The Dragon and the Rose // Aemond Targaryen

Chapter 19

Some of y'all ain't gonna like this

Otto's pov

Otto Hightower had always, from his youth been a careful man. From a young age his father would always tell him how he knew exactly what to say, when to say and how to say it. 

He vividly remembered his father's words "You will bring pride to the Hightower name son.". But at the time, he had not cared for it. A lifetime ago the Hand of the King pictured a different sort of life for himself. Yet he did not let himself linger on those thoughts anymore. 

Otto sighed reclining back into his seat in the Small Council chambers. King Viserys' ever loyal lords discussed trouble in the Dornish capital. The Hand only half listened. His attention was rather focused on the head beneath the crown. 

His King seemed to grow wearier at these meetings each day. Both the King and Otto himself found themselves staring at the empty chair that was once occupied by Alicent and before her Queen Aemma. Otto was no fool, he knew there was no love in his daughter's marriage with the King. Perhaps he had deluded himself into thinking that his daughter would ever grow to love such a weak and foolish man. 

Forget, forget, forget.  

He forced the thoughts away. Alicent's death was not his fault. She died of birth complications, it was natural. He told himself that every night before he slept since her funeral. She may have married a dragon but Alicent was a Hightower, and she was buried as such. 

Otto thought of his daughter, all alone with her pearly white bones in the cold and dark. He remembered those first days after her death. He had felt nothing, a numbness as if his mind had suddenly blanked, devoid of all thought. When he held his granddaughter, the one Alicent died for he felt nothing then too. 

Surprisingly out of all his grandchildren for some inexplicable reason he cared for Viserra the most. In a way she reminded him of Alicent, always so eager to please. But underneath all that sweetness and compassion, there lay a ferocious intelligence. Though Viserra did not know it she was born to play the game of thrones. He supposed every rose had to have a hidden thorn or two. 

Still he found himself fascinated by her wit, her intelligence. Under his tutelage he knew she would be a better player than Alicent ever was despite being a woman. 

Hours later after their small council meeting concluded he sat at his desk in the Tower of the Hand. Otto read a letter regarding a betrothal offer to Viserra. From Jason Lannister of all people. 

The Hand scoffed in his elegance, what the Lannister's lacked in subtlety they had in greed. As if being refused by one princess wasn't enough for the lordling, he had the nerve to ask for Viserra's hand as well. Not that Viserra would ever find out about it. No, Otto scrunched the letter into a ball and tossed it into the hearth watching as the flame hissed and crackled as it consumed the parchment. 

Viserra would likely accept an offer of marriage from any lord that deigned to ask. But he would not marry his granddaughter off to a Lannister. Had she been older Otto would have wed her to Aegon. Despite the boys...idiocies Viserra would make a fine queen by his side. He could picture her as another Alysanne or Rhaenys.  But she would not be. Still Otto would ensure a more prosperous match. 

If he married her to one of Rhaenyra's bastards, Jacaerys perhaps it would allow him access to Dragonstone. With Viserra's trueborn heritage Rhaenyra would have to accept. And it'd allow Viserra to retain her title as princess. The hard part however, was to get the whore to accept the proposal in the first place, since he'd refused her to betroth her son and Helaena.

On that he expected an heir from Aegon and Helaena within the year at least. Aegon was good for nothing if not producing incessant children. Otto had been informed many times of certain silver haired children kept in orphanages and backs of brothels in hopes their father may claim them. On his grave he would allow no such thing. Aegon needed trueborn children to strengthen his claim. Half the Realm adored Rhaenyra, the other half wished to sleep with her. Since Alicent's death the people seemed more and more in favor of Rhaenyra than ever. If only Aegon would cease his activities. Rumors of Aegon's trysts with the maids of the Keep had travelled across the seven kingdoms.  

Otto sighed when a knock came at the door to his study. "Enter" he called not taking his eyes off his letter replying to Jason Lannister's request. 

"My lord?" his attendant and squire Willas said. The Hand looked up and observed the thin boy he'd found in Flea Bottom three years ago. The brown haired boy walked in silently, he'd filled out much more in those three years, considering he now had a proper bed and three meals a day. 

"Willas, did you bring what I asked?" He asked. He tried to be as gentle as he could with the boy. He found him starving and alone in Flea Bottom, the boy had known how to read surprisingly when Otto asked why he refused to say. Over the years he'd found uses for Willas. He had always wanted a squire. Despite having a rougher upbringing than most Willas was an adept learner and a gentle boy. It had irritated Otto tremendously when he first began his employment but he grew to tolerate it. 

"Yes m'lord." he said whisperingly. The boy still clung to old habits. Otto clucked his tongue making the boy flinch. Of course this poor whelp from Flea Bottom had been mistreated by his previous caretakers. 

"My lord, Willas. Not m'lord, keep trying." he said forcing himself to be gentler, as he tried to be with Viserra. 

"Right, of course my lord." he replied slightly more upbeat. He brought the tray to the desk and placed it down gently. Upon it was a bottle of Arbor white wine, a neatly folder unidentifiable letter from a friend and a sweet smelling plum pastry. 

"Thank you Willas, I shall ring for you when I have a need.". Willas smiled at him and took his leave. 

As the silence of the Tower of the Hand descended once more, Otto popped the cap off the wine bottle and poured himself a glass. He was not one for wine usually but sometimes a man needed something to wash away his sorrows. Alicent would have laughed. She had loved wine far more than he ever had. As did his wife. Now they were both gone. The Gods played cruel games indeed. 

He sipped his wine slowly, taking the letter off the tray and opening it slowly. He scoffed at his trembling hands forcing himself to be steady he opened the letter slowly. The messy scrawl of Larys Strong spoke another terrible riddle. 

The dragon's seed is planted.
 The second sea rages.
A girl makes a curious enquiry on the street. 
Whom does the Hand trust as the king ages. 

The Clubfoot always wrote like that. Cryptic and unnecessarily poetic. Though his riddles were dismal in terms of difficulty the Hand wondered if it would kill him to simply write things as they were. He was a strange man that one, but useful. 

Otto sighed in exasperation, he'd have to visit Flea Bottom again it seemed. But for now Otto took a small spoon and dug into the pastry. It was rich in taste and had a lovely aftertaste. He ought to give the cook his compliments. He admired the layers of chocolate and icing, along with the blood red color of the plum filling. 

Perhaps in another life...

Eventually he finished the pastry savoring the sweet taste coated on his tongue. Otto Hightower then, being the diligent Hand that he was returned to his papers and scheming once more. He glanced one more time at the riddle, the different pieces finally clicking into place. He'd have to inform the King, but he suspected word would arrive from Dragonstone soon enough. And perhaps it was time to pay a visit to the Velaryon's as well. All in due time. 

He continued writing his letter to Jason Lannister, he suspected he'd be writing more of such letters from now on. 

Y'all rlly thought Viserra got her sweet tooth from Alicent ;)