Chapter 3.2- The Seadragon's Roar

“You would have us rebel. Have us become traitors not just to who we are but to everything we stand for. Have me betray, and definitely even slay my own kin. Kingslayer, Kinslayer, usurper, those words they would call us across the realm” She parried his attempt to push with grace that I would not hesitate to call Queenly, and I knew Corlys could see it.

“They are the betrayers and usurpers. The throne is yours by law and by right. All you would be doing is pressing your right with swords at your back.”

“We swore an oath, Corlys”

“An oath taken at the point of a sword is no oath indeed. Baratheon is more than willing to march twenty thousand storm knights to your cause”

“You’ve mentioned this fool idea to him?” She sounded aghast. It was almost like she did not know the man she married. Corlys Velaryon did not take no for an answer.

“Mentioned? Pah. It was his idea after all. All the realm must be thinking it now. Let us strike now. Send letters to the realm. See who rises in our favour, and then strike at King’s Landing. Caraxes and a hatchling Syrax will be no match for Meleys, Igneel, and now Vhagar. We have aerial supremacy, naval supremacy, and the superior lawful claim” He said.

“A claim that Laenor eloquently brought before every lord of the realm and saw voted down? That is the claim you want me to turn my cloak and slay my kin over?”

“You were born to be Queen, Rhaenys. My love, just look at you. You deserve that throne far more than that weak willed, softspined, spawn of Baelon.”

“And yet the gods have not deemed it fit to bless me with the throne”

“The gods have put it within your grasp, my love. All you have to do is reach out and take it”

“You make it sound so simple” She said.

“It is. My love, it is.” Corlys said, and I watched her begin to fold. Oh fuck. I had no idea how I’d escape this foolishness if the both of them somehow agreed on it. The precedent it would set alone. There would be a Dance every few decades when one side decides they have the dragons and the will. Rhaenys then looked over in our direction and her face hardened.

“Vhagar is ridden by my daughter not even one and ten. Igneel is ridden by my son yet to see his tenth nameday. These are the beasts and riders you intend to unleash on a battlefield? No. I will not hear it, Corlys. Not now, not ever. We will attend the coronation. We will bend the knee and when the time comes, we will arm twist Viserys into merging the claims. He will have a son sooner or later, and Laena would make a divine queen. His present daughter, Rhaenyra is of an age with Laenor— there is a match there.”

“Are royal weddings— even two of them— worth a throne? Worth giving up on your birthright? And who is to say he will agree?”

“They are the best we can hope for. Our blood will rule the seven kingdoms in time. We will have a Princess for the Lady of Driftmark. And as for Viserys, surely you do not think you are the only one who remembers half the realm voting in our support. He will seek to wed the clams if he has any sense.”