Chapter Text
“Joffrey, follow me.” Rhaenyra urged as they made their way to the Dragonpit. After the death of Helaena the city had risen up in revolt, led by a man known as the Shepherd. He had called her a kinslayer and declared dragons to be monstrous abominations who only brought death and ruin. The people of the city who had once loved her were now calling for her head. She had to leave and so she took Joffrey and fled. The plan was simple, Rhaenyra and Joffrey would blend into the crowds and use one of the secret entrances to the Dragonpit to mount their dragons and leave. If the smallfolk got too close, Rhaena would defend them with Sheepstealer, or at least buy them enough time so that they could escape. Once they reached the inside of the pit, Rhaena was waiting for them, her face blossoming with relief at seeing them.
“Rhaenyra!” Rhaena cried out as she hugged her. “I’m so relieved you two are okay. When the screams from outside started getting louder I feared the worst.”
“There’s no need to fret Rhaena. Me and your brother are fine.”She said as she returned the embrace. “I trust everything has been prepared?”
“Yes, the dragonkeepers have saddled Syrax for two and she’s ready to fly. Tyraxes will follow behind his bonded, proven the weather is not too difficult.” Rhaena explained. Her hair had been cut short during her stay at the Vale, after Sheepstealer had accidentally burnt off a good chunk of it. Rhaenyra thought it suited her nicely.
“Thank you for everything Rhaena, I owe you a great debt. Once I reunite with Baela in Dragonstone I will return to King’s Landing.” Rhaenyra promised.
“Thank you, Your Grace. Stay safe.” The girl gave her one last hug before heading towards her dragon.
Rhaenyra approached Syrax and caressed her snout, before helping Joffrey get on the saddle. As the boy climbed up, she heard the screams closer and closer.
“Aelys! Skoros issa sda’etúshnos hen tolie zaldrīzi rȳ nopon?.” Aelys! What is the status of the other dragons in the pit?
“Aōha Grác'ætor, Dreamfyre emagon sagon ræs'dlæsshva th'ínkéā Dāria Helaena morghon. Zirȳ rōndaghon daor hēdraghon. Shrykos se Morghul emagon khíd'dénā rȳ uñdé'rhgrróuñdza dh'unnnëlthën. Tyraxes ilagon ao, yn ao emagon sȳndaghon lēda rȳzorysion.” Your Grace, Dreamfyre has been restless since Queen Helaena's death. She will obey no commands. Shrykos and Morghul have hidden in the underground tunnels. Tyraxes will follow you, but you must leave with haste.
Rhaenyra quickly climbed on the saddle, and started helping Joffrey get strapped to his saddle. Once she was sure she was secure she started securing her own straps but paused when she saw people starting to push their way into the pit.
“Syrax, jagon!” Syrax, go!
Syrax started running out of the dragonpit until she reached the entrance. There were people pushing and fighting against the Gold Cloaks blocking the way. It would be impossible to pass without crushing them.
“Jagon!” Go!
Syrax obeyed and heard the crunching of bones and the splatter of blood beneath her as Syrax squeezed herself out of the pit. For a few agonizing seconds all she could hear was people screaming as they were crushed to death under her dragon. Distantly, she could hear the voice of the Shepherd.
“Watch as the Bitch Queen murders her innocent subjects with your own eyes. How she uses her dragon as weapon to kill the innocent–”
His speech was cut off by a roar.
Syrax was finally outside. Rhaenyra contemplated burning the Shepherd herself but was interrupted by Rhaena shouting behind her.
“Rhaenyra, I’ll cover for you!” The girl declared as Sheepstealer let out a deafening roar. For a second, the crowd went quiet, intimidated by the sight of the older and intimidating dragon.
“Fear not, my good people! Dragons are animals, and like any other beasts they can be harmed and killed.”
The crowd seemed uneasy, until Tyraxes left the pit following behind his mother and let out a little chirp. The next moments were a blur. Rhaenyra thought she heard the crowd murmur. Someone shouted. And next thing she knew Tyraxes was screeching, with a dagger piercing his wing.
“Kill it!”
Rhaenyra watched in horror as the crowd descended upon the poor hatchling and started pelting it with rocks, and attacking it with knives, daggers, anything the crowd could get their hands on. Joffrey screamed in terror and quickly started undoing his fastenings in order to help his dragon, but Rhaenyra stopped him as soon as she noticed.
“No, Joffrey, stay with me.” Rhaenyra saw her sons face covered in tears and her rage boiled over. “Dracarys!”
Syrax started burning the people attacking Tyraxes, causing the crowd to flee and partially disperse. It was too late however, and her son’s hatchling lay limp on the ground, its body covered in wounds and blood. How she wished to comfort her boy, but as soon as the crowd turned to them Rhaenyra knew it was time to go.
“Sōvegon.” Rhaenyra commanded and Syrax took to the skies. As she was finally getting some distance from the crowd, she heard another scream. She looked back and her face twisted with horror as she saw Joffrey dangling from the saddle, holding on to the fastenings as his foot was yanked back by a peasant boy. The Queen leaned back and held her hand out for her son. “Hold on to me.”
Joffrey held her hand, and Rhaenyra twisted towards the back of the saddle to help him up, but her own fastenings were holding her back. She was about to give Syrax the command to burn the peasant who dared grab her son, when Syrax’s wing was pierced by an arrow, making the dragon let out a screech of pain. The distraction was enough to embolden more smallfolk, and soon enough there were multiple people grabbing at Joffrey, trying to rip him out of the saddle. Rhaenyra’s head was swimming, her grip on her son tightening each second. If she commanded Syrax to burn the peasants she risked harming her son as well. The smallfolk then started to sink their blades and spears into Syrax’s chest, causing the beast to roar in pain. Syrax started spitting fire and flying upwards, trying her best to shake them off. Sheepstealer breathed flames unto the smallfolk as well, relieving some of Syrax’s burden. It was for naught however, as the more they went up, the harder they pulled Joffrey down.
“Joff, hold on, please!” Rhaenyra begged, desperation in her voice. Her face was streaked with tears, her muscles aching with the force she was holding on with.
“Muña I’m scared.” Joffrey begged, trying in vain to hold on to the saddle.
“It’s okay, mummy’s here–”
Her grip slipped and Joffrey fell.
At first there was silence. Then a woman spoke up.
“Is he alive?”
Then another.
“He must be. The fall was not too long.”
Then another.
“What shall we do with him?”
Another.
“He’s a prince of royal blood, he’ll fetch a pretty ransom.” The man grabbed her son.
“And why should you get the ransom? We helped get him down too!” Another man grabbed Joffrey, yanking him up.
“I helped too!”
Soon enough the smallfolk were swarming the boy, yanking him from limb to limb every which way. Soon enough the crowd became violent again, and Rhaenyra was forced to stay in the air, lest she burn her son alive. And so, the Queen was forced to watch in terror as the smallfolk grabbed her boy, her sweet son, and ripped him to shreds. She let out a visceral scream and gave Syrax a single command.
“Dracarys!” Syrax made quick work of the smallfolk despite her wounds, dozens of people screaming in anguish as dragonfire consumed them. Her sweet son was dead, and her own people had killed him. She wanted to kill the Shepherd himself, burn all of his followers alive and force him to watch, before feeding him to Syrax.
“Your Grace! You must leave!” Rhaena shouted, bringing Rhaenyra out of her fantasy. “There are more people coming and Syrax is wounded. I’ll protect the dragons, please just get yourself to safety.”
Rhaenyra hesitated. She wanted to kill every single person responsible for her son’s death. She wanted them all to suffer. But if she fell now, it would all be for naught. She had lost everything, the last thing she had was her crown, and she could not afford to lose that too. She nodded to Rhaena and used the last of her willpower to command Syrax to leave for Dragonstone. As they flew away from King’s Landing, Rhaenyra’s grief hit her full force and she started openly wailing for her son. Syrax shared in her grief, letting out a long mournful croon.
_____________________
The Queen stood in front of Baela Targaryen’s chambers, dressed in a fine black dress embroidered with Myrish lace and rubies. Beside her was Ser Lorent, her sworn shield, who opened the doors and announced her entrance.
“Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen, first of her name.” He announced, and Rhaenyra stepped into the room to get a good look at her stepdaughters.
She was relieved to see Rhaena and Baela were safe. Rhaena was wearing a red dress with pearls sewn onto the bodice, whilst Baela was wearing her black riding leathers. Curiously, Baela had cut her hair short, her silver curls falling just below her ears.
“My girls.” Rhaenyra said, her voice wavering with emotion. “I’m so glad to see you both again, safe and unharmed.”
Rhaenyra opened her arms and the girls embraced their stepmother. The Queen was able to once more bask in the warmth of her family, and just for a second she imagined they were all back on Dragonstone, breaking their fast together, taking to the skies on their dragons and spending time as a family. Rhaenyra took a deep breath, trying to control her grief. She couldn’t afford to cry now, not when the twins needed her to be strong.
“I like your new hairstyle.” Rhaenyra said as she pulled away. “It suits you, Baela.”
“Thank you, Your Grace.” The girl’s cheeks darkened as she twirled a curl around her fingers. “My hair doesn't get on my face while I’m flying anymore. Also I’m matching with Rhaena now.” The girls laughed as they intertwined their arms together.
“I’m happy to hear you’re flying on Moondancer again. When I arrived on Dragonstone and you weren’t there I feared the worst.” The Queen confessed. “I must know, do you remember what your kidnappers looked like?”
“I can’t say that I do.” Baela said, her expression turning forlorn. “I was so scared. One moment I was sleeping peacefully in my room, and the next I was being dragged out by hooded men, bound and gagged. I would’ve called for Moondancer if they hadn’t blinded me as well.” The girl's voice shook as she tried to recall what happened that night. “Before they blinded me, I tried to get a look at their faces but they were wearing masks.”
“Masks? Do you remember what the masks looked like?” Rhaenyra asked.
“I think they were made of metal, I remember seeing the moonlight reflected on them. They were simply made too, they had no features except for a slit for the eyes to see through.”
Interesting. Masks made of metal meant the kidnappers were not some common bandits hoping to fetch a ransom, but rather they were likely hired by a nobleman to carry out their deeds.
“And their cloaks, were they made of fine materials or cheap linen?”
“I don’t remember, it was too dark to tell.” Baela frowned. “All I recall is that they wore brooches of some sort to fasten their cloaks.”
Brooches? Maybe to signify some sort of alliance? She would have to investigate this further.
“I see. And do you recall them saying anything that might give some hint as to who they were working for?”
“No, they were quiet during the whole ordeal. Strangely quiet.” Baela shifted uncomfortably. “All I heard was the shipwright giving them instructions on how to reach King’s Landing. Once we arrived they handed me over to Baratheon’s men. Ever since then I’ve not been allowed to leave this room.”
“Thank you, my dear. This information you have provided me is most useful.” Rhaenyra twisted her rings nervously before continuing. “I need to ask you one final question, both of you, and I only ask that you answer honestly and without fear.” She took a deep breath. “When Lord Baratheon’s men entered the city and locked you in your rooms, they did not… take any liberties with you did they?”
“No, Your Grace.” Rhaena responded. “While we were prisoners in all but name, we were still treated with dignity. We had maids to tend to our needs and bring us food, and the Dowager Queen made sure we were bathed, fed and clothed every day. The Grand Maester also came to tend to my wounds after Sheepstealer was slain.” When the girl finished talking she reached for the necklace around her neck, and Rhaenyra realized it held a scale of Sheeptealer’s hide.
“It is the same for me. I was not touched inappropriately during my trip to King’s Landing.” Baela replied.
Rhaenyra felt as though she could breathe again. She was afraid the worst had come to pass, and if anyone had dared hurt her girls she would have them tortured and fed to Syrax.
“I’m very relieved to hear that. My biggest fear when Baratheon’s army reached the city was that harm would befall you, so I’m happy that did not come to pass.” Rhaenyra spoke. “There are some very important things I would like to discuss with you two.”
The girls looked at her expectantly and Rhaenyra continued.
“Firstly, I would like to thank Rhaena for defending the Dragonpit, and by extension our legacy. What you did was an incredible act of bravery, one in which you were forced to pay the ultimate price.” Rhaenyra stated. She could not imagine how painful it must be to lose your dragon, to lose a part of you forever. “You also helped me escape, and saved my life, for which you have my eternal gratitude. While I would never dare to replace your dragon, I ordered the dragonkeepers to bring you the warmest eggs from Syrax’s latest clutch, for you to choose as you wish.”
Rhaena smiled then. Rhaenyra watched as the girl moved towards the hearth, where a single egg was placed on the brazier. It was a bright pink with black swirls.
“I did receive them. I will always treasure my bond with Sheepstealer, but–” the girl bit her lip, conflicted.” But I do miss it. After not having a dragon all my life, when I finally bonded with Sheepstealer I felt as though a missing part of my soul came back to me. And when I lost him, I felt that very part shrivel and die, and an ugly feeling replaced it.” Rhaena wiped a few tears from her eyes with her sleeves. “When the dragonkeepers brought the eggs and I saw this one I just knew. I felt it in my bones, this egg was meant for me. Each day I pray to the Gods it will hatch, and each day I feel it getting warmer.”
“I’m happy to hear that, dear girl. I am glad you chose this egg and Gods willing, you will have a dragon again.” Rhaenyra waited for the girl to come back before continuing. “Onto the next announcement. I intend to name Jaehaera my heir, and you will be second and third in line to the throne. I intend to call a ceremony to name you three my heirs and name you Princesses of the realm.”
The Queen waited for the twins to take the information in.
“Your Grace.” Baela spoke as she stood. “It is truly an honor. I have no words.”
“Likewise.” Rhaena stood up. “Thank you for honoring us this way.”
The girls were about to bow to her before Rhaenyra waved them off and stopped them.
“Please, just call me Rhaenyra.” The Queen explained. “I would like for you two to keep thinking of me as your stepmother. You two have always been my daughters and that will never change, even if I am Queen.” Rhaenyra started fiddling with her rings. “I would not be opposed to you calling me mother if you wish, I would welcome it in fact. I would never presume to replace your lady mother, my dear Laena, but if you wish for another motherly figure I will always welcome you with open arms.”
The twins looked at each other then. A silent conversation seemed to pass between them and Rhaenyra swallowed nervously. Then Rhaena slowly stepped closer to Rhaenyra.
“I would like that… Mother.” Rhaena said, smiling shyly. Baela stepped up next to her sister, and held her hand.
“I would like to call you Mother too.” Baela responded.
Rhaenyra couldn’t hold in her happiness and stepped forward to embrace the girls in a hug. The twins were shocked for a second before returning the embrace in full force. Rhaenyra started tearing up. She felt happy once more, being welcomed by her daughters. As she pulled back she caressed Baela and Rhaena’s faces, her eyes full of love and affection.
“My girls, I’m so happy to have you back.” As she wiped her tears away she gathered her composure. “I still have some announcements left. First is the topic of marriage.” She straightened her spine. “My council may advise me to marry one of you off to lords loyal to the Greens for the sake of peace, and marry one of you to a Lord loyal to me as a way of rewarding them. I will tell you now I am not allowing either of these things to happen.”
The twins seemed surprised before she continued.
“My marriage to your uncle was purely political. We cared for each other deeply, but we were not compatible. I do not wish for you to suffer the same fate.” Rhaenyra sighed. “That is why I shall let you pick a spouse of your own choosing. I know it is not traditional for omegas to choose who they marry, but as my children and heirs to the throne you will be given a choice. I will also grant you a period of one year to decide and begin courting who you want.” She paused. “Unless one of you already has somebody in mind?”
Baela’s cheeks darkened once more and Rhaena started giggling next to her.
“Oh, my sister definitely has someone in mind.” Rhaena teased.
“Rhaena!” Baela cried out, shocked at her sister’s betrayal. The two girls glared at each other until they burst out in laughter, unable to stay mad at each other. “There is someone I’ve had in mind for a while now.”
“That’s great! Am I familiar with him?” Rhaenyra asked. Rhaena started giggling again and Baela playfully slapped her arm.
“Yes. It’s Alyn.” Baela responded, unable to meet Rhaenyra’s gaze.
“Your uncle?” Rhaenyra was the last person to judge considering her own marriage to her uncle, but she was curious about the relationship between the two. Baela nodded.
“We became close after he took Grandfather’s place in the council. Whenever I felt alone after Jace died, I would seek him out and talk to him. Sometimes about the war, most of the time about mundane things.” Baela reminisced. “He told me about his childhood and growing up in Hull, and I told him stories about Pentos and about flying on dragonback. He was always kind and respectful towards me, he never wanted anything back and was content just to listen to me talk for hours.” Baela was smiling now. “When I was brought to this room, he was enraged and almost broke down the door trying to free me! He stood outside the whole night, refusing to leave until he knew I was safe. I heard the only reason he left is because the Dowager Queen herself swore no harm would come to me.”
“It sounds like he really cares about you.” Rhaenyra responded.
“I think so too. I would like for him to court me, if I have your permission.”
“You do. After the ceremony establishing you as my heirs, I will organize a meeting between Corlys and Alyn to let them know the good news. Until then, you may continue to see him as you please, as long as you are accompanied by a chaperone of course. I am sure he will not refuse a lady as wonderful as you.” Rhaenyra stated.
Corlys’ heir and the future Lord of Driftmark, it was hardly a bad match. Not to mention he had always been one of Rhaenyra’s staunchest supporters, and had given her wise counsel when Corlys had stepped back as Hand. But above all, he was kind and loyal, and Rhaenyra wanted nothing but the very best for her daughter.
“Thank you, I’m looking forward to spending time with him again.” Baela was still blushing profusely and Rhaena was quietly giggling next to her.
“And you Rhaena? Has anybody caught your fancy?”
The girl looked down sadly and caressed Sheepstealer’s scale.
“No. After the Vale, coming back to King’s Landing and losing Sheepstealer, I’m afraid there’s not been much time for romance in my life.”
“Do not fret, you have been through many difficult trials during the course of the war.” Rhaenyra consoled her. “If you need time you shall have it.” Rhaena smiled and thanked her. “There is one last matter I wanted to address. We’ve lost many family members during this war, and I believe we should hold a funeral to honor all of them. It will be public, but it will not be a spectacle. The people of the city should know of the people who sacrificed their lives to bring us peace.”
“Father…” Baela whispered, and Rhaena moved to envelop her in a hug.
“I know sweetling. It will be difficult but we must endure. After the funeral is over the swearing of the oaths towards the new heir will occur, as well as your official installations as Princesses. I will send ravens towards all the Great Houses to arrive for the ceremony.” The Queen explained. “That is all for now, I think. I will send word to the servants to move your possessions back to your old rooms in the castle so you have more comfortable accommodations. For now, I will send only the most trusted soldiers of the City Watch to guard you, but as soon as I am able I will replace them with Kingsguard. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to send word, this is your home and you two should live as comfortably as you see fit.”
They hugged one last time and Rhaenyra bestowed a kiss on each of their cheeks, promising to spend more time with them once she was able.
“I love you too. Never forget that.”
The girls nodded and Rhaenyra departed the room with Ser Lorent following behind.
_____________________
Alicent read the parchment again and again, and yet the words remained the same. Her cousin Lyonel had written her back, and he was predictably not happy with Aegon’s decree. She set the letter down on her desk in frustration, the sound startling Jaehaera as she played with her dolls.
“Oh, I’m sorry dearest.” Alicent rushed over, worried the girl would start crying. Luckily, the Princess was in one of her calmer moods and just continued playing with her dolls.
“I’m fine mummy.” the girl responded.
Mummy.
Alicent tried to swallow the lump in her throat. Jaehaera had taken to calling her after Helaena died. She feared that the girl had forgotten her mother, though her rational mind told her the child was just grieving in her own way, and would grow out of it eventually. Still the fear grew. She had ruined all her children, and torn her family apart in the process. Aegon was a failure, Aemond was a monster, and Daeron, her sweet baby— she had tried to save him, to send him away to peace, and doomed him in the process. And her dear Helaena, her only daughter, the most innocent of her children, was forced to suffer the most. Tears started sliding down her cheeks and she couldn’t help out the sobs that escaped her as she mourned all that she had lost. She collapsed to the ground and almost hit her desk. It seems her grief didn’t go unnoticed as she felt a tug at her dress. Jaehaera was standing next to her, holding one of her dolls.
“Are you sad?’ The girl asked, looking at her curiously. Then she held out her doll and looked at her expectantly. “Here, you can have Falyse. She always cheers me up when I’m sad.”
“T-Thank you, my sweet girl.” Alicent grabbed the doll with shaking hands, trying and failing to hold back her tears. Jaehaera simply gave her a hug before going back to play with her toys. Alicent took a few deep breaths and grabbed the edge of the desk before slowly pulling herself up. Her vision was blurry but she could still make out the letters in the piece of parchment.
To Dowager Queen Alicent
You must think me a fool if you think for even one moment I will agree to your outrageous demands. Oldtown is mine by birth and by right, and the Hightower is my seat as much as it was mine own father’s before me and his own father’s before him. The usurper king is dead, and I have no obligation to follow your son’s orders under the new Queen’s regime. It is a shame that all the rumors about you and your father were true, you are a bunch of conniving snakes who grasp for power and tarnish House Hightower’s good name. I’d advise you to stop your scheming lest you want our good Queen to learn you want to strip one of her loyal bannermen from his birthright.
Signed, Lord Lyonel Hightower, Voice of Oldtown, Beacon of the South, Defender of the Citadel, and Lord of the Hightower
She breathed in and breathed out.
Breathe in.
Breathe out.
She wiped her tears with a handkerchief and started thinking. This letter was not her cousin’s word, at least not entirely. She had her suspicions that the Tarly whore who warmed his bed was dripping poison into Lyonel’s ears.
Her cousin was wrong, he was a fool. He didn’t know how deep the history between Rhaenyra and Alicent went. Decades of stolen glances, kissing in secluded corners and quiet love confessions under the moonlight. Alicent loved Rhaenyra, loved her so deeply and fiercely she could not imagine a life without her. And she knew her love was not one sided. As much as her father had warned her about Rhaenyra sinking her claws into her, he had never considered the opposite. The day that she and Rhaenyra had first confessed their love for each other, a seed had been planted in both their hearts. As the years passed, the seedlings grew and blossomed, like sunflowers during the summer. They eventually started falling and wilting, amongst all their fights and arguments, but they never died. The roots had completely enveloped Alicent’s heart, tightening and holding her in a chokehold.
Alicent was certain that Rhaenyra felt the same.
And if nothing else worked, she still had her trump card. Larys. Just thinking of the man made her shudder. She despised having to deal with him, but if he had any leverage she could use in her favor she would take it without hesitation. Before she could plot any further, the herald called for her.
“The Queen is here to you, your Grace.”
She straightened her dress and fixed up her hair before wiping the last of her tears away. Her dress was much simpler than the ones she usually wore, more akin to a nightgown than a proper court dress, but she figured it didn’t matter considering her history with the Queen.
“Enter.”
Rhaenyra stepped inside with her ever loyal Kingsguard by her side.
“Good morrow, your Grace..” Alicent tried to smile, but judging from Rhaenyra’s expression it came off more as a grimace.
“What happened?” Rhaenyra asked, concern written all over her face.
“I’ve just received troubling news.” Alicent responded. Her gaze was guarded, not wanting to give anything away.
“Leave us.” Rhaenyra commanded Ser Lorent, and the Kingsguard obliged. It wasn’t proper for an alpha and an omega to be in a room unchaperoned but as the Queen, Rhaenyra was above such formalities.
“What happened?” The Queen asked, approaching Alicent. It was then that she noticed her tear streaked face. “You have been crying.”
Alicent faltered. If she showed Rhaenyra the letter she would risk handing over valuable information that she could potentially save for later. On the other hand, if she showed Rhaenyra the letter now, before her cousin could talk to the Queen directly, she could try and twist his words in her favor. Evidently she took too long to answer because Rhaenyra frowned.
“Alicent?”
The Dowager Queen snapped out of it and made a decision.
“Has my cousin written to you?” Alicent asked.
“Lord Lyonel? No, there has been no news from Oldtown yet.” Rhaenyra responded.
“How curious.” Alicent walked over to her desk and grabbed the letter she had received, handing it over to Rhaenyra. “Because he has had plenty of time to share correspondence with me.”
Alicent watched carefully as Rhaenyra read the letter, and watched her expression. Rhaenyra’s frown only deepened as she finished reading.
“You have been corresponding with your cousin behind my back?” Rhaenyra asked, her tone accusatory.
“We have been corresponding since the second battle of Tumbleton, when I begged him to send aid to the villagers and retrieve Daeron’s corpse.” Rhaenyra tensed at the mention of her son, but for what reason Alicent was unsure. “I find it interesting to say the least that my cousin has enough time to exchange letters with me, but not enough time to declare his support for his Queen.”
“Are you implying he’s intentionally withholding his support?” Rhaenyra asked. “Why would he do such a thing?”
“There are a few things that come to mind. The first is obviously the royal decree. He’s known about it since Tumbleton, though I admit I made a mistake parting with such valuable information so easily.” Another one of her many mistakes. “My guess is that he’s waiting for you to rule in his favor before committing his full support.”
“But why would he do that? If I ruled in your favor he has nothing to bargain with.”
“It’s true he has nothing to bargain with, that is if you only count physical objects.” Alicent gave Rhaenyra a meaningful look.
“The High Septon’s blessing.” Rhaenyra realized. “You think your cousin bold enough to do such a thing?”
“Not my cousin, rather the woman who warms his bed.” Alicent clarified. “Samantha Tarly, daughter of Lord Donald Tarly and Lady Jeyne Rowan.”
“Both of those houses supported me during the war. Why would she scheme against me now?” Rhaenyra questioned.
“You are brilliant, Rhaenyra, but you fail to see the bigger picture. Lady Samantha is only eight and ten, she will not want to remain a widow forever. However, she has already tarnished herself by crawling into her stepson’s bed whilst her husband’s body is barely cold. She has no choice but to marry my cousin, but therein lies the problem.”
“The High Septon won’t accept their union. Stepmother and stepson relationships are considered incestuous by the faith.” Rhaenyra spoke. Then she stood up and started pacing. “They know that under normal circumstances the Faith would never accept such a union. The only one who could overrule the High Septon in cases like this was a King.”
“Or a Queen.” Alicent added.
“They are planning on withholding the High Septon’s blessing from me in exchange for me making an exception for them getting married, and keeping their castle.” Rhaenyra stopped pacing and looked at Alicent. “If this is true, then this is high treason against the crown.”
“Exactly.” Alicent went and grabbed Rhaenyra’s hands into her own, looking into her eyes. “They know that as long as they withhold the High Septon’s blessing your right to rule could be put into question, and now more than ever you need as many signs of legitimacy as you can have.”
“There’s just one thing I don’t understand. What’s stopping me from going on Syrax and demanding the High Septon anoint me as Queen? Surely they would take that into account.”
“They already have. Scorpions were built in Oldtown on my late cousin’s orders during the war. If dragons ever flew low enough to breathe dragonfire into the villages, they would be ready to fire. I have no doubt those scorpions are still there to this day, anticipating a visit from the Queen.” Alicent watched as Rhaenyra scowled.
“Do you have any contacts left in Oldtown?” Rhaenyra asked her. Alicent squeezed her hand and the Queen’s scowl softened a bit.
“Unfortunately, I do not. Ormund isolated me completely after he took Tumbleton.”
“No matter, I am sure I can manage to get some spies inside the Hightower. Perhaps one of Lady Samantha’s cousins can be obliged to aid their Queen to root out this treachery.” Rhaenyra declared.
“A fine idea. I have no doubt we will find out the truth sooner rather than late.” Alicent said as she rubbed Rhaenyra’s hand, a comforting gesture from their childhood. They just stood there, facing each other, and Alicen felt that familiar pull, telling her to kiss Rhaenyra again.
When their lips met this time it was much gentler than last time, none of the desperation and the hunger was present, only sweetness and satisfaction. She had missed Rhaenyra’s touch, she had always been such a gentle and selfless lover. As the kiss deepened, Alicent bit Rhaenyra’s lip and–
“Mummy?” Alicent nearly jumped in fright as she heard Jaehaera behind her. She was carrying a piece of parchment with a crude drawing of what appeared to be a butterfly. “I made it for you!” She said excitedly.
Alicent went red in the face at being discovered and Rhaenyra was not faring any better, stuttering through her sentence.
“G-Good morrow, Jaehaera. I only came to check and make sure you and Alicent were doing. Are you well?” Rhaenyra managed to blurt out, ashamed at being caught in a compromising position by her niece.
“Yes.” The girl nodded and hid behind Alicent’s skirts.
“She’s still a little shy…” Alicent explained.
“Not to worry, once she is declared my heir she will receive the proper education she needs. I’m sure she’ll come out of her shell, at her own pace.” Rhaenyra stated.
“I hope so too.” Alicent said as she ran a hand through the girl’s silver-gold hair. “Thank you for coming here Rhaenyra. I’m glad I was able to talk to you.”
“It was my pleasure, Alicent.”Rhaenyra said, though her smile faded. She seemed to have trouble looking at Alicent now. “The reason I came is to let you know there will be a funeral procession soon. Nothing too grand, just something to honor all those who have passed during the war.” Rhaenyra then took a deep breath. “You may bring an article of clothing or an object of valuable meaning from each of your loved ones. We plan to burn it all together in a pyre, in the Targaryen tradition.”
Oh.
Alicent couldn’t help but notice how Rhaenyra had said “loved ones” instead of “children”. Their children were still a sore subject between them. They had skirted around the topic as much as possible, only calling their children by name when completely necessary. Alicent understood, and so she could not blame Rhaenyra.
“Yes I think– I think that is a fine idea. Thank you, your Grace.” Alicent bowed.
Rhaenyra looked as though she wanted to say something, but thought better of it.
“I shall see you two soon. Rest well, Alicent.” The Queen bid them farewell and Alicent could only watch as the door closed and Rhaenyra was out of her grasp once more. As she put the parchment back on her desk, she noticed Jaehaera’s doll on the floor. She picked it up and finally took a good look at it. It wore a blue dress, and her head was sewn with bone white horse hair and purple beads were embroidered into her face to make eyes. She was smiling. Alicent fell to the floor and cried once more.