HOTD: The Healer Prince SI Chapter 31 (Patreon)

Chapter 31

VISERYS TARGARYEN

Viserys sat in his room, looking at the model of the Valyrian freehold he had crafted over the years, and felt alone. He missed the soft voice of Aemma as she sat with him as he explained to her about the architecture of the freehold. He missed the faint smile she had and the way her presence made him feel so whole.

And his heart twisted in agony, for he knew that he would never have that again. Never. And that it had been his own greed that had cost Aemma her life. His own greed and desire for a son. He had ignored Aenys’s warning, believing his words to be false, despite knowing in his heart that Aenys would never lie about such matters. Yet he had ignored them, choosing to trust the Maesters who had been wrong so many times before, and in the end, he had lost her.

Would Aenys have been able to save her this time? He thought. Yet they would never know, for his brother still lay unconscious across the Sea, recovering from the assassination.

The door to his chambers opened, and in walked the last vestige of Aemma that remained. Rhaenyra entered his chambers, dressed in an ornate black gown, one of Aemma’s he recognized and he felt a glimmer of hope as he noticed the resemblance between her and his departed Queen. Resemblance that he had never previously paid attention to, yet those eyes were different.

Rhaenyra’s gaze held anger and rage, rage that he had never seen in Aemma. He tried to smile, the sensation feeling foreign to him, and motioned for her to sit with his sole arm.

“Come sit, Rhaenyra. It is time we had a talk,” he began and saw her still at his words, and a part of him thought that she would begin screaming at him again like she had when she had first arrived in Kingslanding after hearing of Aemma’s demise. Yet she took a deep breath and sat down.

His gaze passed over her, and he finally realized just how much she had grown up. She was now nearly a woman grown and had grown several inches over the past year.

“A letter arrived from Bravos in the morning,” he began and saw her perk up at the mention of Bravos, and saw her eyes softening at the mention of the city that housed her brother.

“Aenys is finally awake,” he finished and saw her eyes widen for a moment before she frowned once again.

“Thank the seven,” he heard her whisper, as her eyes turned to face him.

“Aemma wished that I make peace with Aenys…” he began and felt Rhaenyra’s eyes narrow at his words.

“And in that regard I have written to him, inviting him back to the capital,” he finished and saw that Rhaenyra was surprised by his words. It had been a difficult decision, yet it had been Aemma’s wish and he knew that it would help in mending his relationship with Rhaenyra.

“That was good of you,” she began slowly as she added.

“I will write to him and Alicent as well, and try and convince them to come back as well,” she began and she stopped again and he saw her hesitate before she slowly began.

“And I would like to apologize for my words earlier. I was angry and hurt and didn’t mean to blame you….” And he smiled and cut in.

“I know,” he cut in and saw her look up, and saw her eyes softening as they landed on his shoulder, worry evident in her gaze.

“What happened to your arm?” she questioned softly and he reached for his side, with his sole arm, and replied in a slow tone.

“The Maesters remain clueless about my ailment. The rot began to spread aggressively, and they were forced to amputate it to contain the rot,” he answered and saw her gaze soften with concern before she finally spoke up.

“Perhaps Uncle Aenys will know something. Maybe you should write to him about this,” she asked and he nodded. With his reputation, there was a high chance that he may indeed know about this disease.

“I will, but that is enough about me. It is time we talk about the reason I called you here,” he began and saw her frown as he slowly began.

“With your mother’s death, the court is pushing for your marriage to secure the line….” And he saw her stiffen at his words and saw her face flush with rage.

“I have held them back, but Rhaenyra, you do need to marry someone,” he cut in and saw her question in an enraged tone.

“And I believe that I have no choice in this matter?” she spoke in a scathing tone, and he shook his head.

“Of course you do,” he said and saw that he was surprised by his words.

“But didn’t you wish for me to marry Daemon,” she questioned, and he nodded slowly as he sighed.

“Yes, but that was in the past. Aemma told me that you were very averse to the match,” and he saw her nod at his words.

“And so, I have decided to let you make the choice. Of course, you would need to choose a person of appropriate status and pedigree, but the choice will be yours. I will not force your hand in the matter,” he assured her and saw a sense of relief pass through her as she nodded.

“Thank you for this, Father,” she spoke up with a small smile, and he felt his heart ease as he saw that smile, a smile so reminiscent of Aemma.

“And there is something else I need to talk to you about father?” she suddenly cut in, making him frown, and before she could ask what about she continued.

“It’s about the Stepstones?”

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ALICENT HIGHTOWER

Alicent Hightower smiled as she saw the perplexed gaze of Aenys land on her protruding belly, and as their eyes met, she gave him a small nod, already answering the question that he was about to ask.

“Yes, I am pregnant,” she said her hand instinctively moving down, as she caressed the budding life gently before she looked up at Aenys who seemed a bit transfixed by the news.

“I wanted to surprise you with the news after the wedding, but then….” And she became quiet, as she squeezed his hand. The whole incident still haunted her, even after so much time.

The room quieted down, before Aenys finally opened his mouth, and spoke out in a perplexed tone.

“Gods! I am going to be a father! Gods!” he nearly cursed as he processed the news, and she smiled seeing him juggling between excitement and worry, a small giggle escaping her mouth at his behavior.

Both of them simply lay there, in the bed hugging each other, as she felt her heart ease up, the anxiety from all those months without him vanishing as she felt a sense of relief and assuredness replaced as they both lay there just lost in each other’s embrace.

“So, I have been unconscious for about eight months months,” he questioned and she nodded and saw his face falter as his arms around her tightened, and he mouthed in a low concerned tone.

“It must have been quite hard for you,” he ventured, and she stilled, all those sleepless and anxiety-ridden days coming back to her, yet they were over now. And when she had been down, there had been people there to support her.

“It was, but it's all over now,” she replied as she looked up at him, and continued.

“Plus, Gwayne and Rhaenyra were there to take care of me while you were unconscious,” and she saw him frown as his head snapped towards her.

“Rhaenyra?” he questioned, and she forgot that she hadn’t mentioned this to him, and she nodded.

“Yes, when she heard about the assassination attempt she flew here on Syrax,” she replied and saw his eyes widen, as he questioned her once more.

“Did Viserys allow it?” and she shook her head.

“Not at first, but he did give her his blessing later,” she replied and saw him nod as his eyes dimmed and he nodded before he spoke once more.

“Then where is she now? And where is Gwayne?” he questioned suddenly and her heart withered as she thought about the reason for their absence.

“They are both gone now,” she began and saw him frown at her words.

“They left you alone and went back, why?” he questioned a bit apprehensively, and she chewed her lips as she finally replied.

“Rhaenyra stayed here for months and accompanied for all this time, but a week ago she received a letter from Kingslanding,” she began and saw his eyes narrow at her words. She looked up at him, knowing that despite the complicated relationship between Aenys and Viserys, he had always cared for the Queen.

“The letter was from Viserys himself and informed her of the death of her mother, the Queen Aemma,” and she saw him still at her words, his eyes widening suddenly before his lips thinned and the sorrow was replaced by anger as he completed her sentence.

“….from childbirth?” he muttered through gritted teeth and she nodded, and she saw him lean back, as he closed his eyes and whispered angrily.

“I warned him. I warned him, yet he ignored it. That god damn idiot,” he cursed in aguish, and she tightened her grip around his chest, pulling herself closer to him, as he processed the news.

Suddenly they were broken out of their trance by a knock on the door of the room, and she straightened herself as Aenys pulled up the sheets as she questioned.

“Who is there?”

“It’s me, Anya, my lady. A representative from the palace came, they said that the trial is about to begin,” her trusted maid informed her, and she saw Aenys frown at those words as he looked towards her.

“Trial?” he questioned, and she nodded.

“Yes, trial for Alissano Neysaris, the man behind the assassination attempt on you and the Sealord,” she informed him and saw his eyes widen as he mouthed.

“It seems like I was right. It was him!”

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Lady Mysery-MYSARIA

On the greatest island amongst all in Stepstones, Bloodstone, men covered in dust and grime worked tirelessly in the scorching heat, ships laden with stone and mortar docked in the island, decorated by the banner of the three-headed dragon, the men heaved loads and loads of stone off the ships, carrying it to towards the gigantic structure that had begun to take form.

Though the men working at the site were no ordinary men, for each of them wore on their necks a collar made of steel, with iron chains wrapped around their ankles and wrists. Once these very men had terrorized the seas, raided ships, and wore gold and silver, they were fat and had eaten in opulence yet now they had become thin and frail, hankering in the heat as the guards with cloaks decorated in red cloaks hung over them with their whips, striking hard at anyone they saw not doing his due share.

She watched with a smirk as the infamous pirates of Stepstones toiled in the scorching Sun to build the castle for a man who had conquered them. Daemon Targaryen had conquered the Stepstones, carving for himself a kingdom out of the tumultuous islands, and providing her with the perfect refuge.

Alissano had tried to assassinate both Aenys Targaryen and the Sealord, lost in his lust for greatness the man had failed to account for failure. She on the other hand had not, and so on that fateful night when she had gotten word that the Sealord had survived, she had immediately slipped out of Bravos, heavy with child, she had boarded a ship and had managed to slip away quickly.

Alissano attempt had tried to flee as well, yet the Sealord had been vicious in his pursuit and had the man hunted down, and from what she had heard the man was set to stand trial for treason soon.

She had known, that if she was to survive or rather thrive she would need to have the support of someone powerful and thankfully, she knew the perfect person. The same person whose child she was carrying in her belly.

“Where is he?” she asked the captain of the red cloaks, and the man hesitated before he pointed towards the cave. She nodded, and began to walk towards the cave with careful steps knowing that she was walking into a literal dragon’s den.

Daemon’s clash with the Company of Rose had left his dragon heavily injured. Yet Daemon had refused to back down, and had asked her to search high and low for any remedy. She had acquiesced and after much effort, they had been able to find someone willing to try their hand at healing the mighty beast.

The cave was warm, and the very ground shook as she heard the low growl of a dragon from the other side.

“Daemon,” she called slowly, and the air stilled as she made the final turn, entering the cave in full. And stilled at the sight in front of him, the Blood Wyrm had always been a formidable beast, its scarlet scales and spiked head gave it a menacing look. But the beast she was looking at now, would send shivers down anyone’s spine.

Its face was no longer red, a part of it now glistened in the light, the broken half of his face, was now covered by steel forged in its own flame, the steel came down its face and covered the massive gash on its neck as well. And

And right there in front of its head stood a man, with flowing silver locks, his back turned to her. Yet the man wasn’t alone. For in his hands, he held a toddler, barely half a year old. The man held the child in his arms, touching its tiny hand to the skin of the beast in front of him.

The dragon stirred at her presence and shifted, the scar on its shoulder became visible, the same silvery metal covered, just like with the scar on its face. And she stilled as she saw those snake-like eyes narrow onto her, but then a sharp voice halted the beast in its step.

“Ceraxes. Umbagon” (Ceraxes. Stay)

The man turned to face, her, and the child’s hair glistened in the light much like the man’s. She saw his eyes land on her, as he spoke slowly.

“Ceraxes is ready. It is time for me to go to Kingslanding!”

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