Dream Of Winter | C. Stark & H. Targaryen

Final Masquerade

Viserys POV

"Do you swear to uphold the law and customs of the Seven kingdoms? To lead with wisdom and honor your faithful subjects and to protect them from all external threats and internal turmoil?"

The grave voice of the High Septon reverberated across the the looming walls of the Dragon Pit. Prince Viserys, Now Viserys I Targaryen kneeled before the religious leader and spoke the vows that tied him to to the throne of his ancestors. The prized seat that everyone in the Realm sought but that only he was chosen to inherit.

Viserys knew his cousin Rhaenys had wanted the crown for herself. Daemon had warned him that war may be on the horizon two years prior. So his brother took matters into his hands and raised an army of mercenaries and loyalists in the Vale.

But he knew no such drastic measures were needed. Rhaenys was their family. Once she saw that the popular vote was with him, that the will of the people decreed him as prince of Dragonstone, she'll stop Corlys from engaging in bloodshed.

His grandfather Jaehaerys had told him of the role he must play. The legacy he must safeguard. A Targaryen king must lead after the Conciliator. A strong leader to reunite the kingdoms against the cold and the storm. And that leader cannot be a weak willed woman. It isn't his cousin's fault, but matters of fate have spoken.

The dragon dreams have corroborated his thoughts. Viserys will be King. His son will wear the Conqueror's crown. Westeros will follow their dynasty for the next thousand years.

"I swear, by the old Gods and the new."

He's long since looked back to the East. To the lands of their glorious forbearers in the Valyrian Freehold. He might not be as expressive in his fervor as Daemon - his rogue brother alwasy carried a bit too much of dragon blood - but he can't deny that the histories speak for themselves.

Power and knowledge beyond imagination. A mighty fleet that spanned the seas of the world. Hundreds of dragons, fiercer and older than his late bonded Balerion.

The belief in the Valyrian gods was only logical. But Viserys is now the sovereign of a region who follows the Seven mostly, with the Old Gods having sway in the North. So he'll nominally carry the banners of piety in public. Such is the way of rulership.

"All hail his grace, Viserys, first of his name. King of the Andals, and the Rhoynar and the First Men. Lord of the Seven kingdoms, and protector of the Realm. Long may he reign."

He rose from the ground smiling. This was the moment he longed for. To be worthy as the Wise king's successor, the one who'll push Westeros into even greater height then ever before. Blackfyre was firmly in his grasp. He was no warrior, that was true. But he needed to project strength. Until his wife Aemma bore him a son to wear his crown, Daemon will serve as his sword. A position in the Small Council will temper his errant ways.

And maybe inviting his wife Lady Rhea to court. That should keep him from getting himself into too much trouble. House Targaryen must proliferate and grow in numbers.

The cheers of the nobles and the small folk was satisfying. They seemed to have known that this is his rightful place. That he will guide and nurture the fledgling empire and build a solid foundation for their children and grandchildren.

The golden age of the House of the Dragon has just begun.

***

"Congratulations your grace, you have a son."

Otto's voice sent him to a whirlwind of pain and confusion. His loyal Hand - and recently good-father - was ecstatic, and just over a year ago, Viserys know he would carry his joy as well.