Maekar sighed heavily through his nose as he stood in the large green field where people were all gathered for the funeral of Queen Aemma and Prince Baelon's funeral. Both were wrapped in cloth on traditional Targaryen pyres. Aegar and Syrax sat on a hill at the edge of the field. Below them, Maekar stood beside his youngest sister, his hand resting on the small of her back.

"I know this is not fair, but they are waiting for you," Maekar whispered in her ear.

"You are father's heir," Rhaenyra whispered back.

"Not officially, but you are the Queen's daughter," Maekar reasoned back softly.

"I wonder if, during those few hours our brother lived, my father finally found happiness," Rhaenyra responded in High Valyrian.

"Father has always been terrible at showing his love, though he did try his best," Maekar reached down and gently took her soft hand into his own rough one. "Our father needs you more now than he ever has."

"I will never be a son," Rhaenyra's voice cracked. After a moment, Rhaenyra stepped forward, allowing Maekar to retake his place beside Visenya.

"Thank the Gods we did not have to witness our mother's funeral," Visneya whispered to Maekar, who kept his face forward.

"Dra..." Rhaenyra attempted to speak, but the word got caught in her throat. She looked behind her at Maekar, who sent her a reassuring nod. She took a look back at her father, who didn't return the look. "Dracarys," she said firmly. Syrax crawled forward and lit the funeral pyres. Aegar roared into the air as the flames began to rise.

"You were so brave, sister," said Visenya when the two of them reached Rhaenyra who was staring at the burning pyres.

"The bravest-" Maekar went to say but was cut off by one of the guards.

"Ships to the West!" He cried out, and the gathered parties rushed to the cliff edge.

"How many have you counted?" Viserys asked the guard.

"Ninety five regular ships, fifteen warships," the guard responded.

"Father, tell your men to stand down," Maekar said, staring at the all black sails.

"Why?" Viserys demanded.

"They're my men," Maekar said and rushed down to the shoreline. One lone rowing boat left the ship that leaded the pack, and Maekar was eager to meet it.

"Dothraki?" Said Otto, as he and the King approached behind Maekar. Three men got off the rowing boat, Maekar holding his arms open wide for them.

"Varro, Fakko, Azo!" He cheered, embracing his three remaining Blood Riders with a laugh.

"It cannot be," Viserys muttered in shock. "Dothraki hate the water."

"As it may, Your Grace, it seems Prince Maekar has an army of them," the same guard said, holding a telescope towards his King. Viserys snatched it from him and aimed it towards the boats, seeing more and more Dothraki screamers vomiting over the sides as his eyes carried on.

"Gods be good," Viserys muttered.

—————

Later that evening, Otto sealed a letter with a wax seal at his desk.

"Send a raven to Oldtown. Straight away," he ordered Grand Maester Mellos. Otto handed the letter to Mellos, who nodded and left as Alicent entered.

"My Lady," the Grand Maester bowed his head. He left, leaving Alicent standing in the doorway, nervously picking at the skin around her fingers.

Otto rose from his chair and hugged Alicent.

"My darling," he smiled. "How's Rhaenyra?"

"She lost her mother," Alicent replied.

"The Queen was well-loved by all," Otto tried to comfort her. "I found myself thinking of your own mother today."

"How is His Grace?" Alicnet asked, trying to be polite, yet couldn't care. She only wanted to know of the eldest son.

"Very low. Which is why I sent for you," said Otto, returning to his desk. Alicent's eyebrows rose in surprise. "I thought you might go to him. Offer him comfort"

"In his chambers?" She asked, biting at her nails. "I wouldn't know what to say."

"Stop that," Otto said pointedly, glaring at her nails. "He'll be glad of a visitor," Otto began writing another letter. Alicent turned to leave. "You might wear one of your mother's dresses," Alicent paused for a moment before continuing.

—————

Alicent never realised how close the Royal Chambers were to each other until this moment. Maekar's room was opposite the King's room, and Visenya's room was next door to Maekar's, connected by a single door. Rhaenyra was just down the hall and around the bend. She picked at her nail nervously as she stared between the two doors, a book held tightly under her arm.

"The Lady Alicent Hightower, my Prince," Ser Steffon Darklyn said, opening the door to Maekar's chambers.

"Leave us," Alicent heard Maekar say in a language unknown to her. She watched as three very tall, muscular, dark skinned men leave the Prince's chambers, all laughing and holding their bellies as they went.

"My Lady, whatever do I owe the pleasure?" Maekar asked when Ser Steffon motioned Alicent inside, shutting the door behind him.

"I thought I might come and look in on you, my Prince," Alicent said with as much confidence as she could muster. She remembered back to a conversation with Visenya when she had first arrived in the capital, how Maekar loved history and fighting. "I brought a book."

"That's very kind, thank you," Maekar smiled, pulling a chair out. "Please, sit," Alicent blushed under his gaze and charming smile. When she sat, Maekar pushed the chair in for her. "Wine, my Lady?"

"One cup would not hurt," Maekar smiled, a genuine smile he reserved for those closest to him. "Thank you, my Prince, you are very kind," the air grew thick with an uncomfortable silence. Alicent didn't know what to say and Maekar had never been in the situation before. Alicent grew nervous as she looked around the room.

It was a lot bigger than her room in the Tower of the Hand. In fact, Maekar's room was two rooms into one, split in half by red velvet curtains with black embroidery. The half they sat in was a room of comfort, that had red velvet sofa and chairs in front of a roaring fire and bookcases that hit the ceiling and filled with many books. They sat around a small circular table that held four chairs. Enough for a small family, Alicent thought.

"I am sorry about Queen Aemma," Alicent's voice broke the silence. Maekar's head snapped up from where he was looking at his feet. "When my mother died... people only ever spoke to me in riddles. All I wanted was for someone to say that they were sorry for what happened to me," Alicent grew quiet as Maekar looked at her. Truly looked at her. "I'm very sorry, my Prince."

"Please, my Lady, call me Maekar," the Prince told her in a soft voice, that sounded uncommon for him. Even at a young age Alicent's remembered the Prince being loud with his friends in the training grounds or swimming in the sea.

"I will, only if you call me Alicent," she responded. Maekar let out a low, raspy chuckle.

"Of course, Alicent," she shuddered as her name fell from his lips. "I appreciate your sorrow, Alicent, but please save it for my sisters. I do not deserve it."

"Everyone deserves someone to feel sorrow for them," Alicent responded.

"I grew up pushing Aemma away and hating her all because she replaced a mother I never met, who met the same fate as the Queen," Maekar explained, and Alicent hung on to every word. "It wasn't until there was talk of my father denouncing me as heir and I ran away from home was that Aemma was the best mother a little boy could ask for."

Alicent's eyebrows rose in shock as she watched Maekar's eyes well up with tears. She realised then that Maekar wasn't unhinged like her father would tell her. Maekar was just a broken boy, searching for something he lacked.

"In a way, I feel like this is the Gods punishing me for my actions," Maekar finished, and Alicent took a deep breath, reaching across the table and linking their hands together. Maekar's hands were a lot bigger and a lot rougher than her own, yet she thought they felt just right. "I do not deserve any sorrow, Alicent, I do not deserve anything."

"You have done nothing wrong, Maekar," she said, barely above a whisper. If it wasn't for the silence surrounding them, Maekar wouldn't have caught it. "You are a great man. A man deserving of the leading the realm into greatness. A man deserving of a large family surrounded by love and happiness and affection."

"The one cup of wine has gotten to your head," Maekar jested, a small chuckle escaping his lips at his own joke. Alicent's couldn't help but laugh to, noting their still linked hand, but neither decided to do anything about it. "What book have you brought?"

"A history of the Dothraki," Alicent ran her hand over the cover. "When I saw your Khalasar arrive in those boats I grew curious and wanted to know more."

"Please read it to me, for I fear I do not know much of the army I lead," they shared a smile, and Maekar listened to Alicent's read until the hour grew late.

—————

"Father, Ser Otto," Maekar nodded when he entered the Small Council chamber at the crack of dawn next morning. "Why am I here?"

"He toasted Prince Baelon," Ser Otto said cryptically. "Styling him... "The Heir for a Day," Maekar's face grew cold at the revelation, as did Viserys'. "I corroborated this report with three separate witnesses. The evening was, by all accounts a... celebration."

"Send for my Uncle to meet in throne room," Maekar said to a servant, who awaited for permission from his King. Viserys looked between his son and the servant before nodding his head.

The door opened and Daemon entered to find Viserys sat on the throne, Maekar stood at the foot of the Iron Throne, with four kingsguard in front of them.

"You cut the image of the conqueror, brother," Daemon commented with a smirk. Maekar whistled and two pairs of hands grabbed Daemon, twisting his arms back and kicking him in the back of the leg, causing the Prince to fall to his knees. Daemon tried to struggle but found an arakh at his throat. "Call off your savages!" He demanded Maekar.

"Did you say it?" Viserys asked in a cold voice. Daemon stops struggling.

"I don't know what you mean," he replied with a smirk, feeling the arakh digging into his neck.

"You will address me as "Your Grace," or I will have my Kingsguard cut out your tongue," Viserys seethed, his hand on Blackfyre. "The Heir for a Day." Did you say it?"

"We must all mourn in our own way, Your Grace," Daemon reasoned sarcastically. Maekar nodded and one of his Blood Riders twisted his arm again, nearly causing it to break.

"My family has just been destroyed!" Viserys said solemnly, holding back his true emotions. "But instead of being by my side, or Visenya's, or Rhaenyra's, you chose to celebrate your own rise! Laughing with your whοres and your lickspittles!" Viserys let his anger out, shouting at his brother. "You have no allies at court but me! I have only ever defended you! Yet everything I've given you, you've thrown back in my face."

"You've only ever tried to send me away. To the Vale, to the City Watch, anywhere but by your side!" Daemon shot back. Maekar whistled again and the three Blood Riders let him go. Daemon stood up, brushing himself off. "Ten years you've been king, and yet not once have you asked me to be your Hand!"

"Why would I do that?"

"Because I'm your brother. And the blood of the dragon runs thick," Daemon tried to reason.

"Then why do you cut me so deeply?"

"I've only ever spoken the truth. I see Otto Hightower for what he is."

"An unwavering and loyal Hand?" Viserys shot back, and even Maekar struggled to hide his scoff at that.

"A cunt," Daemon corrected the King. "A second son who stands to inherit nothing he doesn't seize for himself."

"Otto Hightower is a more honorable man than you could ever be," said Viserys.

"He doesn't protect you. I would," Daemon pleaded.

"From what does my father need protection from?" Maekar spoke up for the first time. He walked down the steps, staring his uncle directly in the eye.

"Himself," he said firmly, looking past Maekar at his brother. "You're weak, Viserys. And that council of leeches knows it. They all prey on you for their own ends."

"I have decided to name a new heir," said Viserys, and even Maekar's head snapped towards his father at that.

"I'm your heir," Daemon said.

"No, Maekar is my heir, my eldest son," said Viserys, and Maekar's eyes widened in surprise. "You are to return to Runestone and your lady wife at once, and you are to do so without quarrel by order of your King."

Daemon stepped forward and all four kingsguard moved to stop him.

"Your Grace," Daemon bowed his head. He turned towards Maekar with a cruel smile. "Well done, nephew, it only took you leaving for eight years and bringing back an army of savages for you to be named heir," Maekar stayed silent, not giving Daemon the satisfaction. Daemon turned and left the throne room. Viserys slumped back in the chair and noticed a cut on one of his fingers from the throne.

—————

Maekar stood at the foot of the throne, Lords and Ladies of the realm stood before him and his father. Maekar wore a tunic of black with red embroidery, the unnamed Valyrian steel sword strapped to his waist, the golden crown of the Crown Prince placed upon his head.

"Corlys of House Velaryon, Lord of the Tides and Master of Driftmark," Grand Maester Mellon called out. Lord Corlys stepped forward, kneeling before Maekar and Viserys.

"I, Corlys Velaryon, Lord of the Tides and Master of Driftmark, promise to be faithful to King Viserys and his named heir, the Prince Maekar," said Lord Corlys, looking at the ground. "I pledge fealty to them and shall defend them against all enemies in good faith and without deceit," he was still bitter about Rhaenys being slighted at the Great Council, but a new idea to get his blood on the throne was forming. "I swear this by the old gods and the new."

"I, Viserys Targaryen, first of his name..." Viserys stood when the last Lord recited the vow. "King of the Andals, and the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, and Protector of the Realm, do hereby name..." Maekar looked to his right and saw Alicent's staring at him. He sent her a small smile before looking left at his sister who was glaring at the Hightower girl. "Prince Maekar Targaryen, Khal of the the Narrow Sea, Prince of Dragonstone and heir to the Iron Throne."