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ELEVEN;
『 RULERS OF THE REALM 』

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ㅤ RHAENYRA AND DAEMOND MAKE THEIR DEPARTURE TO THE RED KEEP. The rest of us keep our posts idle. I count the seconds. The seconds turn into minutes. Five minutes turn into ten. Ten minutes turn into fifteen. Ghaelar's wings flap, keeping us in the air, but we do not move. I narrow my eyes and keep my senses about me. My fingers tap the mount as I wait rather impatiently for the return of my parents.

       Finally, I see the outline of two dragons appear. Rhaenyra comes first followed closely by Daemon behind her. She extends her hand to the sky and holds out two fingers. Surrender. We also had gone over the hand motions that would be displayed upon my parents returning. One finger means bring on the army and storm the lands, two fingers means that the other sie has surrendered.

"Alicent Hightower has agreed to give up the Iron throne," my mothers voice booms into the sea below. "But not to me." The openness of the sea allows her voice to carry, although I highly doubt that the ships at the back can hear what she's saying. Word will be carried soon enough. I lift my head slightly at the last part of her sentence- not to me.

My mother gestures for Aemond and I. I exchange a look with him. My parents, Aemond, and I all ride to the dragon pit. The dragon guards don't even bother to poke or prod at the dragons. In fact, they disappear from the pit upon our arrival. Confused, I look at my mother. She's left Jacaerys in the sky and the fleet in the sea. There must be a just reasoning for this.

"Alicent has agreed to give up the throne," she is winded from the ride. "If it is you and Aemond to rule. A Targaryen and a Targaryen." Her words jumble in my head.

"You and father are a Targaryen," I conclude. "For what reason will she block you from ruling?" I feel a scarceness beginning to creep through me. The thought of sitting on the Iron Throne has never been more than a mere idea of curiosity, now I stand before my mother whom tells me that is what I must do.

"I am blocked from ruling because in Viserys' final will, he stated that the throne shall be given to Alerhya Targaryen, his granddaughter." I blink. That makes no sense. Rhaenyra and Viserys have had a forged bond since the beginning of their time together. Myself being written into the will as ruler upon his death would make no sense.

"Why not Jacaerys? Lucerys? As you have said, mother, a woman for a ruler would divide the seven kingdoms." I almost cannot find the room to speak. My jaw is tight.

"Jacaerys is still to rule High Tide. And Lucerys... I don't know." She musters out. A shaky hand presses to my forehead. I turn and walk a few paces to the edge of the dragon pit. I feel sickly. My stomach has become weak and my body suddenly feels much warmer than it should. Ruling. Marriage. Constant threats. The seven kingdoms divided. These are all terrifying things that would come with my rule.

Alicent will want me to marry Aemond, her son, so that she will have a reason to remain at King's Landing. If I were to marry anyone else and rule, I could force her away from here, far away. But there is no one else I would rather marry. Aemond is the only suitor on all of the seven kingdoms that I could ever imagine sharing a bed with. The entirety of Westeros will fall into chaos upon my rule. But, would I rather have Aegon become king? I would not. The wrath of his rule may take longe to appear than mine, but his would amount to more death. I still cannot fathom why Viserys has chosen me to rule instead of my mother. I recall him once speaking of a prophecy, but he had been very sick. He said something about fire and ice and dragons following in the make of my mothers rule. Perhaps that is why I was chosen. At least, that's what I tell myself to keep from endless cogs turning in my mind.

I turn back to my parents. The wind whips at my hair. "I will go to Alicent and agree to her terms." The surrounding silence seems quieter than it should. My mother nods then looks to the sky. My eyes follow hers. Jacaerys still floats in the sky, unmoving but ready to attack.

"I will command the fleet to turn around then the rest of us will return and find you." She replies quickly. She hops on Syrax and departs. Daemon follows a tail-length behind. My heart pounds in my chest and my head throbs. My hands shake and I feel lightheaded. My throat runs dry.

       I look at Aemond, whom of which is already looking at me. I manage a nod then begin walking towards the Red Keep. He follows just a few paces behind. The guards step aside and allow us to enter, already aware of our faces and likely why we are here. The doors are pushed open. I storm down the main hallway to the throne room. The doors are already open. I adjust the dragon pin on my riding gear then enter. My footsteps seem to echo rather loudly. Alicent, Aegon, Helaena, and Otto all stand next to the throne. The rest of the room is filled with lords, maesters, and other highborns. I stop walking before reaching the stairs leading up to the throne. My eyes glance across the swords sticking out around the giant chair.

      Alicent steps down the stairs, slowly, holding a roller parchment. As she gets closer I manage to make out the aging on her face. She seems to have aged quite a lot since the last time I saw her. I grab the parchment and unroll it. The handwriting is my grandfathers, the words are like he would speak then, but the message is unfathomable. I am to be named Queen following his death. I have been the named heir since the writing of this will, yet I, nor anyone else has seemed to know that.

       "I will honor the wishes of my husband," Alicent's words surround everyone in the room. "Alerhya Targaryen is to be named Queen and Aemond Targaryen King, as Rhaenyra and I have agreed upon." I exchange a glance with Aemond, who stands beside me. I return the parchment back to Alicent. Aegon shifts uncomfortably where he stands. I can see the disgust on his face, the anger and frustration. He looks away within a few seconds, likely not being able to truly look at me after what had happened between him and I- my revenge plot.

      "This will go into effect immediately." Otto Hightower, former Hand of the King says from his place beside his grandchildren. "Your ceremonies will be tonight, both naming ceremonies and your wedding. They must be done at once." He says. I'm not sure who he thinks he is, acting like the Hand of the King whenever he was not only fired from the position, but also after Viserys has died. He has no right to be making these claims when my grandfather is not even in his grave.

       "I do believe the King and Queen have the ability to name their own hands," my voice sounds weaker than Otto's. "Aemond?" My voice quiets as I turn to him. He nods in agreement. He and I turn to face the audience of the throne room. I place my hands in front of my body.

      "Ser Harwin Strong will become the Hand of the King," Aemond's voice could shake the room. Compared to my own voice, it sounds as though his words alone could burn cities and command a whole army.

       "Lucerys Velaryon will act as the Hand of the Queen." I decide. My voice has grown slightly stronger, but still it does not quite compare. Jacaerys will soon rule High Tide and Lucerys will have nothing. He has even had to stay behind as the rest of his family fights. This position will give him something to work for. I know I've made the best decision. I trust my brother with my life and I value his opinions. Aemond having chosen Ser Harwin surprises me, but I'm also glad he has done so. Ser Harwin has been apart of my life since I was very young. I trust him as much as I trust my parents. I know Aemond had chosen him to make sure I'm extra secure, which I appreciate.

      Otto takes a step towards me, positioning himself slightly in front of me. "Are you positive you would rather two inexperienced individuals help you to run a kingdom rather than myself? I am more experienced and-" I cut him off before he can say anything else to annoy me.

      "I am quite positive, Otto, of our decisions." I say with a touchingly sarcastic smile. My eyes scan the crowd of people. "Thindrel Volomon," I say. "You had led the coronation of my mother when she was crowned as heir. Would you do the same for myself and Aemond?" I ask. Every pair of eyes turns to look at him. He nods. He is perhaps the oldest man I have ever know. Somehow he still moves without any problems, which amazes me. He had the memory of an owl and the wiseness of a hundred years. Alicent and her group slip off the stairs and shift into the crowd.

      Thindrel climbs the stairs with a bit of heavy breathing. He approaches us then turns to face the crowd. My mind has wondered for so long what it would be like when my mother would become Queen. I imagined there would be thousands of people from all over Westeros. I thought that there would be a giant feast and there would be dancing and there would be happiness. Though, I cannot seem to find any of these things at my own coronation. I am being named Queen and yet I don't even feel like a Princess. I am to marry the man standing next to me and yet I find myself recalling how much marriage terrifies me. I am to rule over seven kingdoms and yet I can barely maintain my own sanity, let alone the sanity of hundred of thousands of people.

       Thindrel holds his hand up in the air and a man comes out of the crowd with two pillows. Each of the plush pillows have a crown atop them. They are equally as beautiful as the other. The crown on the left pillow is thicker and made of gold. There are two stones at the face of the crown, one an emerald and one a ruby- the color of house Hightower and house Targaryen. The other grown is a smaller gold and has the same jewels, but smaller ones, dotted all the way around the crown. The man kneels at the bottom of the steps with the crowns hovering in the air.

       Thindrel steps in front of us, holding a dull sword in his hand which he had pulled from his belt. He commands us both to kneel. We do. He taps my right shoulder with the blade, muttering some scared words. I cant make out what he's saying, but I assume it's part of the ritual. My eyes bounce to the doors of the throne room, where to figures stand. Rhaenyra and Daemon. My mother and my father. My mother is smiling like she's never been so overjoyed, and my father has even managed to muster something of a grin.

"A Princess becomes a Queen," Thindrel says as he taps my other shoulder. "A Queen is to rule alongside her husband. A Queen is to protect the realm and everyone in it. A Queen has been forged from the blood of dragons," his words make me shiver. "Queen Alerhya Targaryen, Keeper of Dragonstone, Queen of the Andals and the First men, Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, and Protector of the realm." My eyes flutter closed. I breathe, taking every word in. His sword taps my head. My ceremony is over. They may have been just words and actions, but they are words and actions that have since transformed he from a Princess to a Queen.

Aemond's ceremony happens next. My eyes open. I crane my head a slight amount in order to watch his ceremony happen. Thindrel runs through the same motions and recites the same words.

"A Prince becomes a King," he says. "A King is to rule. A King is to protect the realm and everyone in it. A King has been forged from the blood of dragons," he catches his breath. "King Aemond Targaryen, Keeper of Dragonstone, King of the Andals and the First Men, Ruler of the Seven Kingdoms, and Protector of the Realm."

Thindrel sheathes his sword back into his belt then pulls a small dagger from his boot. He asks for my hand. I extend it. He sinks the blade into the palm of my hand. Blood begins to trickle down my hand immediately. Thindrel slices Aemond's hand next. He commands us to rise. We do. I know what I must do. I sprinkle the blood from my hand onto the throne. Aemond does the same.

"May the blood of the dragon protect the Seven Kingdoms." Thindrel says. After enough blood has been spilled, we close our hands and turn back to Thindrel. The crown holder has appeared next to him. He takes the larger crown and places it on Aemond's head, then the smaller crown and places it on me. The crown holder scurries back into the crowd, then Thindrel walks us to the center, in front of the throne. He stands off to the side, allowing the entirety to see us.

"Your King and your Queen, Aemond Targaryen and Alerhya Targaryen." His voice makes me shudder. Everyone in the room, including Thindrel bows. Even my mother and my father, who stand at the back close to the doors, bow. Jacaerys bows too, but not his head. He continues to look at me with a sheepish grin. My eyes scan more. Alicent, Otto, Aegon, and Helaena bow. Aemond's hand slips into mine. His right hand had been cut, as mine had, therefore my blood soaks his clean hand. Aemond nods his head slightly and everyone stands. Thindrel speaks again.

"Since the Hand of the King has not yet arrived from his journey," he says. "Allow me to lead the lords of the realm to swear the secrecy and disposal to the King and Queen." He begins to call on the lords, one by one. They each recite the same series of words to swear their protection and best interest. These will be the men of the council. Once they have all finished, Thindrel turns and speaks in a hushed voice, just loud enough for Aemond and I to hear.

"You two are now married, by law, being King and Queen, but a wedding will still be planned, if it is in your best interests?" He asks. I exchange a look with Aemond. He knows what I'm thinking and I know what he's thinking.

"We will still have a wedding, yes. As soon as possible, preferably." I note. He nods. He slowly descends the stairs. The audience begins to file out of the room, sharing hushed words. Alicent and her group turn to leave. Aegon shoots a look to Aemond and I as he walks through the doors to the throne room. It all happened so fast and ended so quick. I now wear a crown and am now legally married to the man beside me, despite the fact that we have not been wed. The seven kingdoms are at my disposal, now. I could send out any command and no one would be able to ask me why. No one will be able to question me.

Jacaerys is the first to approach me. "Talk about spontaneous, hm?" He raises an eyebrow. I extend my hand and shove his shoulder, but he does not move. His knight training has truly molded him into flesh and muscle with a hint of bone. Rhaenyra and Daemon approach next. I can look neither of them in the eye. I have taken over my mothers biggest desire, which had been my fathers as well. Daemon has always wanted to be a King, and now that King stands before him as my husband and his ruler.

"You will be wonderful, Alerhya." I can't help but look at my mother as she speaks. I can see doubt and spite in her eyes. I don't blame her for it. I have taken, though not given much of a choice, the most important thing of her life.

"Indeed." Daemon agrees. He drawls out his words. I can his eyes and see the same emotion that had been in my mothers; doubt and spite. There was nothing I could do. If I were to decline a position as Queen, a war would have insighted for my mother to have the throne. We very well could have lost and exhausted all of our resources just to get nothing out of it. I pursued the easiest option, becoming a ruler and marrying in the matter of an hour. I would not watch King's Landing burn due to declining the position.

My mother and father then and begin walking down the stairs, heading in the direction of the doors to exit. My father looks over his shoulder and looks both Aemond and I seemingly through our souls. A shudder goes through me. It's the kind of look that makes your blood go cold. It's less of a look and more of a warning. A warning of what may come at my fault.

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