•𝖘𝖙𝖆𝖗𝖉𝖚𝖘𝖙 • Jaime Lannister OC

✹thirty three ✹

It was Aryen who answered, always the more straightforward of the twins. "You were poisoned." He said simply.

"Well yes I gathered that." Rhena said with a bitter laugh. "I was the one who told you to get a healer who knew their way around poisons."

"The poison was moon wine." Rhena froze. "It was for Daenerys, meant to take her child and leave her infertile. The last spite against the Targaryens." Aryen's face was hard as stone. "She would have survived it of course, but without the knowledge of you or us, Cersei would have died with the notion that there would be no more Targaryens after Daenerys."

"But I drank it." A single tear dripped down her nose though she didn't move to whip it. "And..."

"You've bled for the past day." Daenerys answered, eyes darting to a pile of crimson rags in the corner of the tent. Rhena's eyes followed her sister's and her stomach rolled.

That was her child. A whole beginning reduced to little more than a stain to clean. Rhena's ears rang and she was forced to hold down the little breakfast which she had consumed.

"Rhena?" Daenerys called, grabbing onto her sister's elbo in support. "Rhena, can you hear me?"

Rhena's ribs tightened in hopelessness; at the loss of a future which she didn't truly want. For the names she had picked out already, for the hope of a girl whom she could teach. "Leave me." She whispered. "Please."

Aryen and Tyros exchanged glances. "Mother-" They both started.

"Please, my loves." She begged, struggling to keep her voice kind. "I will join you later." The three Targaryens, knowing when to leave their senior in peace, quitted the room, and left their sister and mother to grieve on her own. Not moments after they left, Rhena caved around herself and folded into a ball of sorrow.

It could have been minutes, hours, or even days before another soul entered the tent. Strong arms wrapped around her and she was drowned in the smell of salt and leather, so alike yet so different to her Jaime.

"Gods Rhe." Callan whispered against her hair. "It's alright. I've got you." He rocked her back and forth atop the stiff mattress of the healing tent. "You'll be alright."

Rhena cried until the sun set and the candles were lit. Callan kept her secure against his chest, giving her time to grieve. "I was going to name it after your mother." Rhena admitted when her eyes had dried and any notions of happiness were gone. Callan cried in her stead after that.

Hours later when the night had stilled and grief had ebbed into shock, Rhena opened her puffy eyes. "Callan?" She asked.

"Mmh?" His voice was thick with exhaustion and she almost felt guilty for dragging him through such an endeavor.

"What are those?" Their collective attention focused on a black chest, open and full of stones.

Callan's face screwed up in confusion before it morphed into recognition. "Daenerys left them for you. She said that they'd help you gain your strength."

Rhena eased her way into a sitting position; Callan's hands supported her. "Rocks?" She asked, gaining more control over her movements and sight. "She's brought me rocks to recover from a misscarriage?"

Callan flinched at her deadpan voice and swung his legs over the side of the cot. "Take a closer look." Rhena faltered when he rose, but regained her balance when he sent a look of concern.

"I can manage." She assured him, frustrated by her weakened state. Callan resumed his original path and hefted the large trunk to her bedside. As he approached, Rhena was able to see in greater detail.