If you want to support me, check out my patréon at https://www.patréon.com/athassprkr
I tend to upload drafts of early chapters on there to get people's opinions on them, so you can read up to 20 chapters ahead as a bonus.
[---]
123 AC, King's Landing
The King had finally realised what had happened and how he had acted before the realm. He turned to them all and spoke up, "You are all dismissed. There are private matters that I need to attend to."
Viserys had not expected things to become so complicated when he had announced his Grand Tourney. Truthfully, while the goal of bringing together the Seven Kingdoms in a single place had been achieved, he still had much to do to fix the realm and ease the coming tension. For now, he had done his best to ignore the whispers of his miraculous recovery as well as his taming of Vermithor. It was obvious that the realm had not expected that, not one bit, and his attempts at negating many of his lords' plotting through the sheer fear of the unpredictability that plagued the world in the last few moons had worked marvellously.
So far, they all spoke to one another, trying to understand the true reason for the Grand Tourney, unaware whether to separate themselves into Greens and Blacks, as they once had. He was the King of the Seven Kingdoms, the rider of Vermithor, and yet, he still shivered at the memories of the visions that Harry Potter had shown him, of a black and green dragon fighting one another before both plummeting to their death, a prophesied end of House Targaryen.
He had done his best to stop this and had come up with a plan, though he still dreaded going through with it. In a perfect world, Rhaenyra would have been a man, she wouldn't have had bastards, and his wife and former Hand wouldn't have been preparing to usurp her chosen heir. It brought him to a very horrible position where he had many possible heirs, but with most being unsuitable for the Throne, through their past actions or temperament.
The answer was clear. Rhaenyra could not be Queen, not anymore, as much as he dreaded it. He perfectly knew Alicent's little plan to showcase her baseborn children to the realm, in a way that none would doubt their origin. Rhaenys, his faithful new Hand, had told him of it previously, and he allowed it.
Viserys hated that he could find no other way. No, he could have. But this was the easiest way, cruel as it was.
After all, he had dismantled the unity of the green faction when he sent Otto away. It had been strange that Alicent had asked for it, but it had been a boon. If he were honest, he had expected Alicent to take the reins of the faction supporting Aegon's claim to the Iron Throne, but most of the Court simply fractured, according to Rhaenys, trying to fill the void that Otto Hightower left, but none were capable enough to unite them. Many had gone to try to get support from Aegon, himself, who had ignored most of them.
The Greens were broken away, but that would not remain for long. The situation in Oldtown with the religious riots had stabilised, which meant that Otto would return and bring order to his faction once more.
This gave him a small timeline during the tourney where he had to finally bring order to the Seven Kingdoms, and all it would cost him was his daughter's honour.
The Black faction needed to be fragmented, and this was the easiest way to do it, to show them that Rhaenyra's succession was not as secure as they would wish it would be. It would be the perfect opportunity, with both Blacks and Greens weakened and divided, to finally execute his plan, one that he had spent moons fine-tuning.
Was it not a King's greatest duty to save his realm, to secure it for his successor?
But at what cost? How would he face Aemma in the afterlife after the humiliation that he allowed their daughter to suffer?
Much of the situation the realm was suffering through was her doing, but not as much as his own blindness. Oh, how he wished he could go back in time and fix things. But alas, there was nothing he could do but move forward and watch as his daughter was shamed by the lords, doing nothing to deny it, no matter how much he wished he could.
Due to his own weakness, Jacaerys, Lucerys, and Joffrey, his own grandchildren, would be called bastards throughout the Seven Kingdoms, true as it might be. He loved those children, and yet he had failed them, just as he failed his daughter, all for the realm's benefit.
He couldn't help but sympathise with his grandsire, his predecessor on the Iron Throne. Jaehaerys, the Conciliator, had chosen the realm before his children and grandchildren, often to their detriment. Viserys had spent so long trying not to fall into the same mistakes, only to realise that he was forced to make the same choice.
Perhaps this had been why Vermithor had chosen him, because he was finally ready to do what needed to be done to reforge the realm anew, to stop the fractures within the House of the Dragon and ensure that the disastrous future that he experienced would never pass.
It was only when the sorcerer had shown himself in his throne room that Viserys finally found a way to distract himself from the humiliation that his daughter and grandchildren suffered through. However, that changed when he understood what the man claimed, that Spring was upon them and that the Song of Ice and Fire had finally ended.
He had dreamt of it once, during the so-called One-Day Winter. He had dreamt of a raven shattering a crown of winter. He had known immediately that something had occurred. The Maesters may wish to debate amongst themselves about what occurred, but Viserys knew for a fact that it was a cause for celebration, hence the announcement of the Grand Tourney.
But to hear it with his own ears, to finally receive a confirmation from the very man who had shown him his house's destruction, was not something that he had ever expected.
And yet, here he was alone, before Harry and Daphne Potter. He would likely have to suffer some consequences for sending his nobles away, but that paled compared to finally knowing if his family's greatest burden was no more.
He looked at the sorcerer and asked, "Is it true? Has the Song of Ice and Fire ended?"
The sorcerer nodded, "We joined up with Cregan Stark at the Wall and went on an expedition beyond it. There had been a sudden migration of the wildings towards his kingdom that worried him. We found that the cause was the Others moving down, given that the Wall was regaining its strength. This entire affair culminated with us joining the Children of the Forest and battling the Others. It was… trickier than I expected, but they are no more."
"And the One-Day Winter," Viserys continued.
Daphne Potter had been the one who answered this time, "A consequence of the battle. The seasons should start stabilising and behaving like they were always supposed to be, with them being spread out over a single year instead of decades."
This was marvellous news. If he calculated it correctly, each season would last for less than a handful of moons, including winter. Ancient prophecy aside, his reign was truly blessed. After all, from now on, his people would not need to starve overmuch during winter, and not as much of the harvest would rot away and remain unused. Sure, there would likely be a few years to adapt to the new seasons, but it was, without a doubt, a net positive for the Seven Kingdoms, even the entire world.
However, as grateful as he was for this result, he could not help but doubt the sorcerer's statement, not out of mistrust, but because his ancestor's prophecy had not been fulfilled as well. After all, it might have been referencing some other danger, or perhaps a few of the Others had survived the sorcerer's purge.
Ever since he had left Dragonstone, Viserys had asked Grand Maester Mellos to give him every possible account of the Long Night. The man had been dubious, of course, but he had simply claimed that it was a curiosity of his. The accounts seemed to resemble eerily the Conqueror's dreams, of a terrible darkness rising from an endless winter, which came down from the Far North and swallowed the world of man.
Every King that followed heard the Conqueror's dream and had a duty to their own blood to prepare the realm against this terrible darkness, for from the Conqueror's blood comes the Prince Who Was Promised, and his song would be one of Ice and Fire.
As much as Viserys wished that he would have the honour of seeing the fulfilment of House Targaryen's greatest purpose and most terrible burden, there had been no proof of a promised prince, or even involvement of the House of the Dragon.
"But the prophecy, Aegon's dream…"
"Was fulfilled," Harry interrupted him.
Viserys's eyes widened at the insinuation, and he gasped out, "How?"
"The final blow was struck by the hands of Cregan Stark, wielding a dagger enchanted with Helaena Targaryen's blood, which was enhanced by the sacrifice of one of the few remaining Children of the Forest. It was a show of unity, or trust, between two races that allowed it to happen, enhanced by the willingly given blood of a member of the House of the Dragon, that of a princess no less. A song of ice and fire. Cregan Stark will probably come to the tourney soon. He's just arranging a proper defence against a possible wildling invasion, mostly to satisfy his lords more than anything."
The King of the Seven Kingdoms stared there, stunned, at the man's words. He remembered Aegon's prophecy, which had been etched onto his dragon, that from his blood would come the prince who was promised, and his song would be one of ice and fire.
And hadn't that occurred, given the sorcerer's tale. The Conqueror's blood, Helaena's blood, wielded by a descendant of the Old Kings of Winter, had been the key to ending the darkness that his ancestor foresaw, a true Song of Ice and Fire, just not one that Viserys had ever expected.
As much as it pained him that Helaena's blood had been used for some form of magic, it was certainly better than risking her life, nor that of her family. A part of him wished to ask the Potters why they had used Helaena's blood of all people, but his youngest daughter seemed quite unharmed by the entire affair, and he saw no reason to escalate things further, especially since it had seemingly helped fulfil Aegon's prophecy.
The sorcerer's wife's eyes seemed to have softened at his obvious surprise, "Prophecies have always been somewhat flexible, far more than people think they are. It's why they're often considered to be quite unreliable. However, it is fulfilled, and the chains of fate that bound your blood are no more."
That was all Viserys needed to hear, because he suddenly found himself bursting into laughter. He did not know why he started doing that, only that it did. He simply felt so unburdened, so free of his greatest duty.
It felt as though a weight he had carried his entire life had finally slipped from his shoulders. He could breathe again. Truly breathe. The realm would endure, and his successors would not share the same burden as he had when they would sit on the Iron Throne.
But the laughter faded as quickly as it came, leaving him with a terrible clarity and a bit of emptiness. Viserys had spent so long fearing and chasing this endless winter, hoping in horror that it would not come to pass during his reign or that of his heir, that its absence showed him a void that he had centred much of his life as king, trying to fill.
Viserys steadied himself, looking from Harry to Daphne, trying to find the right words to say. "Then… my family is free," he whispered, "House Targaryen owes you a great debt, Harry Potter."
"And to House Stark as well," Daphne Potter corrected.
Viserys found himself somewhat uncomfortable with her tone, feeling offended, but he would admit that if Cregan Stark, the young Lord of the North, had been the one to deal the final blow to the Others, then he did truly owe the young man quite a significant debt.
He nodded in acceptance, "To House Stark as well. The treasury is overflowing at this moment, so perhaps a second Glass Garden would aid them in the coming winter."
"Perhaps it should be more symbolic than that. If I remember correctly, your grandmother Alysanne Targaryen extended Brandon's Gift, taking land from the North, with the hopes of strengthening the Night's Watch against the threat of Aegon's dream. With that threat now dealt with, thanks to House Stark, and the fact that the lands are almost entirely in disarray…"
Viserys inwardly thought that it was a grand idea. He had once questioned the purpose of this move, as it seemed to be a mistake. It had earned the crown the enmity of its largest kingdom, only to strengthen the Night's Watch, which was mostly made up of criminals and old men waiting to die against wildlings. He had only understood its purpose after he was told of Aegon's dream, for the strength of the Night's Watch could be crucial when the darkness came for the world of men, a darkness that was no more.
As much as he would have normally disliked the idea of undoing the Good Queen's works, this was different. This was not weakness, nor insult, nor an act of appeasement. It was a gesture made in recognition of a debt that no coin could repay, and a threat that no longer existed.
He could even use Cregan Stark's absence to justify the reward and claim that the young man was dealing with some issues North of the Wall that Viserys was grateful for handling personally. It would serve as a good excuse to offer him the Queen's Gift back to his lands.
"It would mend much resentment," he admitted quietly, "What of your debt, Harry and Daphne Potter? How could the Iron Throne reward you?"
The sorcerer released a snort of amusement, "Just make sure that your family doesn't destroy the realm, and we'll be perfectly happy."
It was strangely peaceful speaking with the Potters. They did not try to sway him, nor press him for favour, nor cloak their words in courtly games. They told Viserys what he needed to hear, and he was glad for it. To this day, he did not think that anyone had done more for House Targaryen than they had, starting by healing him and his grandchildren, to even defeating their destined foe, while asking very little in return.
He exhaled slowly, the tension in his shoulders easing. "I will do what I can," he murmured, "though it is proving itself to be harder than I expected."
The Potter woman nodded in understanding, "We noticed. It was harsh what your daughter just suffered through."
The King of the Seven Kingdoms suppressed a flinch, "It was cruel on my part. I do not know if it was necessary."
Harry shook his head, "If you're planning on calling a Great Council, it is. You've done a good job at dismantling Otto Hightower's faction."
"Rhaenyra can be reasonable," Viserys argued, "She would understand what was at stake if I told her…"
The golden-haired woman snorted, "She tried to threaten Harry and me with her dragons to secure her position as your heir and to this day, is scheming to kill me, as a threat to her children's legitimacy, even despite the fact that you did not need magic to see that her three eldest are not Laenor Velaryon's children."
Viserys winced at that. Rhaenyra might have been impulsive to birth bastards, but he had put her into this position by marrying her to Laenor, and he should have stopped her after Jacaerys was born. The young man could have easily joined the Citadel as a Maester, and they would have put this dishonour behind them.
Alas, they had both failed, and they now needed to reap the consequences of their failings. But while he decided to move past his own failings, his daughter seemed insistent on proving to him that he could not trust her, not with something as sensitive as his succession.
He slumped in defeat, "Perhaps you are correct. But she is my daughter, and I love her."
"Love is the death of duty," Potter simply replied as if it explained everything, and in a way, it had.
Viserys let the words settle between them before shaking his head faintly. "Enough of duty for now. Go, both of you. Enjoy the festivities. This is a day of celebration, is it not? My house stands victorious against its destined foe."
Harry's lips twitched. "I have a feeling it will be… exciting."
The King thought back at his plan, which was quickly coming to fruition, and found that the sorcerer's words were an understatement to say the least. Then a memory came to the forefront of his mind, something that sobered up his expression, "A delegation from Asshai arrived this week. They have not done much since they arrived, but given the attempt on your life on Dragonstone… I felt you should be warned."
If Viserys had expected any display of worry or fear, he was sorely disappointed, because if anything, the sorcerer's eyes lit up in excitement, "Oh, yeah. I forgot about that. Their shadows were made up of a primitive form of soul magic. Quite deadly for its target, but very dangerous to the user, given that they put themselves in their own spells."
Viserys had no idea what that meant and suspected he did not want to know. And so, he simply commented, "You are taking this far better than I expected."
"Meh, I've always been curious about how different cultures developed their own magic, and my wife and I are not exactly easy targets. Still, I was pretty curious about Asshai when I heard of it, though the volume of Black Stone is pretty worrisome. I can't help but wonder how it would affect people living near it for decades at a time."
Viserys did not know what to say in response to this. He did not know what he expected, perhaps a sense of urgency, danger or anything else. Sure, the Asshai 'delegation' had come uninvited to his tourney, but given that he had invited most of the Free Cities and claimed that all would be welcome to celebrate the end of Winter, so long as they did not break the laws of Westeros.
Of course, the Asshai delegation had sworn that they had brought no Shadowbinder with them, but Viserys was dubious of this at best. Perhaps he had wished for some assurances from the sorcerer to stop any potential Shadowbinder from attacking them, especially since their actions on Dragonstone, but the man seemed utterly unconcerned by it.
To his frustration, Potter then inclined his head despite the severity of the situation, "Well, that's us done. We thought that you would have liked to know about the Others' defeat. We'll leave the matters of governing the realm to you, Your Grace."
He swore that he saw a small glint of mischievousness as she curtsied, and the Potters slipped from the Throne Room, their steps untroubled.
The doors closed behind them with a soft thud, leaving Viserys alone, thinking of ways to mitigate a potential religious conflict in his city, despite the fact that he should have been overjoyed with the Conqueror's Prophecy being fulfilled at last, with the world of man returning victorious. It was only his bond with Vermithor that steadied him. The prophecy was fulfilled. The realm was safe. His house yet endured. And now, he only needed to deal with what came after. For the realm would not be allowed to fall, and he would protect his family, even from itself.
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AN: I know that I promised that I was done setting things up, but I felt like I needed to write the Potters' conversation with Viserys, and also show his plans on how to deal with the succession crisis.
It's meant to be a contrast to his decision to keep Rhaenyra as heir after Aegon was born, despite the fact that it obviously wasn't good for the realm, especially compared to now, where he essentially let her be humiliated just for his plans, and is conflicted about it. As usual, please let me know what you think and if you have any suggestions.
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If you want to support me, check out my patréon at https://www.patréon.com/athassprkr
I tend to upload drafts of early chapters on there to get people's opinions on them, so you can read up to 20 chapters ahead as a bonus.
Thank you guys for your support in these hard times.