Donna ────── R. Targaryen

VI

"But can you not see, you can." Rhaenyra's eyes were wide as she finally turned to look at him. "You are a good soldier, you fight well, your family is loyal to the crown, you are kind and respectful, what more could I look for in a husband?"

"Money." Malkym shrugged. "Power, large areas of land to control, marrying someone who could secure said areas of land for you."

"I am already heir to the Iron Throne, what power could I possible want for?" Rhaenyra sighed. "I don't want money, or land, or power, I just want you. Why can you not see that? I wish for us to court, and be betrothed, I wish for us to be able to act on the feelings that both of us keep pushing down. I wish to fall in love, and with no random high lord who may not treat me well, but with you and I will gladly argue with my father until I die for this. Can you not see that I want this?"

"I know you do, and I want it to, but-"

"But what?" Rhaenyra took a deep breath. "I will not marry if it is not with you. I do not wish for marriage if it is not with you."

"Princess." Malkym ran his hand through his hair and down his face, before groaning into the palm of his hand. "That is not the way of the world and you know it. You are ten and five, and I am ten and seven. You can not be married for another year and I should have already been married. You do not even know if there are other options out there that would be better suited to you."

"I do not want better options." Rhaenyra was stubborn, more so than Malkym and the man could only protest so much at this idea, for he also truly wanted it to be her. His head was not in the argument if his heart was not, and his heart had already wandered into the palm of Rhaenyra's hand.

 "You are making this much harder than it should have been."

"Good." Rhaenyra folded her arms. "Why are you making excuses to get out of this? If you do not wish to marry me, say so."

"You know that is not the case. I am trying to protect you."

"I have a dragon for that." Rhaenyra replied. "I do not need you to decide my fate."

"Your father will not like it."

"He shall come around."

"The Small Council will not like it!"

"Fuck them." Rhaenyra cursed, as Malkym shot her a look. This was one of the first times that he'd heard her cuss.

"My father might have an issue."

"You would be marrying a princess, and the heir to the Iron Throne, he will have no issue." Rhaenyra smiled at that. "He just wants you to marry."

"How do you know this to be true?" Malkym turned to stare at her, a joking smile appearing on his face as he tried to lighten the mood. "Have you two been plotting behind my back?"

"Your uncle told me."

"Gods above, I can trust no one to keep things from you it would seem." Malkym huffed in disbelief.

"If this is about your ego being bruised that I asked you to marry me before you had the chance, then I can rescind the offer so you can ask me yourself."

"I was more worried that you were making a decision to spite Lady Alicent and your father because you asked me this after crying into my chest for ten minutes."

"It was a moment of clarity after all that mishap." Rhaenyra rolled her eyes.

"Of course, of course. Sure." Malkym rolled his eyes sarcastically. "There was no element of spite in there at all."

He was met with a shove in return, falling off of the root that he had perched on to land on the floor. Malkym groaned, opening his eyes to glare up at Rhaenyra. She stood over the top of him, her hands on her hips and an eyebrow raised.