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atlasalexanderwrites · 11 months ago

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House of the Dragon: Male!Targ!OC x Alicent Hightower

IMAGINE...being the older brother to Rhaenyra and choosing to marry Lady Alicent Hightower (so your father can't).

Word Count: 3,891

Warning: NONE! Except for the EVER POSSIBLE!ooc of canon characters. SHOW!ages (if that's a warning lol)

A/N: I am still working on Chapter Three of my Arrow story BUT got the idea for this one and decided to give it a shot since I seemingly have a bit of writer's block for the Charlotte Queen x Malcolm Merlyn fic atm!

A/N2: I'M JUST TRYING TO GET ALL THESE IDEAS FOR HoTD FICS SO THEY'LL LEAVE ME ALONE! lol

A/N3: I hope you all enjoy!

“Should something not be done about this? He has just been sitting there, staring, for hours now.”

“The boy has just lost his mother. Surely he can be given some time to grieve.”

Prince Jaehaerys of the House Targaryen, eldest child and only son to King Viserys the First of His Name, had done his best to ignore the whispers around him as he sat on the throne at Dragonstone.

The Prince, affectionately called Harry, had flown to his seat of power - appointed to him on his sixteenth name day two years prior - just hours after the funeral of his mother and baby brother. The thought of remaining in the Capitol without the cries of his newborn brother or the soft spoken words and gentle smiles of his mother as she attempted to sooth her newest child cut too deeply into the Prince’s heart.

His father had had dreams for that new son. The King had always feared something would befall Jaehaerys; after all, Viserys had seen it with his own eyes - the downfall and death of so many heirs to the Old King, Jaehaerys’ namesake. It wasn’t a surprise that the current King of Westeros was frightened at the possibility of his own children meeting the same fate.

His mother had prayed to the gods to give her the son that her husband so desperately wanted; the son that would give Viserys a spare heir, beyond his daughter, and ease some of his fears of losing all his heirs before Viserys himself died.

Harry had dreamt only of his parents finally finding peace and of being able to teach a younger brother how to fight with fist and sword, how to ride on horseback and dragonback, and how to be a great knight and Prince of Westeros.

The loss of his mother and brother had hit him harder than he had expected, and while all accounts told him that his father grieved through silence and self-pity and Rhaenyra grieved through acting as if nothing had happened, Harry was both sad and angry. And he had had no clue on how to let either emotion out in the four months he had been on Dragonstone.

“...he is the heir of the throne and he cannot simply sit here while…”

“While what, Ser?” Harry’s voice cracked as he spoke, his emotions threatening to spill over as he lifted his gaze from the floor to stare at the knights who stood at the bottom of his throne, fretting over his silence and stillness. “It is my right to have six months to grieve, is it not? What is it that is so important? Is there a tourney somewhere that I am expected to participate in? Is there a young maiden somewhere that I am expected to meet and charm, make her fall half in love with me at first sight?”

The second knight who had spoken in favor of leaving the Prince to his thoughts, Ser Cormac, had been with Harry for most of his life; the man was a seasoned warrior and had been more of a father to the Prince than the Kind had been. The man hummed and nodded at the Prince’s words, immediately snapping to attention with his arms at his side and his gaze locked on the Prince’s face. Ser Cormac knew his duty and showed his loyalty willingly, faithfully.

The first knight, the one that was more pushy, was Ser Jourdan and Harry had never liked him much, but the knight was respected across the realm and so Harry hadn’t bothered to go against his Father’s promotion of Ser Jourdan to the Prince of Dragonstone’s detail.

It was Ser Jourdan who responded to the Prince, his tone barely hidden condescension as he sighed and said, “The Small Council is working on finding a second wife for His Grace, King Viserys. It is the understanding of many in this castle, and beyond, that a wife is also being sought out for your hand as well, Your Highness.”

“And you believed I did not know this?” Harry rolled his eyes and reached into his sleeve, producing a small piece of parchment. “I may be on Dragonstone, Ser, but my Father still sends ravens to me. I am aware of what is happening. He asked for my thoughts. It would seem, Lord Corlys and Princess Rhaenys are pushing for my father to marry Lady Laena Velaryon.” A decent marriage, alliance wise, but it would just be a repeat of the King’s union with the late-Queen. A girl, married too soon, and producing heirs far too soon for her body to handle. “The plan is for me to marry Rhaenyra, it has always been that from the moment she was born and even more so when she lived past infancy. Whether my sister realizes this or not, it is as it has always been.”

Harry didn’t like it. He adored his little sister, but he didn’t want to marry her. He wanted something…different for his life. He wanted someone he wasn’t related to; someone who was gentle but strong, someone who had clear ideas of who they were and what they believed in. Targaryens were too fickle, too easily swayed, and Rhaenyra was a Targaryen through and through.

Ser Cormac watched him so closely that Harry began to feel as if there was something he was missing; something his faithful knight wanted to share with him but didn’t want to say in front of Ser Jourdan. Finally, the seasoned knight spoke up, suggesting carefully, “Perhaps, My Prince, it would be best to return to the Capital. You have been absent for some time, and I am sure King Viserys and Princess Rhaenyra miss you dearly. You have always been the more levelheaded of the three of you.”

The knight and the prince shared a soft smile at the inside joke; one that had come about when Harry was a child and would complain about the decisions made by his father and his council, and about the temper tantrums his sister would throw when she didn't get her way.

Harry didn't want to go back. Life was so…peaceful on Dragonstone. He didn’t have to worry about court opinion, or saying and doing things that would make him seem incompetent or arrogant or just not the right choice for the throne. There were too many liars and thieves in the Capitol.

“My Prince,” Ser Cormac bowed slightly before moving up the stairs to the throne, leaning forward to whisper, “I have heard whispers that some on the council are attempting to marry Lady Alicent to His Grace. I believe it would be best to journey to King’s Landing and get a feel for the way of things before everything gets out of hand.”

Harry frowned. Alicent? Alicent Hightower? Who would be trying to marry her to his…

The Hand of the King had good reason to try and secure that match. It was obvious. And whoever stood on the side of Ser Otto would try and talk the King into it as well, citing all sorts of things that would make sense to King Viserys in the moment but not in the long run.

Harry waved Ser Cormac back and after a moment announced, “Prepare our things. We will leave as soon as we are ready.” He would fly on the back of Vermithor; the second of the biggest dragons House Targaryen had, next to Vhagar who had been missing for quite some time. Vermithor was known as the Bronze Fury and he had been the dragon to King Jaehaerys since the Old King’s infancy. Harry had claimed him as his stead at the age of ten, not long after his namesake’s death.

The Prince would fly his Bronze Fury to King’s Landing in hopes of preventing his father from making yet another ill-guided mistake at the hands of House Hightower and those who believed they could control a dragon.

The King was in a Small Council meeting when the Crowned Prince arrived in the Capitol. Harry was informed of this the moment he stepped into the Red Keep and with a stiff thank you at being told, he headed to the Small Council room to join his Father and his advisors.

“...I am only stating facts, My Lord! Lady Laena is a child! Has she even flowered yet?”

“Watch yourself! That is my daughter you speak of!”

As always, the Lord of the Small Council were bickering amongst each other as the double doors to the room were pushed open and the Prince of Dragonstone stepped through, his head held high and locked on the King as he climbed the few steps just within the door and then crossed the room to bow at his father’s side.

“Your Grace. Please forgive my long absence.” Harry bowed, arm held over his chest as he bent forward, respectfully and completely loyal.

King Viserys smiled brightly and placed a hand to his son’s head of blond hair, “Harry! I had no idea you were coming home!”

The Prince straightened and gave his father a smile of his own, “It was a last minute decision. I was told of what has been transpiring in the city these past few months and had to see it all for myself.” Harry took his seat to his father’s left, the one his uncle Daemon often occupied as well when he attended the meetings. He gestured for Ser Cormac to stand behind him, the knight didn’t hesitate even a little as he fell into place behind the Prince’s chair even though it wasn’t very customary for a “simple sworn sword” of a Prince to attend Small Council meetings.

“What has been transpiring? What do you mean?” Viserys chuckled, leaning forward in his chair with amusement that sounded more forced than genuine.

Smiling sadly at his Father, Harry reached out and placed a hand to the King’s hand. “That these men are attempting to have you married before the six month period is over. That these men are forgetting there is no need for the King to remarry when the Crowned Prince is yet unwed and quite capable of producing heirs of his own.” As he finished talking, his gaze flickered cold and accusing over the men of the King’s Small Council; the men who were meant to be advisors not snakes hidden in plain sight who would take advantage of their King, the man they were meant to be most loyal to.

“Harry, they only mean to do what is best for the realm.” King Viserys sighed, patting his son’s hand, “These men are loyal-”

“If they were loyal, they would not suggest members of their own houses.” Harry spat, ripping his hand away from his father, “Laena Velaryon and Alicent Hightower? What say you, Lord Strong? Do you have a daughter you wish to pawn off to the King as well?”

The room was silent as Harry tried to rein in his temper, his hands dropping into his lap - fisted - as his chest rose and fell rapidly.

Hands fell onto his shoulders and Harry knew it was Ser Cormac, his forever loyal knight and protector.

“You killed my mother in your attempt to produce more heirs.” Harry whispered, his voice suddenly void of emotion as he lifted his gaze to look at his father once more, “If you are sad or lonely, spend time with Uncle Daemon or Princess Rhaenys. Spend time with Rhaenyra or me. You will never love your second wife, and you have to know that. You will use her and destroy her. No one deserves that. And Mother doesn’t deserve to have her memory tarnished either.”

“Jaehaerys,” the King whispered, tears prickling in Viserys’ eyes as he stared back at his son, “I love your mother…”

“THEN DO NOT REPLACE HER!” Harry slammed his hands on the table and got to his feet, glaring down at his father, “Do not replace…me and Rhaenyra. Are we not good enough for you? Have we not done everything you have ever asked of us? Father…Your Grace I beg of you. Do not get remarried. Please.”

“Perhaps,” the Hand of the King began to say slowly, catching the Prince’s gaze as he continued speaking, “The Prince of Dragonstone is exhausted from his travels and would like to rest before continuing this conversation.”

“Otto,” King Viserys sighed, waving the other man off while never removing his gaze from his son, “Jaehaerys.”

“I will marry one of them. Or both of them. Fuck. Why not both of them.” Harry wasn’t sure where the words came from, but once they were out he couldn’t take them back. They were a last ditch effort to make all of this just cease!

“Excuse me?” someone else around the table, Lord Lyonel Strong perhaps, questioned, sounding part confused and part bewildered.

“Lady Laena and Lady Alicent. Your Grace, choose which one is most important to the crown and to the continued prosperity of the realm, and I will marry her. If both will ensure prosperity, then let me act as King Aegon did and take two wives.”

“Uh-now, the Faith of the Seven does not believe in such…”

“Maester, I do not believe I was asking for your insight into this matter. I am of Old Valyria and while I respect your gods and the old ones, I do not believe I was asking for their permission either.” Harry’s heart was pounding away in his chest as he continued to stare back at his father, trying to convey the urgency and seriousness of his words.

No one spoke for several long moments before the King laughed and got to his feet, “You should take Ser Otto’s suggestion and sleep, my son. We will discuss your marriage later.”

And he left. Just….left.

The Prince continued to stare at where the King had stood long after the room had emptied besides himself and Ser Cormac.

Had that…truly just happened?

His father had never dismissed him in such a way. Had never made light when Harry spoke up against the council.

What was going on?

What was Harry missing?

All the Prince knew was that his father’s dismissal cut deep and left him feeling chilled to his core.

Harry had never cared much for the practice yard. To be honest, the moment he was knighted he had stopped pointlessly swinging his sword with the squires and young knights he had trained with his whole life. He knew his skill level and honestly, liked the thought of having some mystery so his enemies wouldn’t know what he was capable of.

But he was angry and he needed to blow off some steam.

Somehow he had ended up sparring with a member of his father’s King’s Guard, Ser Criston Cole. The man was good and certainly earned his position on the King’s Guard. He didn’t hold back and even gave Harry some pointers on how to stand and hold his sword; things the Prince had been told before but never in a way he truly understood.

“You have been looking after my sister, Ser.” Harry was saying as they ended their session.

“Well, it is the Princess who I have to thank for my position, Your Highness. She is the one who gave me the rank on your father’s authority.” the young knight informed him as the two moved to stand against the wall, allowing the squires to use the training yard instead.

Harry nodded, “Yes, I heard. I…apologize for her if she has said anything…hotheaded or without thinking. I am afraid that Rhaenyra is…well…hotheaded and often acts on feeling instead of thought.” he chuckled, smiling fondly at the thought of his younger sister.

“From what I hear, you hardly have any room to talk, brother.”

Harry and Ser Criston turned at the sound of the Princess’ voice, the knight dropping into a low bow as Harry closed the space and kissed both of his sister’s cheeks. “Rhaenyra, you look radiant.” Red had always been her color, after all.

The Princess laughed, “Do not change the subject, dear brother. I heard of your outburst in the small council meeting yesterday.”

Harry’s smile slipped as his gaze moved behind Rhaenyra to the girl standing, nervously, behind her. “Apologies, Lady Alicent, I had not seen you before.” the Prince bowed as a greeting before saying to his sister, “They speak nonsense. There is no reason for His Grace to marry.”

“And to ensure that doesn’t happen, you believed it was the right thing to do to offer to marry multiple people? You cannot marry every young Lady who is offered to Father.”

Harry looked back at Alicent, wondering if Rhaenyra knew that her best friend was one of those young ladies. “I can marry a few of them at least. Our House is declining, I highly doubt Father would have much to say against it if I could produce multiple heirs at once.”

“Jaehaerys!” Rhaenyra laughed, slapping his arm in mock disgust, “There are ladies present. You cannot use such language!”

Faking confusion, Harry squinted and looked around the yard, “I see only Lady Alicent. Where are these other ladies you speak of?” before breaking out into loud laughter as his sister hit his arm half a dozen more times.

“My Prince,” the siblings’ attention were drawn away from each other to Alicent who had her hands held tightly in front of her, picking at her nails as she had done their whole lives as a habit of nerves. “Princess Rhaenyra and I were actually sent to inform you that His Grace wishes to speak to you in his chambers. I believe it was urgent.”

“I believe, brother, it has something to do with your upcoming vows.” Rhaenyra teased, pinching her brother’s arm before wrapping her arm around his, “Come on. Alicent, Ser Criston, and I will accompany you to make sure you don’t get lost.”

“How kind,” Harry murmured tensely, his gaze slipping back to Alicent as he offered his free arm for her to do the same as Rhaenyra.

“My Prince,” Alicent whispered, wrapping her arm around the one he had offered.

Harry offered a smile to her, trying to comfort her and get her to relax so they could - even for a short while - pretend as if they were all children again, comfortable in each other’s presence without the expectations of their births getting in the way.

The walk wasn’t too long, but before they reached the King’s chambers, Rhaenyra was pulled away by her Septa who was already scolding the Princess for being late to her lessons. Harry dismissed Ser Criston with one last thank you for accompanying them and for helping him train, and then it was just the Prince and Lady Alicent.

They walked in silence, neither too sure of what to say it seemed.

Just as they got to the King’s private chambers, Alicent brought a hand up to grab Harry’s. She was shaking slightly and when Harry met her gaze, her eyes were wide and full of something that the Prince couldn’t identify.

“Harry,” Alicent whispered, leaning toward him ever so slightly, “Will you come to me afterwards? And tell me what the King says? Will you tell me who he has chosen for you?”

Fear. Terror. Anxiety.

So many emotions and the girl in front of him was feeling them all.

“My Lady, I promise as your friend and as your Prince. You will be the first to know.” and Harry leaned down, placing a brief kiss to Alicent’s cheek before he pulled away and stepped into his father’s chambers, the door having been opened the moment the two of them had gotten close enough.

The King was seated at his replica of Valyria when Harry stepped inside and bowed, calling out to him softly with a, “Your Grace.”

Viserys didn’t say anything until the door was shut behind him, and then he gestured for his son to move closer and sit down beside him. It was only after Harry was seated beside him that Viserys asked, “Is your issue with me remarrying or with who my…chosen prospects are?”

“You cannot marry someone younger than your heir. It…you do not need more heirs. You have myself and Rhaenyra, Daemon and Rhaenys, and yes even Laena and Laenor distantly. Marry another widow; someone who can sympathize with your pain and who is in the same place. Someone who will be a gentle Queen for the realm and a needed stepmother for Rhaenyra.”

Viserys laughed softly and flashed his son a smile, reaching out to squeeze his shoulder, “You have grown wise, Harry. Your Mother would be proud. I know that I am.”

Harry nodded, “Thank you, Father.”

The Prince looked his father over, noting how he looked tired but not too unfit. One of the fingers on his left hand was bandaged, but Harry was quick to dismiss it; it was the iron throne, most likely. The King always cut himself on the throne.

“If you were too choose a wife, Harry, who would it be?”

The Prince frowned, ‘Your Grace? I…Rhaenyra. In the style of our House and as it was decided at her birth.”

“Was it?” Viserys laughed with a raised brow, “And who decided that? Who told you that?”

“I…well…” No one had. The Prince had always assumed that he would marry Rhaenyra, though. His parents were cousins, his grandparents were siblings, his great grandparents were siblings, and so on. There were inter-House Targaryen marriages going back since the beginning of written history from what the Prince of Dragonstone knew. He had never been told he wouldn’t marry Rhaenyra and so he had always assumed…

“If I could marry anyone I…I have never given it any thought.” He had settled on the idea that his sister would be his bride; he had never allowed himself the liberty of thinking of anyone else being his wife.

“You have two options.”

“And the one I don’t choose you will?” Harry asked, bitterly

The King shook his head, “For now, we will focus on you and your heirs.”

The Prince’s options were the same as his father. Laena Velaryon or Alicent Hightower.

Laena was twelve and just a child. She was from a strong and wealthy house with Targaryen blood. Lord Corlys would want to start a war if she wasn’t chosen, but Princess Rhaenys had never crossed Harry as the sort to go to war over a succession that was decided decades earlier.

Alicent was only a year or two younger than the Prince, and had grown up alongside him. They had been friends in their youth and Harry had always held a fondness for his sister’s dearest friend. House Hightower were powerful in their own right, and had no such ties beyond Otto and Alicent that would prevent them from starting a war if they so wished.

“Harry…” the King began to say

The Prince shook his head and interrupted with, “Alicent. I choose Lady Alicent.”

House Velaryon would reconcile in time over their hurt pride.

House Hightower were sneaky and needed to be kept as close as possible.

Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer.

And in a rat nest like King’s Landing, that couldn’t be a truer statement.

ALRIGHTY! Thank you to everyone who read this to the end! It's deeply appreciated!

I hope you all enjoyed it! And if you would like a second part (which I am considering!) feel free to comment below or send me an ask/message!

Please stay safe wherever you are!

~ Atlex Writes :D

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