CHAPTER NINE
❛the feast.❜

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EARLY 130 AC ⸻ Kings Landing ⸻

"STRANGE... that woman." Daemon muttered.

"What of her?" Rhaenyra questioned, truly giving it no thought. Daemon often rambled about nonsense: it was something Rhaenyra had learned to ignore or ask little of.

"You've heard the rumor . . ." Trailing off as he neared Viserys' room, his tongue clicked against the roof of his mouth. "Now she's out to be a Targaryen, no less."

Rhaenyra nodded, humming softly as they reached her fathers door. Sure, it was slightly concerning that a woman of Basalia's whispers was to become family, but there were more concerning topics of the day.

The guards opened the doors to his chambers and Rhaenyra found herself relieved. There was no sight of any greens, just her father whom she'd missed terribly.

"Father?" She called out, rounding the bed with her two smallest babies. "It is me, my king."

Viserys only groaned in response, the pain taking more of a toll than Rhaenyra was made aware of.

Daemon quickly shared a look with his wife before looking back at his brother, oddly concerned.

The pair needed Viserys now more than they ever had. But, could Viserys even deliver in this state?

⸻

"I love it here." Jahaena grinned, scanning the spines of books with her finger.

Lyria sat with Basalia at the table, a stack of
books between them.

"I also love that there are so many options for us to read!" Lyria beamed. "What are you reading Lia?"

Basalia looked up from her book, "Just about House Targaryen— Visenya to be exact. If i'm going to be a Targaryen, it would do me well to learn the histories."

Jahaena and Lyria nodded, going back to their readings before someone clearing their throat caught their attention .

The girls looked up to see Maerella. "I hope I'm not interrupting."

"Nonsense!" Basalia grinned, gesturing for her to take a seat.

"Visenya." Maerella smiled, reading the title of the scroll that she held.

"My favorite— so far." Basalia spoke softly, Maerella nodded. "Mine as well."

"What brings you here?" Jahaena questioned politely, taking a seat beside Lyria.

"I wanted to encourage you all to come— to stand with my family while we discuss my brother as the Heir of Driftmark."

"Discuss? He is the Heir, is he not?" Basalia questioned, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"It seems it is to be challenged."

Jahaena huffed, "Of course we will attend, Mae." She hated the greens, and she knew they were likely behind this.

Basalia placed a comforting hand on Mae's own as Maerella smiled softly back at her. It was nice knowing that she was not entirely alone— outside of family.

⸻

Basalia Blackwood and her court had arrived early to the discussion of who would be the Heir of Driftmark. Alicent practically forced Basalia to stand with the greens. Lyria and Jahaena stood metres away with the rest of the congregation.

Even though Basalia stood with the greens, her gown was a dance of blacks and reds. She knew who her Queen always was from an early age, and no matter who she married, it would stay that way.

Basalia decided to tune in once Otto sat the iron throne, letting his hand duties air his head. "Though it is the great hope of this court that Corlys Velaryon survives his wounds, we gather here with the grim task of dealing with the succession of Driftmark." He let no moment pass as he continued on, "As Hand, I speak with the King's voice on this and all other matters.
The Crown will now hear the petitions." With a wicked grin, he persevered. "Ser Vaemond of House Velaryon."

Ser Vaemond held a tight grin, "My Queen, my Lord Hand."

Alicent and Vaemond nodded in his direction, preparing for a long speech.

"The history of our noble houses extends beyond the Seven Kingdoms to the days of Old Valyria. For as long as House Targaryen has ruled the skies, House Velaryon has ruled the seas. When the Doom fell on Valyria, our houses became the last of their kind. Our forebearers came to this new land, knowing that were they to fail, it would mean the end to their bloodlines and their name. I have spent my entire life on Driftmark defending my brother's seat." He paused for a moment to hopefully get his point across, " I am Lord Corlys's closest kin, his own blood. The true, unimpeachable blood of House Velaryon runs through my veins. As it does in my sons, the offspring of Laenor Velaryon."

Rhaenyra snickered behind him, "If you cared so much about your house's blood, Ser Vaemond, you would not be so bold as to supplant its rightful heir . . . No, you speak only for yourself and for your own ambition."

Vaemond's blood ran hot as Otto spoke up, "You will have chance to make your own petition, Princess Rhaenyra. Do Ser Vaemond the courtesy of having his be heard."

"What do you know of Velaryon blood, Princess?" Now it was Rhaenyra's turn for her blood to run hot. "I could cut my veins and show it to you and you still wouldn't recognize it. This is about the future and survival of my house, not yours. My queen, my lord Hand." Turning away from Rhaenyra, he faced Alicent and Otto. " This is a matter of blood, not ambition. I place the continuation of the survival of my house and my line above all. I humbly put myself before you as my brother's successor... the Lord of Driftmark and Lord of the Tides."

"Thank you, Ser Vaemond." Otto concluded, turning now to Rhaenyra. "Princess Rhaenyra, you may now speak for your son, Lucerys Velaryon."

Rhaenyra offered no thanks. "If I am to grace this farce with some answer, I will start by reminding the court that nearly 20 years ago, in this very . . ."

Quickly, Rhaenyra was cut off as the double doors swung open to reveal a guard.

"King Viserys of House Targaryen, the 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."

Gasps and hushed whispers immediately broke out as everyone turned towards the door. There King Viserys stood in all his glory. His skin looked decayed— ripped open, even. His face was halfway hidden behind a gold mask as he struggled to make his way towards the Iron Throne, where Otto scrambled to stand up
from.

Basalia found herself grinning widely at the sight. Aemond caught her looks of glee and moved closer to her. This mere action made Ser Leon's, who stood behind her, heart start pounding.

"Remember whose side you claim to be on." Was all Aemond whispered. It left Basalia in a state of confusion. Surely, she knew of the Aegon versus Rhaenyra inner battle of succession, but to be sure Aemond wouldn't care this much. Rhaenyra was the rightful heir, he couldn't be too daft to understand that. Right?

By the time Basalia's attention was back on the scene before her, tensions had risen.

Vaemond snickered, anger taking the reigns, "That is no true Velaryon, and certainly no nephew of mine."

Hoping to avoid violence, Viserys shook his head carefully, " Go to your chambers. You have said enough. Lucerys is my true-born grandson. And you... are no more than the second son of Driftmark." Laughter erupted in small amounts around the room.

This only threw gasoline on Vaemond's internal fire. "You... may run your house as you see fit... but you will not decide the future of mine. My house survived the Doom and a thousand tribulations besides." He turned to face Lucerys, who now hid behind his mother. "I will not see it end on the account of this..."

His words made Daemon's lips turn into a wicked grin. "Say it." He whispered, antagonising Vaemond.

"Her children are bastards!" Vaemond roared. "And she is a whore!"

The rage only boiled in Basalia's bones, causing her to take a step forward. She wasn't titled 'Bloody Basalia' for nothing.

Gasps once again erupted as Rhaenyra's sons hid behind her. Daemon stepped in front of them protectively.

Viserys tried to stand, but he couldn't. "I will have your tongue for that!"

Before Viserys could instruct anyone further, it only took one swift movement of Dark Sister before half of Vaemond's head was on the ground.

Screams were heard as a lot of people flinched, including many of the greens. Basalia stood strong, but at the sight of a sword, Ser Leon moved in front of her. Lyria couldn't rip her eyes away, and Jahaena was rooting for Daemon to do more damage. Team Black forever, in her eyes.

"He can keep his tongue." Daemon spat.

⸻

"That was . . . different." Basalia spoke as she rounded the hallway. She was accompanied by her usual companions, and Jacaerys.

"Daemon is different." Jace added with a chuckle.

"I can not fathom why he would challenge Lucerys' succession, I am awfully sorry that your family was put through that." Basalia concluded.

Jacaerys stopped in his tracks, turning to Basalia.

Ser Leon tightened his grip on his sword while Jahaena and Lyria stood silently.

"No apologies necessary, if anything, I should apologize for what you'll have to go through in the coming months."

Lyria now spoke up in favor of her sister, "What does that entail?"

Jacaerys looked at Lyria, "The fact that she's marrying possibly the worse Targaryen."

Jahaena stifled a laugh while Basalia only grinned. "You are something else, Jacaerys."

"Jace." Jacaerys smiled, "Call me Jace."

⸻

At the small family welcoming feast, the girls took their usual seats.

Jahaena was engaged in deep conversations with Baela as Lyria sat quietly.

"That sounds lovely." Rhaenyra added, concluding the wedding conversation with Basalia for the night.

To the untrained eye, this was a normal family meal.

Jacerys and Helaena danced freely as she giggled. It was a breath of fresh air to be treated correctly by a man.

"So, that was great, father." Maerella grinned towards Daemon. She was his tougher daughter, and she liked the fact that her father took no shit.

"Thank you, Mae."

Maerella then turned towards Basalia, "Ready to be a Targaryen?"

Basalia smiled with a sigh, no one would have noticed it if they weren't paying true attention.

"Of course I am, that means I get to be related to you lovely people."

Mae chuckled, shaking her head. "No need to lie. We are far from lovely."

Rhaenyra suddenly stood, "I wish to raise my cup
to Her Grace, the Queen."

Everyone looked to Rhaenyra as they felt mixed emotions.

"I love my father. But I must admit that no one has stood... more loyally by his side than his good wife. She has tended to him with... unfailing devotion, love, and honor.

And for that, she has my gratitude... and my apology." With a chuckle, she sat down.

Alicent smiled as she felt a sense of relief at her words. "Your graciousness moves me, Princess." Perhaps this childish feud could be put behind them, now.

It was Alicent's turn to stand, "We are both mothers... and we love our children. We have more in common than we sometimes allow. I raise my cup to you... and to your house. You will make a fine queen."

Rhaenyra smiled softly before Jacaerys stood.

"Jace." Rhaenyra warned to no avail.

"To Prince Aegon and... Prince Aemond. We have not seen each other in years, but I have fond memories of our shared youth. And as men, I hope we may yet be friends and allies. To you and your family's good health, dear uncles."

Aemond's lips formed a tight line as he gave no response. Aegon was too drunk to form one.

"Beware the beast beneath the boards." Helaena whispered.

Basalia heard her and began to space out, not noticing how her heart rate had quickened. Her eyes glossed over and her ears began to ring.

As Basalia pulled herself together, she felt the dragon's fierce heat beside her . Turning, she saw Jacerys and Lucerys spatting with Aemond.

"At least we prefer our betrothals over a filthy maid." Lucerys giggled, egging Aemond on.

Lyria shrunk in her seat, placing her fork down. Basalia looked over, slightly confused before Aemond smacked his hand down on the table. He stood to his feet, ready to make a toast.

"Final tribute." Aemond smirked, "To the health of my nephews, Jace... Luke... and Joffrey. Each of them handsome, wise... strong."

"Aemond." Basalia warned.

Much to her and Alicent's displeasure, he continued on. "Come... let us drain our cups to these three... Strong boys."

Jacerys stood, ready to fire back before his mother warned him.

"What? Do you not think yourself to be strong?" Aemond taunted.

"That is enough!" Alicent concluded.

As everyone seemed to be bickering, Basalia noticed Lyria slip out of the room.

"Go to your rooms!" Rhaenyra demanded. "Now! All of you!

⸻

Just after these events, the girls could be seen outside, enjoying the moons light before they were to go to bed.

Their words had ceased as a voice interrupted them. "I'm pleased to find you all in one place." Rhaenyra grinned, watching the three scramble to stand and regain their stature from the bench.

Basalia smiled, "To what do we owe this pleasure, My Princess?"

Rhaenyra walked towards her, taking her hands in her own. "I see parts of myself in you three, you know?"

There was something about Rhaenyra that truly captivated people. Basalia nearly swooned.

"My family and I are leaving for Dragonstone at once, I highly encourage you all to come with us. This is becoming a dangerous place— somewhere you girls don't belong."

"But Aemond—" Basalia began.

Rhaenyra shook her head quickly, "I will figure that out for you. The tides are turning, please heed my warning. Come with us."

Jahaena and Lyria let Basalia speak first.

"I'd love to." Basalia agreed with a squeeze of her hands.

Rhaenyra grinned while Jahaena took a step forward, "Anything to get out of here."

Lyria stood behind with not a word to speak. Her mind was moving like clockwork, yet she couldn't decipher what she wanted to do. Which choice she wanted.

"I will make preparations. I hope to see you soon." Basalia smiled once more before giving Rhaenyra a hug.

"I must now part, but I look forward to seeing you very soon."

Once Rhaenyra left, the three decided to call it a night. Jahaena was simply excited to get the hell away from the greens, while Basalia hoped she could take Ser Leon along.

As to how Lyria felt . . . she herself was not sure of that.

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