A Wandering Melody

Chapter 179: A Crown’s Worth

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125 AC, King's Landing

Viserys Targaryen stood up on the balcony, staring at the city beneath him, his city, and released a deep sigh. The damage from the Shadowbinder's attack was healing, and perhaps even for the better. The Red Keep had been repaired, and even now, Aemond and his Master of Coin were working on using this crisis to improve the city's infrastructure.

In many ways, Viserys thought that his reign would be remembered as a blessed one. Seasons had come and gone in just a handful of moons, which had made smallfolk all but worship him across the Seven Kingdoms, and even his heir and nephew, Aegon. There had been some issues with some of the food production when winter came in less than a year before the previous one, but thankfully, it had resolved itself.

Somehow, the Reach had not sold any grains during the short summer, with many deals and contracts falling through mysteriously, and in the end, there was a large stockpile of grain when winter hit, enough to feed the realm. After this, with the seasons becoming shorter and more regular, Viserys saw a beautiful reality forming before him, one where no one would need to die of hunger and cold, weathering a long winter, where people could survive and perhaps even thrive, and it was all during his reign.

The Maesters had been completely baffled by the change in seasons, of course, and according to his Uncle Vaegon, blamed some magical ritual from the far East, which sought to try to starve the world, something that Viserys found to be quite amusing in its falsehood, for Harry Potter had told him the truth.

Things were going quite well recently. Banditry was becoming less common, with patrols somehow always finding them quite quickly. That's aside from what Jeyne Arryn was accomplishing in the Vale, wiping out the Mountain Clans who had plagued the Seven Kingdoms for thousands of years. The North remained just as isolated as ever, even with Cregan Stark's infamy, but it seemed that their harvests were growing quite well with the seasons shortening, and they were able to have enough grain that they did not need to import grain.

There were also rumours of them beginning to establish mines, and Viserys hoped that fortune would reward them for their service, both in Cregan Stark's help in defeating the darkness that plagued the world and his feats during the Capital. The realm owed House Stark more than they knew, and Viserys, truthfully, wished that he could have rewarded them more.

The new libraries, or new Citadels as they were now called, had been built, with the one in King's Landing being almost akin to a beacon before the city. Their construction in the seat of every Great House had been smooth, in a way that Viserys hadn't thought possible. His Uncle Vaegon had spoken to him regarding potential sabotage attempts from certain disgruntled Maesters, and despite warning the lords and telling them to guard their books, nothing had happened. Most of the people involved also seemed to have fallen ill soon after, so this situation resolved itself perfectly without his involvement at all, something that Viserys was more than happy with.

It was also a pattern that seemed to follow even in his court. A lot of lords and ladies had left urgently because of some scandal or another, as well as many officials involved in the running of the realm, and yet, somehow, things seemed to be progressing quite well. The crown's collected taxes were also higher than usual despite him not raising them at all, enough that the surplus was exactly enough to fund Helaena's 'orphanage' project, something that only a woman's heart could come up with.

Even his realm's enemy, the Red Faith, had been wiped out completely and utterly. Viserys did not know of the specifics, only that the upper leadership fell, and with it, a civil war within the faith began, which ended with its collapse.

When he had told his lords that their vengeance would be repaid tenfold in due time, if only to stop them from foolishly going to war against half of Essos at the attack, he had not expected this. And now, most of the lords of the realm thought that he had been the one behind the collapse of the Red Temples, a show of might that they did not need dragons to destroy someone as powerful and as widespread as the Red Faith, and they became terrified of him.

It was saddening at first. He had often considered many of these lords to be his friends, or at least, closer to them, and yet, Viserys's newfound reparation had grown a certain distance between them. However, for some reason, he found that things became far smoother after this, which really shed some light on how his lords acted before the attack.

It did not matter now, not truly. His commands were more effectively obeyed, often without question, and there were fewer bouts of foolishness in his court, a great contrast to what came before.

That paled compared to the most important improvement: the divide in his family was finally gone. Daemon stopped trying to push every boundary possible, Aegon stopped drinking and whoring, and was quickly becoming quite the devoted father. Aemond was becoming quite productive with his works and projects, enough that he might be the best of Viserys and Daemon. He was said to have the skill of the warrior reborn, only hampered by the loss of his eye, which only elevated his status as the slayer of Shadowbinders and Saviour of Dragons during the attack. Viserys could see the boy becoming Hand of the King at some point.

Daeron was also thriving in Oldtown, seemingly growing to become quite the knight, already having great renown for slaying the Red Witch during the attack. Rhaenys was satisfied as his Hand and was very effective in her post, while the Sea Snake returned to Driftmark, taking with him Rhaenyra's three eldest, still maintaining the illusion of their legitimacy.

For some reason, Jacaerys seemed to be fascinated with the Summer Isles, and it seemed like the boys would be following Corlys Velaryon's footsteps in the future.

It would not last; that was something that Viserys knew. Baela would be the one to inherit Driftmark eventually, just as he promised Rhaenys, and now, he needed to find a way to do it without causing a scandal. So far, he was planning on waiting until the boys were old enough to be reasoned with and know what they would lose and why.

Despite a few troublesome issues, Viserys had everything he could have ever wanted as a king. A stable realm, a mending divide within his family, and a legacy that would be remembered for centuries to come, all without waging a single war.

Everything was going so well that Viserys barely needed to deal with troublesome matters, which often resolved themselves. He did notice that there had been a surprising rise in scandals since the attack on the Capital, which often ended with people returning to their homes in shame. There had also been a lot of accidents as well, which he found to be quite strange. Half a dozen lords had tripped and fallen in the last two years, and most investigations had shown that they often involved themselves in matters that one would find… distasteful, which was no great loss.

It was as if the gods themselves were protecting his rule. Well, not exactly, for he knew who was truly protecting him: Harry Potter, the sorcerer, who likely ensured that the realm would not burn, and the cost was a banished daughter, a broken marriage, and the death of one of his dearest friends.

The thoughts of his failings made him pick up the goblet of wine before him out of pure instinct and take a long gulp of wine.

Just as he did, a voice spoke up behind him, "It's a bit early for wine, don't you think?"

Viserys stiffened at the familiar voice, one that he had not heard for some time, one belonging to Harry Potter. The sorcerer had been largely absent in the last few years, though Viserys felt a certain sense of security at the knowledge of his presence nearby. After all, a man who had defeated the Darkness foreseen by the Conqueror would stop any other potential devastation, such as a magical attack like the one perpetrated by the Shadowbinders.

Oh, how he would have wished to bring the man into his Small Council, to create a Master of Magic post, perhaps, but he never found the opportunity to ask him. Perhaps today would be the day to do it. After all, Potter did seem interested in the affairs of the Seven Kingdoms.

And so, he turned and smiled at Potter, "Perhaps, but a king can be allowed certain vices."

The man hummed before walking and sitting in front of Viserys, "Maybe… But sad drinking isn't healthy for anyone, especially when done alone. Tell me, Viserys Targaryen, what could make a king feel such profound melancholy?"

Viserys looked out of the window and answered, "I think if I saw myself in my youth, the King that I am now, how my reign is perceived, as a beacon of prosperity, I would have been overjoyed, no matter the sacrifices that I needed to make.

He had come to terms with Otto's death, even if he often felt guilt whenever he forgot him sometimes. His wife had all but stopped speaking with him, and whatever occurred to her in that Sept did not help matters. Viserys loved his wife dearly, but he could do very little against shadow witches who stole the Light of the Seven from her. She made very little sense of what occurred, and while Viserys had done his best to find this 'figure', no trace of it existed, just as the Maesters found no harm on the Queen.

Truly, it was a blessing that Helaena had done her best to calm her down and slowly drew her towards working on her little endeavours. She was visibly becoming better over time, but she barely spoke to him, and when she did, it was as his subject, not his wife.

As for Rhaenyra, he… he often tried not to think of her, Aemma's gift, being all but a prisoner in Dragonstone, dragonless, and alone. He wished that he could take her back into his arms and comfort her, in memory of the girl that she used to be. And yet, Rhaenyra had done what could not be forgotten, not anytime soon, perhaps not ever, and the ruin that she could have brought in the Seven Kingdoms, that she had almost brought, could not be forgiven, even by a father's love.

The King of the Seven Kingdoms took a large gulp of wine at the memory, and he looked at the sorcerer, a man far wiser than he, for guidance, which he did. "Time is a tricky thing. People often forget how much they change over the years. The people that they used to be slowly die, to become the people that they are now, sometimes for the better, sometimes for the worse. What you valued then, what you value now, are very different things."

Viserys felt some confusion at that answer, for it did not truly answer his question, nor was it in any way particularly helpful. It must have shown as the man elaborated, "At another time, in another life, a very wise man spoke words that I quite like. He was one of your descendants, I believe, a Maester on the Wall, though that would likely not come. But that doesn't matter; his words do. Love is the Death of Duty."

Aside from the strange prospect that he was listening to the words of one of his descendants, likely centuries before their birth, the words held much truth. Viserys's life had always been a battle between his love for his family and his duty to the throne, a battle that he had almost lost completely and utterly.

The sorcerer continued, "Neither love nor duty is a bad choice. But what one person values could possibly be. An excess of duty would only end in an empty life, devoid of love. An excess of love would cause one to neglect their duties, which can cause harm in the long run. You feel different from when you were younger, because you are different, meaning that you also value this exchange differently. I always find it useful to think of the alternative, of what could have happened, had you made different choices, of course, given the information that you had at the time, and if you would do things differently."

Viserys looked at the alternative, of a world where King's Landing had fallen to the Shadowbinders and Red Priests, one where a war for the succession after his death could still occur.

He smiled bitterly at that, though he still gulped some wine, his burden not quite alleviated, but at least comforted by his choices. He looked at the man who had helped him at this time and spoke up the offer that had remained on his mind for some time, "This is the kind of counsel that I wish my advisors would give me. I have half a mind to put you in my Small Council as the Master of Magic, or something of the sort."

The sorcerer snorted, "Don't take it the wrong way, but I can't think of anything that I would want less. If I wanted to involve myself in politics, I would have done it in my home, instead of faking my death and travelling around. Besides, it would be wrong to make a long-term commitment when Daphne and I are leaving soon."

Any rage that Viserys held at the dismissal of his generous offer was immediately wiped out by the chill of that last statement, "You are leaving?"

The mere thought of it felt foreign, at least to Viserys, despite the fact that he had known that it had been inevitable. They were travellers, but they had spent years in Westeros, enough that he thought that they would have preferred to stay.

It was obvious that the Potters had planned… something regarding the Seven Kingdoms, especially how much effort they spent trying to stop it from being destroyed, either from within or from external factors. They had stopped a civil war, helped him deal with a succession crisis, and fought against Winter itself.

There was a certain security in knowing that they were nearby to help his reign, and sometimes, he had forgotten that eventually, that security would end, but for it to be so soon, and so suddenly…

Potter nodded, as if the single act did not feel like an executioner's sword, "Yes, soon. I thought it was polite to let you know. We've already stayed longer than we probably should have, but we needed to make sure that everything settled down… nicely. But now, it's time to move on, and for this world to grasp its own destiny with its own hands."

This changed things…

This changed quite a lot, even, for the Potters had achieved whatever it was that they wanted to with their work in Westeros, and though a part of Viserys was happy that it was obviously not something nefarious, and that alone was a relief, that did not change the sudden sense of vulnerability that he felt without their presence.

Of course, this was not something he would ever voice, though some of his hesitation must have shown on his face, given the way the sorcerer's face softened, "You seem troubled, Viserys."

Normally, he would have been angry at this, but instead, he found himself flinching at the tone. He deflated once more and looked at the man's green eyes, likely looking far more pathetic than any king had in the history of House Targaryen.

He opened his mouth and spoke the words, one that he hid deeply inside, for there was no use hiding from a man who could see past, present, and future, with a bitter tone, "Viserys the Peaceful, they call me, the Blessed King, and yet, it is not my peace, nor is it my prosperity. It is yours. Without you, I would have rotted atop my throne, while my family burnt the realm to cinders… Even now, what part of this prosperity has been born from my hand, aside from resolving the succession crisis that I, myself, had caused?"

"Ah," Potter said, "Neither Daphne nor I have involved ourselves in the affairs of the Seven Kingdoms since the Great Council."

Viserys stiffened at that, "Then… My reign…"

"Was House Targaryen's work, not ours, not even closely. You picked good advisors, and now, you're reaping the benefits of your decisions. A part of why we waited for so long was to see how Westeros would fare without our active involvement, and so far, things seem to be going in the right direction. But you're right about one thing: you're being too passive. It's not a bad thing, but you need to move past your mistakes regarding the succession and become the king that you are meant to be. And lucky for you, I have an answer to that."

This was the crux of the problem, the fact that Viserys was afraid of destroying the hard-fought peace that the Potters had arranged for him, that without their presence, any decision that he might make would have no one to stop it, which was why he practically clung to that answer. Perhaps it would be some sort of magic that would help him make the best decisions, or something of the like.

And yet, the man raised his hand, and a brilliant ring appeared above it. It was made of a white, almost glowing metal, one that reminded him of Cregan Stark's sword, and yet, there was also a blue jewel atop it, also seemingly glowing as well. The band of the ring was shaped almost as if it were a dragon, with the jewel being the flames that it was breathing. It was the most beautiful thing that he had ever seen and certainly would have been a great gift worthy of the royal family, but a ring could hardly help a king rule over the realm.

He turned to the sorcerer and saw him looking blankly at the sky. "There is a story, back in my home, a legend that existed for centuries before I was born, though parts of it are true. It spoke of a sword in a stone, one that only a worthy man could free and become king. Of course, it had been warped over the years, but it is my inspiration for this. I won't bore you with the details, but this ring… this ring will only allow itself to be worn by a Targaryen who would become a worthy king. It also stops anyone from interfering with its wielder's mind; after all, it wouldn't do for the highest power in the Seven Kingdoms to end up possessed or anything like that. Quite a handy thing, huh?"

He said so while putting the ring on Viserys's hand, and the weight of it was immense. It was not a physical weight, but he could feel the power within it, and perhaps even a bludgeoning of intelligence. This was his greatest hope and fear all at once, something that would tell him the truth, unafraid of his reaction, about a single question that had plagued him since his grandfather perished and passed the throne onto him, even since he won the Great Council that gave him his crown: Was he worthy to be king?

The question echoed inside him, and with a deep breath, he realised that the answer truly was important. And so, he put the ring on his finger.

The first thing that he felt was the warmth; it was comforting at first, and yet it had gotten hotter and hotter with every moment, almost scalding even, and yet, he could not remove it, for he felt completely and utterly bare before it. For a moment, he thought that he had failed, that he was not a worthy king, that his passive nature, his fear of his own choices, showed him that he was not. Oh, how he wished that things were different, that he was different, unburdened with his hesitation, that he would be more resolute, more decisive… To be the dragon that he was always meant to be…

To his surprise, the moment that he came to this thought, the heat began to fade away, returning once more to its comforting levels, almost beating alongside his heartbeat, and spreading across his body. Viserys knew, at this moment, deep in his heart, that the ring had found him worthy, and the pride that he felt at this was far greater than any he ever had in his life, more aware, perhaps. Most importantly, the invisible weight that he had held on his shoulder ever since he sat on the Iron Throne disappeared, and Viserys felt unburdened in a way that he had not for a long time.

Perhaps it was a mistake, perhaps he was not worthy, yet Viserys swore that he would ensure that he would make that chance smaller and smaller, that he would ensure that the Seven Kingdoms prospered under his rule without Harry Potter's involvement, but his own.

It was time for the world to see the rule of Viserys the Peaceful.

He looked up to thank the sorcerer, only to see that the seat was empty. Despite the situation, the King smiled fondly before chuckling and shaking his head. He looked up to the window and spoke, "Farewell, Harry Potter."

He continued to stare at the sky until he saw the silhouette of a dragon in the distance, and he smiled. Perhaps he should first share this with the last remnant of his grandfather's legacy, Vermithor, the Bronze Fury. After all, it had been some time since they flew together.

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Of the Great Heirlooms of House Targaryen

By Archmaester Baelor of King's Landing

Much like many houses in the Seven Kingdoms, the royal family has had many heirlooms that have been passed down from generation to generation to this day. Some of these are known quite well, such as Blackfyre and Dark Sister, the Valyrian Steel swords of House Targaryen. There is also a lesser-known Valyrian Steel dagger, said to have belonged to Aegon the Conqueror himself, that had been passed down from King to heir since the Conquest.

Yet, while it is normal that a family as powerful and as wealthy as House Targaryen would have countless treasures that would be passed down, it is rare that there are ones that they would not allow others to examine in any way, even other members of their house, this humble author included.

This goes to one of the greatest mysteries of House Targaryen, perhaps even within them, namely the nature of what is colloquially known as the Dragon's Ring. The ring itself was seemingly made with Star Steel, the mysterious metal that Ice, House Stark's ancestral weapon, is made of, with a blue jewel within it. None this day knows of its origin, but we know for certain that it had been worn by Viserys the Peaceful, given certain accounts, though it might have preceded it. Not a single king had ever allowed another to wear it, not ever, and it seemed to be passed down from king to heir briefly.

Most postulate that this mysterious ring was a magical focus of some sort, or at least, magical in nature, though none was willing to reveal its nature, even those who had stopped wearing it, at least, for a short time, as they could. The closest we came to an answer was during the reign of Aenar Targaryen, who had suddenly stopped wearing the ring and became angry at its sheer mention. He did not elaborate, for soon after, he fell from his horse while hunting when it was startled by a serpent, and he perished from a head wound soon after. The ring was found to be worn by his heir, Daemon Targaryen, during the funeral.

To this day, perhaps none more than two people know of the ring's true nature: the King and his heir, and yet, its legend continues, turning into a myth of sorts, one that claims good fortune for the king who wears it and curses whoever doesn't. Perhaps it is a coincidence, perhaps it is magic, perhaps it is neither fortune nor curse, but a relic whose legend has grown far beyond its true nature over the centuries.

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AN: I'm not sure about this chapter, to be honest. I wanted it to be something of a new beginning for Viserys, finally moving on after realising that Harry is leaving. As much as he had changed, Viserys was a passive person by design and wanted to avoid conflict; his rule, while prosperous, was not because of his decisions or actions. A lot of what goes on in his realm, and the many things that Helaena deals with in the background, are completely unknown to him. I wanted this to be a shift into him finally becoming a king, with the ring giving him the validation he always needed.

As most of you probably noticed, we're nearing the end of the story, so if you want to see some other loose ends being tied up or any particular chapters for this story, please let me know in the comments. I already started working on a sequel, which will take place in the Star Wars universe, which I'm very excited about. As usual, please let me know what you think and if you have any suggestions.

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I tend to upload drafts of early chapters on there to get people's opinions on them, so you can read up to 20 chapters ahead as a bonus.

Thank you guys for your support in these hard times.