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Chapter VI: Ozymandias
🕑 Added 2024-10-22 05:36:44 +0000 UTCThe rain had stopped. Not naturally, but as though the skies had bowed to some invisible force. The air around Dragonstone had become thick and charged, like the sea before a storm, but nothing came. Only silence. The storm clouds hovered like specters above the castle, hesitant, unsure whether to continue their rage or fall silent forever.
Corlys Velaryon stood on the ramparts of Dragonstone, his eyes fixed on the distant horizon, where moments ago, a violent light had torn through the skies—a light so unnatural, so charged with amethyst hues, it had felt as though the very heavens were being bent by something more. He had seen the sky shift, the rain reverse, and then… nothing. Silence, save for the roaring waves below.
Something had happened.
Something beyond human comprehension.
Monterys. His nephew.
Corlys gripped the stone battlements tightly, his knuckles white from the strain. The Sea Snake had seen many things in his years—wonders across the world, riches, dragons, war—but never anything like what he had just witnessed. Power, raw and untamed, enough to quiet the fiercest storm and hurl a meteor from the sky. He had watched Monterys soar into the storm, and though no words had been exchanged between them, he had known. Monterys had done something—something that shook even the elements of nature to their core.
And now, as the storm began to dissipate, the reality of it settled into Corlys’s chest. His mind raced with questions. Monterys had never shown interest in power. The man—or boy, really—had always seemed so detached, so indifferent to the squabbles of kings and queens. Even as a scion of House Velaryon, even when raised in the seat of Driftmark’s power, Monterys had remained aloof, content to let the world pass him by.
But now, everything had changed.
Corlys turned, looking down at the courtyard below, where the Velaryon and Targaryen banners fluttered in the cool evening breeze. The guards moved about with an anxious energy, no doubt feeling the weight of the unnatural storm that had passed, of the amethyst glow that had shone from his nephew, or of how the Earth had shook moments ago as if it had been forcefully pried open. But they didn’t know what Corlys suspected. They didn’t understand at least the magnitude of what had just happened and what it could, no, did meant.
Monterys has the power to shape the world.
The realization hit Corlys like a crashing wave. He had always known Monterys was different—he could see it in the way the boy carried himself, in the way he spoke with disinterest about the matters that consumed others. But never had Corlys imagined this. The ability to halt storms, to bend gravity, to hurl a meteor from the sky? It was more than Valyrian magic. It was more than even the dragons.
And if Monterys could do that—if he could wield such godlike power—what else could he do?
Corlys’s thoughts turned to the Iron Throne. For years, he had fought for his family’s place in the world. He had married Rhaenys, the Queen Who Never Was, hoping to secure the throne for her. When that had failed, he had thrown his lot in with Rhaenyra, believing that House Velaryon would rise alongside her claim and in return, he received dishonor after dishonor and the death of his children and his brother. But now? Now, something else was possible. Something much more palatable
What if Monterys didn’t need Rhaenyra? What if the Velaryons didn't need Rhaenyra and her bastards to seize the throne?
What if House Velaryon didn’t need the Targaryens at all?
The Iron Throne had always been a distant dream for Corlys, something that lay just beyond his grasp. But with Monterys... with Monterys, they didn’t need dragons or alliances. Monterys could take the throne by force if he desired. He had surely the power to crush any opposition, to reshape Westeros in whatever image he wanted. Monterys could be the conqueror reborn but better.
‘What does he want?’ Corlys wondered, his chest tightening with both hope and fear. ‘What does Monterys want with such power?’
He had always respected Monterys's detachment—his refusal to be drawn into the games of power that consumed so many men. He had respected it because more than being a photocopy of Corlys’ dead father and the youngest of the children his youngest brother had left behind, he had known that Monterys would never involve himself in hare brained scheme simply because he was too lazy for that. Maybe, this was also why he was as close as he was with his nephew because he had been sure that Monterys as long as he had his comfort would never think about betraying him, something he knew the remnants of his family he knew would rightfully not hesitate doing so.
But now, after realizing what Monterys could do, could have possibly done all this time, Corlys found now that detachment very terrifying. Power no matter how saintly the person who used it seemed warped people, changed them. The Targaryens saw themselves and ensured they were seen as gods because of their dragons but Monterys didn't have power because of a tool, because of a dragon, something not intrinsically him. Monterys’ power was inherent.
Now that he knew that Monterys had magic, it changed things. He had thought before that Monterys not caring could be a good thing. Now he wasn’t so sure. If Monterys cared about nothing, then it means he could do anything. It mean that he had no possibly limits, no ambitions to temper his actions. It made him possibly unpredictable, and that made him dangerous.
The thought of it sent a chill down Corlys’s spine. A Velaryon with the power to bend the world to his will. A man who could stop the rain with a thought and probably overpower a dragon with a mere glance. That was not just power—it was dominion.
On the other side, it seemed that he had been successful in making Monterys care about Lucerys. Parts of him welcomed and hated the idea. It had been a good thing before but now meowing what his nephew was capable of, would Monterys support the Targaryens instead of helping his house to rise even more due to Corlys’ ignorant decision? Would Monterys be more Loyal to Rhaenyra and Lucerys than him? He truly hope not.
Corlys closed his eyes for a moment, steadying himself. He had to be careful. Monterys was his nephew, his family. But more than that, Monterys was the future. And Corlys would have to decide what that future looked like. Would Monterys stand with Rhaenyra? Would he support her claim, or would he carve his own path? And if Monterys chose to forge a new destiny for House Velaryon, what would that mean for Corlys himself?
He didn’t have all the answers, but one thing was certain. Maybe in the end of all of this, it wouldn’t be a red dragon flag standing at the highest. He was sure of one thing, the realm would never be the same again.
As Corlys stood there, staring out at the sea, the first whispers of ambition began to stir in his chest. Monterys could be more than a weapon—he could be the key to everything. House Velaryon could be more than just a strong naval power; it could become the most powerful house in Westeros.
But first, Corlys would have to speak with Monterys. He would have to understand what his nephew wanted, and he would have to tread carefully. Monterys may not care about the throne, but Corlys knew the allure of power. And with the right guidance, with the right nudge, perhaps Monterys could be convinced to see the benefits of claiming that power for himself—and for House Velaryon.
The wind picked up again, rustling the banners above him, and Corlys felt the weight of his decision settling in. The time for cautious alliances was over. The time for boldness had come.
And Monterys, whether he realized it or not, held the future of the realm in his hands, the possibility for Corlys to truly realize all of his ambitions.
*scene*
Flying back to Dragonstone felt different this time. Everything did. The storm had broken apart, the winds were quieter, and the world seemed to breathe again. Or maybe it was just me. For so long, I had been...unbothered. I moved through this world without being moved by it. Nothing had really mattered.
Now? Now, I had dropped a meteor on Vhagar. That was something that could not be taken back. Still, Just thinking about it made me laugh quietly to myself.
I wish I could have seen the face of Vhagar and her one eyed rider as the meteor fell, well at least if they had been able to survive my first strike. I'm sure that they Meemaw Vhagar must have been flabbergasted.
Next to me, Lucerys flew on Arrax, his young face still pale, though there was something like relief in his eyes. His dragon was shaken, wings still trembling slightly after the chaos we had just torn through. I couldn’t blame him. The kid had almost died. I had saved him.
I glanced over at Lucerys. His gaze hadn’t left me since we left the Stormlands, and it was almost funny. His wide-eyed expression was a mix of awe and disbelief, like I’d suddenly grown a second head. Or wings. Either way, the kid was shook Which was understandable.
“Monterys…” Lucerys’s voice finally broke through the silence of the skies. He flew closer, his face still ghostly white from the near-death experience. “What was that? How did you... how did you do that?”
I shrugged mid-flight, giving him a lazy smile. “I did. Just something I can do.”
His jaw nearly dropped. “Something you can do? You dropped a star on Vhagar!”
Well It was a meteor but for someone living in the equivalent of the Middle Ages, I guess there weren’t any differences.
Didn’t the Dayne call their ancestral seat Starfall when in fact, it was probably a meteor that had fallen there a long time ago.
Still, I couldn’t help but chuckle at his disbelief, though the gravity of what I’d done wasn’t lost on me. This day would probably be the last one I would be able to have some tranquillity. I wonder what would happen. Would they call me a sorcerer and try to punish me/kill me/ hurt me or something? Would they try to use me for their agendas? Would they realize that I probably could deal with all of them if I wished and that they probably do the equivalent of not poking the dragon? Of course not, it was Westeros.
“Yeah, I guess I did.”
Lucerys was quiet for a moment, clearly struggling to process the sheer absurdity of the situation. Finally, he blurted, “Are you… a god?”
The question hung in the air for a moment, and I mused about how to answer me. I wasn’t a god in the sense that I was immortal and all of that. I had tested it. I bled just like any man. It didn't mean though that I probably couldn’t duck out with true gods and win if it came to it. I mean, if I wanted, I could right now halt or even reverse the rotation of this planet. I would be surprised if any god of Planetos would be able to do such.
“No, Luke. I’m not a god,” I told him even if I could probably change it. It wouldn’t be easy though but in a world where blood and sacrifice allowed you and seemed to be the root of magic, flattening an entire kingdom like Dorne and use their death should be enough not that I would do so to the Dornish…probably.
His eyes narrowed, his disbelief still plain. “But you stopped the storm… you dropped a star...”
“Something I can do,” I repeated, my tone nonchalant, as if it were no big deal. And to me, it wasn’t. It was just a thing I could do. Power was power. It wasn’t that interesting.
Lucerys stared at me, the awe still lingering. “How long?” he pressed, his voice almost desperate. “How long have you been able to do this?”
I looked ahead at the horizon, the dark waters of the Narrow Sea stretching endlessly below us. “Since the beginning,” I said, my voice flat. “Since the day I came into this world.” It wasn’t a lie per say. I had after all that power since reincarnating in this world.
Lucerys blinked, the realization hitting him all at once. “You’ve *always* had this power? You could have done this *all along* and you just… didn’t?”
“Pretty much,” I replied, shrugging. “Didn’t see the point. Most things I just… didn't see as mattering enough.”
He didn’t respond right away, the wind carrying the silence between us as we flew. I could almost see the gears turning in his head, trying to wrap his mind around everything I had just told him. He was a kid of this world—a world where power was everything. Kings, queens, armies, dragons… power ruled over all.
My words probably sounded completely alien to him but to me? Power was just… there. It wasn’t fun or exciting. It wasn’t something I ever wanted to wield. More than that, just thinking about all the things the nobles in this world did just to have a silver of it was something I found exhausting. I just wanted to make around In all the comforts of the world without having to do anything like was it too much to ask? I wanted both the butter and the money of it.
Lucerys finally spoke again, his voice quieter now, almost lost in the wind. “I thought I was going to die.”
I glanced over at him, noticing the way his shoulders slumped slightly, the weight of everything catching up to him. The kid had been through hell tonight, and I had pulled him out at the last second. Something in me had… shifted for both and worse due to him when I thought I was a completely uncaring bastard. I had felt that small twinge of care for him and for that, I had saved him. It was kinda sad and a shame that it was for a bastard and not my true blood, my uncle, for Vaemond that I hadn’t intervened. i didn't know if it made it more fucked up or not but I still didn't find care in my heart for my uncle. I truly had become a bad person didn't I?
“You didn’t die,” I said simply, trying to make my voice softer than before, trying to talk like I once did in a past life.
“That’s all that matters.”
Lucerys looked at me. His face was a mix of exhaustion, relief, and awe. “You said you had always had those powers and yet never showed them before. Things will be different for you now. Why did you do it, Monterys? Why did you save me? I thought I annoyed you more than anything, that the only reason why you talked to me was because of grandfather and Mother’s orders.
It was a fair question. One I didn’t have an easy answer for. I had spent years in this world doing nothing—*not caring*. But when I saw him flying into certain death, something had stirred in me. Maybe it was because Lucerys reminded me of family I had left behind in my old life. Or maybe it was because he was a good kid. He didn’t deserve to die, especially not like that.
“I don’t know,” I said honestly, glancing away from him. “Maybe I got tired of watching from the sidelines.”
Lucerys stared at me for a long moment, processing my words. He looked as if he wanted to hug me and I truly hope he didn't try to so. Even if I could, it didn't mean that I had wanted to use my ability on him because je slipped and tried to hug me in the fucking sky. Fortunately, it's not what happened. No, instead, a small smile slowly began to tug at the corners of his lips.
“Thank you, Monterys.”
I just nodded, the weight of his gratitude settling in the air between us. It felt strange, really. I had always been content to let the world pass me by, to watch from a distance and do nothing. But now? Now, everything had changed. Dropping a meteor on Vhagar wasn’t something you could just take back. The entire realm would know soon enough. Rhaenyra, Corlys, the hightowers—everyone would know what I had done.
But for now, I kept flying, with Lucerys by my side, safe for another day.
Lucerys’s voice broke through my thoughts once again. “Everything’s different now, isn’t it?”
I glanced at him. “Yeah,” I said softly, my voice drifting with the wind. “Everything’s changed.”
Lucerys looked up at me, his eyes wide with a mixture of awe and concern. “Do you think… do you think this war can still be stopped?”
I didn’t answer right away. The question hung between us, heavy with the weight of everything that was coming. What Aemond almost did to Lucerys would be reason enough. In canon, his death had been the lit match. I guess that the fact that had surely killed both Aemond and Vhagar with my ability kinda served as the match that would make The Dance of the Dragon start but even without it, it surely would have happened. All the conditions were met the moment Rhaenyra and Aegon claimed their crowns. There was no stopping it now.
“War’s like a storm, Luke,” I said after a pause trying to sound more philosophical and wise than I actually did.
“Once it starts, it has its own momentum. You can guide it, try to weather it, but stopping it? That’s not how it works.”
Lucerys frowned, troubled by my words. He reminded me of my cousin, the one I had in my last life, who had felt more like a sibling than anything else, someone I had loved with all my heart and had I admit more than spoiled. I wonder if they cried when I died. I hope they didn't. I chose to turn away from Lucerys.
“But you could stop it, couldn’t you?” Lucerys asked, his voice filled with hope. “With what you can do, you could stop the war. You could end it before it even starts. You could destroy Aegon, take the throne for my mother, and make everything right.”
I shook my head, my gaze drifting out toward the distant horizon. “That’s not how it works, Lucerys. Even if I could stop the war, why should I? You're kinda likeable but I am not a tool, not a weapon to be wielded. I didn't originally want to do anything. The only reason why I used my ability was because I found that I cared much more than I thought.”
He didn’t understand. How could he? Lucerys was still thinking in terms of kings and queens, of victories and losses.
The futility of all of this made me think of a quote: My name is Ozymandias, King of Kings; Look on my Works, ye Mighty, and despair! In the end, the only thing visible had been sand and ruins. They were all battling for a throne they would without a doubt lose in the future.
It may not be in this dance, in this era or maybe in a century but the books had shown things clearly, the greatest threat to the Targaryens was always others of their blood.
Lucerys looked at me again, his eyes searching mine as if asking for something—an answer, a reason, a way to make sense of things, some guidance or maybe I was seeing things that weren’t there
“What are you going to do now?” he asked quietly.
It is said in Westeros that Bastards mature faster. Maybe they were right. I looked at him, this boy who had grown up too fast, already burdened with the weight of his family’s legacy. The fear of failure was etched in every line of his face, and he was asking me for answers, for some way to ease that burden.
“I’ll do what needs to be done,” I said, my voice soft but firm. “And right now, that means bringing you back home safe.”
Lucerys stared at me for a long moment, then slowly nodded. “Thank you, Monterys. For everything.”
I gave him a small, tired smile. I truly hoped it was the end of it. I honestly just wished to be back in my bed in Driftmark.
“You’re family, Luke. That’s what we do.”
As we neared Dragonstone, the distant towers of the castle looming closer, I felt the weight on my shoulders of what was coming. Rhaenyra would have questions. Corlys would have more questions. The realm would soon know what I had done, and I wouldn’t be able to hide in the shadows any longer.
I had stepped into the storm now.
There was no going back.
*scene*
The storm had passed, but the dread in Rhaenyra’s chest had not. She stood at the edge of Dragonstone’s great hall, her arms wrapped around herself as she gazed out at the sea, the waters still roiling in the aftermath of the tempest. The air was thick with tension, though no one dared speak of it.
Something had happened.
Rhaenyra’s heart had pounded in her chest ever since the storm had abated, the unnatural stillness of the skies filling her with a sense of foreboding. She had felt it, the shift in the air, the way the rain had stopped, suspended for just a moment as if the world itself had held its breath.
And then the light—the eerie, unnatural light that had split the sky in shades of purple and amethyst, like a wound in the heavens.
She had seen it, just as everyone on Dragonstone had. And she knew, with a cold, sinking certainty, that this was no ordinary thing. This was something more. Something dangerous. Something powerful beyond her control and such thing was the last thing she needed now.
"Your Grace," Ser Erryk Cargyll's voice broke through her thoughts, his tone hesitant, cautious. He stood a few feet away, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword as though prepared for whatever news he might bring.
"Yes?" Rhaenyra turned, her gaze sharp.
"We’ve received word," Erryk said carefully. "Lucerys has returned."
Rhaenyra’s breath caught in her throat. Relief washed over her, but it was quickly replaced by a cold sense of dread. Lucerys was alive. He had returned. But she knew without a doubt that it wouldn’t be alone, that it would be with Monterys.
The storm, the light—Monterys. It all pointed to something far greater. She has always thought of Monterys as withdrawn and of no consequences. Sure, he was it was whispered the Velaryon the more close to Corlys but rumours also said that he was the photocopy of Corlys’ father so she had paid more attention to him.
She hadn’t even thought that Corlys could possibly be scheming to put Monterys on the Driftwood throne. A part of her wondered if she hadn’t been foolish to do so.
What if Corlys had known all along? What if Monterys had been a hidden ace, a hidden weapon the sea snake kept to use against her in the future?
She knew that while he may be cordial with her, he hated her. He hated the fact that Rhaenyra’s children weren’t Velaryons by blood as if she hadn’t tried with Laenor, as if it had been very fault and not the fault of Laenor.
She had tried to accommodate him but it was nought. It came to a point where there were rumours that her womb was barren. She had felt at that time despair, anger. It's as that moment that sweet Harwin had been there for her.
He stayed with her, comforted her and loved her. She loved him too. Still, she didn't do anything with him no matter how much her body had craved for him before giving Laneor an ultimatum, either he would do his duties or she would do what was necessary.
Laenor had told that he didn't like it, that he had felt disgusted, uncomfortable as if those things had place before primordial things. Laenor didn't do what she begged him to so Harwin gave her, gave them children that Laenor and her loved.
She may have had her problems with Laenor but she hadn’t been the reason for his death like she knew Corlys thought. Maybe she should have taken longer to remarry but it didn’t change that none of the things they were accused was of her fault.
She knew Corlys wouldn’t want to understand that, so she vied to bind him to her cause by promising Jacaerys and Lucertys to Bhaela and Rhaena.
She had thought that it was enough. Now she wasn’t so sure. She hoped it would. She hoped Corlys wouldn’t use his nephew against them because no matter how much she hated the idea, she was logical enough to know that the amethyst magic people said had come from Monterys, that she had seen stopped the rain, that it was whispered had made a star fall wasn’t something the dragons of her house could win against.
"And Monterys?" she asked, her voice tight.
Erryk nodded. "He is with Lucerys."
Rhaenyra exhaled slowly, her fingers tightening around the edge of the stone windowsill. Monterys. The nephew who had always seemed so indifferent, so detached from the world around him. She had never quite understood him—his aloofness, his disinteres. She wished she understood him more.
Rhaenyra’s mind was still racing with the possible implications. What did it mean? What could it mean? Monterys had shown power enough to halt the storm, power enough to leap in the sky it was said, Power enough to make kings.
The thought sent a chill down her spine. Monterys had always been an enigma, a puzzle she had never quite been able to solve. But now, as the pieces began to fall into place, Rhaenyra felt a growing sense of dread. Monterys was not just a distant relative, not just another Velaryon scion. He was something *more*—something she couldn’t control.
Her eyes narrowed as she stared out at the sea, the distant horizon still lit by the remnants of the strange storm. Monterys had the power to change everything. He could stop wars, or start them. He could destroy armies or protect them. He could take the throne if he wanted to.
And that terrified her.
Rhaenyra had fought her entire life for the Iron Throne. She had sacrificed everything—her family, her children, her happiness—for the chance to rule. But now, in the wake of Monterys’s display of power, she felt that throne slipping from her grasp. What use was a claim to the throne when someone like Monterys existed? He didn’t need alliances, didn’t need dragons. He had power enough to bend the very world to his will.
Rhaenyra clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms. She had spent too long, fought too hard, to see her claim fall apart now. Monterys was a threat—not just to Aegon, but to her. If he chose to, he could take the Iron Throne for himself. And what would stop him? What could stop him?
*I will not be replaced,* she thought fiercely, her heart pounding in her chest. *I will not be usurped.*
She had to speak with him, had to understand what Monterys wanted. If he stood with her, if he supported her claim, then perhaps there was hope. But if not... if Monterys had his own ambitions, his own plans...
Rhaenyra’s jaw tightened as she made her way toward the courtyard, her mind racing with the possibilities. She couldn’t let her fear show, couldn’t let Monterys see how much power he truly wielded. She had to keep him close, had to use him if she could. If he supported her, then maybe—just maybe—she could still secure the Iron Throne. But if he didn’t… if Monterys saw no use in the Targaryen bloodline or Rhaenyra’s claim, then the entire realm would be at his mercy.
Rhaenyra moved with purpose down the stone corridors of Dragonstone, her thoughts spinning. As she neared the courtyard, the heavy doors were pushed open, and the brisk sea air hit her like a wave. She saw Lucerys first, standing by Arrax, his face pale but alive. Relief washed over her, but it was quickly tempered by the sight of Monterys beside him.
Lucerys and Monterys were surrounded by most of her guards and knights and her uncle-husband Daemon and his daughters. Their attention was directed, focused on Monterys looking at him as if he was a dangerous snake that would lounge at them at any moment. A part of her felt the same thing.
There he stood, as calm and collected as ever, as though he hadn’t just torn apart the heavens and brought down a star like most suspected Monterys looked completely unbothered, like an old Valyrian God. the amethyst glow that had once surrounded him gone now, leaving only the cool, distant gaze she had come to associate with him.
But something had changed. Rhaenyra could see it in his eyes, in the way he carried himself. Monterys wasn’t the aloof, indifferent nephew she had always known. Maybe it was because of the display of his power, maybe it was because of how different his eyes seemed to be now, more alive she would say, more alert. She was Queen yet before him, she felt as she was that had to kneel.
A part of her wanted to ask him to explain himself know, to make swear oaths, to ensure his loyalty to her in any manner and if not possible try to make him go the further away from her children and her.
Still, she decided to focus first on the most important thing at the moment which was her pale looking son
“Lucerys,” Rhaenyra called, her voice tight with emotion as she strode across the courtyard, pulling her son into a tight embrace. “Thank the gods you’re safe.”
Lucerys hugged her back, his small frame trembling slightly in her arms. “I’m sorry, mother. I failed as your envoy. I—I didn’t know what else to do.”
“You did what you could,” she whispered, holding him close for a moment longer before pulling back. Her eyes flickered to Monterys, who stood a few paces away, watching them with that same unreadable expression.
Rhaenyra straightened, her gaze locking onto Monterys. “You saved him,” she said, trying to keep her voice carefully neutral. “You saved my son.”
Monterys shrugged, his eyes drifting away as if it were nothing. “He’s family.”
Rhaenyra’s jaw tightened at the casual response. Family. The word held so much weight, but coming from Monterys, it felt… light. She should felt joy but coming from his mouth though, it felt as if saving Lucerys had been a matter of convenience, not a choice made out of loyalty or love.
She took a step closer, her eyes narrowing slightly. “What you did, Monterys… it wasn’t just saving Lucerys. You stopped the storm. You brought down Vhagar. That kind of power…” Rhaenyra hesitated, searching his face for any sign of ambition, any hint of what he might want. “It’s enough to make you king.”
This was the most important thing, thing that couldn’t wait after that she had checked the wellbeing of her beloved son. Around her, her soldiers and the people loyal to her seemed as wary and scared as she felt inside.
Monterys met her gaze, his face as impassive as ever. “I’m not interested in being king, Rhaenyra.” No one corrected him for not calling her queen, for not addressing her as someone of a higher station, no one dared. He was talking to her as if he was her equal or worse her better. Indignation flared inside of her but she reminded herself that now wasn’t the time.
The statement was so blunt, so direct, that Rhaenyra almost didn’t know how to respond. Her heart pounded in her chest as she studied him, trying to find the truth in his words. He could be king. With a fraction of the power he had displayed, Monterys could take the Iron Throne for himself, and there would be no one left to stop him.
But he didn’t want it he had said. She knew oahs, words, promises could change, could be broken. This was what was after all happening with her brother Aegon and the Hightowers and their allies.
Rhaenyra let out a slow breath, her mind racing. She didn't believe him but even If Monterys didn’t want the throne, even if his words were the truth, it didn't change that she was sure that he wanted something. All, women, men, lowborns, highborns, whatever Monterys was, all living things wanted something which made her wonder, then what did he want? She was thankful that he had saved her sin but why show his power now, after all these years of indifference? Why act at all, if not to stake some kind of claim?
“What do you want, then?” she asked, her voice quieter now, more cautious.
Monterys glanced at Lucerys, who was watching the exchange with wide eyes before turning back to look at her in the eyes. “I wanted to keep Lazing around until my death,” he said simply. “I thought that by doing nothing, this perfect life would come at me. I your son, my uncle Vaemond,” There was something in his words that made her take a step back at the name of the deceased Velayron “they made me realize that the only thing I'll have if I don’t act is regrets and regrets make eat easier to nap and sleep at night. That’s all.”
A smile bloomed on the face of the Velaryon, a charming one it could even be said, one that made to her shame her heart bat even faster, and not in a bad way which was bad. Why did her heart choose to be treacherous?
“Monterys!” she heard a voice shout behind her. Her gaze caught the approaching form of the sea snake.
The boy sighed at the sigh of his uncle but his smile became softer “Also, you don’t have to worry about Vhagar.”
The Velaryon began to walk toward her. The members of her house hold put themselves before her. She ignored them. Her mind only focused on things he had said.
Her Uncle-husband was the one to ask the question she was thinking about. “What do you mean by that?”
“Simple,” The Velaryon answered before amethyst bloomed to life again and everything for an instant became light. When he spoke again, he spoke like a god.
“I made her fall.”
Rhaenyra Targaryen knew at that moment, that no matter what, she had to ensure that Monterys Velayryon would be on her side.
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allen 1996
Thanks for reading
Rachel N
MUAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA THANK YOU FOR THE INCREDIBLE CHAPTER!!! ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
allen 1996
You know what, your comment’s making me want to write another chapter now and post in the next 4 hours here
allen 1996
I'm glad you think so. Enjoy
Nisiris
Yeeeeeeessssss! Read the first five yesterday and thought how long will wait for new one! This is gift from heavens!
