𝙺𝙰𝙻𝙾𝙽 ° aemond targaryen

Act Two, Scene Seven

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"𝙱𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚍𝚜"
𝟷𝟸𝟾 𝙰𝙲 - 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚁𝚎𝚍 𝙺𝚎𝚎𝚙
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NO ONE DARED TO SPEAK. Not a word was uttered as everyone watched in astonishment as Viserys slowly made his way towards his throne. The gold of his mask glistened in the sun shining through the stained glass. The cane held tightly in his grasp seemed to barely support his weight as he hobbled forwards.

Vaella watched nervously, her eyes scanning the crowded court. Everyone in the kingdoms knew the king was weak, but to see him in this state now; it was nerve wracking to the young girl. The people would start to doubt his health, and that was the last thing the girl wanted.

She didn't want him to die.

Viserys was the only real father figure the young girl had, after hers decided he didn't want her. He would spend as much time with her as he did his own children, and never once made her feel like she was truly a bastard.

Vaella wanted him to always be the strong, kind man she knew growing up. But seeing him now, nearly falling off his feet with a cane supporting his weight, she wasn't so sure he has much of that strength left.

The Hand moved from his place on the throne, meeting his king at the end of the steps. The two men stood beside each other, the king's head turning in his advisor's direction.

"I will sit the throne today," He said weakly, barely able to lift his head to look Otto in the eye. Moments passed before the Hightower bowed his head respectfully and took his place beside his daughter.

The king seemed unstable on his feet, slowly attempting to climb the steps and ushering away a guard who tried to assist him. It seemed he didn't want to appear weak, either.

     His crown went falling to the ground, the metallic clattering echoing throughout the silent room. A hand reached out, grabbing it off the step, and it was truly the most unlikely person to have stepped forward.

     "I said I'm fine," Viserys told them, only to turn and meet his brother's eyes.

     Daemon remained stotic as he faced his brother, weak and frail. "Come on," He mumbled, crown in one hand and holding his elder brother up with the other.

      Eyes followed the pair as they moved up the final steps, groans echoing out as the king lowered himself onto the throne. The golden crown was placed back atop his bare head. The younger, after sparing a few moments looking at what had become of his brother, turned and made his way back to his wife and her children.

      "I must...admit...my confusion," Gasps of strain and effort came out with the king's words, all eyes turned to him, while his scanned the crowd gathered before him. "I do not understand why petitions are being heard over a settled succession."

     Vaella let out a soft sigh, looking down at her hands that were folded neatly in front of her stomach, her thumb gently brushing the small bump hidden by her dress. She knew that if Viserys showed up, he would no doubt back his daughter and her son.

     He always did, even when she was in the wrong.

     "The only one present...who might offer keener insight into Lord Corlys's wishes is the Princess Rhaenys."