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The Queen Who Should Have Been and the King Who Was

The Dread is Gone from The World

"Does she sleep?" the Prince of Dragonstone asked. "I mean, ever?"

Rhaenys shrugged and the infant in her arms turned her violet eyes at Baelon to stare indignantly. He smiled. "I didn't mean to offend," he apologized but little Laena Velaryon was not placated; her face crunched but she didn't start crying.

"It happens from time to time," her mother explained. "She sleeps best when we're riding Meleys."

"So, we have a dragonrider from the cradle here," Baelon concluded and determinedly pushed the thought that he might have made a mistake away. Aemma had just suffered another miscarriage. He was starting to doubt whether she'd ever give him grandsons. Rhaenys looked as vibrant as ever, fully recovered from the birth only a few moons ago. He had heard that she had gone back on Meleys only two weeks later.

"May I hold her?" the Queen asked. "Or is she going to be afraid of me?"

Rhaenys shook her head. "She isn't. She'll come to you. I've heard that many babes this young are afraid of strangers but she rarely is. I don't know why."

Strangers, Alysanne Targaryen mused, cuddling the child. It's so sad that we'll be strangers to her. Her granddaughter had taken Jaehaerys' decision with grace and dignity but it had opened a rift between them. Alysanne huffed in despair, giving the babe her hand to stare entranced at the glittering sapphire on her ring-finger. Men could be so unpredictable when it came to matters of heart or power and when those two combined, they were invulnerable to reason. They should have just wed Rhaenys to Viserys but no, it hadn't been allowed to happen. Even her husband, ever praised for his wisdom, was very wrong about those two. Viserys was kind but not weak; Rhaenys was strong but not rude. There was no reason for the marriage not to work… or their joint rule. Instead, the men had alienated Rhaenys and were now exerting undue pressure on Aemma. As if she would wish for anything else than a living child! As if she thwarted their grand plans on purpose!

As if she had read her grandmother's thoughts, Rhaenys rose. "I'll go to see Aemma," she said, motioning to Laena's nursemaid to come and take the child. "I suppose Viserys will also be there?"

"He might," Baelon said. "Or he might be up to something useful, like finding himself a new dragon."

Rhaenys sighed impatiently. "Balerion has been dead only in a fortnight…"

"So Viserys has been dragonless for a fortnight already," her grandfather said. "He has to tame one of the other dragons. Vhagar would make a lovely mount for him."

Startled by the irritation in their voices, Laena gave a warning cry – just one, so they would know she was disgruntled. Alysanne rocked her but the babe startled wriggling until the Queen was forced to leave her on the nearest table where Laena immediately calmed down.

Leave Viserys alone, Rhaenys wanted to yell. She could not even imagine Meleys being dead and she pressured into finding another dragon so soon after her death. People grieved for their dead horses, for the Seven's sakes, and dragons were so much more. Now, besides his grief, he had to deal with the pressure of those two who were actively trying into turning him into the ruler they thought would be perfect. For the throne that should have belonged to me. As usual, she chased the thought away. There had never been someone who had been helped by self-pity.

Of course, she didn't share her thoughts. It wasn't as if her grandfather and uncle were interested in them anyway. She had only come to present her daughter in the Red Keep and nothing more. She might have been passed over but Laena was of Targaryen blood and Rhaenys would make sure that she received all the benefits coming from that.

"May I keep the little one here while you come back?" Alysanne asked and despite the soft tone, that was not a question. Rhaenys didn't protest. Laena would be as well cared for here as she would be anywhere else.

She kissed the little girl and Laena gurgled in reply but didn't start crying when her mother headed for the door. She was a strange, self-sufficient child.

In her cousins' chambers, Rhaenys found Aemma sitting in front of the hearth, shivering slightly as her attendants hovered nearby; with a single gesture of her hand and a small smile, the young woman waved them away and turned at Rhaenys, smiling. "I am so glad to see you," she said. "So happy. The Red Keep has been terribly dull without you."

"Why, thank you, kind lady!" Rhaenys said and went to hug her. Drawing back, she assessed her cousin quickly and didn't like what she saw. Aemma was terribly thin, her eyes were swollen and bruised black, like those of the sleep-deprived. Her skin was too pale, even more so against her dark hair, and the pulse throbbed erratically on her temple. "I've missed you."

"And I, you." Aemma smiled. "What is the Red Keep without you? But I heard there were many good things happening to you. My ladies say you've brought the little one with you?"

Rhaenys looked around. She had always had things of luxury but with Aemma, it looked sad and somehow tragic: the thick carpets that drowned one's feet, the tapestries with flowers and mountains from her distant Vale home, the silks and velvets everywhere, the huge looking-glass, the windows open with the futile hope of letting some of the sun in this day of 94 year after Aegon's Crowning in. Beauty and perfection. Aemma clung to them so desperately.

"I have," Rhaenys said, carefully. "I left her with the Queen." She smiled a little, eager to change the topic. "Is Viserys here?" she asked and immediately realized that she had said something wrong.

Aemma's waxy face went even paler. "No," she said sharply. "And I don't want to know where he is."

Such an outburst was so untypical of kind, polite Aemma that Rhaenys only stared at her in astonishment as Aemma offered her some refreshments. "What's going on here? Grandfather and Uncle Baelon are ready to place Viserys under guard, it seems, if he doesn't bond another dragon… yesterday. Grandmother speaks only when she needs to. Daemon seems to be as uncontrollable as ever. Viserys has disappeared somewhere…"

Aemma's hands shook over the silver jug as she poured tea for both of them. "Your beloved cousin is mourning this dragon more than he ever did our children," she snapped. "That's getting ridiculous. Balerion was never human. He cannot be this important to Viserys, yet he behaves as if the Doom had come again. He doesn't sleep. He doesn't talk to me. I can only hope he mourns my death half as much!"

"Oh Aemma," Rhaenys breathed, feeling desperately sorry for both of them. She could only imagine what Aemma was going through, having lost another babe and now her husband's closeness as he mourned a loss she could not possibly understand. "You don't mean it."

"I do." There was a defensive flash in Aemma's eyes before it died away and she leaned back in her chair. "And I happen to think that Grandfather and Uncle Baelon are right. He should just ride another dragon and be done with showing this heartbroken face to the world. It's unbelievable!"

I'd like to see Grandfather and Uncle Baelon losing their dragons, Rhaenys thought and touched Aemma's hand again. Only when I see them acting as if their dragons are so very replaceable will I think them justified to ask it of Viserys.

All of a sudden, her hands flew to her face and didn't quite reach it before she slumped in her chair and the world went black. Next thing she knew, Aemma was leaning over her and the Grand Maester was congratulating her on her new pregnancy.

"I can't believe it!" she burst out as soon as she heard it. "Laena is not a year old yet. I don't want to get with child so soon after and I am certainly not giving birth again!"

Aemma's face changed so much that upon seeing her, Rhaenys immediately regretted this childish outburst. But her cousin only smiled faintly, reading her expression correctly. "You should rejoice," Aemma said as the Grand Maester gathered his things. "I want to have a child more than I have ever wanted anything else."

"I know."

Rhaenys reached for Aemma's hand and noticed the reflection of the candlelight dancing off it. Her spell must have been quite short, for it was not quite dark yet. "I know," she said again. "You will."

As much as she tried to think of Aemma, thoughts about her own life kept sneaking in. She couldn't wait to go to Corlys and tell him, feel his arms around her, start refurnishing the nursery in Driftmark. Aemma is right, she thought and embraced her. I should rejoice. I do rejoice.

The hiss and flame of five dragons had turned to be enough to scare all those catering to them away. By the look of it, there had been an accident with the feeling, although Rhaenys couldn't quite say what it was. Angry winds and rampant shrieks, thumping tails and bloodied scales followed her through her way to Meleys; relieved, Rhaenys saw that her she-dragon was untouched, just annoyed. For a while, she stood there, touching Meleys' leg and whispering to her, until she spotted the glint of a silvery-gold hair not far away from her, where the turn of the hallway led to yet some others stalls.

"Aemma has been looking for you," she said, going near.

His expression didn't change, his eyes still fixed the dragons with unbearable mix of hunger and grief, and envy. It was startling to see the ever smiling, carefree Viserys looking so utterly confused, as if he had lost his way in life. Thinking back, Rhaenys remembered how important had it been for him to tame a dragon, to tame Balerion, to make everyone look at him with respect. Aemma isn't a dragonrider, she thought. She can never understand. And Jaehaerys and Baelon who were – they were too blinded by their perception of Viserys as somewhat malleable to stop and think what they would have done in his shoes.

"He wasn't replaceable," Viserys suddenly spoke and the determination in his eyes gave her pause. "I am not taking another dragon just because they feel that I should."

Malleable, what not! Rhaenys thought to herself. One needed tremendous amount of strength to refuse an order from either the Old King or the Prince of Dragonstone.

The hissing and spitting had doused the torches but the flames dragons gave out lit the scene all the same. Rhaenys took Viserys' hand, the same way she had done with Aemma's, and squeezed. There were no words needed, no sympathies. Just the soft warmth of her silent presence. He squeezed back.