Chapter Text
She once asked her mother what love was. She, like every child, assumed that her parents were in love when they married. They seemed like they were in love when she saw them. They smiled together. Laughed together. Held hands. Kissed each other gently. That gentleness had to be love, right?
Her mother said love was happiness. It was being in the presence of the one you love and feeling nothing but happy and content.
She wonders then if it was really love if all it did was make her feel horrible. If it only made her angry and want and want and want. Love was meant to be selfless and beautiful. Then how can this ugly feeling be love?
Rhaenyra does not see him after that night. She barred her door once more and pretended to be too ill (or not really because she was ill) to meet him in the Pit and for her lessons. He granted her the mercy and stayed away. She did not know if that made her happy.
Some days, she wished he would burst in her room at night and demand her to speak out the words she kept forcing down.
Some days, she wishes she could hear his voice again. She wishes she could talk to him again about anything. About the little things he would say and the way he would ask her about her own life.
Some days, she ached to just see him. She did not need to fly with him. Or speak with him. Or have him look at her. She wanted to look at him.
She was almost glad she was sick. Too sick to move from her bed on most days. Her maids fretted around. Maesters coming in and going out. Laena stayed by her and kept her company. She almost asked about him. She wanted to know if he was sick as well. If he was suffering like she was.
He hoped he was.
He hoped this sickness was driving him insane. He hoped he was so ill he could not get up from his own bed.
He hoped he was sick of not seeing her like she was.
Laena looked worried as she wiped her forehead.
“The Maesters are working hard. They will find a way.”
Rhaenyra was too tired to say she did not want help.
She wanted-
She feels hands caressing her face. Slowly wiping her forehead and singing softly. A voice too rough to be Laena’s. A valyrian song. Laena did not speak Valyrian. She did not have the fluency that Rhaenyra did now.
Only one person spoke Valyrian to her.
“Daemon.” She whispers.
She opens her eyes to see him smile at her. He looked healthy. His skin was not pale like it was when she saw him a few weeks ago. He smiled at her softly. Lovingly.
She leaned into his touch. It had to be okay. This was a dream. It was okay to want him in a dream. She’d forget it when she woke up.
“You look terrible.” He says.
“I thought you said I was always beautiful.”
A huff of laughter, Rhaenyra smiles at that.
“You are. Even now when you are pale and weak you are stunning. No one could compare.”
“Flattery.”
“Truth. I never lie to you. I’ve never once lied to you.”
“Hmmm.” Doesn’t know if he is telling the truth. Doesn’t care. Is too bothered by how much it hurts . Her head. Her body. Everywhere. Feels like it was burning.
“It hurts.” She whispers. “I’m burning.”
“I know, little dragon.” His eyes turned sad, his hands once again softly caressing her face and hair. “But fire cannot kill a dragon.”
“It will kill me. I know it. I made sure of it.”
“Did you now?”
“Yes. It will kill me. And you.”
“Is that so? Do you regret it?”
“I… don’t know. I just want it to stop hurting. I want my mother.”
“My brave girl,” he whispers. “Do you want me to make it stop? The pain?”
“Yes.” she breathes. “Will I die?”
“My Rhaenyra,” his voice is so tender when he says her name. “You and I are bound for life. You are never leaving me.”
Doesn’t register the vial in his hands. Doesn’t feel it as he puts it against her lips and coaxes her to drink it. Simply drifts off to sleep at the sound of his voice. Singing to her again a Valyrian song that she has never heard before.
She wakes the next day and remembers.
It was a dream. She was sure of it. He looked too healthy.
It was a dream.
She expects her sickness to get worse. She expects the pain to worsen until it takes her. She was ready to see her family again. She wanted her mother.
Except that she did not get what she wanted.
She got better .
She did not understand. It made no sense why she would get better. She made sure she took the right poison. Every night, with her cake or wine or something else that they were both served. She ate it. Even if she knew she would die, she took it every single day. Even as slowly it became harder and harder to drop the poison inside their drinks or their food. She still did it.
So why was she still alive?
Laena looked so happy to see her getting better. She smiled and hugged her. Thanked the Gods, old and new and even the Valyrian pantheon, for it.
“You never know which one is real. Might as well thank them all.” She shrugged.
Rhaenyra would laugh if it weren’t for the fact that she couldn’t. This was terrible. She was getting well.
“What happened?” She asked.
“Some cook in the kitchen.” Laena scowled. “He poisoned you and the King over many moons. Slowly! Ha! Traitor.” She sneered. “You need not worry, your grace. The King said the cook will be punished as a traitor.”
Rhaenyra swallows down her bile. She smiles at Laena uneasily as her cousin smiles at her brightly, unaware of the torment that she was facing herself. She wanted to scream. She did not want to smile and pretend to be happy when an innocent kitchen cook was being sentenced to death because of her.
It was right on the tip of her tongue. She could say it right now.
She kept on smiling as Laena recounted to her everything that happened.
She wonders if it was truly a dream.
She prays it was. Cannot imagine if it was anything else.
Prays that he was not the one who fed her the antidote. Does not even want to think about how he knows which poison she was feeding him. Or how he looked so healthy. Wonders when he knew about the poison and when he started to take the antidote.
Did he want to see her suffer?
Was that why he hesitated for so long before giving her the antidote?
He visits her again at night. But this time she is sure it is not a dream but reality. She is lucid now. She knows this is reality and not a dream.
“Darling.” He greets, a bright smile on his face as if he is truly greeting his wife and not someone who tried to kill him, and probably almost succeeded, once more.
“Husband.” She greets coldly.
“No name? Last time I was here you called me by my name.”
No dream then. She willed herself to not flush with embarrassment. She remembers bits and pieces of it. She does not want to remember more than what she does. Better to pretend it never happened.
“I thought it was a dream.”
“You dream of me often then? You sounded so pleased. Almost as good as when you kissed me.”
Now she did flush. She did not want to remember… how it felt like to touch him. How it felt like to kiss him. It felt like she was burning, but unlike the burning of the poison which she wanted to run from, that was the fire she would willingly embrace. That fire would not burn her.
Fire cannot kill a dragon.
“You kissed me.” She snapped.
“We can debate on that if you want. How you kissed me back. How you wanted me to kiss you. Only if you want to, of course dearest. I don’t want you to tax yourself. You are still so unwell.”
“And why do you think that is?” She snarled at him.
“Will you blame me for your own doings? It was not I who poisoned you. It was you.”
“So you know.”
“Of course I know.”
“You should have killed me. You should have let me die.”
“Oh Rhaenyra,” he sighed, walking over to where she was and sitting down beside her. He leaned in, pulling her closer to him. Rhaenyra could feel her heartbeat faster. “Dying is so easy. It’s the coward’s way out. You are going to live. You are going to live to torment and love me for the rest of our lives together.”
“I don’t love you.”
“Don’t you?” he smirked.
She swallows.
Love.
She does not love him.
She cannot love him.
“I hate you.” She whispers.
“ My little dragon,” he leans his head against hers, noses touching, lips almost touching. “You will find that there is a very thin line separating love and hate. There is no one else for you to love but me. I am all you have now, Rhaenyra.”
He asks her to ride with him. Not summons. Never orders her. Leaves it up to her to choose.
She hates this.
Wants to go but doesn’t want to see him. Cannot see him after what happened the last time she saw him. Feels helpless because it is the truth. He is all she has. Rhaenys is not hers. Laena is not hers.
He is hers.
And she is his.
She ignores every single one of his invites.
“Laena?”
“Yes, your grace?”
“What would you do if you were me?”
“I… I apologise your grace I do not understand..”
“If he killed your father and Laenor. If you were me. What would you do?”
Silence.
“I would want revenge.”
Rhaenyra sighs.
“I would also look for happiness. Or whatever is close to it. I am not you, Rhaenyra. You are not me. You will not do what I would and I will not do what you would do. We are different people.”
She wakes up that morning and decides to visit the Pit. It has been a long time since she has seen her girl. She misses her. Does not care if he is there as long as she gets to see Syrax.
Dresses up in her riding gear and rides out to see her dragon. Feels like laughing and crying when she sees Syrax who roars when she sees Rhaenyra.
Whispers apologies to her for ignoring her for so long.
Does not realize that she is not alone anymore until he speaks up.
“A race?”
She turns to see him. Dressed in his own riding gear, he looks pleased to see her.
She wants to refuse him. She just wants to fly but not with him.
She opens her mouth.
“Yes.”
A wager again. She was too sick to continue her lesson so she could pick something else.
She was sick only a while ago.
She didn’t expect to win.
She won.
Doesn’t know if Syrax felt her desperation to win at this because she needed this. She needed to win for herself. Her dragon answers her call and flapping her wings faster, freezing winds against her face that Rhaenyra knows is not going to help her get well.
She lands a few seconds before he does.
“Well my love,” he smiles. “What is it you want?”
Your head, she could say.
Freedome, she could say.
You.
“Are you sorry?” She asks instead.
He looked curious at that. Does not understand what she means.
Does not explain herself and simply waits. It only takes him a few more minutes to understand. She can see as he realizes what she means.
Is he sorry for killing everyone she loved?
“Do you want me to tell you the truth or lie?”
One would be merciful. The other would not.
“You said you never lied to me.”
“Then I’ll say the truth. I am not sorry. I wanted the throne and the realm so I took it.”
She knew what he would say. She knew it and yet it hurt. So she marched up to him and slapped him.
He did not stop her. Did not look angry or frustrated. Simply accepts it.
“I will never forgive you.” She whispered.
“I do not need your forgiveness.”
“What do you want from me?” She begged him. She needed to know what it would take for him to stop tormenting her.
“You know what I want.”
Desire.
Love.
Her.
Maybe he was right. Maybe she was meant to torment him for the rest of his life.
But maybe he was meant to torment her as well.
Receives another gift from him once they resume her lessons. This time he gives it to her personally.
Holds the necklace of dark steel and red ruby in his hand to show it to her.
“Do you know what it is?” He asks.
She touches it softly, reverently. Knows what it is before he even thought to ask her.
“Valyrian steel. Like Dark Sister.” She whispers.
She tries to take it from him before he pulls it away.
She looks at him angrily. Was he teasing her?
He smiles amused, “turn around.”
She turns around, brushing her hair over her shoulder and unclasps the golden chain she was wearing.
Feels the weight of the cold metal on her neck as he slowly clasps it on her.
“Now we both have pieces to connect us to our history.”
Says nothing as his touch lingers on the back of her neck.
Feels it for hours after. Even when he leaves.
Wishes he touched her more .
She receives a letter inviting her to a wedding.
Wedding of Alicent Hightower.
She stares at it for a while. Stares at the words her dearest friend wrote asking her to come see her marry.
We talked about this day for years. Do you remember? It’s here now. I wish you were here too.
Does not hesitate to reply that she will be there. She will fight armies if needed to see her friend marry. This is all Alicent dreamt of. Marriage, husband, children. She was on her way to achieve her dreams and Rhaenyra would be damned if she didn’t get to witness it.
Informs him that she will be traveling to Oldtown for the wedding.
He looks displeased. She knows he does not like the Hightowers. Visenya and Maegor hated the Faith. But he accepted that they were a powerful House and would allow them their freedom as long as they didn’t try to push their Faith on him.
“We shall go together.” He tells her.
“You wish to go with me?” She was surprised.
“You think I will let my wife go to the nest of vipers alone? No. We go together.”
She does not say anything. As long as she can see Alicent again that’s what matters.
She nearly cries when she sees Alicent again. She looks so beautiful. She was glowing with happiness when she saw Rhaenyra. Barely curtsied before Rhaenyra pulls her into her arms. Does not care what the crowd thinks. Or what anyone thinks.
She missed her only friend.
When she looks at Alicent again, she sees her crying.
“Silly girl, why are you crying?”
She laughs at her and hugs her again.
She spends all her time with Alicent. She lets her husband do the politicking. She does not care about it. She only cares about Alicent. Sees her in her wedding dress and smiles. Dances with her to prepare her for her wedding feast. Gossips with her as if they were little girls once again.
She was happy.
Daemon never asks for her.
But he looks. He looks and looks.
Sometimes when she looks back at him
He looks at her so softly.
He looks at her like she is the sun.
But it is her who turns her gaze away because it hurts.
She sees her friend marry and she wants to cry. She might have shed a few tears. Alicent looked so beautiful in her white dress. She looked so happy as she looked at her now husband. No shred of unhappiness on her face. Exactly how a bride should be at her wedding.
Nothing like her in her mourning black and hate filled heart.
She smiles brightly when Alicent looks at her, wishing nothing but happiness for her. Let her not feel the misery that Rhaenyra felt.
“Are you unhappy?” Alicent asks her.
“I do not know.” She says.
She doesn’t really know anymore. She used to be angry, furious and so, so sad. Now… she does not know.
“Well,” Alicent smiles softly. “It’s better than nothing.”
A moment of silence.
“Is he cruel to you?”
She thinks.
Dragon rides. Valyrian lessons. Daggers.
Touches the necklace on her neck.
“No.”
They return to their daily lives. Both of them are far too busy after being away for almost a moon. Piles of work on both their desks that have them unable to see each other often or see their dragons.
It is the first time she was not seeing him due to work. Not because she did not want to.
She eats dinner alone. Sometimes, Laena joins her. She talks with Laena and she thinks.
She wishes it was him.
A much needed break after days and days of work.
She goes to see Syrax and sees him with Caraxes. He turns to look at her.
She does not say how she feels an overwhelming sense of something when she sees him again. When he sees her and smiles at her happily.
“Race?” She asks.
He grins.
A loss.
Both of them sitting down on the shores of Dragonstone.
They never venture inside the Keep. It wasn’t home to either of them really. Perhaps it should be.
But it wasn’t.
It would be home to the future Crown Prince.
If there was ever one.
“What do you want?” She asks him.
He looks at her for a while. Long enough for her to turn to look at him. Does not know what he is looking for in her face.
“Do you love me?” He asks.
She stops breathing.
Love. She once asked her mother what love is. She said love was content and happiness.
She knows love. Knows the love of a father and a mother. Of a brother and a sister.
But what does it mean to love a man? In the books and poems she used to read, it is described in beautiful words. Butterflies in one's stomach. The world seemed more beautiful. You hear music. Load of poetic rubbish. Rubbish she once believed was true. Words she believed were true as a child.
She was no longer a child. She did not believe in fairytales anymore. She does not think love is just feeling content and happy. She thinks love is also feeling anger and helplessness. It’s wanting someone so much that you feel like you cannot breathe if you’re not near them. It’s burning constantly.
Or maybe, that was just love for her.
She does not answer him.
The next time she wins, she asks him the same question.
“Do you love me?”
“As much as someone like me can love someone.”
She wonders later what that means.
Does he mean as much as possible from a person? Or does he mean as much as a monster like him could care for someone?
Hating is easier than love.
She still has not answered his question when she opens the door again.
This time she has no dagger in her hand.
This time it’s just her.
He sits on his bed, a book in his hand and looks up to see her. Sees no weapon on her and tilts his head. Looks at her and waits.
She walks towards him and stands in front of him.
“I want..” she hesitates.
He closes the book and sits up. Even sitting down on the bed he was almost her height. She could not look down at him.
“What do you want?” he asks.
She wonders if she should walk away.
Hate is easier than love.
Desire is much easier than both.
“You.”
Daemon pulls her down towards him.
She starts to spend more nights with him. She cannot stop it. She crossed this line and now there’s no coming back.
Now all she can think about is his lips on hers. His hands touching her. The peak that she could never reach with just her own hands. The way he whispers her name.
All she can think about is him.
She wonders if he burns like she does. If he cannot wait for the sun to set so that he can find his way to her.
“Do you love Harwin?” She asks Laena.
Today she flew with her cousin. They were on a small patch of island near Driftmark, both of them lying on the sand and staring up at the sky.
Laena’s father, Corlys, has started to look for a husband for her daughter. Especially when the rumors were already circulating that the Queen frequents the King’s bed. Ever since one of her maids came to wake her up and saw her bed was empty. Was frantic and alerted the guards who alerted the King, only to find out the Queen was in his bed.
There was no child yet. Corlys could still push.
But the man had pride. And Laena was a noble lady wanted by many.
But she seemed to want the captain of the Gold Cloaks.
“I do.”
She says it so easily. As if admitting it was as easy as breathing.
Rhaenyra tells her so.
Laena laughs.
“Love is easy. It is one of the easiest things in the world. It is us who makes it complicated.”
She makes every thought in Rhaenyra’s head sound stupid.
“Do you think they’ll forgive me?” She asks.
Laena stops laughing. She looks at her with pity and understanding. She holds her hand.
“I think they love you Rhaenyra. And when you love someone you wish for nothing but their happiness.”
She wonders if her family would truly be happy. If her father and mother would be happy that she beds a monster. If her brother would be disappointed in her. If they would all think she is a monster for feeling like this for a monster.
She thinks and thinks late at night as her husband sleeps beside her.
She wakes up one morning before he does. A rare occurrence seeing that her husband was always awake before the sun was up.
She watches him sleep. Traces his features with her fingers as the sunlight slowly filters into th-his room.
Watches as he stirs in his sleep, frowning and then slowly waking up. Eyes blinking lazily, a soft yawn before his gaze focuses on her.
She sees his eyes light up when he sees her.
He smiles.
“Ask me again.” She tells him.
Another day. Another race. Another loss.
Sand underneath them. The setting sun. Orange and red sky.
She waits for him to understand what she means. Sees him realize what she means and sees his smile.
“Do you love me?” He asks.
She agonized over this for so long. It ripped her apart. Caused her pain.
She finds that saying it was much easier than keeping it hidden.
Easier than desire.
Easier than hate.
“As much as someone like me can love someone.”
As much as it was possible for one to love someone.
As much as it was possible for someone as selfish and horrible to love someone.
She looks down at the beach and smiles. Doesn’t hear what they are saying but she can hear their laughter.
Doesn’t realize she is not alone until she heard the question.
“Are you happy?”
She looks at Alicent, dressed in blue and smiling at her. She looks back down at the beach. She sees Daemon with a wooden sword and their daughter with another. Sees her husband laugh while their daughter tries to hit him. Sees her son on the side with Laena’s children cheering for the ones they support.
The answer was so easy.
“Yes.”
Alicent beams at her.
Below them, her daughter stomps back towards her brother, dejected but still determined, while her husband shakes his head.
He looks towards where she is and he smiles.
She smiles back.