3. Wishful Thinking

7.7K 312 9
                                    

Snow on the beach // Tyrion Lannister out now!



'Is it healing?'

'It has grown slightly, Your Grace.' Mellos told him as he examined the wound

'Can you say yet what it is?' Otto questioned

'We've sent inquiries to the Citadel. They are searching the texts for similar cases.' Mellos told him

'It's a small cut from sitting the throne. It's nothing.' Viserys told them.

'The King has been under heavy stresses preparing for the birth. Bad humors of the mind can adversely affect the body.' Mellos assured

'Whatever it is, it needs to be kept quiet.' Otto remarked. No one need know that the king was sick.

'We should leech it again, maester.'

'It's a wound that refuses to heal, Grand Maester. Might I suggest cauterization?' one of the maester suggested poking at the wound on Viserys back.

'Cauterization would be a wise course of treatment, Your Grace. It will be painful...' Mellos warned.

'Fine. Fine.' Viserys agreed.

+

"Hello mother."

"Taelon... my sweet boy." Aemma said reaching up for him, he knelt beside the bath tub.

"Sweet." He chuckled.

"You used to be." Aemma offered.

"Father I think is on the brink of naming your name babe the heir." Taelon chuckled.

"Never. He loves you." Aemma assured.

"I know and I him." Taelon agreed dully.

"But..." Aemma offered.

"I think he thinks me more like Daemon sometimes." Taelon remarked.

"Seven hells." Aemma muttered. "You are nothing like your uncle Daemon." Aemma said confidently.

"You tell father you are done being his baby maker after this?" Taelon questioned gently. Aemma looked back at him, Taelon's focus on his feet.

"My sweet boy." Aemma repeated bringing a hand to his chin.

"I worry about you. It is a lot of miscarriages, I don't want to lose you for a pooping, crying little shit." Taelon informed her honestly as he twisted on the balls of his feet.

"Love this baby, Taelon. Love this baby like you love Rhaenyra." Aemma asked and Taelon snorted a laugh. As Rhaenyra aged his love for his sister had shifted.

"Nyra would be jealous." Taelon offered and Aemma rolled her eyes as the door opened. "Father... lovely night." Taelon remarked kissing his mothers cheek as he rose.

"Taelon." Viserys pat his back as he passed. "Pleasant conversation?" Viserys mused.

"I love Taelon. It is you two that butt heads." Aemma reminded him.

"He flaunts his privilege of being the heir, he does as he pleases and takes off for moons at a time." Viserys remained her.

"He is young."

"He is ten and eight." Viserys corrected. "I was promised to you at-"

"Ten and seven, yes I know I was there." Aemma agreed kindly.

"Aemma love... I just want him to get his act together."

"He has plenty of time for fun, you are not going anywhere." Aemma reminded him as Viserys crossed the room crouching next to her.

"I just wish...." Viserys couldn't even say it out loud.

"He was less like your brother?" Aemma said as though reading his mind. Viserys nodded running a hand through the bath water.

'You spend more time in that bath than I do on the throne.' Viserys told her. She was soaking in the tub her large pregnant belly sticking out of the water. She sighed as she looked over to him.

'This is the only place I can find comfort these days.'  Viserys ran his fingers over the water.

'It's tepid.' He remarked with distaste.

'It's as warm as the maesters will allow.'

'Don't they know dragons prefer heat?' Viserys reminded her with a grin.

'Hm. After this miserable pregnancy... I wouldn't be surprised if I hatched an actual dragon.' Aemma told him and he laughed out happily.

'Then he will be loved and cherished.'

'Rhaenyra has already declared that she is to have a sister.' Aemma told him, "Taelon agreed with Rhaenyra but he always does."

'Really?' Viserys said trying to hide the edge from his voice, he needed a son, not another daughter. He needed a son. It was going to be a son. A good son, a responsible son, one that if needed the crown could be passed to. Taelon was not a reliable man to wear the crown but was anyone at his age?

'She even named her.'

'Dare I ask?'

'Visenya.' Aemma told him and he chuckled. 'She chose a dragon's egg for the cradle that she said reminded her of Vhagar.' Aemma went on. "Taelon and her spent I think a good few hours finding the perfect one." Viserys did admire how close his children were.

'Gods be good. This family already has its Visenya.'

'Has there been any word from your dear brother?' Aemma mused

'Not since I named him Commander of the City Watch. I'm sure he will reemerge for the tourney. He could never stay away from the lists.' Viserys told her

'The tourney... to celebrate the second son that we presently do not have.' Aemma reminded him stiffly. 'You do understand nothing will cause the babe to grow a cock if it does not already possess one?'

'This child is a boy, Aemma.' Viserys told her and she scoffed 'I'm certain of it. I've never been more certain of anything."

"We have a son, he is perfect and wonderful. I don't know why you are thinking of replacing him." Aemma offered but Viserys shook his head.

"I had a dream Aemma. The dream. It was clearer than a memory. Our son was born wearing Aegon's iron crown-"

"Taelon will look great in Aegon's crown." Aemma informed him..

''When I heard the sound of thundering hooves splintering shields, and ringing swords and I placed our son upon the Iron Throne as the bells of the Grand Sept tolled and all the dragons roared as one.' Viserys went on in his own mind of what would be.

'Born wearing a crown? Gods spare me... birth is unpleasant enough as it is.' Aemma told him 'This is the last time, Viserys. I've lost one babe in the cradle, had two stillbirths, and two pregnancies ended well before their term. That's five... in twice as many years. I have provided you a heir." She reminded him. "I wish you would train him to be the next king instead of wishing for someone better."

"I'm not doing that." Viserys said defensively but he was.

"Viserys...."

"Im not." He countered but he was. He hated to admit it but he was hoping for a tame son to mold in his image.

"I've mourned all the dead that I can.' Aemma told him softly.

Labyrinth // Rhaenyra Targaryen (1)Where stories live. Discover now