RHAENA
Rhaena's eggs would not hatch.
She crouched for hours before the burning hearth where the eggs rested, as the old maids of Dragonstone said that the fires would give life to the eggs. The hearth in Rhaena's room was where Queen Rhaenys hatched her dragon Meraxes if the tales be true. Rhaena prayed to the Seven, for Septa Morose said that the Maid favoured the pure and the Mother favoured the kind. Yet the hard shells on the eggs stayed intact, and the heat licked Rhaena's face when she got too close.
Syrax's last clutch was beautiful, three chubby eggs that Rhaena had to cradle in two hands.
The first egg was as black as night, dotted with shimmering stars. She imagined that the dragon that would emerge from the egg would be as fierce as the Black Dread but also beautiful, that the realm would look and wonder as to a star on a moonless night. She would name that dragon Starlight.
The second egg was as pink as the dawn, dotted with the black specks that were the last remnants of the night's darkness. The dragon that would emerge from that egg would be as lovely as a new day when the sun rose on its pink scales. She would name that dragon Morning.
The last egg was as blue as the midday sky. Not the deep sea-blue of Jace's Vermax or Daeron's Tessarion, but the light blue of the daylight heavens, with shimmers of white that were the clouds. The dragon that would emerge from the last egg would be as magnificent as the midday sun shining upon endless green fields. She would name that dragon Glory.
That is, if the eggs would hatch, Rhaena stared as the fires shimmered and danced about the silent ovals that held dragons within. There would be no Starlight or Morning or Glory for Rhaena if the eggs remained still as stone.
Rhaena had asked her father, her cousins, even her grandmother when she came to visit, when her eggs would hatch, but they had all bade her wait. Rhaena knew that they did not care, because they already had enough dragons. Rhaenyra had one, Father had one, Grandmother had one, all three of her Velaryon cousins rode dragons, and even her sister Baela had the pale green Moondancer. They did not need Rhaena's dragon.
"The princess spare," Rhaena's remembered Mushroom's jape at her at one feast. Luke, who had sat beside her, had laughed in mirth, and Rhaena remembered Mushroom's words which seemed to echo ever true. She was the princess spare of Dragonstone, the one no one cared about unless some accident befell the true princess. Every eye was on Baela, the true princess who rides a dragon, who shall be queen when Jace is king.
Why Baela, who only had her place because she crawled from their mother's womb a few seconds before Rhaena did? Rhaena was certain that it was those few ambitious seconds that strained their mother so much that she could never bear another child. When she bore their father another son, that killed her. No, Baela killed her. If Baela had not wanted so badly to crawl first, tame a dragon, and be queen, both of them would still have a mother.
She is the one with the dragon, Rhaena wrenched herself away from the hearth and looked outside, at Moondancer tethered in Daenys's Yard. Baela had already ridden the dragon for a fourth time the day before the king died, and all that while Father had accompanied her on Caraxes. All the while leaving Rhaena to the company of Septa Morose and her handmaids. Rhaena was glad that Moondancer was still too small for Baela, and her sister had to touch down after limping a brief flight from the castle to the Dragonmont. Yet there was naught for Rhaena to do until Starlight or Morning or Glory hatched.
When she least wished it, a knock rang on her chamber door. She knew the heavy-handed knock that was the sign of Septa Morose.
"I am done with my lessons, Septa," Rhaena answered,"I wish for some time alone."
"Your father has summoned you, young lady," Septa Morose said.
This time, Rhaena did open the door,"Is it Her Grace the queen?" Rhaena would never call that woman mother. Her true mother, before Father married again, had been killed by Baela.
"It is not my place to say, my princess," Septa Morose said. She was not an old woman, but she looked old. If she had been beautiful once, she did not show it beneath her lilac linen wimple and stern features. At her sides were Rhaena's two handmaids, Laena Celtigar and Ceryse Cafferen. Celtigar was a little thing with pointed eyes and a thin chin. Cafferen was as tall and plump as a haystack, with pouty lips and a long nose. To round out the retinue was the short Ser Harrold Darke who was Rhaena's sworn sword, and two aged men-at-arms who had been at Dragonstone since the Old King, whom Rhaena only called Greybeard and Whitebeard. There it is, Rhaena sighed, The sad retinue of the princess spare.
Rhaena could hear the screams as she ascended the steps of Sea Dragon Tower. Shrill torturous echoes bounced about the tight stone walls and threatened to make them ever tighter. Rhaena was no stranger to the screams, for sometimes the winds carried the voice to the Stone Drum where Rhaena's chambers lay. She was only surprised that it had gone on for so long, since Ceryse had said that Rhaenyra had given birth to her daughter in the morning. The daughter emerged a twisted little monster, with a hole in her chest and a stubby, scaled tail. Mayhaps that was why Rhaenyra was still screaming.
"My princess," Ser Humfrey Lark greeted Rhaena at the top of the steps, behind him standing twenty of the Dragonstone garrison.
"Where is my father?" Rhaena asked.
"Inside, my princess," Ser Humfrey answered. When Rhaena made to enter, Ser Humfrey stopped her: "Your father has bid my princess wait outside."
"Is Baela in there with Father?" Rhaena asked.
"She is your father's cupbearer," Ser Humfrey answered.
I know, Rhaena thought. Far from seeing justice for killing their mother, Baela had received a reward from Father. All because Baela could ride a dragon. Rhaena swore that she would also ride a dragon to match her sister.
The door slammed open, Rhaena's father storming outside with Baela and his two guards Caswan and Lapel close at his heels. Baela saw Rhaena and smiled, though Rhaena knew that it was false, a show for all the guardsmen. Her monkey Egg perched atop her shoulder, baring his fangs to reveal Baela's true intent. She only had pity for Rhaena, the poor little princess spare with no dragon.
Behind her father, Rhaena could hear Rhaenyra's harsh screams that she could scarce make out. She thought mayhaps that Rhaenyra was screaming: "Traitor."
Ser Humfrey stepped up to Rhaena's father and bowed,"Prince Daemon. How fares the queen?"
"Her Grace is still not cured of the birthing sickness," Rhaena's father said,"Send for Gerardys, and under no circumstances can the queen leave her chambers. The Kingsguard shall not give you trouble, for they know to listen to my commands rather than the queen's madness." "Also," he commanded,"Send a man to Daenys's Yard, and I want Hugh Waters to attend me at the Painted Table and give me a report of how Syrax fares without her mistress." Then, he turned to Rhaena,"Daughter. I have no further need of you. My apologies for the summons, but it was when I thought Her Grace not mad."
"Father," Rhaena shook her head, knowing that she must not let this opportunity slip,"It was Septa Morose who delivered your summons. If the Seven have arranged for my arrival, then your duty today shall still require my presence."
"Very well," her father waved his hand,"Join me and Baela at the Painted Table, but you are not to speak unless asked. Understood?"
Rhaena nodded, for she did not have much to speak anyway.
"Sis," Baela walked up to her, Egg watching, and Rhaena could not slip away.
"Sister," Rhaena returned her greeting,"What happened in the queen's chamber?"
"Her Grace threw a vase at Father," Baela answered,"This one had been a gift from the Sealord of Braavos. It was a beautiful thing, Yi Ti jade inscribed with swirling gold patterns and glittering sapphires. As it shattered, its pieces looked like any other rock."
"Why?" Rhaena asked, confused.
"Why?" Baela echoed, raising her brows,"Father went to the queen's chamber, hopeful that she had healed since her stillbirth, wishing to discuss with her the coronation. Instead, the queen accused him of sending our dear cousins into the fires and dangers of the realm without consulting her, their mother."
"They are not going to war," Rhaena said,"They are to act as Her Grace's envoys."
"Father told her that," Baela snorted,"but she demanded why he did not have her sons swear on a Seven-Pointed Star to just act as envoys. As if that would stop me from breaking Cousin Aemond's nose if I met him at Storm's End or the Eyrie."
"Was she raging at Father?" Rhaena asked.
"Worse," Baela answered,"Her Grace then accused Father of sending away all three of her sons with Uncle Laenor so that they would die and our brother Aegon would inherit the Iron Throne. That was when Her Grace started screaming, calling Father a traitor equaling the Hightowers. I feared for a moment that the queen meant to set her Kingsguard on us, but then I remembered that all three of them were Father's men."
"When shall Her Grace be crowned, then?" Rhaena asked.
Baela laughed,"At this rate, we are most like to crown Jace before her."
"Quiet, daughters," their father said,"Listen at the Painted Table, and you may speak thereafter."
"Syrax is… temperamental," Hugh said, standing at the Painted Table, his thick blacksmith's hands resting on the Gullet and Shipbreaker Bay.
"As mad as her mistress, you mean," Rhaena's father said,"You need not pretty your words with me, Waters. Just tell me if you can control her."
"The dragon is wild," Hugh answered,"It eats twice as more as it had before King Viserys's death, and terrifies Moondancer and Stormcloud. Only my prince's dragon can keep Syrax in check from ravaging the castle."
"I did not ask about whether Caraxes can control Syrax," Daemon said,"I asked whether you could control Syrax. You have blood of the dragon in you, flowing from one of Lord Aenar's many dragonseeds. I intend to ride Caraxes to Harrenhal, and I want assurances that the queen shall not burn Dragonstone down in her madness the moment I leave."
"I cannot, my prince," Hugh said, his voice hard as a hammer,"The dragon roars every hour in the direction of King's Landing, timely breathing streams of fire around her. It is all we could do to get the food to her, and the castle has already lost a cook and three serving girls that way."
"Prince Daemon," Lord Bartimos Celtigar said,"Her Grace's loyalists are gathering all across the Crownlands, the Sea Snake's fleet ferrying them to Rook's Rest. As of now, Staunton's castle hosts a force five thousand strong, of Massey of Stonedance, Bar Emmon of Sharp Point, the Crabbs of both Dyre Den and Brownhollow, the Blounts of the Barren, the Darklyns and Darkes of Duskendale, and five hundred of my own Claw Isle men. They shall be ready within two nights, and only wait for my prince and Caraxes to begin the assault on Harrenhal. We cannot delay any longer for the sake of the queen. Take Her Grace with us if she cannot be left here alone, and name a loyal man as castellan of Dragonstone."
"A loyal man," Rhaena's father looked at Lord Bartimos,"I should take it that my lord means yourself."
Lord Bartimos knelt,"I am honoured that my prince thinks me a loyal man, and I shall not fail your trust. My second son Meryn can take command of the Claw Isle men at Rook's Rest in my place."
"You?" Baela laughed,"Father, you would do well not to leave me in his custody." She swept around to face Celtigar,"I shall put my full weight behind my lord's proposal if my lord would do for me one thing. Face me and Moondancer in battle."
"That is no fair fight," Lord Bartimos said,"What honour is there in facing me, a feeble lord with no dragon?"
"A feeble lord with no dragon," Baela echoed mockingly, Egg leaping onto the Painted Table and snarling,"My lord said it yourself. You have no dragon. What shall my lord do when Sunfyre, Vhagar, and Dreamfyre descend upon Dragonstone? No doubt surrender all the royal household to them for a keep and a pretty penny."
"Prince Daemon," Lord Bartimos said, ignoring Baela,"There is no time to waste. You must march this very moment for Harrenhal, and take the whole royal household with you if you do not trust the fortress of Dragonstone to its castellan. Every loyal man in the Seven Kingdoms would be honoured to receive the royal house. Whilst the queen lies in sickness, name yourself the Hand of the Queen, Prince Regent and Protector of the Realm, so that my prince may have the authorities to act in all that is necessary to preserve her reign."
Rhaena could not read her father's expression, but she knew that he was on the verge of conceding to Lord Bartimos. He knew to listen to reason rather than Baela's rash impulses. "My prince," Rhaena heard the voice of her father's guard Caswan at the door as the guard knocked his three taps,"Maester Gerardys requests an audience."
"Daughters," Rhaena's father said,"Before I have Maester Gerardys enter, would you venture a guess as to what he has come to tell me?"
Was Gerardys Father's creature? Rhaena wondered. She was certain that all the men that made any matter on Dragonstone were her father's men, so she answered her father in an instant: "He comes to say that Her Grace is still not cured, and that my prince should claim the regency."
Her father shook his head, and Baela then answered: "He comes to tell Father that Rhaenyra is not as mad, and comes to plead with Father to set her free. The maester is Her Grace's creature."
"That is correct," their father answered,"Send him in." "How fares Her Grace?" he asked Gerardys when the maester entered with his chain swaying heavily about.
"The queen is quiet," Gerardys said,"Her mind has calmed of the madness of childbirth. My prince should take pity on her, for she felt in three days her father's death, a usurper take her crown, and the stillbirth of her child, a mother's greatest fear. Yet Her Grace's strength is indomitable, and she has endured. Tried a little at times, but she has endured. It is my counsel to my prince that she be let out of her chamber to assume her duties."
Their father said naught in answer, his eyes watching the Painted Table as the pieces stood silent upon them. "Prince Daemon," Caswan burst from the door, a worried expression on the young man-at-arms's beardless face and mouse-like eyes,"The sentries reported a dragon emerging from the south."
"What colour is the dragon?" Rhaena's father asked. The answer he received was white. "Baela," he then said,"Go with Waters to Ser Humfrey, and prepare a welcoming party for the prince. He has returned a hero." Rhaena's father did not even look at Rhaena, even though Luke was her betrothed. Not that Rhaena wanted to greet that strutting fool who cared naught about her. "Rhaena," her father's voice said,"You shall accompany me as we greet your betrothed."
Rhaena, escorted by her feeble retinue, stepped out onto the stones of Daenys's Yard, the stone dragon statues staring at her with their marble eyes. There were no pupils in those eyes. Syrax was huffing at the other side of the yard, but her father's blood-red dragon kept it in check. Ser Humfrey had sent Ser Durran Bar Emmon with thirty men as a welcoming party for Luke. It was Rhaena's father who stood at the head of the party, Baela at one side and Hugh Waters on the other, watching the skies for Luke's dragon. Rhaena spied Baela timely glancing sideways towards Moondancer, and Rhaena bit her lip. Rhaena would have been a better princess than her sister, not so easily swayed from her duty by a dragon.
It was when Arrax drew closer that Rhaena noticed that something was amiss. From the dragon's flight, it seemed that it did not have a rider. Her heart lay at rest when she saw that Luke was huddled about the dragon's neck. Yet her heart bubbled again as the dragon drew closer. Luke's arms did not hug the dragon's neck, instead hanging limp at Arrax's sides. The white dragon roared, and Syrax, Moondancer, and Stormcloud looked up to give an answer. Far up the Dragonmont in the caves, all the dragons roared to greet their kin.
Arrax soared above Daenys's yard, not landing. Rhaena's father looked back, and Rhaena followed his head to where Arrax flew. It seemed that Arrax was riding towards the cave upon the Dragonmont where Meleys had laid Arrax's egg alongside that of Vermax and Tessarion fifteen years ago.
"Luke's not in control of his dragon," Rhaena's father shouted,"Send for Maester Gerardys," he shouted at one of the men-at-arms,"He is to meet me at the Red Roost." "Baela," he commanded,"Ride Moondancer to the Dragonmont, and see what happened to Luke."
"Follow me on Caraxes," Baela said, but their father shook his head.
"Caraxes shall spook Arrax," their father said, then waved his hand,"Do not tarry, daughter." Baela nodded, running to Moondancer and mounting her in one swift stroke. She tied the chains on the saddle to her belt, untethered the dragon from one of the pillars, and with three whips urged Moondancer into the sky. Rhaena could watch as her sister roared, her heart dropping ever lower. She could only follow her father, walking upon the castle's cobbles whilst their father's eyes followed Baela through the skies.
The Red Roost was full of bones and a reeking stench, for Meleys had not lived in the cave since Princess Rhaenys had claimed her, and only returned to lay her clutches of eggs. There were no less than fifty men standing outside the cave when Rhaena arrived with her father and Maester Gerardys, pushing aside the others to approach the cave's opening.
"Father," Baela was there, watching and stroking Egg,"Luke is in there, but Arrax would not let anyone close to him. Not even Moondancer."
"Go back to the castle, Baela," Rhaena's father answered, then glimpsed Baela's dragon not far away roosting on a ledge,"Take Moondancer for another ride, and if you need help, seek Hugh." Whilst they spoke, Rhaena stepped forward, approaching Meleys's cave. The smooth rocks, polished by dragonflame, shone as red as Meleys's scales whenever the sun rose. Or set, Rhaena thought, eyeing the sun begin to dip below the western sky.
There, she found Arrax, snarling as smoke blew from the dragon's nostrils. As Rhaena stepped forward a step, she imagined that the dragon began to quiet. She stepped forward again, sure that in this she would surpass her sister. Whilst Baela fled, the singers would say, the princess spare tamed the dragon.
"Get back, Rhaena," her father shouted, and she felt Ser Harrold's thick arms pull her aside. "Let me go," Rhaena tried to struggle out of Ser Harrold's grip, but his hands were firm. "Get my daughter back," she heard her father shout as he cracked his whip, and Arrax snarled again but retreated into the cave. As her father cracked the whip again and again, Arrax backed away step by step, until the dragon's wings unfolded to reveal a boy sprawled beneath. Her father gestured for Gerardys to come forward as he cracked his whip, his eyes never leaving that of Arrax. Gerardys rushed forward, and when he returned, Rhaena saw Luke cradled in the maester's large arms. Dried blood that ran from one of Luke's eyes.
Aemond, Rhaena thought, The usurper sent him to Storm's End. An eye for an eye. Rhaena did not pity her betrothed. Luke should have known what had been his due when he cut out the prince's eye. So long as Luke kept his life, Rhaena was even a bit amused by Aemond's idea of justice.
"Gerardys," her father yelled from inside the cave,"Get Luke to a bed in Sea Dragon Tower, and make certain that he survives."
"Yes, my prince," Gerardys said as he lifted Luke whilst Rhaena's father stared down Arrax, timely cracking his whip. When both the maester and Luke were beyond the cave's entrance, her father stepped back step by step, making certain that he did not break his glance with Arrax. When at last her father retreated from the cave and heard the dragon's roar inside, he assigned ten men as the keepers of the Red Roost should Arrax not ride forth to hunt, slaughtering a lamb for every one of Arrax's meals.
Rhaena did not speak to her father as they returned, and he did not speak to her. She was certain that he knew that he had shamed Rhaena in front of Dragonstone, but he did not care. He only cared of Baela, not the princess spare. "Prince Daemon," Lord Bartimos's silver hair and lilac eyes greeted them when they returned to the castle, and Rhaena hoped a last vain hope that Lord Bartimos would present a chance for her,"When shall my prince ride for Rook's Rest? I shall follow on the Red Crab."
"You may sail forth on the Red Crab to Rook's Rest," Rhaena's father commanded,"and there, command Princess Rhaenys that she is to have command of the host that marches for Harrenhal."
"What of my prince?" Celtigar asked.
"I shall not leave here alone a mad woman and a one-eyed prince," Rhaena's father said,"Caraxes shall patrol the seas and guard Lord Corlys's blockade of King's Landing as Princess Rhaenys had done, and at the same time my dragon and I shall guard Dragonstone from the usurpers."
He saw the wheels behind Lord Bartimos's eyes turn, and soon the lord was nodding his head,"Very well, my prince, but I do not have the authority to command Princess Rhaenys."
"Tell her that my lord is Hand of the Queen," her father said,"as appointed by Prince Daemon of the House Targaryen, Prince Regent of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm." Rhaena knew that her father made Lord Bartimos Hand to be more than a messenger. Lord Bartimos would be there at Harrenhal to watch Princess Rhaenys, and make certain that the Queen Who Never Was did not emerge a queen. But Rhaena did not care of that.
"What of me?" Rhaena asked her father,"May I accompany Lord Bartimos to Rook's Rest?"
"War is no place for little girls," her father said as he turned away.