HOTD: The Healer Prince SI Chapter 5 (Patreon)
Content
Chapter 5- The Tragedy struck!
VISERYS TARGARYEN
Viserys Targaryen had faced many a tragedy in his life. Losing his mother just as she had given birth to his brother was the first. Her loss had left her father devastated, not to mention the grief it had caused him and Daemon. Then it had been their father, hale and healthy yet taken to the bed with a sudden fever, screaming in agony as his brother argued to let him, a child, treat him.
Then the last four stillbirths had taken their toll on him, filling him and his dear Aemma with grief. And for this reason, he had decided to call back his brother, hoping things could be different.
Yet it seemed that Gods were not done with their cruelty. He watched as the funeral pyre was lit for the fifth time. The bundled body of his babe was ensembled in a pit of fire as his daughter wept in front of it, supported on the side by Lady Alicent.
He should have been down there, comforting Rhaeneyra. Yet he couldn’t bring himself to leave the room, leave his dear Aemma as he lay lifelessly on the bed battling life and death. He held his hand, which had grown paler and thinner, holding little warmth of life.
“Has there been any change?” he questioned the Grand Maester and the man shook his head.
“I am afraid not, your grace. Whatever Prince Aenys did was able to bring back her pulse, yet we remain oblivious to the next course of action. I believe that only he can be certain about what is to be done next,” Mellos’s admission made his temper flare.
Such incompetence. Maybe Aenys had been right all those years ago. Maybe Grandfather should have listened to him.
“And what about my brother? It has been quite some time now. Why hasn’t he woken up yet?” Aenys had fallen unconscious in the middle of the treatment, leaving his work unfinished and leaving his son unattended.
“According to the letter from Lady Maegella, the Prince has been riding nonstop for months just to reach Westeros. He rode continuously for at least three days. Given the perils of such a journey, the buildup of exhaustion is what caused the prince to faint away….”
But Visery had had enough, so he gritted his teeth as he uttered menacingly.
“I asked when he will wake up!” and he saw Mellos roll back at his temper before he spluttered to finally answer his initial question.
“I am afraid I don’t have a definite answer, but it should be within two days, according to my estimates, your grace,” and Visery nodded, the hope in his heart still flashing embers.
“Though, I must caution you that you must be prepared, your grace. The Queen’s condition is very precarious. I am afraid that even Prince Aenys may not be able to save her,” Mellos spoke up again.
A small part of Visery wanted to burn the man for speaking such doomed words, yet his saner part told him that they were the truth. When he had seen red cover the birthing bed’s sheets and had heard Aemma’s screams, he had prepared himself for the worst. He had hardened his heart, that his folly for continuously trying for a son had cost him his dear Aemma.
“I know Grand Maester. I know. But try to keep her stable for as long as you can. Mayhaps my brother can pull out one more miracle from his pocket,” he finished as he gave Aemma’s hand a chaste kiss before standing up, preparing to leave the chambers.
“Of course, your grace,” bowed the Grand Maester, and Viserys began to leave the room. Perhaps the council would be able to provide a distraction.
Though, just as he was about to leave the room, his way was blocked by the form of his daughter and her friend Alicent. Rhaeneyra stopped seeing him, and Viserys’s heart broke as he saw her reddened eyes and disheveled hair.
“Rhaeneyra I ….” Though before he could finish words. His daughter crashed into his arms, and both of them broke down into quiet sobs as they mourned their loss.
And perhaps for the first time in a long time, Viserys thanked the Gods for the mercy of giving him Rhaeneyra. For giving him and Aemma someone to symbolize their love.
Behind them, Alicent’s eyes were also inflamed as she saw her friend in grief and agony, her heart a bundle of emotions that she quashed as quickly as they were born.
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CORLYS VELARYON
Corlys Velaryon watched as the door to the council chambers was opened, and the King walked in, his face mottled with fatigue and sorrow. Everyone stood up as Viserys walked despondently towards his chair. The mood in the chambers became more somber than it previously was.
“Your grace, you have our deepest condolences on your loss,” began Otto Hightower in his usual druel voice. The King nodded as he sat down on his chair.
“Your support is appreciated,” the King commented as they all sat down as well, none daring to speak up until Lord Strong spoke up.
“How is the Queen’s health, your grace?” Corlys noted how Viserys face turned even more somber at the mention of the Queen, indicating that the news was not good.
“The Grand Maester is trying, yet I am afraid there isn’t anything good to say.”
“And what about Prince Aenys, I heard he suddenly fainted while trying to heal the Queen?” Corlys questioned and Visery nodded as he spoke.
“Indeed, Aenys has been riding hard for months to reach Westeros, riding without any sleep for a number of days just to make it in time. The Grand Maester says he will make a full recovery and wake up sometime later tomorrow,” and just before Corlys spoke any further, the Hand spoke up from his seat.
“In regards to the Prince, I would like to bring something to your attention, your grace,” Otto Hightower began as he motioned for one of Kingsguard to step forward. And Corlys frowned as the man in the white cloak placed a cloaked object on the table.
“While they were moving the Prince, they discovered this on him,” began the Hand as he uncovered the object to reveal a sword. Not a long sword, but a rather thin short sword. But it wasn’t the length of the sword that mattered.
And Corlys couldn’t stop himself from touching the cool swirly patterned metal, not caring how it left a cut on his finger.
“Valyrian steel,” Corlys whispered as the council focused on the weapon, lamenting slightly as he remembered how his own house had lost its valyrian steel sword.
But how had Aenys gotten his hands on this? And could he get any more?
“The sword is Valyrian steel and not amongst any of those recorded by the Maesters, meaning that this is a newly forged sword.”
And Corlys saw Viserys perk up at that, “What do you mean to say, Otto?”
“Nothing except that this is an important piece of information as various houses have lost their prized valyrain steel weapons in the past….”
And Corlys immediately understood the implication behind those words. Otto was trying to insinuate that Prince had dealt with people who had robbed Westeros houses of their swords to obtain this weapon.
And it seemed he wasn’t the only one.
“This is enough, Otto. When Aenys wakes up, I shall ask him about this. Now is there anything else left to discuss,” and then Otto Hightower spoke up once more his words alarming Corlys.
And the whole council remained quiet foe while there may have been many matters regarding the realm that needed to be looked after, there was a consensus that the King should not be overburdened at such perilous times.
“Then I call this meeting to an end,” announced Viserys as he got up, all of them stood up as well only seating down once more after Viserys had left the chambers.
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ALICENT HIGHTOWER
“Rhaeneyra! You can not starve yourself like this. This is not good for you,” Alicent tried to coax her friend to take even a small bite of her food, though her words seemed to fall on deaf ears as Rhaeneyra remained glued to her mother’s bed, holding her hand, barely holding back her tears.
Alicent’s heart ached to see her like this, filled with sorrow and pain. She liked seeing the Rhaeneyra she had grown up with, the one that dreamt of flying away on her dragon, being a knight, and always eating cake.
She walked up to her friend and hugged her from behind, feeling her trembling body as she wrapped her arms around her to provide any semblance of warmth, something she remembered her brother Gawayne had done when her mother had left this world.
“You can not do this to yourself. You must not lose hope. With your uncle here, your mother will be under the care of the best healer in the whole world,” and by all the rumors of the court, that was an accurate statement. Though, her words did not seem to reassure her dear friend.
“What good is he? He was not able to save my brother, and now he slumbers as my mother fights a battle for her life,” Rhaeneyra’s words were scathing though her accusations were false. She had asked her father about the Prince and had gotten the truth about his condition.
“Your uncle rode for three days without any sleep just to reach before your mother’s labors began, and according to Grand Maester, was the one who even managed to save your mother, and if the Gods will, he would be able to save her again,” she tried to reassure Rhaeneyra who chewed her lips and gave her a small nod.
Alicent smiled, moving to sit right beside her, having Rhaeneyra lean against her.
“Now, you wouldn’t want your mother to worry upon seeing you after she wakes up, right? So, why don’t you have a couple of bites of the food? The Queen wouldn’t want you to starve yourself,” she spoke softly, picking up the plate of food from the side and placing the fork in front of Rhaeneyra’s mouth.
And after some hesitation, Rhaeneyra took a small bite, much to Alicent’s relief.
“Would you pray for her to the Seven,” Rhaeneyra asked, and Alicent smiled, her hand waving through Rhaeneyra’s silvery strands.
“Of course, I will, and so will the rest of the realm. Everyone will be praying for the Queen,” she said, her head resting against her friends. And she could sense the hesitation in her friend’s posture before she heard her whisper in a small voice.
“Will you take me with you? To pray,” and Alicent nodded as she took Rhaeneyra’s hand into her own, reassuring her of her presence.
“Of course, though, that will be after you finish at least half the plate of food,” With that, Alicent brought another spoon full of cake to her mouth, which Rhaeneyra ate without protest.
“Thank you, Alicent,” Rhaenneyra muttered as she snuggled into her embrace, and Alicent once more felt her heart beat faster, and her body flush up as her friend leaned onto her.
“You never have to thank me for anything, Rhaeneyra. Ever.” She said, kissing Rhaeneyra on the head and wrapping her arms around her once more, ignoring how her heart raced in her chest.
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DAEMON TARGARYEN
Daemon picked up another flagon of wine and brought it to his mouth, his senses growing duller with each sip. The whole brothel was filled with the noise of flesh thumping against flesh as members of the city watched, letting their lust take over their senses.
Mysaria walked towards her, her body swaying with every step, enticing him, as she made her way towards him. She took her place in his lap, taking away the flagon he had picked up and throwing it aside as she gave him a coy smile.
“This stuff isn’t worth it for the sole heir of the Seven Kingdoms,” and she picked up an ornate glass from the side, passing it to him. Daemon brought it up to his nose, sniffing the aroma of the rich arbor gold, and smiled.
A drink worthy of his station.
He took a sip as Mysaria pivoted on his lap and was now facing him. Even in his stupor, she found her beautiful and couldn’t help cursing Viserys and the Old coot for arranging his match with that Bronze Bitch.
‘Perhaps, he could now ask Viserys to dissolve his marriage. Maybe with the lack of heirs, he might even listen to him,’ Daemon thought as Mysaria began kissing his neck, his body heating up as his dulled senses responded to her provocations.
Suddenly there was a loud banging as one of the captains spoke out, “SILENCE! SILENCE!”
The commotion began to die down as the captain continued.
“THE PRINCE WILL SPEAK!” he commented, and Daemon wanted to let this go, but he found Mysaria whispering into her ear.
“It seems the people want to hear their prince,” she said coyly, pivoting to his side as she pushed him on, “why don’t you fulfill their wish?”
Daemon looked around and found everyone was now focused on him, waiting for him to address. He shakily picked up the glass of arbor gold and stood up, swaying lightly, but he found himself getting supported by Mysaria.
“The King and Council have long rued my position as heir. They have long sought to replace me.”
And there was howling and shouting as the city guard showed their response to this. Daemon felt powerful in their praise and loyalty.
“They even went as far as to call back perhaps my brother, whom some call the best healer of this age. Yet it seems even that cannot stop my rise, for the Gods decide that fate of men, so I propose a toast!”
And he raised his glass of arbor gold, some of the vintage dripping down and making a splash, in the quieted brothel!
“TO BAELON TARGARYEN!”
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