𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘉𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘖𝘭𝘥 𝘝𝘢𝘭𝘺𝘳𝘪𝘢
Chapter V
ˡᵒᵛᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵈᵘᵗʸ
Rhaenyra twisted the rings on her fingers nervously. Her footsteps echoed in the corridor of the Red Keep, the coolness of which wrapped her arms in the light slit sleeves. Heart beating restlessly in her chest, Rhaenyra realized what a difficult conversation she was about to have. The decision she had made could already be considered a feat, the first step towards her goal. And, it would seem, it was just a matter of talking. However, the person with whom the princess was going to talk would probably not be happy to hear the news.
Stepping out into the training courtyard, the sun hit her eyes. Her silver hair, which Rhaenyra had gotten into the habit of curling and styling in the Valyrian manner that she had never noticed before, shone in the bright rays. The girl walked down the steps and spotted Laenor fighting with an unfamiliar man. Rhaenyra drew more air into her chest.
"My dear consort," she called to Velarion.
The man fended off the blow one last time and stepped out of the duel, shaking his opponent's hand. Rhaenyra made no move to step into the mud and soil her shoes, remaining standing on the steps and waiting for Laenor to approach her. The young people had spent quite a bit of time together after the wedding, however there were days when they only met in the morning and evening. Today was supposed to be such a day, however something had gone wrong and instead of heading to Alicent's now, Rhaenyra was going to have a serious talk with her husband.
"Rhaenyra!" smiled Laenor and walked over to the princess. "What brings you here?"
The girl licked her lips and glanced around at those present in the courtyard. The conversation was a very intimate one, so it was worth their privacy.
"We need to talk. In private," she muttered softly. The step had been taken, now it would be necessary to go to the last.
Laenor marveled at such secrecy. What could have so alarmed his cousin?
"Can't we do this later? I'm practicing now."
"No, Laenor," Rhaenyra said gravely, shaking her head. "This matter is urgent," the princess realized that if she postponed this conversation to another day, she might not feel as determined as she did now.
Laenor sighed, clearly reluctant to leave the training field. However, since his wife was so insistent on talking, he shouldn't keep her waiting. Leaving his weapon behind, he followed his wife into the chambers. They walked there in silence, tension in the air between them. Laenor tried to think of possible topics for the serious conversation Rhaenyra was so eager to have, but all the options seemed unimportant.
There was one, however...
Letting Laenor into her room, Rhaenyra closed the door behind her and leaned her back against it, sighing and preparing herself for the words she was about to utter. It was sad that such a topic would be brought up in their marriage, other married couples must have it differently, naturally.
"Sit down," Nyra said and pointed the young man to a chair near the fireplace.
"Is it that serious? You're scaring me," Laenor grinned nervously, lowering himself onto the slightly creaky furniture.
"I apologize in advance for bringing up such a topic. Believe me, I'm not overly pleased with it either, but it's vital we talk about it," Rhaenyra sat down across from her spouse, concentrating.
"Then don't delay, the sooner the better."
"Right."
Silence hung between them. Laenor looked at the princess, by the expression on her face, one could clearly see the doubt and anxiety she was feeling.
Finally gathering her thoughts, Rhaenyra spoke up:
"We need to conceive a child."
Laenor looked at her dazedly, opening his mouth but not knowing what to say. He tried to get something out of his mouth, but all he could get out was a mute opening and closing of his lips. Nyra looked at him expectantly. She realized how unfamiliar the subject was to Velarion, but they had to do something about it. If they didn't have an heir, Rhaenyra might not be able to solidify her position as the future queen of the Seven Kingdoms.
It was a bloody necessity.
"I.. I don't know what to say!" Laenor spread his hands, finding himself completely at a loss.
"I can't imagine how hard this is going to be, but we have to get through it. And most likely more than once..." Rhaenyra, propped her hand on her head, contemplating what the newlyweds would have to do. "For our own good."
Laenor nodded understandingly. He understood the need, especially knowing they would have to do such a thing. It was obvious, they were married after all! However, the thought of spending the night together was unsettling. Things could go wrong. Velarion had tried sleeping with women before, of course, but then his taste had changed, so he didn't really know what it would be like to do it with a girl again. And Rhaenyra, even though she was no longer innocent, still felt anxious, not even about the process itself, but about the possibility of getting pregnant. She could not forget the fate of her dear mother. Her poor, beloved mother. After what had been done to her, how could Nyra not be afraid of childbearing?
"We should try," Laenor said after some thought. He and Rhaenyra had a warm, friendly feeling for each other, as they had known each other since they were children. But that didn't seem to make the task any easier, on the contrary, it made it more difficult. They had to somehow transcend their friendship to get into the same bed and try to conceive a child.
Nyra closed her eyes. It occurred to her that things would have been a lot easier if Dayraena had been around her, even though she hadn't had the chance to have a child. Rhaena would simply find words of encouragement. Alicent, of course, would also encourage her friend, but would not be able to do so in the way that Dayraena did.
"I'll be expecting you tonight, then."
"Just like that?" Laenor had thought that after such a conversation they would wait a little longer, to prepare, but his wife was clearly intent on doing it tonight.
"There's no need to put it off for too long, you said yourself the sooner the better," the girl stood up, interlocking her hands and heading for the exit. Now that the conversation was done, she could relax a bit and go see Alicent and her children to take her mind off the thoughts of the night ahead. Imagining how uncomfortable it would be for them, Rhaenyra shook her head and tried not to mentally revisit the conversation again that day.
After leaving the room and walking a few turns, the princess bumped into someone's back and, raising her head, realized who she had met. Captain of the Golden Cloaks Ser Harwin Strong. He turned and smiled, bowing his head courteously. He always smiled. Calm and friendly, while he looked at her with admiration. It was clearly visible in his eyes, as was the joy at meeting her. Rhaenyra had noticed his gaze on her very often, ever since that hunt in the Royal Forest a few years ago. And lately, she had noticed that she had begun to reciprocate it when they met in the corridors of the Red Keep or in the training yard. The princess couldn't deny it, she liked the attention of a young and handsome man like Ser Harwin.
They greeted each other.
"Will you let the princess pass, loyal guard?" inquired Rhaenyra jokingly, arching an eyebrow.
"I dare not block your path, my lady," Harwin indicated with his hand that the Targaryen could pass. Which she did, however she stopped after only a few steps.
She turned around, peering into the soldier's smiling eyes. With her mouth open, Rhaenyra wanted to say something, but then she hummed, exhaled sharply, and went about her business, leaving Strong puzzled.
Alicent's chambers were a mess and noisy. Children sitting on the floor had scattered toys all over the carpet, so Rhaenyra had to go around it to get to the young queen, who was standing near the window, staring thoughtfully at her reflection barely visible on the glass. She didn't even hear the princess, so she flinched when she felt someone's hands on her shoulders.
"Rhaenyra!" exclaimed the girl softly, turning her head and meeting bright valyrian eyes. "You startled me!"
"What were you thinking so deeply about that you didn't even notice my arrival?" the princess turned her friend around by the shoulders and peered into large fawn brown eyes that reflected consternation for a moment, after which the queen looked away, causing Rhaenyra to stare on her in incomprehension.
"Alicent," the princess persisted, wanting to hear her friend answer.
The latter tightened her lower lip, clearly unwilling to speak her thoughts aloud. But the serious and stern look in the violet eyes seemed to burn a hole in her. She realized that the princess would not leave her alone until she had an answer. Alicent liked and disliked that trait of hers at the same time. Oh, it was bad timing Rhaenyra had come.
"I've been giving myself to thoughts of my father..." the girl mumbled, feeling the princess' hands slipping from her shoulders.
"I will not let him return to court," Targaryen said coldly. "I told you that back then," she was referring to their conciliatory conversation.
"I know, I know," the young queen said quietly and reached for the burrs on her tortured fingers. Rhaenyra noticed it in time, however, and intercepted her hands, not allowing herself to be harmed.
"What exactly is troubling you, Alicent?"
"My... children," the girl stammered as she spoke and glanced briefly at Aegon and Helaena, playing and paying no attention to the conversation between their mother and her friend. "Will they be alright when you ascend the throne?"
Rhaenyra frowned, grimacing. Resentment and shock crept into her heart that Alicent had asked such a thing. How could she even entertain the thought that her children were in danger?
"Your words are completely unreasonable, why would I harm my brother and sister? They are blood from my blood," Rhaenyra spoke, looking into her friend's face that expressed regret. "They are my father's children, just as I am. I love them..." the last words came off her lips in a whisper, infusing Alicent's ears like sweet wine.
Hightower seemed to perk up, then felt guilt slowly begin to eat her from the inside out. Indeed, how could she have thought that Rhaenyra could harm her children? What a lie, what a disgusting, horrible lie her father had instilled in her.
"I'm sorry, Rhaenyra, I... I shouldn't have let myself think such things," Alicent shook her head, covering her eyes.
"I'm sorry you allowed such a thought. But now you and I have definitely cleared things up," the princess smiled encouragingly and squeezed her friend's hands lightly, wishing she wouldn't worry about anything else.
"And how is Criston Cole?" asked Alicent some time later, when she and Nyra had moved to the couch and the queen had picked up her embroidery.
Targaryen grinned wickedly, remembering their conversation with her father not so long ago. How angry Viserys had been when he had heard that Cole had slandered his sweet daughter, saying she had seduced him and made him break his vows....
"I thought you'd heard. He was expelled from the Kingsguard, now he wanders the streets like a beggar," Rhaenyra snorted, feeling a victorious and insidious fire burning in her chest.
"Perfect," nodded Alicent, returning her attention to the dragon-shaped pattern she was embroidering. It would go to Rhaenyra, her lovely friend with the dragon's temperament.
That night in the year 114 A.C., Laenor Velaryon came to Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen's chambers to finally share her bed and fulfill his duty to the realm. But an hour later, the son of the Sea Snake and Rhaenys Targaryen was on his way to his chamber, while the lovely Rhaenyra invited another, more desirable candidate to be her lover. Harwin Strong.
•••
Calryn sat on a high chair, dangling his feet and looking at some symbols written on the pages of the book. His eyes looked at the letters with curiosity, but it did nothing, the child did not understand at all what was written. It was not surprising, because the boy could not read, he had never been taught by anyone. Now, however, Calryn's education was suddenly decided to be thoroughly taken up, and the lovely Sereya volunteered to be the teacher.
The girl diligently and patiently taught Cal to read, and the boy in turn, quite quickly absorbed the information, although he wanted to do something else. He had only magic on his mind; after the incident with the butterfly in the garden, the thought of sorcery never left the child's mind. What Calryn hadn't considered, however, was how difficult it would be. Dayraena had tried to tell him that before practicing magic, he should learn to read at least in Common, let alone High Valyrian, in which all the books on magic brought back by Gelarion from Westeros were written.
Thus Cal, enamored with the sweet and wonderful idea of magic, sat and listened to Sareya, who after a while began to seem to him like a monster in human form. Gradually the boy began to get bored, so, at the right moment, when Sareya left, telling him to stay put, he jumped from his chair and ran to the door, eagerly opening it and flying into someone's dress skirt. Calryn froze, not even daring to look up.
"Where do you think you're going, little boy?" he found Mayrea's voice menacing, even though the younger Gelarion was actually smiling softly at him. She crouched down in front of him. "Are you really that bored with Saerea? Don't worry, I won't tell her."
The boy, after a brief thought, nodded, giving confirmation to Mayrea's words. She didn't change her face, continuing to smile sweetly at the child her older sister had managed to become so attached to. It was striking to her. Though Rhea knew that Dayraena had a soft spot for children, Calryn was not just anyone's son, but Daeron's! And Raena had taken him in so easily, one might say made him her son.
"But it's not nice to run away from class," Mayrea put out her index finger and waved it in front of the boy's face, giving him a stern look. "You want to learn magic, don't you?" it was hard for the younger Gelarion to believe that he would succeed, but she didn't want to ruin the child's dream.
"I do," Calryn squeaked, a sparkle in his eyes.
"Then you should go back, let's go," Mayrea rose and walked past the boy into the room where Saerea was about to return. Cal followed her and climbed back into his chair.
It didn't take long for the black haired girl to arrive. Upon seeing Mayrea, she made a slight gesture with her hand and fixed her hair before inquiring as to what brought the dragonlady here.
"Care to join us?" grinned Sareya, standing behind Calryn and wrapping her arm around the back of the chair. "I'd be glad to have you take part in Calryn's training as well. He's a savvy boy," with her other hand the girl wanted to rub the boy's hair, but he twitched and hurriedly pulled away, eliciting a laugh from Mayrea.
"I don't think I would make a good teacher."
"You taught me, remember?"
Gelarion just wanted to turn away and not participate in the process of teaching the boy, but Saereya was downright insistent. Mayrea slapped her own thighs and spun from side to side, pondering.
"When he's ready to learn Valyrian, then call me," the girl said and moved closer to the table, glancing back and forth at the boy and Sarea.
Just then another figure in the room rejoiced. Mayrea couldn't help but notice how pleased Calryn was at the sight of Dayraena. He fidgeted in his chair, clearly wanting to get off and run up to the woman who had come, but he didn't know whether to do so, doubtful of how it would be received. So Raena approached him first and leaned down, kissing the top of his head.
"Are you and the prince finally...." the continuation of Mayrea's phrase Calryn did not hear, because his ears were covered by the palms of someone's hands .
"Not in front of the child, Rhea!" resented Saerea, glaring menacingly at the girl who stood with a completely unperturbed expression on her face. "Refrain from using harsh language for now at least."
"All right, all right," the younger Gelarion yelled, and the palms disappeared from Calryn's ears.
"How's the lesson going, Saerea?" asked Dayraena, looking around at the books that adorned the table.
"He's a quick learner, but sometimes he's in too much of a hurry, not wanting to repeat what he's learned."
"Of course, magic is more interesting!" exclaimed Mayrea, understanding the boy completely. She herself had never been a fan of reading books or studying etiquette assiduously. Her mother had always made her memorize the crests and slogans of the great houses of Westeros, and the septa had hovered over Mayrea like a storm cloud all her life until her escape, making sure the young lady learned manners, dancing, and embroidery. This annoyed the freedom-loving Rhea greatly.
"I can't argue with you, but there's still no hurry," Dayraena lowered her gaze to Calryn, who had his head back. "You'll get there and learn everything, just listen to Saerea, alright?" the boy nodded.
"Now let's go sister, let's not distract them," Rhaena headed for the door, and Mayrea, nodding goodbye to Sareya, departed following the elder Gelarion.
•••
A few days ago, Dayraena had stumbled upon an empty room in the mansion, it was quite small with a single tall window, just the kind of room a woman would need. She had libraries in King's Landing and Fire Island where she could work magic, but there was no such place in Mayrea's mansion until now. Raena had asked for several tables and cabinets to be moved here, which later turned out to be filled with books and folios brought from Westeros. Trying to take more from the home library, the woman had inadvertently emptied it almost completely, leaving little to nothing for Daera and Aeneria, who might be interested in sorcery in the future. However, this was something the elder Gelarion thought about when she arrived in Essos.
In addition to ancient Valyrian folios and books, the truest treasure had been brought. A dragon egg, which the dragonkeeprs said was taken from the long ago clutch of Vertax, the dragon that Daeron flew. Why did Dayraena take it with her? Because no one in her ancestral castle wanted it; it had been in the roaster for a long time, but it had never cracked, after which attempts to hatch a dragon from that egg had ceased. Raena could use it for some kind of research or use it in magical rituals, which was also a possibility.
The woman took the dragon egg in her hands, a deep olive green color with golden veins. Making a small hole in the coals, she placed it in the unlit small roaster that stood on the table amidst the mess that Dayraena had inadvertently made while pulling the rest of her belongings out of the chests. Releasing the egg she was relieved, much to her displeasure her arms felt weak and had an unpleasant aching pain when she moved. Yesterday, Daemon had been training her hard in swordsmanship. It had been bad, of course, but holding a blade in her hands, even a wooden one, already seemed amazing to Dayraena. Especially when Daemon Targaryen himself pressed against her and showed her how to do it properly. It seemed to her that he was enjoying sharing his knowledge with her, perhaps he was even proud to have an apprentice.
Her fingers closed around the edge of the roaster. Deciding to test herself a bit, Dayraena began to whisper:
"Perzys dakogon rȳ issa ondos, (fire runs through my veins)."
She repeated this over and over until she felt the iron beneath her fingers begin to heat up. Her gaze was fixed only on the embers, her heart beat steady, her body was wracked by waves of heat coming and going. Such was the magic of fire. The most unpredictable magic. Before the embers smoldered and caught fire, Dayraena had time to yank her hand away to avoid getting burned. The egg was surrounded by fire, an environment in which the shell would normally crack and a small dragon would be born, but this was unfortunately not the case. Not all eggs hatch winged creatures.
Gelarion was surprised that she was able to light the brazier, it was a rare occurrence. Working with fire was not always fun, it was dangerous and took a lot of energy and patience. At least that was the way it was in Westeros. When she arrived in Essos, Dayraena felt a mysterious surge of strength, and she couldn't find a reason for it. Magic was easier. One could assume that it was because the woman had begun to regard sorcery as a pleasant pastime rather than a way to save or kill someone, and now she was flowing with life-giving, marvelous magic rather than deadly poison, but it still seemed suspicious.
"Trying to awaken the dragon?"
"Good evening, Daemon," the woman turned around, meeting purple eyes burning with intrigue. Daemon had never expected to catch Gelarion doing something as entertaining as magic. He marveled and admired the woman's ability to do so. He generally began to catch himself more often thinking that he admired her, that she made him desire her company. It irritated the prince in some ways and amused him at the same time. Daemon had become what he thought he would never be. A lover who had deep sympathy and affection in addition to passion.
They spent most of the day apart, and Targaryen, bored out of his mind, wandered the mansion in search of Dayraena, hoping she would brighten his evening or night. The prince himself did not do much of anything during the day. He slept, which was completely unusual for him. And what the prince wasn't happy about was the obvious realization that he probably wouldn't sleep at night. So Daemon had expected to get some sort of help from Rhaena.
She gave the sleepy man a quick glance and noticed his rumpled shirt and carelessly styled hair. She found this appearance charming, so she lowered her head, smiling to herself. And answering his question, the woman told the story of the dragon egg, and Daemon mumbled something thoughtfully, staring at the scaly green shell.
"Too bad they don't all sprout..." he shook his head and walked around the table, getting closer to Dayraena. "Without this happening, maybe we could have revived Valyria."
"The boon of magic is helping the dragons hatch. There are far more of them now than at the time of Aegon and his sisters' Conquest. The Isle of Fire is teeming with all sorts of dragons, I told you about that," Dayraena stood with her arms around her elbows and tried to list all the winged lizards that lived in the territory of the Gelarion family castle. It was not an easy task.
"And no one, not even you Gelarions, knows why they sometimes don't hatch?"
"If we did, we would have reported it immediately," Raena assured prince, touching his shoulder. "However, I have a hunch."
"Will you share it? Or is it a secret?" Targaryen tilted his head to the side, peering into the enchanting woman's mysteriously twinkling variegated eyes.
"Not a secret, but I have not shared it with anyone. It's just a theory that's unlikely to be true," pulling away from the prince, she took a step toward the dragon egg in the ring of flame. Her face was immediately flushed with heat. Daemon waited patiently for her to share her thoughts with him. "It seems to me it's all about the lack of magic in Westeros. In its unrecognition, all manner of denial while it exists, lives. In shunning it, people are driving that power away themselves without even realizing it. And we Targaryens and Gelarions are the only ones who embrace magic, who are trained in it. It's as if its power rests only on us and that's not enough to awaken the sleeping dragons," saying this, Dayraena slowly began to realize that her words were not meaningless at all. She herself had noticed a few minutes ago how fire magic had come easier to her than before. It turns out her hunch was quite correct...
"Daemon!" gasped the woman, turning around and looking at the prince with wide-open eyes. "Of course!"
Targaryen looked at her perplexed, but remained silent, waiting for her words to continue and bring her to some reasonable conclusion.
"My theory might be correct!" spoke Dayraena excitedly and stepped back to the prince, grabbing him by the shoulders. He had probably never seen her so enthusiastic before. He was even slightly taken aback by such a sudden and unexpected action. "I felt it myself. Since arriving in Essos, magic has come easier to me because it has taken root here, existed since ancient times. It is not banished by humans here," Raena pulled away again, putting a hand to her forehead and covering her eyes to come to her senses and gather her thoughts.
"You're incredible," Daemon hummed, preparing to laugh softly at the childish joy written on the grown woman's face.
"Yes! Yes, I am incredible!" she reached for the prince, pulling him into a completely spontaneous, stupefying kiss that Daemon, though not immediately, responded to eagerly. An action like what Dayraena had done was not at all usual for her, so, realizing this, she broke off the kiss, which was gradually growing into a passionate one at Daemon's will.
"I'm sorry, that was... Unexpected," Gelarion whispered, looking away slightly embarrassed. However, the fingers that closed around her chin prevented her from staring at the floor for long, forcing her to face the burning gaze of the dragon prince.
"Perhaps you should be so unexpected more often," Daemon said in a low whisper, enjoying the way the woman's face took on a sly and playful expression.
"So this is how you like me?" her arms wrapped around his neck, and the look in her multi-colored valyrian eyes became misty.
"I'll let you in on a secret," Daemon suddenly went for candor and leaned lower. "I like you in any way," eying Dayreena with a similar phrase, he engaged her in another kiss, this time unhurried and exciting. The woman collapsed in his arms, sinking comfortably to her waist, and gave herself over to the all-consuming inner fire.
"How fortunate things are turning out, though..." murmured Daemon, pulling away from the sweet lips.
"What do you mean?" Dayraena nuzzled into the prince's neck.
"I came to you to ask you to spend the night with me, and in the end I didn't have to ask," his hand slid up her back to her hair, which he ran his palm through and pulled back a little. Oh, how he loved her curls...
"Actually, my plans for the night only include sleeping," giving in to Daemon, she tilted her head back slightly, peering up at the dragon. And it was this mighty creature that Targaryen now resembled.
"Is that so?" the prince's eyebrows twitched, his face taking on a mocking expression. "Are you really going to let me get bored? I've been napping all day, brooding with loneliness, and you want to leave me like this. How cruel you turn out to be, my lady... And I was so counting on your help," his low voice, enveloping and seductive, hard to resist, enveloped Dayraena, forcing her to join his little game.
"So you wish me to keep you company, my prince?" the woman clarified playfully, playing with Targaryen's hair.
"That you help me sleep, to be more specific."
"Well, if you desire so, my prince, I will exhaust you so that you will fall asleep at once and sleep until noon," the woman suddenly declared boldly, causing Daemon to surge with excitement and even disbelief. But there was no way he could react.
"What am I hearing, sister. When did you get so passionate?" came Mayrea's voice like thunder. She stood by the open door, crossing her arms over her chest and looking at the sweethearts with a sly smile. "I'm sorry to interrupt, but the door was open and I couldn't resist."
Dayraena, already shunned by the prince, looked at her younger sister unhappily. It wasn't that she was uncomfortable, she realized that Rhea was unlikely to be particularly impressed by the words she had heard, but still the fact that they had been caught by the younger Gelarion in such an intimate moment threw off Rhaena's ardor a bit.
"This is my revenge, sister," the girl chuckled, "for my interrupted evening with Sareya," Dayraena flashed a glance at the prince, who, judging by the calm expression on his face, was in no way embarrassed by this appearance of a third person in the room.
Even though they had been interrupted at the sweet moment that had made Dayraena's heart flutter, once Mayrea left, there was nothing to stop them from moving to the prince's chambers and continuing their fun. The dragons' fervor was not easy to subdue, and the usual intrusion of another man could not prevent true passion and wild desire.