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The Dance of the Dragons

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GREETINGS READERS!! Welcome to a brand new ASOIAF fanfic and it’s a drag back in time to the Dance of Dragons. Take a seat, grab your spectacles, and read away… Hope you enjoy and comment and tell me what you think. X


“King Viserys grows weaker by the hour your Grace. Servants say he won’t even sit on the Iron Throne. Perhaps it’s best we send ravens to Dragonstone, prepare Princess Rhaenyra for what is to come.”

Maester Orwyle seemed to enjoy bothering Alicent, she thought. Dusk had come and she was brought with coronation preparations for her dear stepdaughter. “As long as your King lives and breaths, he is our King. I assure your Grand Maester, only grief will be brought to Rhaenyra arriving with her court.

Alicent would jump from the cliffs of the Red Keep if she would invite them by choice. Rhaenyra’s Strong bastards alone would disrupt the castle with blood and chaos. The only proof she needed was a look at her son Aemond and his broken face.

“Yes, but an heir is an heir. It would be best if we-“ She shushed the old man into silence. The rise of her lips soothed his troubles, but truly she just wanted to end the discussion of her husband’s choice of successor.

All would be simple if “The Realm’s Delight” was just swept away with the tides. Through the years of Targaryen reign, a son came before a daughter. Alicent looked back at Aemma Arryn, weak and useless only to bring the stress of a daughter into the world.

She looked at herself, Viserys’ Queen, and her duties done as wife, her sons were born. Still, all she can do is watch her son’s birth rights be ripped away to a daughter and three of her bastards.

“My husband needs his rest, as do the rest of us. Another time when the King’s is ready. If we are done here, seven blessing Grand Maester.” Oh the joys of being a noble woman, she thought. Having to say all the perfect words, instead of how she truly felt.




Silver, for once Alicent had the looks of a Targaryen but in the wrong ways. When she loosened the tight braid wrapped around her scalp, more grey fell back to her shoulders. She hated looking at them, but she began to see more grey than brown.

When she looked at her reflection, she saw an old woman losing all she had built. She once remembered a girl who’s unblemished skin and warm smile could swoon over any man. Now she saw her face begin to sag, her eyes wrinkled in it’s corners, and hands wrinkled and veins popping out around her emerald rings.

Alicent almost jumped when she heard the tiny knock to enter her room. Quickly she pulled her hair back and pulled open the large door handles to greet them.

When she turned back, of course she saw two sets of feet come tumbling across the room. A chubby set of legs waddled across the room joining them. Behind them, Helaena followed them in with a smile across her plump face.

Of all her children, her daughter’s sweetness was almost pure. Alicent had no idea where she had gotten it from. With Helaena, it was brought down to her children as well. She could see it made in their faces.

“They’ve come to say goodnight to their grandmother.” Helaena greeted her. When they ran to meet her, Alicent stretched her arms to catch them. She caught ahold of Jaehaerys first and held his hands tightly.

“I see most of my lovely family has come, but what of my son? Where is Aegon?” She knew the answer already before Helaena spoke. She lifted Maelor up from the carpets letting him on her lap. He played with Alicent’s rings twisting them as she waited for her daughter’s answer.

“Somewhere. He comes when forced to, we don’t need him now.” Helaena spoke calmly, distracting herself with her children. Her daughter has come to be a dutiful wife, Alicent thought.

Alicent twirled through Jaehaera’s long hair as her granddaughter sat silent, no smiles or giggles like her siblings. She wondered, but never spoke aloud of the simpleton signs she carried.

“We came to see father as well, See Criston stopped us at the door. He spoke of the Maesters coming to help him sleep. I suppose ships from Dragonstone will be arriving soon?” Her daughter was almost as clever as herself, Alicent thought. Clever she was, but the world only needed one of them.

She clasped the hands of her daughter, smiling at the thought. Her lips dropped down to a persistent look ushering them away. “The children are tired. You’ve spent well enough time, we all need our rest.”

Helaena sighed putting Maelor on her hip as she tugged the twins’ hands as they shut her door. She sighed pressing her fingers to her temple.

She laid back against the leathers of her chair, Alicent closed her eyes to stop her head from pounding. For just a moment, she forgot about them all.
Just a moment, she was free.




Alicent heart jumped from her chest when she heard the pounds against her door. Her neck was stiffened when she rose from her chair. Her eyes cringed seeing the sun rise through her balcony.

Barely dawn, she thought. She heard the metal clink against each other from behind her door. The loud pounding, the only thing she wondered was why the Kingsguard had awoken her for.

Quickly she grabbed hold of her lime robe tying it tightly. against her night gown when she greeted the men. When she opened her door, Her Criston Cole stood waiting for her.

“Forgive me your Grace, but this Servant brings news you must here.” She sighed being awoken for this. The bells hadn’t been touch and she already knew what they spoke of before they even finished.

Someone has died.



The scent had begun to seep into the room. They all expected her to weep and fall to the ground in morning. She had no need for that, what she needed was for time to stop.

Alicent looked down to the body of what was her husband, old and dead. His plump chest had sunk and what used to be pink skin had sagged to a cold grey. He looked peaceful and untouched, but his years til now were nothing than gasps, hacks, and aching joints.

The servant explained, sweating and stuttering how he had found him like that. They all spoke of a peaceful death while Alicent just stood silent. She just wanted to get out of the rotting stench of her husband’s room.

“We must ring the bells. Send ravens to Dragonstone, we must send word of this to Princess Rhaenyra.” Alicent raised her hand to hush them. She felt the thought in her mind race so fast, the thoughts in her mind planning so far ahead to all came out.

“Ser Criston, take him to the Black Cells. Not a word of this leaves the room.” Soon enough her words became orders. She marched out of the room quickly, only hearing the pleads of the servant as he was dragged out.

She felt like running, her heart thumped so fast it might stop. Her father had rushed across the hall to meet her, but she found him. “Father, call a meeting of the Small Council. No one enters or leaves the Keep, I want no bells rung, no ravens sent. I don’t even want anyone touching a bloody ink or parchment.”

He nodded back following her and unable to understand. “Of course, but what must I say the meaning of this meeting?”

She stopped, turning back to her father. Alicent felt her mouth turn upwards into a grin.

“It’s time we crown our new King.”



Idiots, Alicent was surrounded in a room full of idiots. None of them could grasp the fact it was the time of a new again, and soon a new King.

"My Lords, we must all remember a son comes before a daughter! Rhaenyra's whole line is full of savage, Strong bastards. Let's not forget about her husband, The Rogue Prince! Why go down a line of trouble, when we have a son and legitimate heirs who were meant for this."

Her father went on praising them. His rants weren't helping, they still wore simple looks on their faces. The Small Council wore their green cloaks, but she wondered where their loyalty was when they stood here waiting for it.

"Your Grace forgive me, but the matter is settled. King Viserys had all the lords of Westeros swear fealty to Princess Rhaenyra." Maester Orwyle objected meekly in his seat.

"Yes Grand Maester, you are right. I too remember some, I recall my husband given milk of the poppy during that time, his poor mind dazed and foggy as he made these decisions. Shall I continue?” She waited for a reply but he sat silent once again.

Suddenly, Ser Criston Cole pounded his chainmail arm against the Black table that shined red. "A son comes before a daughter. It's quite simple." Someone finally understood, she thought.

Another stood, Lord Lyman Beesbury with a puffy red face. Alicent could remember why he even sat on the Small Council. Surely there were better choices for master of coin than a man almost eighty years.

"I'll hear no more of this. You cannot bully us into naming Prince Aegon; a whoremonger, lazy, gluttonous man child. I will have no part of treason!"

When Lord Lywman stood, Alicent saw hands drag his neck back till it almost snapped. She could see the golden armor pull the dagger from his side, slicing his throat. His head hung by a thread along his neck.

Ser Criston stepped forward wiping the blood off the blade. He looked at the rest of the men, waiting for them to object. Alicent turned to see their faces sweating and looking down at their hands.

Alicent gave a sly smile, looking at the blood dripping across the table. “Oh Ser Criston, what would I do without you?”



When Alicent swiftly glided through the halls, when she drew closer to her son's room, she smelled a sweet perfume. Quickly, she pushed the doors open so loud the ground rumbled.

She walked in seeing her son lying on his bed with nothing but a bed sheet covering himself. Before he could speak or do anything Alicent had him hold his tongue so she could say her words.

"Whichever whore may be hiding, please leave. I have a matter to discuss with my son. Run back to your brothel now." It was silent for a moment, soon she heard footsteps creeping out from the curtains.

She stared up at the ceiling as the girl collected her clothes. Alicent could see the fine silk across her dress and the scent of sweet perfumes. Her look of embarrassment she had running out the room showed she had some dignity to lose.

"Must you whore out your sister's, also your wife's Ladies?" She sighed staring at the door as Aegon grab a robe. When she finally turned her oldest son laid back on his feather bed of silk sheets.

"We did our duty, I have an heir, Helaena's happy with her little whelps. What must I do to have something pleasant in mine? Now mother, what have I done to be gifted with your intrusion?"

Alicent rolled her eyes. How could her son be like this, she thought. Everything she had done for her children, they deny it all. Little did they know what was coming for them.

It's time my son." She knocked the cup of wine out of his hand to grab his attention. He scuffed and his eyes circled the room looking for something to entertain him as she tried to speak.

"Time for what, just say it already." She grabbed hold of his cheeks almost breaks skin with her skins. She almost didn't want to stop seeing his selfish little face just wasting and whoring away. Alicent finally took her breath releasing his face.

"Your birth rite.”



By the time the returned to his chambers, her husband was now a rotting corpse. The curtains were closed tightly, not letting anyone know of it. The sun had risen and it's rad had made the room sweltering. She just wanted to be out of there and get on with it.

Aegon looked down at Viserys quiet, doing nothing but watching as if he'll rise from the dead. She waited patiently for him, beside Ser Criston. The Lord a Commander stood still as well, she wondered how he could do nothing but that all day.

Finally he turned, not looking at either of them just striding away. “What do you want me for? Go fetch my sister, she’s the one that wants the bloody chair.” Alicent bit her tongue when she her the phrase "sister."

"Do not tell me I raised a naive son such as yourself. Loyal you may, but your half sister will return it with taking your head." He chuckled at her, Aegon was blinded by blood to see what Rhaenyra would truly do to them all.

He sighed shaking his head. The thought of a kinslaying was ridiculous, little did her son know the depth of this rivalry. Aegon poured himself another cup of wine, but was stopped by golden armor pulling his attention.

“Forgive me my Prince, but you have always been and will be a threat to Princess Rhaenyra as long as you live. You are the true born son of a King with heirs to go on. Yours and you children’s death will be wanted from Rhaenyra to keep her claim to the Iron Throne.”

Her son finally stopped his drinking rubbing his temples and sighing. Ser Criston’s words seem to persuade him, more than Alicent’s gestures had. Of course she would never tell him that.

Aegon turned to her with a pouty look on his face. “What do I have to do?” Alicent sighed with relief. Without knowing, her face went numb. She couldn't control what her muscles were doing, just give in to them. When she turned to the mirror, her reflection showed a grinning, uncontrollable smile across her face.



Alicent once heard a fool’s story of the names of their courts as “The Blacks and the Greens.” Apparently it had started from a feast that began from the color of Alicent and her step daughter’s gowns. It had already gone long enough, she might as well give them the show they wanted.

One of her ladies had pulled from her wardrobe a silk emerald that had a golden glow when the sun touched it. Along with it, came a black cloak with gold lace sewn around the edges. On the back was her son's personal sigil, a golden three headed dragon. Lastly and least, she had to grace herself with a black laced veil to show the world she was a “widow.”

She wanted to show them all, her house stood together. Alicent planned by doing that with many shades of green. She waited on the steps to glimpse of the dark cloud of Vhagar coming down from the sky.

Servants who walked with her back away as beast landed on the pavements outside the Red Keep. She saw the blue sapphire sparkling in the sun. Her son’s hair flowed to his shoulders when he slid off Vhagar.

While Alicent greeted Aemond, he gave a small raise of his lips. That was all they could ever get out of him. Aemond may not have been a cheerful soul, but he was fierce and twice as bold as his brothers. She found to love that in her son most.

"The bells are ringing. Is my brother King or must we bow to the whore on Dragonstone?” She didn't even get a greeting, Aemond's faced had a look of rage pulsing rough him. Alicent supposed he had been waiting long for this, all she had to do was look at the sapphire where his eye was supposed to be and know it.

"We will my son, but we must wait. Wait for their first move and we decide how this shall go. First we start with showing them the true King." He sighed and cursed under his breath as he turned back to servants.

"Well are you just going to stand there?!" Aemon screamed at the feebly minded servants as he threw his metal helmet at them to prepare him for the Dragonpit. Alicent snapped her fingers when they brought out a forest green cloak sewn with gold thread.

Soon enough, she saw the Blue Queen lower down to the grounds. Alicent could see the black velvet wrapped around Daeron for mourning his father. She could hear Aemond scuff at the sight of his youngest brother.

When Tessarion landed, he jumped to the ground. Daeron’s face her with puffy, red eyes, when he faced her. Her youngest son was the gentle child of her litter. She remembered him reading with maesters and loved by the court, but he was as daring as his brothers.

Once she gathers her two sons, they waited outside for their future King and Queen. The carriages were draped in black and a gold dragon on the back. All of it had happened overnite, the banners, colors, even the new shade of dragon.

The doors creaked when Kingsguard came escorting the pair. Helaena’s wide set dress flowed as she nervously walked down the steps. She tugged on her fingers when she stood to wait for the carriage. Alicent placed her palm on her daughter’s hand, she felt her shaking hands stop as they wheels stopped to pick them up.


The horses trotted through Fleabottom and it was filled with silence. They heard the bells, a King has died and they looked through the carriages to see who would rule them now. Those who caught a look inside eyes widened, they clearly didn’t see Rhaenyra. Just green.

Alicent barely knew the name of the streets they crossed through, but they all knew her. Though she did recall one, the Street of Silk. She remembered hearing Viserys sending guards for his brother, the Lord of Fleabottom himself and dragging him back to the Red Keep.

The people matched the name, she thought. Alicent could see girls in sheer, silk dresses as men gazed at them. Brothels filled the alleys and every house down the streets, practically begging a man with full pockets to walk through their doors.

One house, or brothel Alicent might say, she caught eyes with their guests and workers. She could see through the windows wide open to get rid of the smell of scent in the pillow house. All eyes were on them.

Gold cloaks filled the room, they laughed, drank, with whores on their laps. Their smiles were crushed like a sinking ship when they caught eyes with the carriage. They stood, grasping their hips, probably craving Alicent and her children's blood on their blades.

If she had gotten her way, Alicent would have had all of them hung along the walls of the Red Keep. The officers knew their place, and who to bow to. The common guards though held their loyalty tightly to their former captain, her brother by marriage Daemon Targaryen himself.

A Pale stranger with silver hair caught eyes with Alicent. She had a solemn, frozen face, her eyes didn't stare away, she wanted Alicent to watch her. The girl pulled from a pocket in her white gown acting as if she was a septa, a rolled up piece of paper with a milky white worm for a seal.

Another gold cloak came from behind her, he slipped the paper into his hands and when the crowds began to fill the cracks of the street, they were both gone. Alicent could have called for her guards to grab them both, but there was no reason. Let Rhaenyra find out, for all of Westeros will know the true heir soon enough.



The crowd was waiting at the Dragonpit for them, their eyes creeping inside of the carriage for a look at who would rule them all. Aemond stepped out first, he grasped his longsword at his side looking at the people as he held out his hand for Alicent.

Soon came Daeron, then Helaena and the children, finally Aegon came to greet them. She could tell by their looks some were confused, waiting for Rhaenyra herself, and others had no shock in them at all.

The bells rung throughout the city, they knew what it meant. Now they all just stood and waited for someone to make the first move. Alicent stepped in front, stiffened her shoulders and strided along the steps.

“You all hear the bells! Your King has passed, now another may sit the thrown. A son! Aegon, Second of his name, first born son of King Viserys himself. My son, the true heir to the Seven Kingdoms. Your King.”

Aegon stepped forward an kneeled before Ser Criston. The Lord Commander gently lifted the dark circlet of Valyrian steel. Like the conquerer before him, the rubies shined along the band when it sat on her son’s head.

“I now Proclaim Aegon of the House Targaryen, Second of his name, King of the Andals and the First Men, Protector of the Seven Kingdoms.” Ser Criston’s voice echoed off the walls of the Dragonpit.

When Aegon rose, they all kneeled to him. Even Alicent herself, her son was King. Ser Criston stood for a moment. “Long may he reign!”

They all followed his words, one after another. Even the dragons cried from behind in the Dragonpits.