Turn 7: Results II
"I can see you are quite... passionate on this subject, my Queen." Your eyes focused on your feet as you muttered your reply.
"It is simply the truth as I have always been taught," Johanna replied evenly.
"Anyways. Not to change the subject," you said as you desperately tried to change the subject. "Those names you mentioned. Is there any one of the three you're particularly attached to?"
"Honestly? No." Her mood brightened as you returned to the topic of baby names. "Viserys suggested Helaena first, something about hearing it in a dream, but I don't know. Daena and Aelora both sound equally good if you ask me."
"Personally, I like Aelora," you offered. "It's unique, even for Targaryens, and I think it flows well."
You're not even sure where they even got Aelora from in the first place. You'd never heard of a Targaryen with such a name before. Maybe your father saw it in some ancient text, an old name from the Freehold or something. But that was fine. It being an unknown meant there was no bad history or expectations attached to it.
It wasn't Visenya by any means, but few names could come close to that. And you were beyond glad that Johanna wasn't considering Visenya. As much as the thought of having your own children terrified you, you had long ago placed Visenya on your short list of possible names for any daughter you had. You did not want to have to share it.
"It is pretty unique, in a good way," Johanna agreed thoughtfully as she considered. "No offense, but your family has too many Aegons and Rhaenys' in it's tree if you ask me."
"I'm sure my cousin would take issue with that," you said playfully, "but it's a fair point."
There had only been one King Aegon yet, but that was only by cirumstance. King Aenys' eldest son was Aegon the Uncrowned and even the old king's eldest son had been named Aegon though the babe did not survive long. Your family was often not the most original with names.
"Hmm, I think I might have to put Aelora at the top of my list," Johanna declared as she rubbed her belly. "Thank you, princess. I'm sure your sister will appreciate your efforts."
You winced internally at that last bit, but more than anything you were just glad to have steered this conversation into a less horrifically uncomfortable topic.
"I should take my leave." You took the first chance you had to exit this conversation gracefully with both hands. "There is so much I have to do to make ready for my royal progress."
"Of course, of course," Johanna waved you away. "You have very important duties to attend to."
You turned around and began to make your exit, your shoulders relaxing at last. Withstanding the insults, not only to your cousin but indirectly to you and Alicent as well, had been horrible to endure, but at least it was over.
"A word of advice, before you go," Johanna's words halted you in your tracks.
You turned towards her, dreading what would come next.
"When you're in the Vale, be careful," Johanna's voice was sympathic and sincere. "I worry what that cousin of yours will try to do since your father won't be there. Rhea Royce as well. Something about that woman makes me uncomfortable. Women like that can't be trusted, not even around family or Princesses."
Thankfully you were able to hide the spike of rage that flaired as she yet again insulted you cousin, adding one of the few people you could even come close to calling a friend as well to the mix. You wanted to scream and rip her a new one, but you had already decided against that before and at this point saying anything would just prolong this encounter.
"I will keep that in mind, thank you," you said in the most neutral tone you could muster before turning around and finally leaving.
+1 Stress
Relationship with Johanna Westerling Improved
You were a bit worried that Gwayne would refuse your challenge. As much as you've improved as a warrior over the past years, you were painfully aware that you had largely only gained respect for it from your sworn shield and perhaps a few of the other kingsguards. Gwayne had no duty to you, sworn no oaths, made no promises. All you had between you was your oaths to protect Alicent and a general understanding that he was not going to go around talking about her affection for you.
But Ser Tarly was clear that you needed to spar with new people in order to help improve your training. Not that he let up on your regular training to give you any chance to find anyone new to spar with. While the progress would soon give you the chance to spar with many knights across the realm, for now, your options were limited. You doubted there were any left in the Kingsguard who would agree to fight with you. A duel with one of the Red Keep's guards would do little to showcase your own strength and skills, and at the moment King's Landing was rather lacking in knights of any worth. Your father making it clear he never wanted to see another tourney again meant there was often little cause for a knight to come to King's Landing.
Thankfully, Gwayne agreed to duel you on the condition he could observe you train for a week before hand. So, for a week, you had two Hightowers watching you spar. The first day you saw Gwayne's expression visibly tense as you knocked down Ser Tarly. By now you had more muscles than most adult men, but it seemed Ser Gwayne didn't quite appreciate what that meant until you knocked over a seasoned knight with relative ease.
When the day of the duel arrived, you could see Alicent watching. Much closer than she was normally, a nervous expression clearly written across her face. Gwayne was dressed in simple green armor. He insisted the two of you fight in training armor so as not to scuff up his personal arms.
You couldn't help but notice that Gwayne was well kept as he walked onto the training yard. Any hints of a beard were trimmed away, his hair pulled back and well groomed, and the distinct scent of flowers wafted across your nose as he approached. He was a pretty boy, that was for sure. Thankfully his defined, if a tad small, muscles and proper stance made it clear that this man had earned his knighthood. Though you could tell Ser Tarly remained unimpressed.
"I do hope his grace doesn't take issue if you come away bruised," Gwayne said with an easy charm. "I would hate to lose my head over a simple spar."
"My father has grown used to my bruises. You have little to worry about, Ser," you assured him.
"Very good," he smiled.
While Gwayne had a week to study your fighting style, along with your strengthens and weaknesses, he was a complete mystery to you. Perhaps that was why the resulting duel went as long as it did.
To his credit, you could tell Ser Gwayne was taking you seriously from the very beginning, unlike Ser Darklyn had. For the opening part of the fight he did his best to turn your blade away before you could use your strength against him, while also trying to goad you into over extending yourself. It worked a few times, allowing him to get in a few hits in. But as time wore on it quickly became clear that while Gwayne was a good fighter, though not on your level of skill, his tactics against you required a good deal of stamina. Stamina that he did not have.
Soon enough, you knocked the sword out of Gwayne's hand and your own dulled practice sword pointed at him. Out of the corner of your eye you spotted Alicent, frozen halfway between clapping for you and looking dismayed at her brother's defeat.
"You fought well," you said as you lowered your sword and extended your hand.
"You fought better," Gwayne replied as he clasped your hand. "Good show. You certainly live up to what I've heard."
"Glad to hear it. No hard feelings?" You asked cautiously. From your uncle you knew well enough how easily some men's pride could be wounded.
"On the contrary," Gwayne smiled between hard breaths. "I deeply enjoyed that."
"Really?" you raised an eyebrow.
"Been a fair bit since I've fought someone who was both so skilled and fully of energy," he said eagerly. "Fighting you was a
challenge. One I hope I can experience again."
Well, that was interesting. He enjoyed this fight quite a bit it seemed, even with his defeat.
"Anytime," you replied, returning his smile.
Your Relationship with Gwayne Hightower Has Improved. New Status: Friendly
Your Prowess has Improved
Finding a chance to actually talk with the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard proved harder than you expected. The man was almost always on duty and clearly did not wish to be disturbed with idle chatter while doing so. You definitely couldn't talk with him during Small Council meetings and he had a habit of making himself scarce during his few hours off-duty.
One day you were able to get lucky. You caught him changing shifts as he was guarding your father and you walked by just as he turned over duty of watching your father's room to Ser Thorne.
"Ser Westerling, would you mind sparing a moment to talk with me?" You asked as you approached.
"For you princess, of course," the old grizzled man nodded with a warm smile, motioning for you to follow him as you walked.
"It has been too long since we last spoke at length, Ser Harrold," you remarked as the two of you made your way through the Red Keep.
"Agreed," he nodded. "Becoming Lord Commander is the greatest honor I could imagine, but I must admit I do regret what it has taken away from me."
"I share your regrets," you said with a hint of sadness.
Ser Tarly was great, but he was a trainer and teacher more than a protector. Which was fine. Great even. It was what you needed right now, but it wasn't the same as having a protector like Ser Harrold Westerling. He had also known you since you were a little girl. He had been by your side since Syrax was barely big enough to ride. Things between you and Tarly would never been the same as what you once had with the Lord Commander.
"I must commend you on your recent fights with Ser Darklyn and Ser Hightower," Harrold remarked as the two of you passed by a small group of maids.
"Thank you," you nodded. "It means a lot to hear that from you."
The Lord Commander sighed wearily.
"I must confess, princess, that I don't think I will ever be able to fully approve of what you're doing," he remarked "And I think Ser Tarly is being reckless in your training, but you have proven your skills and shown yourself to be to a fine warrior."
You felt both pride and frustration from his words. It had always been a struggle to get anyone in your life to accept your interest in the sword, but you had hoped after all this time you would get more than begrudging acceptance. Still. Even this slight handed compliments filled you with pride.
"I thank you again," you smiled. "I must confess I have long wished to study and practice under your tutelage."
Ser Westerling chuckled at your words. There was no malice or mockery in it, simply a good hearted laugh from an old man.
"I am honored," he replied tactfully, "but I must confess I do not share Ser Raylon's bravery for such things. The man risks his head on a spike every time the two of you duel."
"I think my father is more reasonable than that," you rebutted.
"Your father is very reasonable," he agreed. "But the most reasonable man in the Seven Kingdom can lose his wits when it comes to their children."
"I suppose it would be hard to argue against that," you said casually as the two of you rounded a corner.
"So, I imagine you wish to ask about my cousin, the Queen," Harrold said with a hint of a smirk.
"That obvious am I?" you asked.
Ser Westerling nodded.
"Well," you found yourself caught off guard, "I was hoping to catch up with you as well."
"It pleases me to hear that," the kingsguard nodded.
You sighed in resignation, you didn't like questioning someone like Ser Westerling, someone you considered a friend, for info. But you knew the Queen could be your rival or a friend, though the latter seemed nearly impossible in the long term after your last conversation. Either way, the better you understood her the better.
"I don't know the Queen as well as I should," you said diplomatically, "and I figured since you were cousins, you might have some insight."
"I have not been to the Crag in decades," Ser Westerling explained. "In truth, before she arrived, I probably knew less about my cousin then you did."
You looked down, unable to hide your disappointment.
"But," he went on, "I have spoken a great deal with her father and have seen much of how she interacts with your father and others. She reminds me much of her cats in a way."
"Oh?" you raised an eyebrow. "I hope you do not mean Lancel. That beast took a swipe at me when I first entered the Queen's chambers."
That produced another chuckle from the aging knight.
"It is quite the bold animal from what I've seen," he agreed. "No. I mean more she is usually a relatively calm and easy-going woman most of the time, but if she's provoked or she feels her family is threatened, that woman can be fiercer than any lion in the Westerlands."
You had not seen the Queen angry before. Annoyed? Yes. Full of strange hate for women who held interest she considered obscene? That too. But not angry. You were curious when the Lord Commander had seen her in such a state, yet you couldn't bring yourself to ask.
"The two of you are more alike then you realize," he went on. "She may lack your raw physical ability, but she is plenty strong in her own way."
That left your stomach twisting within as worry bubbled to the surface. You didn't want to be dealing with a strong, fierce queen. A woman like that would fight for a son's claim.
"I do not wish to make an enemy of Queen Johanna," you said softly.
"It pleases me to hear you say that, Princess," he nodded, his expression turning dour. "And I am certain the Queen will be pleased to hear that as well. I believe she shares that sentiment."
"I am glad," you nod, "I hope nothing changes that."
Ser Harrold stopped and looked at you, your intent clear to him.
"The King was quite clear on the matter. Your are first in succession, above any other children he may sire," Harrold explained. "I sworn to uphold his decree. And I will. Just as I will uphold it should he change his mind."
"I am not asking you to choose me over your family," you clarified.
"Good, because I cannot," Harrold said bluntly, "just as I cannot choose to side with my family against you."
"I am sorry I don't understand," you replied, starring at your former sworn shield in confusion.
"You are not the only one who has thought of what may happen if the Queen gives you a half-brother," the knight said with clear grief. "I pray to the Seven that peace will prevail in such a matter and none of my kin are swayed to foolish ideas."
"I am sure they won't be," you replied, barely able to hide your own doubts. "Have they said anything on the matter?"
The knight starred at you, hard this time.
"Do not ask me to betray the Queen's confidence, Princess," he warned.
"I apologize," you said quickly, "I did not mean to put you in such an awkward position."
The older man sighed, shaking his head.
"You need not apologize," he replied. "And do not worry. The Queen does not plot against you."
Well that was comforting, somewhat at least. You were grateful no one was around to hear what you were speaking of.
"I pray that holds true once her child is born," he added. "If not, I pray that I do not outlive your father, lest the gods ask me to choose between my vows to the Kingsguard and my vows as a knight."
The two of you starred at each other for the longest time, unspoken fear and worry clinging to both of you.
"I think we need not worry," you finally broke the silence. "You said yourself that the queen does not wish to be my enemy, and she prays for a girl."
The King had decreed you were heir above all others. No child of Johanna's would change that, even if they were a boy. The Westerlings would surely understand that. They weren't as powerful as the Sea Snake after all and they had no dragons to support their cause.
There would be trouble enough from Daemon when you took the throne. You didn't need another claimant adding to it.
"Well then, let's hope the gods answer her prayers," Ser Harrold replied with an uneasy smile.
Your Relationship with Harrold Westerling Has Improved.
Writing poetry was
hard, you discovered. Writing in general had never been a weak point for you. You could write for most of the day if needs must, and as you discovered, there was a lot you could write about when it came to Alicent. The way she watched you when you trained, those days you spent in the Godswoods with your head on her lap, how her hair seemed to flow in a light breeze, how the two of you used to gossip together every time there was a major event in King's Landing, her deep brown eyes and the way you could just find yourself lost in them when she was talking. Eyes that in the right light could catch your breath in your throat and leave your hear hammering. Eyes that-
If nothing else this whole effort had helped you realize there was a great deal about Alicent that you liked and appreciated. Finding things to write about wasn't the problem. The problem was you couldn't figure out how write about Alicent in a way that sounded more elegant than a foolish little girl babbling about how much she liked another girl. With a blade you were an artist. With a quill you felt like a brutish thug.
You had read as many bits of love poetry as you could find, though, in truth, finding any good examples proved tricky. There were a few books on the subject, but these were written by boring old Maesters and Septons and thus contained some of the most dry and chaste bits of writing you had ever endured, largely about brave and heroic knights pining after some unnamed princess or Queen they knew they could never have. There were some good ones among the dreck but they were a rare sight indeed.
Thankfully, you had become quite familiar with the Red Keep's libraries at this point and knew where to look for things others might wish to keep secret. By chance, you stumbled across a collection of poems hidden within a book on the history of house Darklyn, each poem tucked between different pages. The poems shared no single author and ranged from the works of men even less skilled with their words than you to chaste but well written words signed by various knights, to some of the most disgustingly lustful words you had ever seen put to parchment, written by men who wisely dared not share their name. All of the poems dedicated to Saera Targaryen, one of the Old King's most infamous children.
You assumed this must have been Saera's private collection, forgotten about when she escaped to the east. Your exiled great-aunt clearly loved the attention these poems represented.
Some of the poems were actually quite good and spoke of love and longing in a way you could relate to, could understand and learn from. You practiced off of these poems for a few weeks and eventually you were able to figure out how to put your own feelings of love, loss and longing into words that weren't obvious copies of the examples you learned from. It was still an agonizing experience to actually write them, but by the end you had something that was fairly decent. In your opinion at least, and thankfully you weren't too prone to self doubt.
The problem was that these poems were about you. Your feelings. Your pining. Your desires. Anytime you tried to write directly about Alicent, you found yourself stumbling through your sentences. The poems you had weren't aggressive, they wouldn't scare Alicent off, but they felt
selfish for a lack of a better word. Alicent was your lady, so shouldn't your poems be about her? How her beauty compels you and such?
You could wait, work on your writing some more while you were traveling, and present Alicent with something better a few months from now.
During your readings you did encounter a rare bit of interesting information. A Maester with a name who even ancient Valyria would have found absurd noted that those with experince in music had a better ear for poetry than those without. Perhaps you could wait until you had learned music? It would take a while, but surely Alicent would be impressed by a poem accompanied by the sounds of you playing on the harp?
Then again, maybe Alicent would like a poem about your feelings. After all, she spent so long pining after you from afar, filled with such deep emotions for you it downright tormented her at times. It might do your relationship well if she knew just how deep your feelings ran. You could produce better poems in time, but mayhaps Alicent deserved to know your true, honest feelings sooner rather than later.
Are You Ready to Read Alicent Your First Poems?
[] Yes, serenade her with poems of your love and affection.
[] No, focus on improving your Alicent-focused poems first
[] No, wait until you're skilled enough with some kind of music.
[] Write-in (Subject to QM Approval)
QM's Note: I have no idea why, but the Poetry section unironically gave more trouble writing than anything yet so far in this quest. I felt like beating my head against a brick wall. So, that +1 Stress is kind of a warning of what is going to come. This won't be an every time thing, so don't worry about that. Defiant doesn't just mean extra options in dialogue, it means Rhaenyra is not the type to take being told what she's doing is wrong or improper and just be quiet. Johanna was unintentionally insulting the heck out of both her and Alicent. That's not something that someone like her easily keeps quiet about.
