Dance with her ghosts

“Lady Alicent Hightower had been a fixture in Princess Rhaenyra's life, the Queen had been there for her in good times, in bad, and had always defended the Princess tooth and nail, as well as her other three children, she had also taught Princess the subtle games of court and the double meaning of words, Queen Alicent had taught Princess Rhaenyra the art of rule long before it became an art.”

- Daemon Targaryen VIII in "Rhaenyra Targaryen: The First Queen of Westeros" published in 678 AC

Alicent's figure had grown along with Rhaenyra's.

First she had been Lady Ali, the woman who was first a friend, - "friend" was not the right word- to her mother, and then she had become Lady Alicent, the only unmarried lady at court, and after that she had become Lady Alicent, father's almost wife and after that she had become Queen Alicent.

To Rhaenyra, she was never more than  Lady Ali, who was friendly and laughing and had taught little Rhae how to use a dagger.

That was why Rhaenyra was hiding.

She had been so ashamed when she learned that Ser Criston had lost his tongue and that Alicent knew what had happened, that she had fled to the brothels and lost her virginity to Ser Criston, that she could hardly look at her stepmother without feeling shame and guilt gnawing in her stomach.

She didn't think Lady Ali will really judge her or anything like that, after all, she was the one who had taken little Rhaenyra out into the city and bought the sweet cakes, the thick fabrics for the few cold days they'd had and the meats on little skewers that made Rhaenyra's mouth water just at the memory of it. Though that wasn't much, Lady Ali was wild, she always had a mischievous gleam in her eyes and her smile was always a bit mocking and it was almost as if she was saying "if you can do it, do it".

But then mother was gone and father was gone with her and then Lady Ali was there, she looked very dead, very sad, very tired, but when she saw Rhaenyra and she always smiled and had a joke on the tip of her tongue and "it is fine cry for Aemma, darling".

And she had stayed by Rhaenyra's side when father was too busy being empty, and sometimes he would look at her with eyes so vacant she was afraid he was like the Bloody Baron in Lady Ali's stories, a ghost, bloodied and scary and she stayed far, far away from him and took refuge in Lady Ali's rooms and sometimes slept there.

Lady Ali wasn't mama, she didn't smell like flowers, she didn't know how to style Rhaenyra's hair the right way and she never knew why frilly dresses were worn to small council meetings and not on day petitions.

But she taught Rhaenyra that chamomile smelled good and that if you put it in hot bath water, it was almost like perfume and that she could pull her hair up and make sure your neck was free of sweaty hair and she taught Rhaenyra that wearing pants was so much better than wearing dresses.

She wasn't her mother, but she was a very good mother nonetheless.

So she marries papa and she walks down the aisle alone, no maiden's cloak and Lord Otto looks furious, "stay away from him, Rhae, it doesn't matter if he's walking down the corridor, you have to turn and leave", Lady Ali whispers in her ear, and nearly three years after that warning, Lord Otto still makes her shiver.

She marries father in a white silk dress that hugs her waist, a crown of a thousand suns in her hair, and circle shaped earrings that look pretty on her face, she winks at Rhaenyra every time she sees her looking. And Rhaenyra can barely help but jump up and down with happiness.

Lady Ali is marrying papa, but mama isn't there and it's... it's a little sad, mama should have been there, mama was so happy with Lady Ali, she smiled more and she was so bright that Rhaenyra felt like she was looking at the sun.

And then Lady Ali is pregnant and Rhaenyra is angry, so angry that sometimes her arms shake and she wants to kick her father in the shins and ask "why did you do this to Lady Ali?"

Mother died because father wanted a baby and now Lady Ali is getting bigger and father is so happy he doesn't even seem to see that his second wife is going to die, Rhaenyra knows she will, mother died in childbirth and mother's mother before her and cousin Rhaenys couldn't have any more children.

But then one day Lady Ali breaks out of the Red Keep and her father is mad, he has Uncle Daemon looking for Lady Ali, and the Gold Cloaks are after the Queen like she's already dead, and the Kingsguard is going crazy and Rhaenyra is... she knows that Lady Ali is fine.

She's smart, strong, and has a sharp tongue that she uses whenever someone is persistently defiant and utters one of those subtle threats that Rhaenyra isn't sure she understands.

Lady Ali was going to be completely fine, except she's pregnant and no one who's pregnant is really fine.

And then the Queen is walking through the front gates of the Red Keep with a bent, wrinkled, hairless woman who Rhaenyra is sure is some kind of disguise, because no one as blind and as old as Nana can really see anything.

Rhaenyra thinks this was the nicest thing Lady Ali has done in a long time, and it also made father so worried that it was funny to see what colors his face went through as he decided whether he was relieved or furious.

It wasn't enough to make her forgive her father for impregnating Lady Ali and taking her another mother from her.

But it was rewarding to see her father so angry.

Then, almost half a moon later, Lady Ali is having a baby and Rhaenyra can't not be with her.

She's the first to arrive and her father isn't even there, and when she asks Ser Criston where he is, her Kingsguard looks guilty but doesn't answer, just purses his lips and shakes his head and Rhaenyra knows her father isn't coming.

He did this to Lady Ali and he won't even see her.

Rhaenyra is so mad at him because her father caused her mother to die and now her father is causing Lady Ali to die too and it's not fair, it's not fair, none of that is fair because father will remarry and it's not going to be anyone else as nice as Lady Ali and Rhaenyra will be forgotten among all the other children and wives father will have.

So she's in the birthing room with Lady Ali, and she doesn't look like her mother: tired, pale, and so withdrawn that loud noises make her shiver. Lady Ali looks fine, the birth isn't like her mother, who was  screaming so much that Rhaenyra's ears rang with discomfort.

Lady Ali swears, a lot, she swears so much that Rhaenyra is pretty sure half the curses she says are made up, and then, a little while later, the baby is there.

He's wrinkled, rather ugly, red as a beetroot, covered in a little blood and white goo, and he lets out a scream so loud she's sure the midwives are beating him.

Nana cleans the baby in warm water, dresses him in white clothes and a little hat, and Rhaenyra is the first to hold him, as Lady Ali is busy delivering the afterbirth, which is a little more disgusting than a baby.

He's still red, quite wrinkled, but he has chubby cheeks, blurry little blue eyes and when she looks up from under his little baby hat, his head has strands of white hair so sheer he looks bald, he yawns widely in her arms and looks quite frightened by the sound it makes, showing a tiny tongue in its little mouth.

He's pretty ugly.

Rhaenyra loves him so much her heart aches.

He is none of the brothers she lost, he is not Baelon, or the nameless one before him, or the little girl who came months before Rhaenyra, or the first child her mother lost, but he is her brother and he is a fighter, just like Lady Ali, because they both fought childbirth and said no to the Stranger.

— Can we call him Aegon? — she asks Lady Ali, because he looks like an Aegon, he is not strong like Aegon the Conqueror, but he fought as bravely as his namesake.

— Well… — Lady Ali says, and she looks scared, for some unknown reason.— He looks like an Aemon to me.

Rhaenyra wrinkles her nose.

— No, he doesn't, he looks like an Aegon. — Rhaenyra counters, because he looks like an Aegon, well... not a strong and confident Aegon, but a slightly pinker and chubby Aegon.

— What about Baelor? — Lady Ali asks and Rhaenyra can't help but sniff again, he looks nothing like a Baelor.

—You don't understand. — Rhaenyra counters, because it's true. — You haven't seen him yet, he has an Aegon face.

— You know, I don't think babies can have faces with names. — her stepmother snaps and Rhaenyra rolls her eyes, adults are so stubborn.

So Rhaenyra is showing the baby to her stepmother and her face does that weird thing where it twists and it looks like she swallowed a lemon, skin and all, she looks really, really displeased, and Rhaenyra is glowing, she's right, her brother is an Aegon.

Her father agrees with her and so does Uncle Daemon.

It's strange to think that Aegon Targaryen is the first living sibling Rhaenyra ever had and mother Aemma would have been  so happy with another baby, Rhaenyra knows she would have.

So Rhaenyra goes to Balerion and the thousands of candles lit for the Targaryens that are gone, and tells mother Aemma all about her new brother, she even takes Aegon to see her mother when he is a little older and doesn't spend all the time of day sleeping and crying.

He thrashes, little legs kicking and little fists pumping the air in sheer happiness, he cackles, a sweet baby sound that echoes off the stone walls of Balerion's room and there's a little warm air and the candles sway and Rhaenyra knows that Mother also loves Aegon as if he were her son.

Exactly how Lady Ali loves her.

Then after that, when Aegon has almost three name days, Lady Ali becomes pregnant again, and this time Rhaenyra doesn't even care, because Aegon was a big child and this one seems to be small, considering Lady Ali doesn't seem to get very big.

She wants to be there again when the new baby is born and confirm to Uncle Daemon that he was wrong and that the baby was a girl and no, the shape of Lady Ali's belly didn't indicate anything, Nana had said so.

But then Rhaenyra, Laena, and Cerelle were engaged in one of those courtly entertaining games and they missed the birth of the baby, and Uncle Daemon looked very displeased when he handed her five golden dragons and Rhaenyra knew she had won.

She abandons tea games with her friends, aunts and Cerelle's mother and rushes to the birthing room because she needs to see that Lady Ali and the baby are all right.

She knows that the pregnancy was not difficult but she is afraid that everyone will become mother Aemma and she is afraid that Lady Ali will die and she will be so alone again.

Lady Ali's new baby and Rhaenyra's new sibling is a girl, she's petite, smaller than Aegon, but still so chubby that her little legs are curled with fat and her little fingers seem to disappear into a very chubby hand.

Unlike Aegon, Helaena, and this time, Rhaenyra didn't fight over the name, because the baby looks like a Helaena, she has so much hair on her little head that her curly hair looks puffy and gives her the appearance of having flown on a dragon against the wind.

She doesn't startle when Rhaenyra picks her up, but she squirms and opens her eyes, almond-shaped, a lavender tint so light her eyes look crystalline and then she gives a goofy little smile and Rhaenyra knows it's just a reflex, but Helaena smiled at her, so wide and so pleased that she felt herself glowing.

Rhaenyra takes the baby to the hall of Balerion and the thousand and one candles that remember those who have passed away and presents baby Helaena to mother Aemma, Helaena does not laugh, she remains attentive the entire time, silent as ever, but holds out her hands when Rhaenyra talks about her mother.

She cries when she isn't held by someone who isn't there, and Rhaenyra wonders what unseen things Helaena's eyes have seen.

The children grow older, Aegon turns three, Helaena is a little awkward and Lady Ali is busy being Queen and mother to her two siblings and she spends limited time with Rhaenyra and is always accompanied by one of her other siblings.

It's good for a while.

But sometimes Rhaenyra just wants to be alone with Lady Ali like when she was younger and enjoy all her stepmother's time all to herself.

And Lady Ali is pregnant again and this time it's a little different, it's like there's something in the air. Her stepmother is irritable and tired and so big that Rhaenyra is afraid to embroider because what if she pierces her with a needle and Lady Ali bursts? 

She doesn't burst, but she spends more and more time lying down and sleeping every day, that even Aegon and Helaena seem to realize that there is something strange going on, she doesn't care about the pregnancy anymore, because Aegon and Helaena had easy births and Lady Ali is strong, she will manage, Rhaenyra knows she will, she always does it.

So she looks forward to the day of the birth and the day when she can finally introduce her new little brother to mother Aemma and hopes that he will grow up healthy and strong and that her mother will be proud of him as she was proud of her other two siblings.

She doesn't realize at first.

She had effectively hidden from Alicent, not because her stepmother knew what had happened to Ser Criston, but because she was so terribly guilty of what she had done that she feared she would see Alicent's open, sympathetic face and break down and beg for forgiveness in tears.

Rhaenyra had hidden away in her room, leaving only for meals and sneaking through secret passages to get to the training yards or the few Small Council meetings she attended.

She did not know.

And maybe that was what hurt her the most.

She had been there when Aegon was born and she had been there shortly after Helaena had come into the world, and every time Alicent was well and there was no worry about her, because she was Alicent Hightower, nothing could shake her.

She was a rock, undisturbed in the midst of the storm and nothing could change that.

And Rhaenyra hadn't been there, just as she hadn't been there for Mother Aemma.

She didn't find out until the next day when Daemon knocked on her  door looking absolutely wrecked, he looked tired, his dark circles were purple against his pale skin, his eyes were slightly bloodshot, his fingernails had blood under them and his hair was disheveled and dirty.

— What happened? — she asked, her heart seeming to stop, she had never seen Daemon so tired or worn out, bloodstained, battle filthy and blood boiling with death yes, worn out ever.

— Take your siblings. — Daemon replied, his voice low. — We're going to the Dragonpit to burn a body in Valyrian traditions.

Rhaenyra's chest feels like a drum.

— Who? — she asks, in a whisper, she doesn't think Laena or Rhaenys have died recently, not to burn a body in the middle of the night, Daemon's face immediately gets weirder.

— Didn't your father tell you? — he asks back, and there is such deep anger in Daemon's tone that Rhaenyra almost forgets that she should be mad at him.

— Not him... I haven't seen father since...— Rhaenyra presses her lips together and says no more, she knows Daemon knows about the night in the brothel and Ser Criston and Rhaenyra hiding.

— Ali… The Queen went into labor last night. — Daemon finally speaks after a painfully long moment of silence, and Rhaenyra feels herself plummet. — One of the babies didn't survive.

One of them, the other was alive, so they were twins.

— And Alicent? — she asks, and suddenly understands why Daemon can't bring himself to say his stepmother's name, it's painful, she doesn't know what happened, but she knows it will hurt her.

— Alive, but barely. — He presses his lips together, looking disgusted. — We don't know if she'll survive or not, Nana said if she stays the night, she might survive.

— And the maester? — Rhaenyra couldn't help but ask, Alicent always twisted her lips at them, but they should know something that she could help, however small.

Daemon shudders.

— We don't have a maester.

— Did Mellos leave? — she asks, because the man was like a fly with honey on them, always following his father and trying to look smarter than he was, Rhaenyra didn't think the man would leave even if he was dead and gone.

— No. — Daemon responds. — I cut off his head.

— You what?

— He was being an arrogant asshole and wanted to cut your brother in half to study him. — Daemon’s voice is so disgusted that Rhaenyra finds herself agreeing to this decision almost immediately.

— Allright. — Rhaenyra replies, curling her feelings into a tight little ball and burying them deep within her chest, she doesn't want to think that Alicent might die and that Aegon, Helaena and the nameless baby will be motherless. — Should we let them see her?

— No. — Daemon responds immediately. — There was a lot of blood, she's pale, horribly pale, she looks dead, I want them to remember her alive.

Rhaenyra was old enough to remember the fine, elegant features of her mother's face, her wavy white hair always tied back and her gentle violet eyes, Aegon and Helaena are so small that in a few years, Alicent will be nothing more than a memory. They will think pf her and remember nothing but silk dresses and brown hair in a nondescript face.

Maybe if they see her on the brink of death that will be all they remember.

— I'll get Aegon and Helaena. — she finally says, and she hopes Daemon doesn't hear the tremor in her voice, but he does, he's Daemon Targaryen, he always knows things no one else should know.

— She'll make it, you know. — Daemon says, hesitantly reaching out to touch a lock of Rhaenyra's silver hair, then he swallows hard and takes his hand away, Rhaenyra still not sure if she wants him to keep her hand or not. — She's Alicent, she always gets it.

Rhaenyra doesn't want to be a disbeliever, she really doesn't, but her mother always got it too and all Rhaenyra has of her are faded memories and a pair of dresses and a room with a thousand candles that doesn't even remotely remind her of her mother.

— Yes, I think so. — she chooses to answer, because it's easier to have that strong belief in someone than to expect the worst.

— I'll get your father. — Daemon says, and after a moment of looking intently into her face with searching eyes, Rhaenyra tilts her head and looks away from Daemon's intense stare.

She closes the door behind her and walks down the hall, first right to the end and then left, the first door in the hall, Rhaenyra's former nursery, which became Aegon and Helaena's official room.

Ser Willys is standing in the doorway, looking freshly awakened, and Rhaenyra suddenly remembers that the changing of the guards must have been just a short time ago, through the window at the end of the hall, the sun is barely breaking over the horizon, it is barely dawn, Aegon is going to be so moody.

Ser Willy opens the door with a confused tilt of his head. Rare are the days when children wake before their first meal, rarer still are the days when Rhaenyra wakes them.

Helaena is a sweetie in the morning, Aegon on the other hand looks like a literal dragon.

The two children are lying in their beds, Aegon in the one closest to the door and Helaena in the one by the window, and sure enough, Helaena is awake, small eyes clear and tired looking at Rhaenyra from behind a tuft of messy hair.

She smiles shakily at her sister, and remembers that Lady Ali will only live if she wakes up tomorrow, she still has a whole day and night to fight and Rhaenyra suddenly remembers that it is these children who will be left without a mother.

Sweet, gentle Helaena, and mischievous, needy Aegon.

— Aegon, darling, wake up. — she whispers into her curly hair, her brother wrinkles his nose and turns away. — Aegon, I need you to wake up.

— No thanks, mommy. — Aegon replies, pulling the blanket over his head and hiding in the covers, Rhaenyra's heart breaks a little more, because maybe, Alicent will never wake up Aegon again and she is... Rhaenyra's eyes are suddenly full of tears and she can't do it.

How is she going to look Aegon in the face and say "mommy" is never coming back? How is she going to get Helaena to understand that the woman who smiles at her and never lets anyone call her slow, idiot or stupid is not coming back?

— Aegon, it's Rhaenyra. — she chooses to say and ignores the cracks in her voice, Helaena is already up from her bed and has a small block of wood in her hand, her little eyes curious as she stops beside her.

She doesn't speak, but she extends her little finger from her temple to her chest making little circles that look like curly hair and Rhaenyra feels the breath leave her chest, Helaena doesn't speak, but she communicates in a way that no other person can.

When Rhaenyra doesn't respond, Helaena touches her arm again, making the same sign, starting at her temple and ending just below her chest, and everyone knows what that means, she's asking for Alicent.

— Mom isn't here now, Lena. — she chooses to answer, carefully letting any sadness out of her voice, Helaena tilts her head to the side and blinks rapidly and Rhaenyra is reminded again that as much as Helaena doesn't talk, she is smart in a way that none of them are.

Helaena finally pulls away to place her free hand on Aegon's foot, then she pulls, in insistent tugs, and Aegon begins to whimper.

— Come on, Aegon, we need to go to the Dragonpit. — she says solemnly as he steps out from under the covers, he looks very, very grumpy with his lips twisted down and his arms crossed over his chest.

— Sunfyre? — he asks, right after a particularly large yawn that makes Rhaenyra smile.

— We can see him too. — she agrees easily, reaching for the pair of boots Aegon keeps at the foot of the bed. — Let's get you a cloak and put your boots on.

— I don't want another shirt. — Aegon says and Helaena nods frantically in support, Rhaenyra sighs, but well, it's still early days, and for once, Aegon is wearing clothes, and they're not talking about the 112 AC incident.

— Fine, but we need to go, father and uncle Daemon are waiting. — Immediately Helaena perks up, because Rhaenyra is no fool, she knows she has been replaced as favorite niece and when Helaena smiles, showing little teeth, Rhaenyra discovers that she is not as mad as she could be.

Aegon and Helaena are still in their night clothes as they make their way through the halls, the servants' activity has barely really begun and things look a little hazy when they spot the three of them walking down the hall towards the front doors.

Daemon is already there, with a wheelhouse waiting for them, Rhaenyra climbs up with the help of one of Daemon's goldcloacks and pulls Helaena into her lap and Aegon to her side. Father is also there, not looking at them. He looks horrible, a mockery of the neat and clean man who is usually the King, her father looks old and dirty and tired, with red eyes and greasy hair that makes Rhaenyra's skin crawl, he finally looks at the three of them, vaguely, like if he didn't notice that they are there, as if they weren't important.

It's almost like it's mother Aemma's dying day all over again, her father is acting like he's the only one who's lost someone, and Rhaenyra is suddenly angry with him.

Father is being hypocritical, again and again and again, he never seems to stop, father became King and from King he became a man Rhaenyra doesn't know anymore.

He doesn't read stories to Aegon and Helaena, doesn't show them how to paint his model of Old Valyria, and doesn't spend a second of his time with his other two children, he seems to have forgotten that he has a life outside of being King.

— Papa. — says Aegon, suddenly animated, his father looks at him and grunts in vague recognition and then turns to look outside, Aegon's face immediately slumps and his eyes fill with tears and Rhaenyra... Rhaenyra has spent nine namedays of her own on her father's doorstep, waiting for him to talk to her and all she gets is a drunken grunt and a quick dismissal.

— Alright, my love. — she whispers into Aegon's messy hair. — My love for you is greater than Vhagar. — and much greater than a father's love, she thinks, smiling when Aegon widens his eyes, because he likes to think that someone's love is greater than Vhagar, because Vhagar is very, very big Nyra .

— Serious? — He sniffles, trapping his little hands at her black dress.

— Serious serious. — she replies, just as Daemon enters the wheelhouse.

He holds a bundle in his arms, small, covered in a white cloth like all Targaryens before him, tightly wrapped around a body that looks a little strange, the arms look disproportionate and there is a strange curve in the middle of the body, as if it were broken.

— Can I see him? — Rhaenyra asks curiously, setting Helaena down so she can cling to Daemon's leg and look up at him with glittering eyes.

— No. — Daemon responds immediately and Rhaenyra wants to protest, she really does. — You'll hear the rumors and I don't want you to have to see it for yourself.

— Is it very bad? — she chooses to ask, softly, so as not to disturb Aegon who seems to have fallen into a very strange nap as he plays with her fingers.

— No. — Daemon’s response is mild. — It's just… ugly, a little, it's still a Targaryen, but it was born half dragon, half man.

Ah, Rhaenyra saw the images in the maesters' books, ugly little things, sometimes with wings and horns, sometimes with scales covering their bodies and serrated teeth in their mouths, they were always born dead and had dark eyes beneath their lids.

What is strange is how Alicent, who has no Targaryen ancestry on either side of her family, managed to give birth to a half-dragon, half-human baby.

She doesn't ask, because if she starts asking about Alicent, she's going to have to wonder how she knew her mother had died and how she knew Lord Otto would try to marry her off to her father and why she was so disappointed to be pregnant with Aegon and how she knew he was going to be a boy and… there are things that are better left unanswered.

She chooses, very carefully, to remain silent until they reach the Dragonpit.

The sun is barely rising when Ser Harwin opens the door, and Rhaenyra knows him, because Laena has an astronomically huge crush on him, and who wouldn't, the man is, to quote Laena herself, a delight.

Aegon looks even more grumpy to be woken up from his nap and Helaena hugs Daemon's leg with her short little arms and even shorter little legs and seems happy to let Daemon move them to where the dragons are.

Caraxes is already outside, emitting a vigorous snarl from deep in his chest that causes the men near him to back away and keep a considerable distance, the dragon crouches even lower, looking more menacing, its long teeth barely containing the fire dragon it produces, its claws, long, thin and very dagger-like, leave large furrows in the earth.

Caraxes, like Daemon, is furious.

The dragon lets out a loud trill the closer they get, the sound causes Aegon to clap his hands over his ears and Rhaenyra's ears ring for what seems like hours, Helaena lets out a high-pitched wail, only Daemon looks remotely okay.

Whatever happened the night Lady Ali gave birth to her two brothers, it was enough to make Daemon so angry, so furious that Caraxes felt it too, not that that's weird, sometimes Rhaenyra wakes up in the middle of the night, feeling such unbridled joy or enormous hunger she simply knows it's Syrax.

The dragons are, after all, a big part of them.

Daemon places the baby on a makeshift altar, done very hastily as it's not as elaborate as Baelon's. As he's pulling away and holding Helaena in his lap, she puts her little hands on her worn and wrinkled shirt and squeezes her little fingers together, still staring at the baby at the altar.

— Dracarys. — says Daemon, and Rhaenyra doesn't even have time to look, or perform one of the Valyrian rites, for Caraxes is opening his mouth and releasing a torrent of red fire onto the body of a brother Rhaenyra has never seen.

She also had never seen Daemon as relieved as he was now.

— He's done. — he whispers to her, his shoulders slumping in such overwhelming relief that Rhaenyra feels lighter and not even she knows what exactly has happened. — It's over, he's safe now.

Rhaenyra nods once in agreement and lets Daemon have his last moment with a brother she's never seen.

Helaena and Aegon look quickly bored the faster the flames die, while father hasn't even come down from the wheelhouse, but watches the baby's body burn with an intensity that gives Rhaenyra goosebumps.

They stand still for a few more moments, just watching the flames burn the rest of the wooden altar, then Helaena is going to the ground, jumping between the grooves Caraxes left in the earth and Aegon is looking around, as if looking for a friend.

— Sunfyre, Nyra? — Aegon asks, tugging at her skirts, and she wouldn't have denied him Sunfyre if he'd been misbehaving the entire journey.

— Allright. — she replies. — Call him.

Sunfyre was one of the few dragons that roamed freely in the Dragonpit and around King's Landing, his golden scales were seen flying around the city and casting multicolored lights.

It had been a direct order from Alicent when Aegon, of three name days, had bonded himself to a small golden dragon who had eyes too big for his snout. Sunfyre was big for Aegon at the time, but not much bigger than a pony.

Neither Rhaenyra nor her father were too sure of that order, dragons were dangerous, especially to those who weren't Targaryens, those who had common blood and no connection to dragons, which meant that virtually all of King's Landing was in danger from Sunfyre on the loose.

So father had questioned Lady Ali left and right about that particular order and Lady Ali had replied, in perfect Valyrian "zaldrīzes buzdari iksos daor", and father had been so shocked that he hadn't questioned it further.

And Sunfyre had been on the loose, flying among the common people duting the day and sleeping in the Dragonpit at night. His greatest atrocity was stealing fresh fish from the merchants that came into town because Aegon thought it would be funny. The merchants were rewarded, with Aegon's allowance, of course.

Rhaenyra hadn't really understood Lady Ali's order when it was given, to keep Sunfyre loose, free, flying through the air as if he were part of the wind, but she thinks now she understands.

Because the scream Aegon lets out is enough to make Rhaenyra's ears tingle, and then Sunfyre is walking out of the Dragonpit, swaying like a very happy dog who doesn't know how big he is, and in two years, Sunfyre has grown bigger than any other young dragon.

The last time Rhaenyra had paid attention to Sunfyre, the dragon had been the size of a pony, growing into a horse, and then, well, dragons grow slowly, they were big, yes, but Balerion was nearly two centuries old when he died, and Vhagar was just as old.

Syrax and Caraxes were still young, and Rhaenyra knew she would not live to see them grow to the size of Vhagar, but Sunfyre is, for lack of words, big, huge and hulking.

He reaches Aegon and manages to slam his long tail into Caraxes, tear clods of earth from the ground with his claws, and knock down three of the dragonkeepers in his euphoria to reach the boy.

Rhaenyra thinks she understands why Lady Ali always has such a fearful expression on her face whenever her children are near a dragon, why Aegon is small, a speck of white hair and black boots next to a Sunfyre who is huge, so if Sunfyre loses it, even for a second, Aegon would be a dent in the ground.

And Sunfyre is extraordinarily gentle, he lowers his snout over Aegon and allows his riser's tiny baby hands to run over his golden scales and does not move to attack, not even when Aegon pushes his lips up and clamps two teeth between his tiny hands.

Rhaenyra feels her heart stop for a beat or two before it starts beating again.

— It's scary, isn't it? — Daemon asks, he's beside her, Caraxes's fire has finally died and the dragon seems calmer, curled up next to the piles of ash, as if on vigil.

— They're so small, so fragile. — she replies. — I know Sunfyre wouldn't hurt him, just as Caraxes and Syrax wouldn't hurt us, but… does Sunfyre have any idea how big he is?

Daemon lets out an amused laugh, he still looks tired of course, but suddenly amused.

— No, I don't think the big dog has any idea that he is much, much bigger than Aegon and that his body is no longer the size of a pony.

Rhaenyra chooses not to answer, watching as Sunfyre drops to the ground so Aegon can climb onto his belly, her little brother yells sōvēs to the dragon, who doesn't move, looking only too content to serve as a climb for his rider.

— We need to prepare a wedding. — Daemon whispers, after a few tense seconds of silence.

Rhaenyra wants to keep her face in a blank mask, like that's normal, like she and Daemon plan weddings every day, but she can't help it, her shoulders tense and her mouth twists into a sickly snarl.

Rhaenyra will not marry Laenor Velaryon, no matter how much her father puts the idea in her head, she will not, she refuses.

— I will not marry Laenor. — she finally answers. — I refuse and you cannot try to convince me. - she says, feeling a twinge of betrayal rise in her chest, she was under no illusions that Daemon would go against her father's orders, but she thought that after the night in the brothels he would at least fight for her.

— What? No, marry me. — Darmon finally looks at her, he looks scared for some reason. — That is, if you'd like to, of course.

Rhaenyra blinks rapidly, looking into Daemon's nervous face, he looks oddly scared and tugs at his shirt collar with one finger, as if he's about to be hanged.

— Sure, that would be great. — Rhaenyra replies, after clearing her throat, the silence that follows is the most awkward silence of her life. — But father won't give up on the alliance between the Velaryons and the Targaryens, he doesn't want Corlys to take offense and start a war.

— Don't worry. — Daemon says, and smiles beatifically. — Laenor won't be a problem for long.

— You're not going to kill him, are you? — she asks, because she can't stand not knowing, Laenor isn't exactly husband material, but he's Laena's little brother, and he's nice in a way that men usually aren't and Rhaenyra doesn't like to think she's going to lose Laena.

— No, but it's better that you don't know too much so you can lie if asked.

— Uh, of course… where's Helaena? — the talk about Laenor almost slips from her mind, because Helaena was close to Caraxes and now she is gone, Rhaenyra's heart is racing, her sister barely reaches her knees, she is a small child, plump and quiet. Helaena is so quiet that she fades into the background, she's easy to lose in a crowd.

— With Dreamfyre, Princess. — One of the dragonkeepers answers, and Rhaenyra can't remember his name but she does remember Alicent saying "names are important things, Rhaenyra"  and she knows she should remember, but she doesn't.

— Why? — She whispers, almost afraid, Dreamfyre is the most bad-tempered dragon that stays in the Dragonpit, she growls at and fitghts with everyone around her.

— The princess claimed Dreamfyre a few months ago. — The Dragonkeeper answers. — The Queen brought them both to see her dragons whenever she could.

Before she got too pregnant and too big for all that distance is what remains unsaid and it seems they all know a lot more about what happened to the Queen than she does.

And it's not that Rhaenyra didn't want to see her stepmother, but she couldn't bear to know that she never got to talk to Alicent after the horror that was the last few days, she couldn't bear to live in such a way.

— Can you get her? — she asks Daemon, because it seems things have finally settled in her head, Alicent is bedridden, her brother is dead, the father is being absent, Aegon, Helaena and the new baby will be orphans, without a mother, without any mother figure except for a sister who knows nothing about children.

Rhaenyra feels Daemon's hands wrap around her and hears Aegon being called back to the wheelhouse, she feels Helaena's little fingers holding her hand and wonders if Helaena will ever hold her mother's fingers again.

— I can not do this. — she whispers to Daemon, her father is looking out the window again, Helaena is dozing in Daemon's lap and Aegon has fallen asleep leaning against Rhaenyra, his mouth is slightly ajar and Rhaenyra's chest tightens for him. — I can't be a mother to them, I can't be what they need, I can't even take care of myself, how am I going to take care of them?

— Alicent isn't dead. — Daemon answers back. — She can't be, she wouldn't leave Aegon, or Helaena, or the baby, or you.

Rhaenyra sniffs and wipes the tears from the corners of her eyes, Alicent had promised, the day she married her father, that she would never leave Rhaenyra alone.

— Then why does it feel like she's leaving for good?

Daemon doesn't answer, but she knows he feels the same way, Daemon was never one to have many friends, he had his goldcloacks, he'd had the Master of Coin's clerks and he'd had his whores, who whispered secrets in his ear the more money he gave them.

But Daemon didn't have many friends, and more importantly, he didn't have many friends who liked him.

If Alicent died, he would be as alone as she was.

She carefully chooses not to think about it, it's much easier to ignore the fact that the only mother figure left in her life might die, than to actually deal with it.

Distracting Helaena and Aegon the first day Lady Ali is bedridden isn't so difficult, they let the two of them sleep as long as they can, then have breakfast, and after that Aegon has sword lessons which boil down to Ser Rickard being beaten by a wooden sword and Helaena clapping her hands, then they take the children to the Maester's lessons and Daemon takes Helaena on Caraxes' back and Rhaenyra takes Aegon on Syrax.

The two bathe and fall asleep so fast it's amusing to watch.

The second day is more difficult, putting Aegon to bed after he's eaten four treacle tarts means her brother would wake up with an upset stomach the next morning and absolutely grumpy.

— I want my mom. — Aegon’s high-pitched wail is enough to make everyone’s ears pop with pain.

— Your mother cannot come here now, my prince. — Alicent's maid, Pia, replies, and Rhaenyra is grateful that she has taken on the duty of caring for her siblings.

— Why not? — Aegon asks, still screaming, sitting on his bed, shirt off in his skimpy clothes, hollow cheeks and sad, wet eyes, Aegon looks like the definition of a kicked puppy.

— Because she is in a very important meeting with the King. — Pia replies, Aegon's face creasing into a truly ugly hue.

— Without giving me a kiss? — he asks looking destroyed, and Rhaenyra can't stay here anymore, she's running away again, leaving the responsibility of caring for her siblings to someone else and hiding, just like she did with Alicent, she left her stepmother alone for a few days because she wanted to have fun and her stepmother is dying and her siblings are practically orphans.

She lurks in the halls, staring at the door that separates Lady Ali from the world and wondering when she got so far away that she can barely remember the high-pitched laugh of the woman who was her best friend, then her mentor, then her almost-mother.

She stands in one spot for what seems like hours, watching the door with overwhelming intensity, Ser Arryk has switched places with Ser Steffon, and Ser Steffon is standing there, looking ready to collapse with boredom.

She hears footsteps and the door opens, sometimes the footsteps pass her by and sometimes she sees bloody towels and wonders if Alicent is dead, the news never comes and the bells never ring, she grows more and more relieved.

Rhaenyra hears the footsteps again and wonders if she should start worrying again.

— Daemon said you'd be here. — Laena's voice is accompanied by Cerelle's sweet scent.

— I can't imagine what I'm going to do if she dies.—  Rhaenyra chooses to answer because now the feelings seem to bubble up in her chest, as if they are bursting. — I don't know what I'm going to say to Helaena and Aegon or what their father is going to do, and my wedding? How am I going to be able to replace Lord Lyonel as Lord Hand when I'm going to take care of my three brothers? How am I going to be Queen if Alicent can't help me? Will father remarry? — She doesn't even realize that she's practically hysterical, sobbing between the sentences she says without stopping for a breath that she feels like she's drowning.

— Ser Criston Cole had his tongue cut out with scissors last night. — says Cerelle and Rhaenyra blinks. This is not even remotely close to herr current concerns, Ser Criston and his antiquated ideas could burn in Balerion's fire for what she cares.

— What?

— I heard Tyland the weirdo was talking about this yesterday. — Cerelle says, with an eye roll. — Apparently the Queen sent Ser Arryk for a pair of scissors and asked Ser Rickard to hold Ser Criston while she cut out his tongue herself on charges of treason.

— This has nothing to do with the Queen being almost dead. — Laena whispers and Rhaenyra is forced to agree with her.

— The accusations of treason were about you, Rhaenyra. — Lady Cerelle whispers, cat-green eyes drawn back in quick, feline cunning, "she knows"  Rhaenyra thinks with a flash of desperation, Lady Cerelle Lannister knows what Rhaenyra has done.

She should watch out, "all eyes are on you darling, you're the star, a future Queen that never existed before, they'll look at you from everywhere, from every angle, they'll dissect you until all that's left they are your bones and so they will look at them and find fault too, everything you say, do, eat or drink is reason to investigate, they are crows, hovering over you and will attack you when they see weakness, show them what you want what they see and not what they want to see", Lady Ali whispers in his ear.

— And then the Queen cut out his tongue so that no one else would know about the accusations. — Lady Cerelle continues, still as sharp as Dark Sister. — She cut out the tongue of Ser Criston Cole, a member of the Kingsguard because he said things about you, she also drove her own father out of town every time he came near you or your brothers, she protects you at all times that you do something wrong and scolds you every time because you know you need it.

— Cerelle. — Laena says, hesitantly, Lady Cerelle growls, like the animal that represents her house.

— The Queen has butted heads with the King more times than I can count, she constantly insults Daemon and uses the laws of the court as she sees fit, she walked over your father and made you take sword lessons. — Lady Cerelle's voice is rising. — She supports you in everything you want to do and helps you in what you can't and you're out here hiding from everyone while your siblings are motherless, your uncle is ruffling his hair trying to keep the Small Council untroubled, there's a nameless baby in that room who was never held by a mother, it's time you put on your big boy pants, Rhaenyra, and stop acting like a little girl just because the Queen isn't here to help you.

— I can't, she's… — Rhaenyra tries to protest, still a little in shock, a little guilty, the truth hurt.

— She's your mother, I know. — Cerelle rolls her eyes. — And they're your siblings, it's your family that's falling apart, Queen Alicent can't hold the weight of a family alone.

The declaration seems to hit a sore spot in her chest, because Alicent is not Aemma, she never will be, she doesn't have the silky silver hair, nor the kind violet eyes, nor the soft hands and the bright smile, she is not sweet, neither painfully kind nor not kind at all.

Alicent is a force of nature, a dragon in sheep's clothing who learned the games of court at the knees of a man who only wanted power, she is kind, yes, sweet, when she needs to and kind to those she loves, but she also has a cruel streak that made her cut out Ser Criston's tongue, and a silver tongue that makes her father turn to dough in her hands.

She also taught Rhaenyra to roam the court games in a way that mixes cruelty and kindness in equal measure.

Alicent taught that there is no place for the weak in the Game of Thrones, you either win or you die.

And Rhaenyra is too young to die.

— You are a cruel woman. — Rhaenyra says to Cerelle.

— Thanks. — Her friend smiles beatifically, green eyes gleaming, a shiver creeps up her spine and Rhaenyra remembers Lady Ali saying when a Lannister smiles, the rains cry in their halls.

—  Let's go. — she says, taking one last look at the door to Lady Ali's room. — We have things to do that can't wait. 

Lady Laena smiles at her, painfully cruel, as does Vhagar, Lady Cerelle smiles, like a cat that has caught a canary.

— We have a wedding to organize and a Kingdom to manage. — while my father turned incompetent is unspoken, Rhaenyra stands, adjusts her skirts and wipes her hands over her wet eyes. — Come on, we can't waste time.

— Oh, I love weddings. — Lady Cerelle says, clapping her hands excitedly.

The next few days are madness, between taking care of Aegon and Helaena, getting fitted for dresses, discovering that Ser Laenor has married and run away, her father being absent from Small Council meetings, and Rhaenyra takes her place, sitting at the table as Queen, King, Princess, giving orders to older men who don't respect her but obey her meekly.

Cerelle pretty much plans every aspect of the wedding and enlists Rhaenyra's help with the dress measurements and absolutely nothing else because "yourtaste is horrible Princess, if you could, you'd have everything in red and black"  and Rhaenyra finds herself agreeing that lilies are funeral flowers and that all tables must be away from Daemon so he doesn't insult anyone and no, Lord Otto cannot come to the wedding.

It's good progress now that Ser Laenor is wed, and she'll never forget Laena's hysterical giggles when she hears he's run off with Lady Jeyne.

The only place that doesn't have progress is with Aegon and Helaena.

It is the fifth day that Lady Alicent has been bedridden and it's the third day in a row that Aegon has only been screaming for his mother and Helaena is red in the face from crying, always repeating the sign for mother.

— And why can't my mother see me? I'm her little dragon, she told me. — Aegon repeats, still yelling, his little face is red and he's lost one of his socks and his shirt.

Helaena lets out high-pitched squeals and throws her little building blocks at every maid that comes near her.

— We should tell them. — Rhaenyra whispers to Daemon, who looks as tired as she does.

— And what answers would we have? — he asks back. — What are we going to say when they ask why she doesn't wake up or when she's going to wake up?

— I don't know. — she replies, feeling exhaustion eat into her bones. — But if we don't talk to them today, we'll have to talk to them tomorrow, and if not tomorrow, it'll be one day, and they'll keep being exhausting until then, and they'll throw things around and ask about her, and she'll never come.

— I was younger than Aegon when my mother died. — Daemon says, after an excruciatingly long silence. — I had three years to my name and I can still remember her, wrapped in a white cloth, being burned by Vhagar, I can remember the color of the flames and the searing heat she produced when she was burned, but I can't remember her face, whether she had violet eyes or not, whether she was short and fat or tall and thin, but I can remember the damn cloth and the feel of it in my fingers, I remember father crying and Viserys.

Daemon smiles again and it's painful, the memory of a child who lost his mother too young and something he didn't even understand.

— I don't want Aegon to remember his mother lying cold and dead in a bed that isn't even hers.

— Would you have seen her? —  Rhaenyra asks suddenly, feeling the strange emotions gnawing at her body, Daemon never talks about her feelings. — Princess Alyssa, your mother, would you have seen her, one last time, if you could?

Daemon doesn't respond and that's the answer Rhaenyra needs.

— We'll take them to see her, explain what we know and let them understand what they can, if she doesn't survive, at least they'll remember her sleeping. — Rhaenyra whispers, her throat tight with pain.

— Aegon, — Helaena. says Rhaenyra, finally breaking up the screaming fight, the maid looks relieved for a second and Rhaenyra feels sorry for the woman who had to stay with her siblibgs when they are like that, hateful little monsters who, frankly, make Rhaenyra wonder whether to let them stay totally wild wouldn't be best. — If you behave, bathe, eat your food and put on clean clothes, I will take you to see your mother myself.

Aegon appears to consider the offer, as does Helaena, who still has her mouth hanging open, deciding whether she will start screaming or accept the offer.

— You promise? —Aegon asks, little red eyes glistening with tears. — Really promise?

— I promise, all you have to do is eat, bathe, and put on clean clothes, and then we'll see Mom. —she replies firmly.

— Allright. — He extends a very small hand for Rhaenyra to shake, which she does firmly, and the maid practically falls to the floor in relief. — It's an agreement and you can't break it.

— Of course not. — she replies. — I promised as Princess and future Queen, I cannot break our agreement, it would be a violation of the terms of our contract. — Aegon nods vehemently, as if he knows what “violation” and “terms” mean. — Bath and clothes now.

Aegon and Helaena, surprisingly, run over to the tub, bouncing on their toes in excitement, the nursemaid looking at Rhaenyra as if she had just plucked the moon from the sky and handed it into their hands.

They dress remarkably quickly and eat even faster, Aegon still has the remains of chicken stuck on his cheek when he asks, very, very politely, "I want to see Mummy now, please, Nyra, thank you", and Helaena is nodding fervently.

Daemon picks up Aegon, the heavier of the two, and Rhaenyra carries Helaena, they retrace their steps silently to the birthing room, because Nana thought it best not to move the Queen until they knew if she was all right or not.

— Mommy. —  Aegon yells, squirming in Daemon's arms as soon as he sees Alicent, Helaena descends not long after and all Rhaenyra can do is… look.

Alicent is pale, sickly pale, with dark circles under her closed eyes, her hair is parted in the middle and her curls are combed but still greasy, her dress is white, almost the color of her skin, and there is a russet blanket pulled up. 

The scented candles, presumably to hide the tang of the blood, smell sickeningly sweet, almost like the candles at a funeral, the smell is suffocating and her breathing is suddenly heavier, as if the air is water.

With a second breath, Rhaenyra realizes that she can never forgive Alicent if she dies.

She will never forgive Alicent if she leaves her four children orphaned and a baby nameless, she will not, how dare Alicent think she can die in such a... painfully human way, she is so strong, a force to be reckoned with and she dares die like this?

No, Rhaenyra will never forgive her for that.

— Why doesn't mama wake up? — asks Aegon, after long seconds lying comfortably against Alicent, touching her hair, her hands and kissing her cheek.

Helaena carefully touches her mother's eyes and turns inquiringly to Rhaenyra and Daemon.

— Your mother had a baby. — she replies hesitantly, she doesn't want a sibling fight right now. — And sometimes, that's really, really bad for mothers and they get a little sick afterwards.

And she remembers her own mother, long before Baelon, lying in her bed, pale as death, thin as if she hasn't been able to eat in months, and as sad as a prisoner.

— Do we have a little brother? — Aegon asks, brows furrowed in discomfort.

— Yes.— Daemon answers. — He's here.

— Can we see him?

— Of course. — Daemon replies, moving to the crib by the window, he pulls a bundle out of the crib, a small bundle that moves a lot, and Rhaenyra has the sudden realization that this is the first time she's ever seen her brother.

Daemon holds the baby out so that Aegon and Helaena can see her little face, Rhaenyra can only see her head, covered in fine white hair that already appears to be wavy, just like Alicent's, she can also see a small hand moving from the blankets .

— He doesn't look big enough to hurt mother. — Aegon finally speaks, after he has looked at the baby for long moments. — How did he hurt mother if he's so little?

— It's not like that, Aegon, it's more like him being born makes mother sick. — Aegon’s eyebrows practically meet his hairline at Rhaenyra’s response.

— How are babies born? — he asks, looking even more confused. — How do babies get into their mothers' bellies?

Daemon lets out a startled cough and almost drops the baby.

— Why don't you ask your father? — Daemon suggests, looking ready to panic. — Or your mother, when she wakes up.

Aegon's brow furrows even more.

— Uncle Daemon, why can't you be my father?

Now it's Rhaenyra who's laughing at Daemon's startled face, his mouth open, looking at Aegon as if she's seeing him for the first time.

— You play with me, and you love me, and you love Helaena and Rhaenyra and you take me to see Sunfyre and you are not my father. — Aegon looks about to get angrier. — Why you're not my father?

Daemon's face scrunches up even more, as if he's swallowed a whole lemon, he seems to be in a state somewhere between scared and gleeful and terrified all at the same time.

— Did you know your brother doesn't have a dragon egg? — Rhaenyra intervenes quickly, changing the subject to the only other thing that catches Aegon's attention when he's in one of her moods. — What do you say we go find him an egg?

Aegon's face immediately lights up, forgetting the other worries he has, Daemon's face falls in such relief and he whispers thanks in her direction and Rhaenyra smiles gently.

Daemon will be a good father one day.

They leave the room later, Aegon kisses Alicent goodbye on the cheek and Helaena, who has slept too long, refuses to let go of the corners of the red blanket, Aegon also kisses the baby, who he gifted baby him a dragon egg the next day.

From then on, they visit Alicent every day, plan a wedding that her father will not be able to deny after the letters were sent and some lords already confirmed their presence and some were already coming to the capital to wish them well. 

And Rhaenyra is no fool, she knows full well that the best intentions ones involve unwed daughters and lust for the Throne.

And then the eighth day of waiting arrives and Alicent wakes up, practically late afternoon, almost dusk, she has tea with Aegon, braids Helaena's hair and names the baby Aemond, Daemon the idiot, looks so smug Rhaenyra wants to hit your stupid face.

She won't see her stepmother.

Mainly because she remembers that Ser Criston is battling a mouth infection and that there is no maester and that Alicent knows and Rhaenyra is ashamed, shame gnawing at her chest in a way that makes her cringe.

She hides with Cerelle, between choices of cake flavors, color palettes, which flowers to use, and who should sit with whom, filling her days with wedding talk and her nights with dinners with each family that arrives at the wedding.

And so, when Prince Aemond Targaryen is eighteen days old, Princess Rhaenyra and Prince Daemon's wedding is about to be celebrated in the dragonpit with every family that could make it and the city folk cheering and throwing flowers at them.

It's where Rhaenyra is now, trapped in her rooms with Laena and Cerelle, not Jeyne, because every time Rhaenyra thinks of marriages she remembers that Lady Jeyne Arryn ran away with Laenor Velaryon and dissolves into giggles.

— I don't have jewelry to wear. — Rhaenyra tells Cerelle and Laena with a grim realization, closing her jewelry box with a thud. — I thought I did, but I don't.

— And the emerald necklace? — Laena asks, frowning.

— It's green. — Cerelle responds. — It doesn't go with the white and gold dress. And the one you got from Prince Daemon?

— It's Valyrian steel, not very suitable for a wedding.

— She has no jewelry to wear. — Cerelle is starting to sound hysterical again. — The wedding is perfect, everyone is here and the Princess has no jewelry to wear, this is a disaster, a horror, an outrage, why didn't I think to check this out sooner?

Cerelle is positively more concerned about Rhaenyra's wedding than she is of herself, she has planned every aspect of the wedding and has taken care of the placement of every flower and everything has to be perfect.

— Have you looked into Queen Aemma's jewels? — Laena asks, very softly, almost shyly, it's one of the few Valyrian traditions the Targaryens didn't lose when the Targaryens conquered the Seven Kingdoms and began to worship the Faith of the Seven.

A mother always, always gives her daughter jewelry on her wedding day.

— Nothing new. — Rhaenyra whispers, harshly, her throat tight with pain. — It's all the same jewelry as before, I don't think she had time to prepare anything for me before she died.

— Oh. — Laena says, looking as sad as she does. — I am really sorry.

- Me too. Cerelle puts a supportive hand on her shoulder, she doesn't understand Valyrian traditions, but she respects them as best she can.

There's a knock on the door a few moments later.

— Prince Daemon, I told you, you can't see her until her wedding time. — Cerelle yells, looking very irritated and Rhaneyra feels her chest tighten. Ever since he learned he couldn't see her before they were in the dragonpit, Daemon had been very interested in finding out what she was dressed like and had tried at every opportunity.

— Oh well, I'm definitely shorter than Daemon. — the Queen's voice replies, slightly amused. — And prettier.

— I just yelled at the Queen. — Cerelle whispers, her eyes the size of tea plates. — I think I'm going to faint.

— You've been avoiding me. — Alicent says, entering the room already dressed for the wedding, her dress is blood red, silk, very well fitted to the body and shows her thin shoulders as well as the beginning of her breasts, one of those dresses that Alicent herself says are for occasions where you need to kill people without drawing blood from them.

She holds a wooden box the size of the palm of her hand, it looks very elaborate, like a very fancy gift.

— What? — squeals Rhaenyra, her voice too high-pitched for the situation, Laena lets out a fake giggle and leaves the room with Cerelle, traitors . — Of course.

Alicent blinks, slowly and furrows her brows, just like Aegon.

— Of course. —  Alicent replies, rolling her eyes. — I brought you a present.

And then she hands the little wooden box  with a very peculiar look on her face, it's sad, it's hurt, but mostly it hurts in a way that it only gets when she remembers her mother.

Rhaenyra opens the box and feels her heart race.

It's a jewelry box, on top of a red cushion is a delicate necklace with a pendant smaller than a coin, it's gold, but white, it glows when the candlelight fills the room.

— Your mother was a clever woman, Rhaenyra. I think she knew she was going to die long before the rest of us and took precautions that her daughter was never left alone. — Queen Alicent replies.

Rhaenyra doesn't answer, her throat too tight for that, but she finally plucks up the courage to take the necklace in her hand, the front of the pendant is carved with a nearly perfect likeness of Syrax, the back is small, curled lettering in her little mother's handwriting. "Star" in High Valyrian.

— Will you put it on me? — she asks Alicent, her voice breaking, but her stepmother never saying anything.

— If you want to run away, just tell me, and I'll stop the wedding on the spot. — Alicent says wisely, almost in a whisper, fastening the necklace around her neck.

— I don't think I will.—  Rhaenyra replies and thinks of Daemon's bright smile and how she loves him so much her chest feels ready to burst. — I don't think I ever will.

Alicent nods her head in somber, if amused, acceptance.

— I'm not mad at you. — her stepmother finally says and Rhaenyra's heart races, Alicent takes the wooden box in her hands and takes out the velvet cushion. — I could never be, you're my… well, my child, I might be a little mad, but I'll protect you whenever I can.

There's a small letter envelope in Alicent's hands, she looks a little nervous, a little hesitant.

— I know I'm not your mother, but I figured you'd appreciate the gift. — She holds out the envelope gently and Rhaenyra takes it gently.

A pair of small, sparkling white gold earrings fall into her hand and Rhaenyra can barely stop herself from launching herself at Alicent.

— You are. — she whispers into her stepmother's neck, her scent is the same as she had before she was bedridden. — You're my mother too and so is Mother Aemma and I'm so sorry I let you and Mother Aemma down and I didn't come visit you and you scared the hell out of me and I…

— All good. — Alicent says, rubbing her back. — No crying, you're the bride and you have to look stunning on your big day, and you could never, ever let me down, make me a little mad yes, but not let me down.

Rhaenyra takes a deep breath, feeling her chest lighten, her hand tightens around the earrings in her hands and she takes another deep breath, she pulls away from Alicent's embrace and looks into her stepmother's face.

— You are crying. — she notes accusingly.

— I am the mother of the bride, it is my right to cry rivers of tears at your wedding. — Alicent fires back and Rhaenyra can't help but laugh.

She puts earrings in her ears and looks at herself in the mirror, her hair is braided up with little rubies inbetween the braids, her white and gold dress is perfect, just what she imagined and she feels radiant in her necklace and earrings. 

— Don't forget to pick up Aemond for the Valyrian wedding celebration. — Alicent says, she smiles now, so beautiful and so young, so different from the woman Rhaenyra hated for leaving her a few days ago.

— You are not going?

— Oh, dear. — Alicent says, with a wink, her red dress rustling as she turns to leave the room. — As much as I'm surrounded by you Targaryens, I'll never be one.

— Where are you going? — Rhaenyra asks, a little confused, she thought Alicent was going to stay with her until it was time for the wedding.

— To threaten Daemon, of course.

Of course.

— The wedding of Princess Rhaenyra and Prince Daemon was the most anticipated event of the year 114 AC, and as much as the Queen had made it clear that Aegon would never sit on the Iron Throne, Otto Hightower's supporters wanted nothing more than a rebellion, to place the little Prince on the Iron Throne.

— Did they succeed in inciting the rebellion?

— The Greens, as appointed by Lord Otto tried, but they would never be anything without a supporter with more power than a former Lord Hand who was despised by the Queen, so Lord Otto convinced his Hightower supporters that the Queen wanted her son to sit in the seat. Iron Throne.

— She supported them?

— No, Arya, Queen Alicent chose a side that night, and it was Princess Rhaenyra, after which rebellion died quickly in the hearts of all but Otto Hightower.

- Maester Alleras, to Arya Dayne, future Sword of the Morning and first daughter of Lord Eddard "Ned" Dayne and Lady Ashara Dayne