I would allow my only daughter to be pushed to the margins of my realm, hidden away on Driftmark, while I sit the Iron Throne?â Aerysâs voice rises, filled with annoyance and madness, and it seems that the balls of every member of the council shake on their pedestals over the table âHow dare you to even think of putting a hand on her!?â
It seems this time the protective father has taken the place of the abusive parent, and if it werenât for the space between them both, with Aerys sat at the head of the table and the Lord of the Tides almost at the other side of it, the king would have easily thrown his wine cup to his face, or even worse.
âYour Graceâ it is this time Lord Varysâ modulled voice to speak, and the whole bunch of men put their attention upon him, the Master of Whispers. The Spider. âI can think of a much more adequate suitor for the princessâ handâ his eyes dart towards Lucerys Velaryon, who just answers with a half lidded gaze behind his own cup. âStormâs End.â
He was just a lad when the tragedy of Shipbreakerâs Bay took place, only a mere squire to prince Lewyn before he joined the Kingsguard himself. The death of the beloved Steffon Baratheon and his lady Cassana stroke the Red Keep, with queen Rhaella helplessly weeping for them in the Great Sept of Baelor and the Mad King descending upon madness more quickly even.
âLord Steffon and lady Cassana died in a mission for the Crown, and the young stags would surely feel again protected by the Crown if their house would join house Targaryen again, like two generations ago with the arrival of princess Rhaelle.â
Both kingsguards exchange glances, almost like searching an explanation or even a support. If the only unsullied member of that wretched family was to be taken away, what could be awaiting around the corner?
âStormâs End seems the most appropriate place, fatherâ Rhaegarâs measured words leave Arthur and Barristan nonplussed. âRobert Baratheon is a force to be considered, and Valaena can be the most ideal way to make him bend the knee to the Crownâs wishes.â Both knights look at the prince, their expressions a mix of concern and understanding. They knew the politics of the realm as well as any, and the value of strategic marriages could not be underestimated, but Rhaegar giving up his sister, his only confident, the receiver of his hopes and praises, is something none of them can explain. âBesides, it is close to Kingslanding, with a safe passage through the Kingswood now that ser Arthur led the royal offensive and cleaned the road of thieves.â
As soon as the meeting meets its end, quickly Arthur and Barristan make their way towards Rhaegar, whose paces drive him to the Master of Whispers. Both knights carefully take their places behind them as the prince and the Spider talk about trivialities before the conversation takes a sharp turn into more pressing matters. The air around them thickens with tension as Rhaegar's tone becomes earnest, almost urgent.
âDo tell me there is a good reason for having placed that wretched idea on the table.â he grits, trying to look as calm and regal as always, the type of king Westeros deserves instead of Aerys.
âI seem to recall that you and I pursue the same interests, Your Highness. Our primary aim is to ensure the stability and prosperity of the realm,â the Spider responds, his voice smooth and measured, a stark contrast to the princeâs fight to keep his composure.
Barristan Selmy swiftly opens a door, half hidden at mere sight and the three of them end up pushing Varys inside, quickly closing it behind, making sure nobody listens to their clandestine meeting. The room, lit by a single flickering candle, casts long shadows across the faces of the men, adding an air of mystery.
âYou have to be kidding, Spiderâ the Stormlander spits, arms crossed over his chest, clearly disgusted.
âWe share a common goal, despite our interests being differentâ the bald man observes each and every one of them and Arthur finds it hard to not gut that man in that room and let his heart drive his actions. âWith the temperamental Robert Baratheon linked to the crown, maybe one day he witnesses one of the Kingâs fits and surprises us. I find it surprising that none of you have reached that thoughtâŚâ
âHow sure you are that he will risk everything for the princess?â
It is not a question, but almost a growl that escapes his lips. With his wrist resting carelessly over Dawnâs pommel, Arthurâs lilac eyes observe the eunuchâs face with attention, ready to defend Valaenaâs honour if he musts.
âShe is a complete delightâ a cunning smile upon Varysâ thin lips repulses him. âThere are lots of young lords who would gladly risk their titles, their lands, even their lives for a chance to stand beside her. All she has to do is charm him, and he will do whatever she wishes, no matter the cost. Power, in its most intoxicating form, wouldnât you agree, my lord?â
Arthurâs grip on Dawn tightens with the mere thought of his princess used as a mere tool in the dangerous games of court. The idea of Valaena, with her vibrant laugh and kind heart, being manipulated by those who see her as nothing more than a pawn in their quests for power fills him with a cold, seething anger. Yet, amidst this storm of emotions, a steadfast resolve takes root within him. He knows the challenges that lay ahead are daunting, but the thought of Valaena facing these alone is something he cannot, and will not, entertain. The fire in his heart, fueled by his love and unwavering determination, ignites a clear path forward. He vows to himself to keep her away from any harm, to guard her as long as he breathes, to stand by her side against the shadows that seek to engulf her.
Only when Rhaegar dismisses the Master of Whispers he allows himself to show the true depth of his concern.
âWhat happened to the vision, Rhaegar?â his voice, bitter, reflects the turmoil swirling within him. âWe were supposed to protect her, to ensure her safety above all else. Have we lost ourselves that badly in the webs of the spider that we are unable to see the light with our own eyes?â
The vision. How hard it had been to handle the burden of such a prophecy, one who sealed the fate of the young princess to a loveless marriage, to the hopes of bearing a saviour, the future of house Targaryen depending on her fragile shoulders⌠At least she has Elia by her side. For a short while.
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