The Queen is dead and her best friend is angry.
Elowen Redfort, Queen Aemma's Lady-in-waiting and closest confidant is in the room when the queen is murdered. Driven by her grief Elowen finds herself in the King's chambers intending to confron...
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An inky darkness and chill had seeped into the Red Keep, covering every inch of the castle and creeping up Elowen's spine. Sunrise felt hours away, only the dim light of candles lit the room as the men of the Small Council entered the room. The lords grumbled as they found their seats, annoyed at being woken before the sun had risen over King's Landing.
"What is it that could not have waited an hour?" Lord Tyland complained, looking around the table at the other Lords' weary faces. "Was Dorne invaded?"
Elowen opened her mouth to respond, but all that came out was a choked cry. Her hand flew to her mouth, smothering her sobs as she attempted to calm herself.
"The King is dead." Lyonel answered for Elowen, resting a hand on her shoulder in a show of silent support.
The lords bowed their heads in despair, grieving for their sovereign and friend. All except for Lord Jasper Wylde, who looked to the Queen.
"Preparations for Prince Aemond's coronation must begin-"
"Nothing will happen until my husband's funeral," Elowen snapped, glaring at the Master of Laws. Her gaze softened as she looked at the Grand Maester. "Send a raven to Dragonstone, Orwyle. Inform Rhaenyra and Daemon of Viserys's death and the date of his funeral."
"Is that wise, Your Grace?" The Master of Ships questioned, glancing around the table for support. "We should crown Prince Aemond before inviting the former heir to King's Landing."
"Tyland is right, Your Grace. You would be inviting Rhaenyra and Daemon to steal the throne." Lord Jasper attempted to argue.
"Rhaenyra is still his daughter, she deserves the chance to say goodbye." Elowen ended the discussion, pushing herself to her feet. "This matter is finished."
★・・・・・・★
The sun had begun its ascent into the sky by the time Elowen left the Small Council's meeting room. Her feet were quick as she rushed up the stairs, her slippers barely made a sound against the stone as they carried her to her personal rooms .She paused before the door, her hand stilling against the silver handle. As if her body was not her own, her head turned from the door. Hazel eyes landed on another pair of doors. Unlike every other day of her life no Kingsguard stood watch because there was no king inside. Not anymore at least.
Elowen swallowed down the sob that threatened to spill off her lips as she pushed the door open and entered the apartments. As soon as she passed the threshold a warmth filled Elowen's heart as she was faced with her children sat at the large round table in the middle of the room.
Servants bustled around, placing new dishes onto the table and serving the royals. Alyssa was yelling at Daeron across the table, angry with him for taking the last sweet roll. Her hand rested on her slightly bloated stomach, using the child that grew in her womb to argue in her favor. Aegon leaned against his wife, resting his head on her shoulder as his eyes fluttered closed and then shot back open. Viserra sat beside Baela and Rhaenys, both younger girls listening as Rhaenys shared tales of her father. Helaena and Rhaena were quietly conversing, while Aemond placed tarts on their plates. As the second son looked up to reach for a different platter his eye met his mothers, brows furrowed in confusion.
"Mother?" Aemond called, causing the rest of the table to go silent and turn to look at Elowen.
Elowen took a deep breath and moved further into the room, stopping once she stood in the space between her two youngest's chairs. "I'm so sorry, my dears." Her eyes burned as she tried to hold back her tears. "Your father is dead."
Viserra burst into tears, allowing Baela to pull her into a comforting embrace. Aegon quickly excused himself, rushing out of the room with Alyssa following after him. Daeron turned to his youngest sister and Baela, and slowly began to usher the two from the room. Rhaenys stood to her feet, moving to Rhaena and Helaena and attempting to urge them from the chambers.
Rhaena pressed a chaste kiss to Aemond's temple before allowing her grandmother to lead her away. Elowen offered Rhaenys a thankful smile, before moving to the seat closest to Aemond. Her hands reached out, taking Aemond's in her own.
"I'm not ready." Aemond choked out, he struggled to speak while his throat felt like it was closing.
""You will be a good king, do not doubt yourself. Your siblings and I will be by your side just as we always have been, my sweet boy. We are one house, and so long as House Targaryen stands united nothing could stand against." Elowen leaned closer, moving one hand to cup Aemond's cheek. "That is not all," She sighed. "I have invited Rhaenyra and her family to attend your father's funeral."
Aemond's eye flashed. "Why would you do that?"
"She is still of your father's blood, he would want her to have the opportunity. Besides, she will be given the chance to bend the knee and accept you as king." Elowen's thumb stroked over the apple of Aemond's cheek. "Will you accept Jace and Luke if they bend the knee?"
Aemond turned his chin, so an empty space separated Elowen's touch from his skin.
"You do not have to decide now," Elowen whispered, leaning back in her seat to give Aemond space. When she loosened her grip on his hand, Aemond dug his fingers into the back of her hand, unwilling to lose the connection yet. "I will love you no matter your choice."
Aemond nodded, falling back into his mind as he thought over his choices. Elowen relaxed into her seat, sinking into her thoughts. Their grasp on each other felt like the tether keeping each other from drifting away. Both worried for the future, scared of the coming days.
★・・・・・・★
Like she had so many years ago, Elowen stood in a field overlooking the Blackwater Bay prepared to say goodbye to another member of House Targaryen, another member of her family. A gust of wind blew over the bay, sweeping over the green grass and up through the crowd causing strands of brown to dance in the breeze. Caressing her skin and tangling into her hair, Elowen's eyes fluttered shut. She could almost feel the brush of Viserys's fingertips along her jaw, and hear a whisper of his voice.
"Elowen." Her eyes shot open, half expecting Viserys to be standing in front of her. But there was only a pyre holding his body and waiting to be lit.
Ravens had been sent to Dragonstone, alerting the Princess of her father's death and inviting her to return to King's Landing with her family. It had been Elowen's hope that Viserys's death would make Rhaenyra realize the fault of her ways and return to the family. But no response had been heard and no dragons or ships traveled from Dragonstone.
A sudden weight pressed into her upper arm. Helaena leaned into her mother, seeking comfort. Elowen took her daughter's hand in her own, allowing Helaena's fingers to tangle with her own. A small whimper bubbled up from Viserra's lips as she turned further into her mother's side, burying her face into the black skirts of Elowen's dress. Daeron laid a hand on his younger sister's shoulders, wanting nothing more than to make the pain she felt go away.
Elowen glanced to her left. Alyssa stood, pressed into Aegon's side, face buried in his chest. Occasionally, Aegon would press his lips to the top of Alyssa's head, whispering to her. His face was blank, eyes glazed over as he stared at his father's corpse.
Turning to her right stood her second born son, the next Targaryen King. Rhaena stood by his side, silently supporting him in this difficult moment. Aemond turned his head slightly, meeting Elowen's gaze. Elowen took a deep breath and gave a subtle nod.
She turned away as Aemond stepped froward, unable to stomach the sight of the pyre being set alight. Blood rushed in her ears, masking the command Aemond gave to Vhagar and the deep roar the ancient dragon gave. She could feel the way the air warmed as fire was breathed onto the pyre. Tears filled Elowen's eyes and began running down her cheeks.
