As the first century of the Targaryen dynasty came to a close, the health of the Old King Jaehaerys was failing.
In those days House Targaryen stood at the height of it's strength, with ten adult dragons under it's yoke. No power in the world could stand against it
So, in the year 101, the Old King called a Great Council to choose an heir. Over a thousand lords made the journey to Harrenhal.
Harrenhall was the largest castle in the Seven Kingdoms was nearly destroyed in Aegon's Conquest. On most days, the place is a haunted memory of the might of the Targaryen dragons. But those days was not today.
Today, a new heir will be chosen for the next generation.
In Harrenhal, thousands of people gathered, the banners and sigils of houses great and small: The Kingdom of the North, the Kingdom of the Mountain and the Vale, the Kingdom of the Isles and the Rivers, the Kingdom of the Rock, the Kingdom of the Storm lands, the Kingdom of the Reach, the Principality of Dorne, all which fill the former hall of Harren the Black.
At the head of the great hall was a large dais, upon which sat the Old King, my grand father King Jaehaerys Targaryen the Conciliator. The old man was in his 80s, stooped and weak, the burdens of time and duty were evidently weighing on him.
King Jaehaerys reigned over nearly sixty years of peace and prosperity. But tragedy claimed both his sons, my father, Prince Baelon, died of a burst belly, a terrible disaster, leaving my grandfather's succession in doubt.
While the Old King addressed the people, The shot pans up from the floor to two Archmaesters of the citadel comes in from the main entrance carrying a large chest through a crowded room towards the king, ascending the dais.
The Seven Knights of the Kingsguard were arrayed in a line at the foot of the dais. Including an Archmaester of the Citadel.
The High Septon also stood on the dais with the candidates, two distinct rules of succession.
Standing on the left side of the dais itself were the two candidates, my great aunt Princess Rhaenys Targaryen, a beauty in her early 40s and her husband, Lord Corlys Velaryon, dark skinned, very young man and proud in his mid 40s.
The Sea Snake, that's what they called him. His house were also descendants of Old Valyria, very ancient than House Targaryen.
Corlys Velaryon is the second wealthiest man in westeros with plenty of ships at his command.
With his sacred union with Princess Rheanys Targaryen, it was evident the man loved power and his ambition would sooner or later blind him, but he was very anxious and eager to hear the final decree of the King.
Meanwhile, standing on the right side of the dias stood my eldest brother, Prince Viserys Targaryen, regal, aigle and handsome in his 30s. My brother loved arts, culture and histories even more than riding a dragon.
He is a man of integrity, very respected amongst the people and small folks and beside him stood his cousin, my sister-in-law Lady Aemma Arryn, a pretty woman in her mid 20s. Aemma just stood there innocently like a frail bird.
However, fourteen succession claims were heard, but only two were truly considered.
Princess Rheanys Targaryen, the King's eldest descendant and her younger cousin Prince Viserys Targaryen, the King's eldest male descendant.
The arch-maesters arrived at top dias and place the chest down on the table and open the latch. The vote was said to have been twenty-to-one and yet only the King had the final say to decided who'd inherits the iron throne.
The Old King reaches his frail hands inside the chest, where the results of the vote were written on a Square Of Parchment, secured with the wax seal of the Citadel.
Jaehaerys breaks the seal, let's out a little breath and opens the parchment.
He paused for a while.
Silence erupted at every corner of Harrenhall, from the highest lord to the lowest common born servant, they all held their breath, the hall was filled with tension and the whole place was silent like a graveyard
And so Jaehaerys looks up to face all the lords of the Seven Kingdoms and reads the decree.
"It is declared by all lord paramount and all lord vassals of the Seven Kingdoms...... that Prince Viserys Targaryen be made Prince of DragonStone." Jaehaerys decreed as the hall erupted with shouts of cheers and applauds.
Gently he exhales. lifting the heavy burden on his shoulders has, at last, been lifted. The realm has spoken as one.
Many lords saw this as an 'iron precedent' the Throne will always be inherited by men.
Viserys and his wife Aemma look relieved, while Rhaenys remains mostly expressionless.
Uncertain, rumour has it that the masters rigged the vote, the lords choose Viserys because he didn't have a dragon, but Princess Rheanys had Meleys and her son Laenor had SeaSmoke and she is a woman, men cannot serve women.
If King Jaehaerys would allow absolute primogeniture system: meaning the eldest descendant of the King would inherit the iron throne, regardless of gender.
If they set that precedent, Princess Rheanys would have been Queen, but unfortunately Rheanys was denied, a woman would not inherit the iron throne the lords instead chose Viserys, my brother
The lords of Westeros decided to go with male preferred primogeniture system: setting the precedent that the eldest living male descendant of the King inherits the iron throne.
Jaehaerys called the Great Council to prevent a war being fought over his succession. For he knew the cold truth,the only thing, that could tear down the House of the Dragon, was itself.
Jealous, I envied my elder brother's marriage. The love Viserys shares with Aemma is magical and my love for her is unfathom. I've loved her since the day, I laid my hands on her, she is my crush, the woman I admire from afar.
If only I could steal her from Viserys and sail across the narrow sea, perhaps I'll be the most luckiest man in the world, but life happens and everything takes it formal shape. Even though Aemma chose to marry Viserys, my love for her will continue to wax strong, even though now that she's Queen consort.
"Drop that attitude and smile Maegor, our brother is king." Daemon instructs, nudging his older brother with a smirk.
Maegor stares at him, his red orbs against Daemon's purple.
The rogue prince chuckles smugly. "Smile for once brother, you look you're about to snatch someone's soul to hell." Daemon grins.
"Does it bother you?" Maegor asked coldly as the chorused noises around them is erupted in jubilation.
"Ofcourse it does, you're always too serious, loosen up, today is an auspicious day. Viserys is now King, be happy, and stop frowning like a man who was denied some cunt. Smile brother. It's therapeutic." Daemon urged him. "You look approachable when you smile."
"Hmm." Maegor drifts his gaze back to the stage and began clapping one pace at a time, his red orbs glued to Viserys and his wife.
"Soon you'll be his heir." Daemon leaned close with a grin "Heir to the iron throne. I'm quite certain he'll be needing us now, more than ever." He added.
"Hmm.... I'm sure he will." Maegor replies, clapping with an expressionless visage as Harrenhal hailed their new King.
*****
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