The Love of Dragons (HOTD)

A Match of Compromise

The King sat on his thrown with a trillion thoughts racing throughout his mind. His finger was gently pressed to the base of his chin. He winced slightly at the sharp pain in his arms, legs, and back as the melted swords scraped at his remaining skin. The thrown he sat upon knew he was an unfit king. He knew it too but he would never announce these insecurities. The thrown knew he was weak, he was under qualified. It kept him up at night. This chair, made up of thousands of swords was what haunted his dreams. The King had once scoffed at the idea of being frightened by a chair. But now all those warnings from his youth were finally making sense. This chair was poison. King Viserys could feel the poison seeping into his blood causing sickness. He knew he would have little time once the Illness set in. Would he tell anybody of his concerns? No. For his true priorities were standing before him screaming at one another for the chance of power. He looked out at the sea of people before him as they bickered and scolded one another. King Viserys sat in silence staring out at his family reminiscing on all his failures as a king. The King's wife stood before him with a four year old boy who clutched at her leg through the green fabric of her dress. Besides the four year old boy stood a small girl barely a few months older then her younger brother. On the opposite side of the queen was a small white haired boy no older then five. The eldest of her children. Besides the Queen stood her personal guard who made it his maximum priority to give death glares to those on the opposite end of the room. One of the King's oldest allies and friend stood besides the Queen, Otto Hightower. The beloved father of the queen.

On the opposite end of the room stood another group who stood tall and poised with silver hair and fair skin. His eldest, and unspoken favorite of his offspring Rheanerya stared up at her father with magnificent posture and an unreadable look presented on her feminine features. When the King declared his daughter as heir he received unimaginable amounts of backlash. There were even instances of doubt as lords and members of his council disregarded his decree. At certain moments he couldn't deny that he hadn't been scared of chosing the wrong successor. But now, standing before him was his daughter who stood tall and proud just as a ruler should do.

In her arms she held a two year old girl above her pregnant belly. Besides his heir stood a two year boy with dark brown hair and brown eyes. He had almost no physical similarities with his mother, yet he stood just as proud as she did. Unlike Rheanerya's eldest son her daughter did bare a physical resemblance to her. The two year old girl had unexpected long silver hair with piercing lavender eyes and fair skin littered with soft freckles. The look of a true Targaryen. The look of his first wife. There had been rumors of her children being conceived out of wedlock due to the difference of appearances. Yet this one appeared to be a strong Targaryen. The uniqueness of her daughter's Targaryen traits made many doubt the rumors. Besides Rheanerya stood the tall and intimidating brother of the king whose own wife stood behind him. Prince Daemon kept his mouth shut yet his disgusted glare spoke for him. Behind the princess stood a large knight with long dark brown locks. The queen Allicent screamed and pointed at the princess in a fit of rage.

"Your juvenile delinquent put his hands on my dearest Aemond. Do you have any words for your son?" Allicent hissed pointing at her former best mate.

"He's two, your majesty. What harm could this little one do?" Rheanerya spoke calmly as Allicent disrespected her child.

"Any spawn of yours is capable of all sorts of treachery!" Allicent barked in accusations. The queen aggressively tugged the three year old boy in front of her and rolled up his sleeve to reveal a long scrap that would most likely scar.

"This will scar!" The queen hissed in furry.

"Boys need scars. It shows warrior spirit." The King interrupted attempting to end the fight.

"Not at three!" Allicent debated with her husband.

"Your majesty, I do believe that this is getting us nowhere. This is nonsense!" The Kings younger brother spoke up as he took a step forward. Before Viserys could utter a word his spouse beat him to it.

"You are not to undermine my child's wounds!" Allicent barked.

"Wound? That is a mere scratch." Daemon scoffed in disbelief. King Viserys leaned back in his chair and eyed his divided family. His eyes went back and forth from either side. Suddenly his eyes locked on his oldest son then to his granddaughter.

"Why-" Allicent began preparing to rant. However, before she could the king cut her off.

"Enough!" He barked in fury. The entirety of the chamber froze in silence as everyone stared up at the frustrated king.

"I have came to a resolution. In order to resolve this constant dispute amongst family. We will bond it even more." The King spoke with authority, maybe for the first time in his life.

"The Prince Aeagon and the Princess Aemma are to
be wed when they reach maturity. Maybe then house Targaryen will balance itself out." The king declared staring intensely from his wife to his daughter.

"My dear, I thought we already agreed on a match for Aegon." Allicent spoke hesitantly looking back to her eldest son and only daughter.

"That arrangement will do nothing for us. Unless we are to find a better match. The prince is to marry princess Aemma. End of discussion." The King declared as he slowly stood up from his thrown attempting to keep his balance and refrain from showing weakness. He took short steps from the alter and silently exited the thrown room. Leaving behind a smug Rhaenrya and a dissatisfied Allicent.