"I might be an idiot, after all," Rhea spoke jokingly. "I fail to see how that would be a good idea."
Aemond had a serious look about his face, he glanced at her sternly, more than he had intended to, and her smile fell from her face, back to looking as austere as she had the last month. His heart sank as he placed a strong hand on her shoulder.
"You have once flown there and left unharmed, I am counting on Rhaenyra's affection for you to-"
"Counting on Rhaenyra's affection? What are you, drunk?"
"I believe my sister to be a reasonable woman. I believe-"
"You're sending me to your enemy based on a belief?" Rhea scoffed, turning her back to him. He couldn't possibly be that blind.
"My enemy, not yours," he simply retorted.
"Yes, right, because they are going to see the difference, sure, Aemond."
"They once did."
"Yes, and they killed an innocent woman and her child."
Rhea couldn't believe what she was saying, she could not believe it had all resulted in this, in a such a short span. It had not even been a whole year since Viserys' death and all their lives had turned to such a shitshow.
"But they wouldn't kill you, Rhea. You know I am right," Aemond stepped in front of her, both his arms on her shoulders, squeezing them.
He was sure of this, he would have bet his soul on it, even.
"If you're commanding me, then, yes, I will go," Rhea answered as if she had not been talking to her husband, but as her King, and he hated it. She was more to him than just a pawn to place in the wicked game his family was playing, she must have known that.
"I'm not-"
"Aemond, I don't think we have time to discuss as we once did. If you need me to do something, then tell me. I will do it, and then, once I get back, if I get back, we might have a chance at a normal life." Rhea spoke fast, walking towards the dragonpit as she asked him more information on what she had to do.
Aemond watched as his wife climbed on her dragon's saddle, looking fierce and focused, she had changed into her flying gear, a pair of black trousers along with one of his leather shirts he always wore, one with silver buckles. She had tied her dagger, in its sheath, at her hip on one side, and her sword, a family heirloom, on the other. Her hair was braided tightly and her eyes were dark, she looked like she was going to war, he thought. She might have to, should this day prove unfruitful. He hoped to all the gods she wouldn't have to, he wouldn't have to.
"I hope you're right, Aemond," she said with a serious face. "I hope we get to see each other again."
Aemond took a deep breath trying to conceal his nervousness, he hated that he had to send her, but she was the only one he could send. Out of all of them, she was the only one Rhaenyra would not have beheaded on sight. He hoped he was right, too.
"Be safe, please," he said honestly. "And come back to me."
"I'll try," she answered as Sapphire took off.
Without looking back, Rhea left the Dragonpit and flew over King's Landing, darting over the city as she clamped her dragon's saddle, trying to keep her fearfulness at bay.
Nearing the island on which the Blacks resided, Rhea and Sapphire began their descent, the wind slapping her face and the air from the sea filling her nose. She stroke her dragon lovingly as she spoke to him in High Valyrian, soothing him, telling him she would be fine. She repeated the same phrases over and over, as a way too appease her own nervousness as well. As they touched ground, they were welcomed by an impressive amount of guards, all armed for war, standing all the way to the main gates. They had seen her coming from afar, surely.
She made her way through the long line of men in armours, leaving Sapphire on the nearby beach. Alone, she walked confidently and never took her eyes off the castle. She would not show them she was terrified, what use would it be?
She made her way inside the Throne Room, accompanied by two guards on each of her sides.
"Princess Rhea Targaryen," one of them announced and the whole room fell silent.
Rhaenyra stood there, her father's crown on her head, around the painted table, and she looked regal as ever. She looked up from the table and her expression turned from focus to curiosity. She tilted her head slightly, she had no clue why her father's ward was here. Rhea stood in front of her, the table separating them, silently, slowly gauging the atmosphere in the room.
"I was not aware we were to meet, sister," Rhaenyra said looking her in the eyes, not a sign of emotion on her face.
"We were not," Rhea said in the same way.
Both women circled the table, eyeing one another, appraising one another. Rhea glanced around the room, all the Queen's Guard had their hands on their swords, ready to draw them out. Jacaerys and his cousins, Baela and Rhaena, stood there, not far from their Queen. Prince Daemon and his young sons were not here, not in the room, at least.
"I was sent here," Rhea admitted. "To discuss terms."
Rhaenyra lifted her chin slightly, then nodded in understanding.
"Ah, I see."
Rhea stopped circling the table and stood right next to its centre, crossing her arms over her chest. She grunted in annoyance.
"As you are aware, one of Aegon's bastard children has been killed last month," Rhea started talking, and for the first time, she had managed to say it without tearing up, without feeling her heart shatter into the million pieces she had tried to glue back together.
"Am I?" Rhaenyra asked, glancing around the room. "Am I aware of that?"
Rhea smirked.
"I think you are, Rhaenyra."
Both women stood face to face, only the table between them.
"My husband, Prince Aemond, the Hand and acting regent for the time being has sent me to discuss a treaty, a truce, of some sort." Rhea spoke confidently.
"I do not recognize his authority, therefore I cannot strike a deal with his envoy," the Black Queen retorted.
Rhea sighed, pinching the base of her nose. This would not be an easy task.
"Rhaenyra, the last time I was here, do you remember it?"
Rhaenyra blinked, her breath quickening as she thought back to when she lost both her daughter and son in the span of a week.
"I do," she answered.
"Then you must also remember what your husband, prince Daemon, said to me the last time I saw him?"
Rhaenyra paused to think and shook her head almost unnoticeably.
"He said he would kill Aemond's son, to avenge your son-"
Rhaenyra cut her off and sent everyone out of the room.
"I have never heard of such a thing, Rhea," she then carried on.
Rhea scoffed.
"Well, you must have. An eye for an eye, a son for a son, does that ring a bell? No? Pity." Rhea started to get angry at the woman before her, she was angry the woman would not admit to her wrongs, her husband's wrongs. "Here's what Aemond found in the chest given to us by House Stark, one of your supporters, one of the most loyal, might I add."
Rhea handed her the note Aemond had found next to Marian Snow's head. On it was Daemon's handwriting, clear as day, and Rhea could see Rhaenyra had recognized it.
"In the chest, what was there?" The Black Queen asked, her eyes shifting back and forth between the note and the princess.
Rhea laughed bitterly.
"I think you know, sister," she answered sharply as the other woman's breath quickened again, her chest rising and falling fast.
Rhaenyra shook her head, a sorry look in her eyes.
"Inside the chest was Marian Snow and her infant daughter's severed heads, Rhaenyra." Rhea shouted.
Rhaenyra took a few steps away from the table, taken aback by the revelation. She brought a hand to her chest and let it rest there, trying to calm her nerves.
"Are you telling me Daemon acted alone, then? You didn't order for them to die, did you?" Rhea sounded bitter, angry.
Rhaenyra looked crestfallen, frustrated as she realised her husband had committed a heinous crime without even consulting her, his Queen.
"Where is he, now? Hmm, Rhaenyra? Where is your husband?" Rhea insisted on each word, adding more and more pressure as she looked at the Black Queen's dismayed face.
"I-"
She looked up at the woman she had once cared for like a sister, like a daughter, even.
"I do not know," she confessed, slightly ashamed.
"Huh," Rhea tilted her head. "Well that's unfortunate."
"Sister, you must believe me when I tell you I would never order the murder of an innocent child," Rhaenyra insisted.
Somehow, she did believe her. A mother would never willingly sentence another woman's child to die if she had lost one of her own before.
"Rhaenyra this has to end, we must find a way to stop this."
"Will Aemond bend the knee to me, acknowledge me as the one true Queen?"
Rhea gulped and looked away sadly.
"No. Will you? Bend the knee to Aegon?"
Rhaenyra sighed sorrowfully and shook her head. Both women looked at each other, thinking back on their bond, on the years they had spent together in the Red Keep and, later, the times Rhea would visit on Dragonstone. Often, when the younger woman was still a child, the oldest would tell her stories of how they would grow together, how they would build their lives as sisters, and Rhea used to love those. She loved to picture their futures, but now, she saw those very futures crumble under her very eyes.
"Is there no way we can come to an agreement?" Both women spoke at the same time and smiled sadly at the other.
The walked around the table and embraced each other for a little while, staying silent, the only sound in the room was the fire crackling in the chimney and under the painted table, making its light brighten the room in a comfortable shade of orange. The shadows it cast on the room danced as the princess and the Black Queen looked in each other's eyes again.
"My brother is a lot more intelligent than I would have thought," Rhaenyra stated with a wistful smile.
Rhea tilted her head, her hands still on the Queen's forearm.
"How so?"
"You are the only Green I would let in here," the Black Queen stated, her tone downcast.
Rhea stepped back, her eyes fluttering sadly.
"I am not a Green, Rhaenyra." She retorted angrily as the woman in front of her lowered her head, the same expression still on her face.
"But you are, sister. You live among them, you married one of them-"
"That is different, that was before-"
"You could have refused."
Rhea's heart sank, the woman was right. Although she sided with the Blacks at heart, and always would, her actions defined her as a Green, there was no way she could refute that.
"It was your idea, your father's last wish for me. How could I not?"
"An idea you weren't opposed to, Rhea. Had I known it would lead to this-"
"And I would let you kill me, this instant, if it were to end this god awful quarrel between all of you." Rhea spoke strongly, her gaze never faltering, her chin held high. "This needs to end before more blood is unnecessarily spilled."
Rhaenyra agreed with her sister but, deep inside her, she knew there was no way this conflict would resolve peacefully, she knew there would be blood, a lot more of it. She would never forgive them for usurping her throne, for the accidental death of her son, for the miscarriage of the daughter she had hoped for for so long. She was ready to suggest a betrothal between one of her younger sons and Aegon's daughter, their children would rule and it would be all. As Aegon and Rhaenyra lived, there would be two crowns, and when they both died, there would be one again, worn by both their heirs. In a way, Rhaenyra thought, Rhea was the only thing preventing both sides to obliterate the other, as she stood in the middle. Aemond knew that, when he sent her. Why else would he send his one weakness right in the arms of his enemy? In her own mind, Rhea was formulating the same idea, she knew it would not be well received in the Red Keep but the eventually would come around. An alliance would be better than bloodshed. She would even bend the knee in Aegon's stead right now, to prove her willingness.
As she readied herself to do so, the doors burst open and Daemon entered, fire in his eye. The whole vibe of the room altered, and Rhea clasped her sword, ready for a fight. The prince had acted behind his Queen's back, which in itself was an act of treason, but Rhaenyra would deal with that as she pleased. Rhea looked at the man she once looked up to and felt only hatred, not knowing just yet just how much more this animosity would intensify and the lengths with which it would go.
Rhaenyra watched as her husband drew his sword and noticed there was blood on it, a great deal. If he had only been training, there would not be any. Soon, she realised the prince limped, his clothes torn and his lip cut open.
"Where were you?" Rhaenyra spoke angrily, a terrible feeling sinking in.
Daemon smirked and cleaned the blood off his sword, sliding it across his trousers, leaving a dark, red trail on it as he looked into Rhea's eyes.
"I've just come back from King's Landing, actually," he announced ominously, swaggering around the room.