𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑 | Funerals
{ Rhaenyra }
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𝕴t was truly bizarre just how quickly things could change, from being so happy and peaceful to despairing. In fact, it had taken less than a day for this to be the case.
Rhaenyra stood as stoically as she could manage, staring on at the funeral pyre that was in front of her, holding her mother and, now dead, baby brother. Every instinct in her was begging for her to cry and scream about the unfairness of all of it, but she was not allowed.
She could not cry, not now that everyone was watching. It was frowned upon. She was the princess, and thus, she had to remain strong for all those around her. Weakness would lead to them not respecting her.
Her family surrounded her, all dressed in black with their heads bowed. Alicent was on the other side of the princess, and Rhaenyra could see that, further away, by his uncle, was Malkym Thorne. The older teenager's head was bowed, though he looked up to catch her eyes, but Rhaenyra could not make out the expression on his face.
The sea crashed against the cliffs as Malkym nodded, before bowing his head once more. Rhaenyra wished she was allowed the luxury of not having to watch this, but she knew that she did not have a choice to make.
"They're waiting for you." Rhaenyra stiffened at Daemon's voice, before starting to speak as best as she could through the tears that threatened to overwhelm her.
"I wonder if, during those few hours my brother lived, my father finally found happiness." Rhaenyra whispered.
"Your father needs you." Rhaenyra wanted to turn and shout at her uncle, remind him that she too had just lost her mother and sibling, that this was just as unfair on her as it was on any other member of the family. She was ten and four, she was still a child, a child that needed her father, "more now than he ever has."
"I will never be a son." Rhaenyra turned to look at her father, who was struggling to breathe. She stepped forward, staring up at the dragon on the hill above them. As hard as she tried, she could not form the words she had to say. She could not find a way to ask the dragon to burn her mother's body. Turning once more, Rhaenyra begged for her father to issue the command but he did not, so she forced her mouth to work. "Dracarys."
The dragon stepped forward, before unleashing a wave of flames onto the plinth as Rhaenyra turned away. She could not bear this.
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"Princess?" Rhaenyra took a deep breath, brushing her tears away at the sound of someone's voice. Turning, from her place at the Weirwood tree, she turned to look at who had spoken. Malkym stood behind her, still dressed in his dark clothes from the funeral, his dark eyes sad.
"What do you want? I am in no mood for jests." Rhaenyra tried to sound strong, but she was unsure how it was portrayed.
"No jests, Your Grace." The man stepped closer, before holding a single white lily flower out to her from where it was hidden in his hands. "It is tradition in the Thorne family for a gift of a flower to be given to the eldest child of the deceased or their grandchild. In my family, it means that we are passing all of our elders wisdom to the next generation."
Rhaenyra paused, looking up at the man who she'd only known for a mere few days. Malkym licked his lips, before stepping closer and handing the lily over to Rhaenyra, who's hands trembled as she grasped it.
"May all of your mother and brother's wisdom pass to you and may they watch over you for as long as they need to." Malkym smiled, before bowing his head and stepping back. "I shall leave you in peace, Princess."
"Why a lily?" Rhaenyra didn't want him to leave.
"Hm?"
"Why a lily?" Rhaenyra looked up. "Why not a rose or a tulip or a daffodil?"
"At the graves in my home, Alterwoode, we plant a different type of flower by each grave of our ancestors." Malkym explained, spinning his signet ring around his finger. "When the time comes that we are to die, a flower is grown for us. As it starts to bloom, it is cut and nurtured until the day we die and then it is handed to the next of kin. For my side of the family, my father will have a sprig of apple blossom that will be passed to me and I will then pass that to my children. It is how we trace our lineage."
"Through flowers?"
"Through flowers." Malkym confirmed. "I thought a white lily would be a good fit for your mother, though I did not know her well."
"She would have liked it. My mother loved flowers, and the gardens here." Rhaenyra replied, forcing a smile as Malkym bowed his head once more. "Thank you...I do not know what to call you. Is it Ser or Lord?"
"Malkym is just fine, Your Grace." The boy laughed quietly, holding his hands behind him as he rocked back and forth gently. "I do not need to be constantly addressed by a title. My name suits me quite well. It was why my parents blessed me with it."
"It seems improper."
"Well, considering that I have survived an attempt of being burnt by your dragon." Rhaenyra chuckled at that, looking down as she clung to the lily. "I think it is only fair that you are able to call me by my first name, Your Grace."
"Fine, then, thank you, Malkym." Rhaenyra tilted her head, liking the way that his face lit up at the sound of his name. "I should go, console my father and grieve."
"Should you need anything, I can try my best to help." Malkym nodded, before turning as his eyebrows furrowed. "Would you care to be escorted in?"
"I am not a damsel in distress. My grief has not yet consumed me."
"Then you can escort me in because I do not know how to get back to my chambers." Malkym sent Rhaenyra a sheepish grin, as the Targaryen girl hooked her arm through his with another quiet laugh.
"Do not fear, dear Lady I will lead you back." Rhaenyra joked, as Malkym mocked a curtsy that was remarkably terrible. She tried not to giggle, clutching onto his arm a little tighter.
"Why thank you kind Ser." His voice went higher as Rhaenyra found that she could not contain her laughter, ducking her head. She was mourning her mother, yes, but the little laughs that Malkym provided her with was helping her more than he knew. He drew her mind away from the grief, and she did not wish to be left alone with it or her thoughts. They seemed to always threaten to consume her, except when she spoke with Malkym, then they held themselves at bay. "You can regale me with tales about your dragon you keep threatening to set on me."
"I have never threatened to set her on you."
"It was implied." Malkym nodded, in a serious sort of manner.
"When?" Rhaenyra scoffed, nudging the man as he chuckled once more, his dark hair falling into his face. "You are too much like a jester."
"Funny, that is what my father told me a few weeks ago. Have you two been in contact?" The only answer he got was a swift smack on the wrist, as his laughs grew louder. Rhaenyra's grip on the lily tightened, before she too joined in.
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Rhaenyra had the lily pressed.
She had not wanted it to fade or to lose something that held so much meaning, so she had commanded the Maester to press the lily. From there, she'd had it made into a brooch, something that she could pin to her dresses, as a sign that her mother would always be with her. It had made her feel somewhat better when everything continue to transpire after Aemma's death.
Shortly after the funeral, there had been a Small Council meeting called into session, the contents of which had further sickened Rhaenyra.
"Before we begin, Your Grace, I have a report I feel compelled to share." Rhaenyra turned as Otto spoke, pouring more wine into the cups of the Small Council. "Last night, Prince Daemon brought out one of the pleasure houses on the street of silk. To, entertain officers of the city watch and other friends of his."
Even Rhaenyra could feel the tension mounting in the room, knowing that her uncle had most likely caused more troubled than he should have.
"He toasted Prince Baelon, styling him 'The Heir for a Day'." Rhaenyra's heart sank, tightening her grip on the jug in her hand. She may not have wanted a brother, but he had still been her brother if only for a few hours, and yet her uncle deemed it wise to mock him so? To mock her family? Her mother? "I have corroborated this report with three separate witnesses. The evening was, by all accounts, a celebration."
Her uncle was walking a fine line, a line of which would get him, and possibly their family, killed and that was all she could think of. She could only think of the name Heir for a Day, even as her father told her that she would become his heir, even as she was made ready to be presented to the court, even when others swore fealty to her. It was only when Malkym Thorne bowed by her feet and began to speak did she focus back on the matters at hand, staring down at the kneeling man, who did not falter for a moment.
"I, Malkym Thorne, heir to Alterwoode, on behalf of my father, Lord Thorne, promise to be faithful to King Viserys and his named heir, Princess Rhaenyra." His voice did not shake as he spoke, looking up to catch her eyes. "I pledge fealty to them and shall defend them against all enemies, in good faith and without deceit. I swear this, by the old gods and the new."
He stood, bowing his head to Rhaenyra, as the lily pin burned into her chest, like a weight on her shoulders was being placed there. She could only hope that her mother's knowledge was with her now.
Hiya,
Malkym and Rhaenyra are such sweethearts and the Thorne family tradition is to hand a flower to the next in line after their parents or grandparents die which I think is really sweet. Also, I love that Malkym is constantly trying to make her laugh.
Let me know what you think,
Love Li xx