Upon the death of her Lord Husband, Enora Hightower returned to the Red Keep. The eldest daughter of the Hand arrived just in time to attend the tourney in celebration of the predicted birth of the King's heir.
Female!OC x Viserys Targaryen
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Rhaenyra had quickly grown bored of the Noble Ladies and exited the tent, but not before wishing her stepmother goodbye. Alicent had looked at her sister, a pleading look in her face. Enora chuckled as she stood from her seat, one hand holding Aegon against her hip the other resting on her stomach.
Excuse me ladies, I wish to speak with my husband." Enora smiled at the woman as she exited the circle they had made around her.
Enora made her way through the crowd of Nobles, who all bowed and curtsied as she passed. It was still strange to Enora, not long ago she had been one of them, just a normal Lady of the court and now she was Queen.
As she drew closer to her husband two servants approached, Enora smiled, thanking them as Aegon and Ilaria were handed over to their nurse maids. Alicent hugged her sister before disappearing into the crowd, no doubt searching for Rhaenyra.
Enora finally came to a stop beside the King, finding him locked in a conversation with Lord Lyonel Strong, her husband's Master of Law. Viserys placed a hand against Enora's lower back, rubbing the tense muscles to offer his wife some respite. Enora beamed up at her husband, love for the man she had married filling her heart.
"Is that what I am to you? A prize to proffer about to the great houses?" Rhaenyra's voice caused the King and Queen to turn to face her.
"What has happened, Rhaenyra? Has someone said something to you?" Enora asked, placing a hand on her step daughter's shoulder.
"Jason Lannister has asked for my hand." Rhaenyra replied, seeing the worry on her stepmother's face.
"That is entirely improper, he did not have the Crown's support. Viserys you must..." Enora trailed off seeing the guilt on Viserys' face. " You did not."
"Jason Lannister would be an excellent match." The King argued.
Enora turned away, too frustrated with her husband to even look at him. "Lord Jason already has a wife."
"One who is lost in war and may as well be dead. He is ready to remarry."
"He is arrogant and self-serious." Rhaenyra argued.
"Well, I thought you might have that in common." Hurt flooded Rhaenyra's features as Enora gasped in shock at her husband's cruel words. "Since you came of age I've been slowly drowning in a lake of parchment flung from every corner of the realm. Marriage proposals, all."
"You promised that I could choose the match." Enora tried to remind Viserys.
"And you have refused every one of them." Viserys turned to his wife. "Soon there will be no eligible men in Westeros you have not spurned."
"That is because I do not wish to get married and Enora understands that."
"Even I do not exist above tradition and duty, Rhaenyra!" Viserys yelled in his daughter's face.
"Viserys!" Enora hissed, trying to stop the father and daughter from fighting.
"Excuse me, Your Grace." Ser Otto interrupted, gaining the two Targaryen's attention. The room was utterly silent as Viserys looked at the faces of the Nobles surrounding him. Turning back to his daughter, Viserys ended the conversation. "You must marry."
"Yes?"
"The royal huntsman has sent a report, Your Grace. There's been a sighting of a white hart. The stag is the King of the Kingswood, Your Grace. A regal portent for Prince Aegon's name day."
Viserys smiled at the crowd of nobles still watching, before noticing his wife and daughter had disappeared.
Enora had followed after Rhaenyra, wanting to make sure she was okay. The Queen sped up grabbing onto Rhaenyra's arm, causing the girl to turn to face her. Anger practically rolled off of the Princess in waves. Noticing the pair of riding gloves in her hands, Enora understood what Rhaenyra was about to do.
"Be safe, please. I will speak to your father while you are gone, at the least I can convince him to allow you to pick."
Rhaenyra nodded and turned to where the horses were tied, thankful for her stepmother.
Enora watched as the Princess quickly hopped onto a white mare and rode off through the camp. Her sworn protector, Ser Criston Cole, rode after her.
★・・・・・・★
Sunlight streamed through the trees as the sun began its descent from the sky. Hounds barked in the distance as they tried to chase the scent the white hart had left behind. King Viserys and the members of his small council dismounted their horses while lords and knights watched on.
"Your Grace." The royal huntsman greeted his sovereign as Viserys met him in the middle of the small clearing. Though Viserys had no wish to drag this on, he wanted to get this all over with so he could speak to his wife and attempt to find a solution.
"How far?"
"Her droppings were found half a league to the east." The bald man held his hand out so Viserys might inspect the droppings.
"Still fresh." Viserys felt the weight and texture, and sniffed the item.
"Between two and three hours, Your Grace. My best scout spied him. The beast is upward of 35 stone and we now have his trail."
"Aye." Viserys agreed, pulling his riding glove back on.
"Before the dragons ruled over Westeros, the white hart was a symbol of royalty in these lands."
"And on this day of all days." Otto spoke, causing Viserys to realize he was there. "I've never been one for signs and portents, Your Grace, but if the gods did wish to show their favor."
Viserys merely chuckled as he patted Otto's shoulder and retired to his horse. Another problem plagued him on the journey back. Did he make the right choice in naming Rhaenyra heir?
AN: Can't believe this man held poop with his bare hand and then smelled it. Also can't believe I just wrote about it.
