twin flames | daemon targaryen

thirty-three

The Peaceful Princess leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the top of her giggling daughter's head, reaching forward and securing Viserra's cloak tighter around her body to protect her from the wind.

"Muña," Viserra whined, immediately trying to free herself of the cloak, her eyes still glued to the forms of Vermithor and Silverwing in the distance. That was the other thing: Viserra ran the hottest out of them all. Rhaella had no doubt that once they got to Winterfell, their daughter would be running around in dresses she wore in Driftmark and be perfectly comfortable.

"Vis, I told you already," Rhaella said, pressing another kiss to her daughter's head. "I know you don't like wearing the cloak, but you need to wear it while we fly in the North. If you get sick, you won't be able to ask Lady Madelyn about the direwolves."

Viserra's face lit up at the mention of the mythical creatures of the North, ceasing in her attempts to wriggle out of the thick cloak wrapped around her.

"Do you think we'll get to see one?" Viserra asked her, as she had every day of their journey thus far. Rhaella laughed gently, her eyes moving from her daughter to ahead of them where Daella and Damion were on Darksmoke. It was clear that the two were bickering again, something that had only started in the past year.

Damion and Daella were as opposite as could be. Where Damion was brash and arrogant, never backing down from a fight or dare from his brothers, Daella was calm and kind, never having lifted a finger to harm another being, except Damion.

Something about Daemon and Rhaella's youngest son irked Daella. The first time Daella had bickered with Damion over dinner at Driftmark months before about the salmon they were eating was the first time that Rhaella had heard their young daughter argue with anyone, something that was found incredibly amusing to the rest of the children.

"Muña?" Viserra prompted, tilting her head back to look up at her mother with wide blue eyes.

"Direwolves have not been seen south of the Wall for decades, little dragon," Rhaella reminded her daughter, reaching up and smoothing the errant white curls that had escaped her daughter's braid. Viserra pouted and bowed her head. 

"I know, Vis," Rhealla said, frowning at her daughter's disappointment. "At least we'll be able to see some snow."

"I want to see snow!" Viserra exclaimed suddenly, all thoughts of direwolves disappearing from her mind.

"Winterfell has lots of snow," Rhaella promised her. Rhaella reached forward and wrapped her arms around her little girl, hugging her close as Viserra giggled in delight. "We can make snow houses and have snowball fights. I bet if we team together, we can even take down your father."

Their family's journey to Winterfell had been in the making for years.

Rhaella and Lady Madelyn Stark, formerly Tully, had dutifully exchanged letters every week for the 16 years since Madelyn had been Rhaella's lady-in-waiting. While they had only seen each other in person three times during that span, the friendship forged in their youth was as strong as it had ever been.

When Madelyn a few months prior invited Rhaella and her family to travel to Winterfell for a fortnight's stay, the Peaceful Princess immediately set pen to paper to accept.

A year had passed since Aegon and Helaena's wedding, and those few days spent in King's Landing had reminded Rhaella of what it meant to be a second daughter of a king, and what it meant for her children to be the children of a second daughter and a second son.

There was no place carved out in the world for seconds, not truly. They were constantly cast aside, forgotten, just a piece on the board to use at the whim of the firsts.