Roast Dinner Sunday. Serving flame grilled wolf, and a side of protectivedad!Barristan.
All eyes widened as they fell upon the Prince of the Seven Kingdoms, the one who had remained silent as he trailed alongside his sister. After weeks of cautious glances, and careful glares; Aegon stood before them all, no hint of hesitation now as he spoke. "You are too good for such a Kingdom." He uttered aloud, not caring for where the chips fell as he bent, pressing a kiss to her cheek and straightening himself. "What a waste of beauty and strength, to be underappreciated by the very Kingdom that owes you such a debt."
Grumbles slipped from the crowd, her eyes unable to meet those of the Northerners who had lost such respect with one phrase. "It appears the North has such a selective memory that they do not remember the sacrifices you have made to be here; of the generosity our family had shown them in the years since they bent the knee."
Rhaenar reached out, clasping at his hand as she begged him with her eyes. "Aegon, perhaps you should sit down."
"No." He growled, shaking his head. Rhaenar may have been too polite to utter anything, but Aegon wasn't. "You take her dragons, you take her armies, you take her food. But you won't take her, the one who provided it all." He spat at them, the Storm Lords agreeing as they 'here, here'd at Aegon's words. "And to think, my sweet sister, is one of your own."
"Egg!" She hissed again, pulling at his hand as her eyes searched the crowd. Perplexed was one word to describe the gazes of those that flickered between them, angry another, but others swirled Pride. Her gaze flickered across, looking to Oberyn who swallowed, raising his hand to show a letter in it. He offered her the smallest of smiles, not letting it meet his eyes as he clung to the edges of the room. What was he doing here?
Aegon stood back. "You have a spineless King, a bitch for a Lady, and a gormless boy that let a man charge to his death when he didn't need to; and don't start me on the one that follows me around. These are the ones who lead you, who you chose to declare independence for." And what a poor choice that was, he thought. "And now that she has gifted you the independence you so desperately crave, there's no thank you; only the threat of potentially taking the Kingdom from her."
Tyrion's smile dropped, as did the others as all eyes turned to Jon. "But you seem to forget, little brother. It wasn't you who brought the allies up here, you only invited Rhaenar. If it wasn't for her, the country would be swimming in the dead, ready to march to King's Landing."
"I know that." Jon stated, turning to him. "We all owe a debt to Rhaenar." It didn't sate Aegon, it only drove him as he stalked across the room, facing his brother. "Yes?"
A dry chuckle left Aegon, shaking his head as he stared down at Jon. "It takes someone to say something for you to acknowledge it." Her lips pursed, her eyes turning to Oberyn who stepped further into the room. "Ned would be horrified."
Sansa stood from her place, glaring at Aegon. "Don't say a word about my father."
"Or what? What is it you're going to do to me?" The blue shimmered as she remained standing, the other Northern Lords wondering if they should stand too. "That's what I thought." His steps echoed across the stone as he walked around the table, coming to stand in front of it as the midnight blue swept over those faces in front of him. "We've been polite to you, and the first mention of anything that remotely pushes at you, you bristle."
"Aegon, why don't we take this into another room?" His Dornish voice cut across the room, desperate to soothe the uncomfortable grimace that sat on Rhaenar's features.
Aegon whirled around, pointing his finger to Oberyn. "You don't get to speak. You were just about to abandon her." More awkward silences settled in the room, Rhaenar's hand tightening at her side. This was going a little too far, she thought. "It makes you no better than those that sit around her."
Her eyes glanced up. "Egg, please. Let's retire before you say something you regret." And before long, he would say something that would turn the opinions against her. Rhaenar's eyes sought Ser Barristan, who glanced to the other Lords whose eyes were searching the room. She nodded to him, and he nodded back; a silent understanding passing between them as he began to rise.
"Aegon." Jon warned as his smile fell, he too standing as he faced his brother. "That's enough."
But this only ignited Aegon further. "That's enough? That's enough, huh? That's enough when you hesitated when the Night King had his hands wrapped around her throat - almost killing her, that's enough when the wolves came snarling at her and you turned a blind eye; that's enough when you threaten your claim over her." He had risen to his full height, his large stature swallowing the room of any lightness that had once been.
Rhaenar's eyes flickered to Jon. "You hesitated?" The steely grey glanced away as he glanced at the cup in hand. "Jon. Did you hesitate?"
"Yes, I hesitated." Gasps rippled from around them as the Storm Lords and the Crownlands stood, hands seeking the weapons that weren't strapped to their belts. "But it's not what you think, none of this is what you think."
She swallowed. "And what do I think?"
She watched as his shoulders dropped, the confidence he once had disappearing from him. "You don't like the North, I know-"
"Wrong." Rhaenar uttered, cutting him off. "Why do you think I came all this way if I didn't like the North? Why do you think I kept my men here when we could have fallen back and let you handle the first wave?" Silence met the room. "I loved the North, until I realised the North didn't love me back."
Sansa turned to Rhaenar, sneering. "You threatened me. How could you love the North when you do that?"
"Advising you on how to keep your Kingdom afloat is not threatening you; threatening you is telling you I'll see to it that the North becomes crippled in debt and you will be unable to feed your people and in turn your heads will be placed upon platters, see the difference?" Cheeks were bit as Rhaenar sat back in her chair, dismissing Sansa as she reached for her own cup and sipping back the thick, red liquid.
"Sit down, little bird; and let them speak for fuck sake." A voice cried out as a hand roughly tugged her down, sitting her to the bench as eyes turned back to the three arguing Targaryens.
"If we can just forget about this and-" Jon began.
"No. You don't get to speak after letting them treat Rhaenar this way. She's our sister, your twin. The blood of Lyanna and Rhaegar! The rightful heir of the Iron Throne." Gasps rippled from the crowd as Rhaenar's eyes shut, her head falling back. Congratulations, Aegon.
Rhaenar's chair scraped against the stone, standing as she looked between them all. She didn't want this happening, she didn't want to hurt anyone. Aegon only had her best interests at heart, and that she did need to be defended against the North, but not in this way. With her chin up, and her eyes darting to the wet stone, Rhaenar stepped back from them all. "Excuse me."
Ser Barristan took her flank as she disappeared from the room, keeping her back straight beneath the weight of the gazes. Jon, Aegon, and Oberyn watched as Rhaenar left the room, a stone of regret filling their stomachs. "And that's the Queen you bent the knee to?" Sansa questioned, looking to Jon.
He shook his head. "Shut up, Sansa." And he left, following behind his twin sister as his eyes searched the corridor for any sign of her.
Oberyn stepped through the centre of the quiet room, his hand falling to Aegon's shoulder before pushing him forward. "Get moving."
He turned, pulling his shoulder from his uncle as he glared at him. "Get off me." Stalking away, Aegon followed his younger brother as they wound through the private wing of Winterfell, hoping his sister was in her chambers. Their theories were confirmed as Ser Barristan stood outside of the room, his sword in hand as he watched the approach of Jon and Aegon.
"You're not going in." The Old Knight warned as his attention drifted between the pair before his eyes then flickered to Prince Oberyn.
"Ser Barristan, let us in. I wish to speak with my sister." Aegon muttered, growing tired of everyone as he glared up at him.
"I am under strict orders of the Queen not to let any of you in. If you wish to speak with her, you can await a private audience at a time of her choosing, or you can leave." Rhaenar's ear pressed to the wood as she heard the low rumbles of a loud tone, Ser Barristan's voice rising above the others.
Oberyn frowned. "Barristan, we've been friends a long time - fought on the same side for even longer, let me speak with her Grace before I leave tomorrow morning, it's urgent." Urgent? Rhae thought, her brow raising.
"What could be so urgent that you need to speak with her? When not hours before you were bound to leave." Oberyn rose the letter again, pursing his lips as Rhaenar's name was sprawled across the front. "And what am I to do with that?"
Oberyn held his tongue as the two younger men looked at him, then the letter, and back to him. "Please, just give it to her. I understand if she doesn't want to see me, not after what I said. But at the very least, ask her to read the letter." He admitted in defeat, Ser Barristan nodding as he took the letter from Oberyn's hand and placed it within his breastplate. "Thank you."
"You may leave, I'm sure when the Queen is ready, she will see you." Oberyn nodded, shooting one last look to the door before disappearing back to his own chambers, his packaged stuff awaiting him.
Aegon looked to Jon next, a cough slipping from his throat as his eyes then peeled to Ser Barristan. "May I now be let in?"
"She doesn't want to see you yet, Aegon. Rhaenar has made that explicitly clear." His face fell.
"Why does she not want to see me?" He questioned, confused.
Ser Barristan's eyes softened. "She just needs some time, son. Go to your room and she'll see you soon." He urged, eyes softening as he gazed at Rhaegar's son.
Aegon's shoulders deflated, his hand raising as he knocked upon the wooden door. Rhae gasped lightly, stepping back. "Rhae...?" There was no answer. "I know you're in there, and I know you're probably upset with me. But you know where I am if you need me." Her gaze softened, her hand lingering on the door knob as she heard his voice. Rhae loved her brother deeply, and how protective he was; but the news of where she had come from, who had birthed her... It hurt to have it revealed in such a way.
"I love you." Aegon finished before stepping back, and away to his own room. The indigo fluttered shut as she drew back her hand, cradling it to her chest as though the metal had burnt at her hand.
It only left Jon to stand in Ser Barristan, and the discomfort upon his face was apparent as the Queensguard stared down at him with little more than distaste. "I suppose I'm not permitted either." Jon muttered, knowing it was a wasted effort to appear before her.
Barristan blinked, his scowl tightening. "Rather the contrary. Despite my best warnings, and those of the Storm Lords, she had permitted only you to enter her chambers - unguarded." Jon was surprised, his face shocked as Barristan grasped the handle of the door, but not twisting it. "That girl in there has faced more than we have in any battle, one move to hurt her and I swear to the gods I will gut you like a fish and throw you to the smallfolk."
Jon swallowed. "Understood." He muttered, his voice several octaves higher as Barristan pushed open the door. Rhae stood just shy of the fireplace, her hands crossed in front of her as the indigo settled on a tile before her. Her hair had been pulled back, but left free from ornaments; and her coat stripped to a more basic tunic as she moved to a chair, placing herself down.
Their eyes met. "Are you drunk?" She questioned, her voice quiet even in the silent room.
He shook his head. "No." He was sure, taking a step in as he wobbled. "Only a little." Rhae nodded. The conversation would at least be easier if Jon was drunk, he'd be more open with her than he had been previously. "I didn't know Ser Jorah well... but I know this. If he could have chosen a way to die, it would have been protecting you."
His words made sense, but Rhaenar didn't want to be thankful for what he offered. Not after all that he had done and condoned. "Please do not speak of Ser Jorah, Jon. You did not know him the way I knew him, you do not understand the sacrifices he made to stand on that field."
He nodded. "I know." Did he? She thought, her brows dipping slightly as he moved further into the room; Rhae not moving closer as she kept her legs crossed, her hand tightening on the arm. "I know how wrong I've treated you, and how that's something I can never make up for." Slowly, his footsteps echoed across the room; his boots hitting the stone as he knelt in front of her, his hands not quite touching her as they rested either side of the armrest.
Rhaenar was forced to stare at him, to take in the sincerity that lined those grey eyes as they stared up at her. "I've been an idiot, I know I have. I haven't treated you how I should have, and I've let the North be the worst of what it could be."
"Why did you do it? I thought we were supposed to be one. Me, you, and Aegon." A dragon with three heads, three riders, three conquerors. Just like their ancestors, just like their namesakes almost.
He nodded. "I let them get to me, I let the Northern side overrule my head." She had seen how they all turned to Jon for leadership, how they regarded him in such a high mentality.
"I know. I saw when they stood around you, how their eyes perceived you." Rhaenar admitted, glancing at her hands. "I knew that look once upon a time, I used to be greeted with it almost everyday before I came here. Sometimes I still see it, but I wonder if they do it because they see me as a future Queen or their way out from Cersei." Their eyes met, a vulnerability in the purple.
"People see you that way, Rhaenar, because they believe in you; they know you're nothing like your ancestors." They believe in her? "Look at the way you handled the Storm Lords, how in a matter of a conversation they've come to love you. I could never..." Jon shook his head, a smile still on his lips. "I regret what I said to you in the crypt, Sansa's anger had led me to lash out, to think I could become King of Westeros for the sake of the North. I don't want it, not really."
Her brows quirked up. "But it doesn't matter what you want, Jon, not really. You said you didn't want to be King in the North, but look at you. The thing about the information that has been spread is they will force you to press your claim, Sansa's already proof of that." And what happens then? The North, the Riverlands, and the Vale would rally behind him for the sake of Sansa, and the country would be at Civil War once again.
"Then I'll refuse." He nodded, promising inside his head if anything like that was to happen, he would refuse it. "The same way Aegon will."
"No one's rallying behind Aegon to be King, no one's pressing him to claim it. Your situations are different."
"You are my sister, and if you allowed it My Queen. I don't know what else I can say." He begged her, but Rhaenar shook her head.
She turned, gazing to the fire beside them as she took a deep breath. "There is nothing you can say, Jon. The damage has been done by Aegon and yourself, and anyone else who has spread the news. If it comes to war, or a divide of nations, we will deal with it. Until then, the North will be given its independence, and that is the end of our relationship." The words were harsh even to Rhaenar as a coldness took hold of her voice, their eyes meeting once more.
"You don't want to be family, anymore?" Jon rose, taking a step back from her, disbelief in his face.
"I don't know, but as far as I'm concerned the South will not be involved with matters of the North, and vice versa. We won't be offering the North aid, or trading opportunities. Taxes and other monetary matters will be worked out when we decide what will benefit the south; and any forms of the Stark family coming south for help will be accompanied back to the North." He took another step back from her, not believing it
His head shook. "Rhaenar, you can't do that."
That was where he was wrong. "I can do as I please for the safety of my men and my country; and currently, they see the North as a concern to security to the Six Kingdoms of Westeros." There was no threat, not anymore. "For the benefit of my Kingdoms, and the safety of the Realm, the South will no longer hold dealings with the North."
Silence encased them, a tension rising between the twins. "You'll cripple us."
"Perhaps you should have thought about that before you told your sister of our secret." It had spiraled from control, at both his hand and Aegon's. Aegon for informing the entirety of the hall, and Jon for telling his sister who chose who to inform on what; twisting as she pleased. "I told you that it would take a life of its own, that we won't be able to control what happens to it. Now you have seen what it does to people."
"I will bend the knee, please Rhaenar, don't cut the North from the South like this." He begged, taking hold of her hand as she stood, unable to meet his eyes.
Rhaenar shook her head. "It doesn't matter if you bend the knee, Jon. Nothing will ever return to the way it was." Because all eyes were on them, all bets placed on who would turn out victorious.
"I had to tell Sansa and Arya. They're our family, they deserve to know." Did they? Did they deserve to know right then and there that Rhaenar was one of their own, and that Jon had just as much claim as Rhaenar and Aegon did.
"She does not regard me as family. She would rather see me dead than on the Throne as her Queen." At least Sansa got some part of what she wanted. "That's why she's spoken behind my back, why she told Oberyn only I was the child of Rhaegar and Lyanna; and why Varys and Tyrion were told only you were the child of Rhaegar and Lyanna."
Jon didn't believe Sansa could do such a thing. He knew her, what she was like and what she was capable of. "She's not like that, Rhaenar; you just haven't gotten to know her." Or perhaps Rhaenar knew her better.
"The Sansa that stands before all those Lords, is not the same Sansa that would tease you as a child. She's spent time with Cersei, she was raped by Ramsey. Before she was nothing but glass, and now?" Now she was a lion beneath a wolf's skin; the lessons Cersei placed so thoroughly inside of her shining through as she tried to rule a Kingdom she wasn't Queen to. "You will never understand the pain she went through, how she's had to repair the cracks she made, Jon. But as someone who went through something just as horrific, I can tell you she is far more cunning than you are led to believe."
And they had both ruled so different from their experiences; placing what they thought was right into such different views. "I owed them the truth."
"And look at where that has brought us. In two different Kingdoms, picking two different sides of our families; with a potential war that could tear it apart again. We were supposed to be different from our parents, but it seems we seem to be falling into the same trap of what is right and what is wrong." Rhaenar uttered, pulling her hand from his before taking her own step back, approaching the raging fire to the side of her.
"Then what do you want me to do? You are my Princess, my sister, the same blood. Nothing will change that. And they are my family, the ones I grew up with and thought I belonged to for all of my life. We can live together." But they couldn't. They couldn't live together with what had transpired in that hall, and the days before it.
Rhae shook her head, turning from him completely. "We can live together. In two different states, in two different families, as far away from each other as possible. With me pandering to the North's demands so they don't call for you to be put on the Throne, and for the North to be crippled by the sanctions put into for foreign trade."
"Will you forgive me at least?" Jon asked, turning as he glanced back at her.
Her eyes closed, rolling beneath the closed lids as she grasped the stone. "Perhaps in time but right now, I don't want you in my sight."
Silence encased them once more. "Is that your final decision, then?"
Rhaenar nodded. "That's my final decision."