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The Bastard Boy of Dragonstone
Part 1 Viserys 1
Chapter Summary: Viserys speaks with the newly arrived bastard from Dragonstone
Series Masterlist
Words: 1,161
A/N: Viserys has no idea what he's doing
Viserys straightened himself in his chair. He wiped down his black tunic with the red three-headed dragon. His hand trembled against the armrest of his seat but he tried to stop it. After all, he needed to seem strong. He needed to seem like the king.
A knock came from the chambers’ door.
“Come in”, he said.
The doors opened from behind them in walked Ser Harrold Westerling and the boy. The commander of the Kingsguard glanced at the young man and then at Viserys. A question hung in the air. Do you want me to leave him alone with you? Or more so, is he dangerous if left alone with you?
Viserys lifted his finger, dismissing the knight. Ser Harrold nodded and closed the doors behind him.
It was just the two of them now.
Viserys saw the boy standing there, his hands behind his back with a neutral look on his face.
“Can sit down”, Viserys stated.
The boy’s eyes bore into him before turning to a chair. Viserys watched as he sat down across from him. His legs were sprawled out, one ankle resting over his knee. His hands hung over the edge of the armrest. He seemed relaxed. Viserys wasn’t sure if this child truly knew why he was there.
“I never got a chance to ask, what’s your name?”
“Gaemon.”
Viserys nodded. “I’m glad we finally get a chance to talk. It’s not often a boy claims a wild dragon.”
“Is it not? Or is it not rare for a lowborn bastard to do it?” The boy asked calmly.
Viserys sucked in through his teeth. “Both actually.”
The boy’s eyes shifted away from Viserys to the fire beside them.
The king swallowed uncomfortably by the silence. “So, did you name your dragon?”
“He came with a name already. Grey Ghost.”
“It’s surprising that you managed to claim him, I’ve heard he is shy around people.”
“Not around me, I guess”, the boy said with no particular enthusiasm.
Viserys leaned forward. “You know, I remember when I first claimed my dragon, Balerion. I was frankly a bit terrified at the prospect of taming him but I swallowed my fear and did it.”
Gaemon didn’t respond.
“It was also very terrifying because I knew I was carrying such a legacy by being his rider after all he was Aegon’s.”
“Who?”
Viserys stared dumbfounded. “Aegon the Conqueror. The first Targaryen King. He and his sisters, Visenya and Rhaenys conquered and united Westeros over a hundred years ago.”
“Oh, them. Right.”
“How have you been liking the Red Keep?” Viserys started. “I’m sure it's much bigger than what you’re used to. Still, once you’ve been around it a few times you get used to corridors. We tend to have many pieces of art about my family’s past and customs as well as-”
“-Why did you call me here?” He interrupted.
Viserys was taken aback.
The boy took note of his confusion. “You ordered me to come here. Is there a reason why or are we going to speak about art?”
Viserys’ brows crinkled together.
“Everyone here is wondering what you’re going to do with me. The guards whisper it, and so do the maids. I’m no one’s bastard. Not you, not your brother, and definitely not your sons’. I don’t share your blood so everyone is wondering what you’re going to do with me.”
Viserys looked him straight in the eye. “Like I said it’s not every day that someone claims a wild dragon.”
“Especially not someone like me…I don’t come from your line. I don’t hold any land or titles. My family name is one shared by thousands of bastards, Rivers. Yet, you brought me here for one reason. I have a dragon.”
“Exactly.”
“What does your family want you to do with me?”
“They have yet to find out about you.”
“It will be a bit difficult to hide me when I have a dragon waiting outside in the courtyard.”
“I know.”
“So, what do you plan to do?”
Viserys sighed. Gods his life was becoming more difficult than it needed to be. He was already dealing with Rhaenyra and Alicent’s feud, and now this.
“I can have you fostered in a lord’s household. You can also take up the sword and swear an oath to hold no land and father no children. You can go to the Citadel. Or you can take up the black.”
Gaemon titled his head. “All of these are interesting ideas but they have their flaws. If I stay with a lord, you would essentially be giving that very lucky lord a dragon. After all, I would be serving him. I could take up the sword and become a knight only there is a problem, most knights have already been trained as squires. I have had no such training and if you want to deal with me as quickly as you want that will not work. The Citadel will not work as well since I can’t read. Also, the black? Do you truly want a dragon at the wall? That is what you will get if you send me, Grey Ghost follows me everywhere.”
Viserys observed the boy. “Then what do you suggest?”
“You already legitimized me in the letter you sent to Dragonstone. That was after you heard of me. So, what would be the duties of a Targaryen? I’m not part of your line so in my case, I would simply have to marry and give your house more heirs, right?”
“Those are the duties of a prince.”
“Until then, I’m happy with staying in my chambers. Do we have an agreement?”
Viserys glanced at the fire. “I would need to talk to my Hand first.”
“Why? You’re the king.”
“He advises me.”
“You already legitimized me; it’s already stated in paper. He’s an advisor, you’re king, what power does he have over your word?”
Viserys nodded after a while. “Very well, when the time is right you will marry and serve House Targaryen.”
The boy blinked. “May I go now?”
“Yes. You are dismissed.”
Viserys watched as he stood from his chair and walked away, never looking back. When the door closed behind him, Viserys slumped into the chair. The boy was a mystery to him. He had the silver hair of Valyria and violet eyes. His hair was messily chopped. When Viserys first saw him, it reminded him of Daemon when he was young. But his age and birthplace made any connection to his immediate family impossible. Still, there was the blood of Valyria in him. However, instead of a fire in his eyes like most Targaryens, he found a coldness brewing beneath them.
He sighed. The court would gossip. He would never hear the end of it from both Rhaenyra and Alicent. Yet, the old dying king knew it, this boy possessed a dragon and that alone made him one of the most dangerous people in the realm.
The Bastard Boy of Dragonstone
Summary:
A rumor spreads to King’s Landing. A boy has claimed a dragon on Dragonstone. Viserys initially brushes it off as a poor jest until it grows undeniable. A boy, some common boy, has bonded with one of the wild dragons. In an attempt to keep things under wraps, Viserys legitimatizes the boy, claiming he’s a bastard of Targaryen decent.
Tensions rise when the boy arrives in court. He’s a commoner with no place there yet he is there. His Valyrian features are very prominent and only make the three eldest sons of Rhaenyra stand out more. His manners and demeanor lead to an air of uncomfortableness. The Dance has yet to happen. The factions are unsure what to do with this stranger. Should they convince him to join them or do their best to avoid him?
But one consequence of his arrival looms over. A common boy had claimed a dragon, a weapon of untold destruction. For years many believed only true-born Targaryens could control such beasts. The idea of the Targaryen’s strength is threatened. After all, if a bastard from nowhere could claim a dragon, what's stopping any other dragonseeds or Targaryen descendants from doing so?
Fandom: House of the Dragon
Warnings: Multiple POVs, Language, some angst, heavy politics, Targaryen Critical, and depictions of poverty
Part 1- Viserys Part 2- Rhaenyra Part 3- Alicent Part 4- Jacaerys
More parts to add
The Bastard Boy of Dragonstone
Part 2 Rhaenyra 1
Chapter Summary: Rhaenyra wants to speak with her father about a certain manner but someone else has been invited to the dinner
Series Masterlist
Warning: Language, Targaryen Critical, Classism
Words: 1,094
A/N: Italics are High Valyrian
Rhaenyra listened to the clinking of the utensils as she cut into her food. Every now and again someone would lift up their cup then take a sip. Beside her, Daemon hardly ate, he only glared at her father. Across the table her father was slumped back on his seat. His eyes wavered and Rhaenyra could tell he was not present at the moment. Probably that damned Milk of the Poppy the maesters gave him.
When her father had invited her to King’s Landing, she had assumed it would be to talk about the realm and her position as heir. Maybe even to catch up after being in Dragonstone for years. She assumed when he told her they would have a “small” dinner it would be for that. Her eyes drifted over to the young boy seated slightly across from her.
Daemon asked the question on her mind. -Skoro syt iksos nādrēsy sekesīr? - “Why is the bastard here?”
“Daemon.” She slapped his arm lightly. A warning that the boy was in their presence.
“He’s a commoner, he doesn’t speak our native tongue. He probably doesn’t speak his own correctly.”
Rhaenyra rolled her eyes. Her father’s mind was clearly elsewhere.
“I don’t understand why my father brought us here to have dinner when he’s here too?”
“I know my brother; he always wants to believe that everyone will get along.”
Rhaenyra sighed. “I thought since the Queen wasn’t invited, we could speak to him about declaring the boys as heirs too, Jace for the Prince of Dragonstone and Luke for Driftmark.”
“Instead, my brother is half drunk on the Poppy and he’s here.”
“Why would he legitimize him? He has no royal blood and all it’s done is make things worse for Jace, Luke, and Joffrey.” Rhaenyra gripped her knife tightly. “When he arrived at court everyone was looking at him. Then everyone looked at the boys for comparison.”
“Yes, the silver-haired bastard with purple eyes and then the heirs of the Iron Throne with their other characteristics…”
“He is making them look worse. Their eyes more than ever are on the boys. All my father did is place an even larger glaring light on them.”
A sound came from across the table. Her father seemingly jolted awake. He rubbed his remaining eye.
“Oh, forgive me, my child, I must have fallen asleep”, her father apologized.
Rhaenyra straightened herself. “It’s alright, father. Actually, we were wondering if we could speak to you about Jace and Luke.”
“Ah yes, how are the boys doing? I heard Jace has been practicing more with the sword.”
Rhaenyra gave a wide grin. “He has, and his instructor says he is progressing quickly.”
“Good, good. How is Luke?”
“He’s learning how to speak High Valyrian, actually.”
“Wonderful, it’s so good to hear that he is honoring his ancestors.”
The boy’s ears perked up.
“Yes, father.”
“How are your little ones, Aegon and Viserys?”
“They’re well. We are planning to get an egg for Viserys.”
“Are there any eggs in the Dragonpit, by any chance?” Daemon asked.
Viserys frowned. “Sadly, I wouldn’t know there have been a lot of new changes in the Dragonpit as of late, including a new arrival.”
“A new arrival?” Daemon inquired.
“Yes, has Gaemon not told you of his dragon, Grey Ghost?”
Rhaenyra’s eyes widened. They slowly traveled to the boy. He was poking a piece of vegetable with his fork. It wasn’t even the right fork.
“Gaemon, did you not tell them?” Her father asked.
“Sorry I was eating and forgot”, the boy replied.
Her father nodded, accepting the answer. “Well then yes, I’ll have the dragonkeepers check for an egg.”
Rhaenyra hid a frown.
Her father winced.
She stood up. “Father?”
Daemon moved toward his brother.
“What’s wrong?” She asked him.
Her father touched his temple. “I need more milk of the poppy; I’m not feeling too well.”
Rhaenyra signaled the servants to help him and watched as they lifted him away. The doors closed behind them, suddenly it was the three of them there.
Daemon sat back down and so did she. A moment of silence loomed over before her husband broke it. “The bastard has a dragon.”
Rhaenyra said nothing.
“This makes things worse.”
Rhaenyra stared at her husband. “As if he wasn’t already making things worse. He has legitimacy, the features, and now a dragon?”
“My brother is an even bigger fool than I thought.”
“His presence will only cause Jace, Luke, and Joffrey’s legitimacy to be questioned.”
“Oh, he’s doing worse than that.”
“This can’t have been the Hightower’s idea. Even they are not as bold as this.”
“Please as if the pious bitch would ever want a bastard holding a title, she’d rather die than put her own children on the same level as a commoner.”
“But he clearly wasn’t thinking right if he decided to legitimize a bastard and bring him here to court.”
“I don’t know but it wasn’t that prick Otto.”
“I can’t believe, he put him in the line of succession.”
“It’s a far line but he’s there.” Daemon cursed with a hiss, “Damned bastard.”
“We need to keep the boys away from him so as not to invite unwanted attention.”
“Why should we have to? That bastard should be the one to have to be kept away, not them.”
“We need to speak to my father about this soon.”
“Just tell him to throw the bastard at any lord to be fostered.”
The chair across from her made a noise against the floor. Rhaenyra looked up to see the boy standing up. His plate was completely empty. There weren’t even any bread rolls on his side of the table.
He looked at the two of them. “Excuse me, I’ve finished my meal and will be going to my room.”
The boy moved away and began walking toward the door. The guard went to grab the handle, and that’s when he suddenly turned toward them again.
“Forgive me, I almost forgot I wanted to ask you something.”
Rhaenyra nodded. “Yes?”
He gave a smile. “Nādrēsy, that’s the word for bastard, right?”
Rhaenyra felt her stomach drop.
His smile didn’t lighten up.
Her eyes only stared at him. How did he know?
His smile. It looked so genuine and happy, yet Rhaenyra knew better. “I’ve been learning High Valyrian. I believed it would come in handy. I was right.”
He didn’t spare another glance and walked away. The door closed behind him. Daemon seemed just as shocked, but Rhaenyra only looked where he once stood.
The Bastard Boy of Dragonstone
Part 3 Alicent 1
Chapter Summary: Alicent goes to the weirwood and finds Gaemon there
Series Masterlist
Warning: Targaryen Critical, low-key Viserys bashing
Words: 743
A/N: Turns out they have something in common
Alicent dismissed Ser Criston when they arrived at the weirwood tree. Her loyal knight, stubbornly refused to leave her side, worried about the danger in her being alone with him. Alicent promised him she would be fine; only then did he go. The door closed.
Alicent looked over at the boy standing in front of the tree. She faced his back. His short stature and silver hair reminded her of her own sons when they were his age. His hair was different though from any of her sons. Aegon’s was curled and short, Aemond’s was straight and long, and Daeron’s was straight but cut above his ears. He was similar but so different.
At first, when Viserys told her what he had done, she only asked him if the boy was his. She asked it in a hushed voice, the anger was dripping out. She didn’t love Viserys that way but the idea of him turning to another when she had given him her innocence, her womb, and her devotion made her burn with rage. He assured the boy was not. When she heard he was fifteen, she knew he was telling the truth. By the time the boy was conceived Viserys struggled to even walk without his cane. The maesters never left him alone as his health was always complicated. The maids didn’t enter his room, she was the one to help dress and feed him. He couldn’t have had that child.
Alicent was sure Criston’s exit revealed someone was there, but still, he didn’t turn around. She stayed where she stood.
“Do you believe in the Old Gods?” She asked. “This is a weirwood after all.”
He turned around slowly. “No.”
“Do you believe in the faith?” Alicent asked with curiosity.
The boy’s eyes shifted toward her necklace of the seven-pointed star.
Alicent gave a soft smile. “I wouldn’t be offended if you don’t, I’m merely curious.”
There was silence until he said, “No, I don’t.”
Alicent nodded. “This is a quiet place to come to, faith or not.”
The boy nodded.
“I come here to pray sometimes when I’m not at the Sept.”
The boy raised a brow. “Am I interrupting?”
Alicent shook her head. “No. No.”
He relaxed his shoulders, slightly.
“How have you been adjusting to the Keep?” She asked.
“Alright, for the most.”
“Has everyone been welcoming?”
“The servants treat me good.”
Alicent leaned forward. “And everyone else?”
He shrugged. “I’m used to it already.”
“It will take time.”
“I doubt it. Title or not, I know what I am seen as, your Grace.”
Alicent’s smile turned sad. Her head lowered.
“You know when I was your age, I married the king”, Alicent sighed.
This caught the boy’s attention. “I didn’t know you and the king were that married that long.”
Alicent nodded. “It’s true. Before we were married, I was Lady Alicent Hightower. Even after I had my children, I felt like an outsider. The house of the dragon was very closed off from others.”
“Was?” He asked with a hint of sarcasm.
“Back then it was only the king, the princess, and the king’s brother. They were very united years ago but since then they’ve expanded. The king’s brother had his daughters, the princess had her children and I had mine.”
“Does it ever go away?” He asked.
“What do you mean?”
“The feeling of being an outsider, does it ever go away?”
If Alicent was being honest, she would say no. Twenty years of being married to Viserys and the Targaryens never truly let her forget she was an outsider. But she didn’t want to destroy his hope. None deserved the flames of the Targaryens especially someone so young.
“The house of the dragon is not very welcoming. Despite that, you have their blood. You are a Targaryen. You are here. You are a prince of the realm. You belong here.”
Even as Alicent looked at him, all she could see was an anxious fifteen-year-old girl carrying a child in her belly. How she wished someone had told her what she said to him. She shared no connection with him, yet they were kindred spirits in one regard. It was one that no one else would ever truly understand. The Targaryens were supposedly closer to the Gods than men, living amongst Gods as a mere mortal was a volatile thing. She had survived nearly twenty years. Alicent prayed that this boy, Gaemon, would too.
The Bastard Boy of Dragonstone
Part 4 Jacaerys 1
Chapter Summary: Jace has to come to terms with what the new arrival means for him
Series Masterlist
Warning: Self Hatred, Targaryen Critical, talks of Valyrian blood/superiority, Angst, kind of bastardphobic?
Words: 1,669
A/N: Jace is not okay holy crap
Jace felt his blood run cold when he first saw him. There in front of the court stood a boy only a year younger than him. He was a bastard from Dragonstone. Nobody in their family claimed him as their own. Gods knew who his parents were. Only the Gods knew. Yet…he had the straight silver hair and the brilliant light violet eyes. His skin was pale, even his nose was pointed and thin. Jace saw the look of confusion in the court’s eyes, in his mother’s eyes. Eventually, those eyes turned to him. They scrutinized him. The Targaryen Prince. The future heir of the Iron Throne after his mother. Yet, he looked nothing like this stranger. Something was off and Jace knew it wasn’t the other boy.
The wind blew past his face. It was a cold day outside the Red Keep. Jace stood in the training yard. It was completely empty save for the guards positioned by the doors. It served him better, Jace didn’t want to interact with any of his uncles. Given how tense his mother and Daemon had been since they arrived, Jace wanted to keep a distance from them too.
Jace swung the sword in his hand. It felt odd. He decided a real blade would suit him better. He turned toward the weaponry and picked up a sword. However, it seemed dull. Jace walked to sharpen the blade when he heard the doors open.
Soft steps went along the dirt ground. Jace froze.
No one said anything. No one did anything to him. Jace was half expecting it to be Aemond who would grab his tunic and push him onto the ground.
He looked over his shoulder. It was him. The boy. He was leaning forward, staring at the weaponry. His hands gently held a sword.
Jace watched him. He looked almost curious as he held the blade. Had he never held one before?
The boy either didn’t notice Jace or didn’t care. Jace wasn’t sure if he was grateful for this. All he knew was that now as he stood before him, so much was rushing inside of him.
Jace knew that boy was a bastard. It was what Daemon had mumbled under his breath whenever he saw him. But all Jace could see was a true Targaryen. Even if his family mocked whatever muddled blood he had, all Jace saw was someone who looked everything a prince should look like. Jace’s mother was a Targaryen, but he shared none of her features. It didn’t bother him…at first. He rode a dragon, there was no reason to deny him a title as a Targaryen. Then his mother had Aegon and Viserys. Jace loved his brothers more than anything but every time he looked at them, he saw the better Targaryens. The true Targaryens. Daemon and his mother looked proud at their two youngest sons. They were the better children. In the eyes of the court and deep down he knew in his mother’s too. These children wouldn’t raise brows and questions. And despite the boy’s title as a legitimized bastard, he wouldn’t either, he looked like he belonged.
Jace let go of his sword and turned toward the doors in a huff. He didn’t want to be there any longer. The doors opened wide, however, both of Jace’s hands were still by his side. From the behind the doors came his brother, Luke.
“Jace, I’ve been looking for you. Why didn’t you tell me you were going to the yard?”
“I’m not staying so it doesn’t matter”, Jace sighed.
Luke glanced at the courtyard, Jace wished he hadn’t.
“Is that Gaemon?” Luke asked. “Were you training together?”
“No.”
“Oh…” Luke stared at the other boy. “Maybe we could?”
“It’s best if we don’t”, Jace shut down the idea.
“Why not?”
Jace looked at the boy. How was Luke so blind? Was it not obvious?
“Nothing good will come out of spending time with him.”
“How do you know that?”
“It will only cause more people to stare”, Jace whispered.
“What? At him?”
“No Luke, at us.”
Without a word, Luke began walking around the training yard. Jace realized he was going toward Gaemon and ran after him.
“Luke leave it alone”, Jace warned.
Luke didn’t answer, still walking.
“Luke, stop.” Jace gripped his brother’s arm.
Luke turned; his usually soft features were contorted with anger.
“Why do you care about this so much?” Jace asked.
“Because maybe he would understand”, Luke grit through his teeth.
“Understand what?”
“You know what I mean. He understands what it's like to be a bast-”
Jace shushed Luke before he could finish saying the word.
“Are you mad? Keep your voice down.”
Luke just glared at him. Jace didn’t care, however, his younger brother was acting childish.
“We are Targaryens. Our mother is the heir to the Iron Throne. We are nothing like him.” Even as he said it, Jace couldn’t believe his own words.
“He would know what it's like. The stares. The whispers.”
Jace shook his head. “He’s a common bastard from Dragonstone. Half of everyone there is baseborn already.”
Luke’s face only reflected disgust.
“The closer we get to him; the more danger Mother’s position will be in as well as ours. Pay him no mind. Unlike him, we have everything to lose and the throne to gain.”
Luke lifted his face upward. His eyes shifted. “The only difference between us and him is our mother is a princess. To question our legitimacy is high treason, to question his is a small jest that he must hear every day.”
Luke pulled his arm away and left the courtyard, leaving Jace with his own thoughts.
The next day, Jace went to the Dragonpit. Luke hadn’t spoken to him since the argument and his mother’s anxiousness seemed to grow with each day. He couldn’t stand it.
Jace waited in the middle of the large dome building, the dragonkeepers went ahead to get Vermax. He was tapping his foot against the dirt when the doors of the Dragonpit were opened. His brown eyes shifted, and he caught a glimpse of silver-white hair. The choppy medium-length hair let him know who it was.
The keepers looked at the new arrival and almost went to the corridors where the dragons resided until he put up his hand.
“I’ll get him myself”, the boy said.
The dragonkeepers seemed like they wanted to disagree, but the boy went ahead toward the corridors without another word. Jace watched as he disappeared into the dark tunnels. Silence filled the Dragonpit until Vermax came out. Jace approached his dragon with a weary smile.
Vermax nearly snapped at those who held his chains but upon seeing Jace calmed down. The dragon extended his neck out to get closer to his rider. Jace stroked his green scales, watching the ill-tempered dragon soothe at the touch. The keepers undid his chains. Jace kept the dragon’s yellow eyes on him. The keepers returned with a leather saddle. Vermax huffed at the touch of someone else and nearly snapped toward them. Jace whispered in High Valyrian to get his attention. After a moment, the keepers finished and gave the pair space.
Underneath his hand, Vermax’s body tensed. His neck extended toward the dark corridors. Jace looked over. A voice was coming from the corridors. It seemed to be mumbling something. From the darkness, the other boy came out. Jace could see his lips moving, he was saying something. But he wasn’t looking at Jace or any of the dragonkeepers. Still, he was talking.
The shadows of the tunnel moved. Vermax took a step back in surprise. Jace watched as a large dragon crawled out. His scales were white with grey underneath his tattered wings. His eyes shifted between Jace, Vermax, and the dragonkeepers.
Then Gaemon turned back to him still speaking- no singing. Gaemon was singing to him. The dragon’s gaze went back to the boy. He tentatively took steps further into the center of the dome. Once he was out enough, Gaemon approached him, dragging his hand along the dragon’s scaled jaw.
Jace stared in confusion when he saw Gaemon begin to mount the dragon. There was no saddle on the dragon’s back, yet the boy climbed on anyway.
For a moment, Gaemon looked in Jace’s direction. His face was neutral in every sense of the word.
Jace didn’t say anything to him and the boy in response said nothing in return.
Gaemon turned toward the exit. His dragon passed by him and Vermax, looking at them wearily, before leaving the building. Jace heard a deep growling and knew that meant they had taken off into the skies.
Jace felt the need to go after him. Why? He didn’t know. He had a duty to his mother and to his family. He had to make sure that his mother’s position as heir was secured. She told him he would one day sit on the Iron Throne. Their line would rule. All he had to do was play the part and ensure no ill word was spoken of them. Yet Luke’s words came back to him. He was a Targaryen but not a legitimate one. He shared the same blood as his uncles and aunt, half Valyrian and half Andal, they were the same, but they truly weren’t. He wasn’t supposed to be like this. He was supposed to be a Velaryon. He was supposed to be trueborn.
Would the other boy understand? Would he understand the anguish of knowing you were different, never truly fitting in? Maybe, just maybe someone could understand what it was like to be a mistake. But Jace would always put his duty first, that’s what made him a good son. He will keep Gaemon at arm’s length and go on living wondering if he could have had someone to understand him. For the sake of his mother. For his brothers. For the throne.