As Rhaena was no longer able to act as Sansa's handmaiden whilst in recovery, it appeared a new one was provided for her in her place though Sansa complained about her a great deal. When she came to visit Rhaena, she vented of how the handmaiden had no clue how to properly serve a lady and had to be told what to do over every little thing which was not helping Sansa's fragile mind as she was close to fracturing at this point. Rhaena smiled and stretched out her hand, inviting Sansa to sit with her and rest for a little while. "I'm sorry. Here I am complaining about a handmaiden when you are still recovering, I was selfish I shouldn't be whining…"
"It is alright, sweet Sansa. I think I would find it irritating if I was sent a girl who did not even know how to do her job efficiently. I shall get better soon, then I can return to your side." But Rhaena did not get better. As she had theorised, Pycelle's medicines were nothing but worthless potions as Tyrion discovered after he arrested the Grand Maester following his discovery that the old man was indeed an informant to his sister. Having forced the truth from the Grand Maester through threats, Tyrion learned that his sweet sister had persuaded Pycelle to leave Rhaena to rot and suffer with weak lungs in the hopes that she would eventually die of natural causes. The medicines were quickly thrown away and proper remedies given to the young Targaryen who took them diligently as instructed but still made a very slow and laborious recovery. Eventually, the Maesters who were brought to treat her would hang their heads sadly and proclaim that the Lady Rhaena would forever carry this weakness and never fully recover from her illness and would most likely die from it when the long winter came. Lord Tyrion was devastated by the news and cried at Rhaena's side in private as she stroked his head and assured him that she was alright and that it did not matter. "Valar morghulis. All men must die."
"Not you. Never you. I promised to protect you, my Rhaena." He wept and Rhaena basked in the sensation of feeling someone's love for her which was so deep that it moved them to weep such tears for her sake. "I have failed you."
"Not at all, my little friend. You have done all that you could and more. Sometimes it is simply the fate of some people to die quietly a little earlier than expected. Winter is not here quite yet, there is still some time left. We should enjoy it whilst we can." Although it hurt her to see her dearest friend to grieve for her in this way, Rhaena knew it was for the best. So long as everyone thought that she was weak and soon to die, they would leave her in peace and more so, would underestimate her. She would take a leaf from Maester Pycelle's book and put up a front of harmlessness and fragility in order to protect herself. One day she would come clean with Tyrion and she would happily grovel on her knees to beg his forgiveness, but for now this was for the best. At least for her. She was still truthfully weak, but she knew she would recover soon enough so long as she rested and did not overwork herself too much. Once she was strong again, Rheana had decided that one way or another, she was going to escape from this place with Sansa and get as far away from King's Landing as possible.
The only drawback of pretending to still be sick and too weak to move was that Rhaena remained confined to her bed, which meant she was unable to go to Sansa's aid when her beloved Joffrey had her beaten in public by Ser Meryn Trant. The first Rhaena knew of it was when Sansa was brought to her by the not entirely useless Shae, her new handmaiden, where Sansa soon collapsed into tears and Rhaena in her panic had stumbled from her bed and managed to lift Sansa up and have her lay down with her so that she could hold her close and stroke her hair until she could understand what had happened. Once the truth became clear, Rhaena left her bed and her room in order to be closer to Sansa, not as a handmaiden but a companion, now keeping to her side as a means to better protect her. She became a shield of sorts, for now all knew not to touch Rhaena Targaryen, Sansa also became untouchable by being in her presence, at least beyond that of the king and Queen Regent. As far as they were concerned, there was little Rhaena could do other than keep out of their sight and appear as if she did not exist to them.
As the stagnant days of life in the Red Keep continued, Rhaena listened to the happenings of the outside world. Most shocking of all was the news of Renly Baratheon's murder, though different tales accounted for the culprit. Some say it had been a woman who was part of his Kingsguard, others claimed it was dark sorcery of some kind which had killed him. Now his army had declared for Stannis Baratheon, increasing the number of his army and becoming a real threat to King's Landing and Joffrey, though Rhaena noted that they Tyrells had not joined the rest of Renly's army and had instead retreated back to their ancestral home of High Garden, including Renly's former wife, Margery Tyrell. His now widow. Not only that but according to Varys spies, Theon Greyjoy had betrayed Robb and taken control of Winterfell for himself after his father had proclaimed himself a king once more, King of the Salt Throne. Varys himself had brought her the news and upon hearing it, Rhaena had pressed her hands to her face to cover it entirely but still she felt the tears slip through the cracks. "Is there any word of Bran and Rickon? The boys?"
"As far as my spies can tell me, they are alive." Varys comforted her tenderly as Rhaena took several deep breaths to try and maintain control of herself. "Oh my dear, your tears are a credit to you. Crying always for others and never for yourself."
"Please, Lord Varys. Please don't speak that way to me right now. Speak as a person, not a spymaster." She begged off him, desperately holding back a sob as she thought about sweet little Bran and darkling Rickon, their smiles and laughter as she had once played games with them, cuddled them and sang them songs. A lifetime ago now. "Theon Greyjoy…that spineless son of a whoring…I hope Robb feeds that coward to Grey Wind." It would serve him right and be no less than he deserved for betraying Robb's trust and taking over a castle when there was only a young, crippled boy to defend it. Though in hindsight, Robb should have left a larger detail of men to protect his home, especially since there was only Bran and Rickon there to stand as acting lords. Regardless, what was done was done, there was no changing the past but there was still hope for the future. "What else do you know?"
"I have heard whispers that Lord Baelish had also gone to Lord Renly's camp and met with Lady Stark to make an offer of exchange. Ser Jaime for her daughters, though of course Arya Stark is still completely lost to us. Not even those in my employ can find her. It is as if she has vanished."
"Good. Then she is safe." Or dead, but Rhaena did not even wish to give power to these words by speaking them. She trusted that Arya being Arya would have found her own way to safety or at the very least was in hiding. "We must assume that Lady Catelyn will agree to the exchange but I doubt that Robb will. A man as valuable as Jaime Lannister is not worth the life of two young girls, harsh as it is to say. However, Lady Catelyn is a mother, and a mother will no doubt do whatever was necessary to protect the lives of her children. I expect she will either persuade Robb or will find a way herself to make the exchange now that Renly is gone and she cannot depend upon his forces to help Robb take King's Landing. That was her only hope of rescuing her children, now it is gone. She must feel devastated." Rubbing her chest as it panged with sympathy for Lady Catelyn, Rhaena returned her attention fully to Varys who studied her quietly. "Do you still have no word of the east?"
"None concerning your sister, I'm afraid. I shall continue to endeavour to find something for you but it has been a long time since any whispers have returned to me of her movements or her condition. I fear you must prepare yourself for some terrible news in this case." As much as she wanted to deny it, Rhaena nodded her head in understanding.
"Then I must act and believe myself to be the last Targaryen until proof of my sister being alive reaches my ears." Thinking quietly to herself, Rhaena then considered Varys with a deeper contemplation, not quite understanding his complexities. To this day she could still not fully understand who it was Varys worked for or who he favoured, or even what it was that he wanted. He would often say one then and then another which contradicted him perplexingly until it was quite impossible to understand him. Perhaps this was exactly the way he wanted it to be. "Why do you tell me all these things, Lord Varys? I have nothing to give you in return, no whispers or rumours, no gold or riches. I have nothing. I am nothing. Why give me these secrets of yours?" His expression, for the most part, was as unreadable as ever, however Rhaena was able to detect a certain…sympathy…of sorts. Or at least, that was the closest word she could find to describe the expression.
"My dear, you have already paid me in full." He informed her simply before withdrawing his hands from within his sleeve to reveal a simple handkerchief with floral patterns rather clumsily embroidered into the fabric, a far cry from Rhaena's current ability.
"You still have that?" She almost laughed in her surprise. "I would have thought you had discarded that months ago. Regardless, it is only a handkerchief, how can that afford to pay for all these whispers you bring to me?" Looking up as Lord Varys tucked his hands back into his sleeve and hid away the handkerchief once more, a little more expression came to his features which was more easily read. If Rhaena was not mistaken, then she could detect fondness in his eyes and slight smile.
"My dear, it is the receiver who determines the price of an exchange. To me, this little token is worth more than all the gold in the Iron Banks and in the Lannister coffers. It is a true treasure." She stared at him incredulously.
"But it is only a handkerchief. I could give you a hundred more just like it, better than it. How does that pay for all that you offer me?" Leaning forwards a little, Varys continued to smile as he spoke.
"Because it was a gift from you, my dear. You should not underestimate just how deeply you are able to win the affections and love from those around you. Not just myself. There are others who would gladly give all that they had just to ease your discomfort, pay any price to secure your safety. Your charms have won you allies. You should learn how to use them, as well as further your list of allies by utilising that sweet temper of yours to win their love and devotion. A man who loves a woman would gladly fall upon his own sword for her just for the sake of her smile." Understanding Varys's advice, Rhaena felt a little uncomfortable at the idea of using others for her own sake. It seemed selfish and cruel.
"That is not the kind of person I want to be, Lord Varys. If someone helps me, then I wish to be able to give back what I owe. If I was starving and someone gave me bread, I would repay them with a feast." Looking crestfallen, Rhaena sank back against her chair as she hugged her knees against her chest, feeling weak and small in comparison to all that was occurring around her. "I cannot protect anyone. What kind of dragon am I?"
"You could always escape from here." Varys suggested to her and immediately she snapped her eyes towards him with a frown, astonished that he would so brazenly suggest something so risky. "As I said before, you have more allies than you realise who would help you."
"And where would I go? I do not now where my sister is in the east or if she even lives. North? Robb Stark would give me shelter but I would be of no use to him and I would remain caught up in the war. Were Robb to fail and his armies be overcome, then I would be taken as a prisoner once more, only this time I would be handed back as spoiled goods after every man in the Lannister army had had their way with me. South? Myrcella is soon to go to Dorne to become the wife of Trystan Martell, they cannot risk word of my presence there returning to Cersei or her father. They would march on Dorne and they would not risk their peace for my sake regardless of our family history. Even if I went as far North as the Wall, fighting will soon find its way there with this Wildling King. So tell me, Lord Varys. Where exactly should I go where I would be safe and welcome and not in as much danger there as I am here?" Varys sat in silence, unable to refute Rhaena's accurate determinations. "Perhaps I will simply melt into the wilds like Arya and become a ghost. I think I could survive for a time, though eventually I will most likely starve. In any case. I cannot leave Sansa. I will only go if she agrees to go with me."
"My dear, you must think of yourself in this. Lady Sansa, sweet girl as she is, will only get you killed if you devote yourself to her. She has not your skill for survival." Now it was Rhaena's turn to remain silent in agreement, though she smiled all the same. Reaching out her hand she touched Varys's arm and thanked him sincerely for his kindness.
"If ever there comes a time where I am in a position to grant you a wish, then you must tell me what it is. If I am able, I will grant it for you."
"You are too kind, my dear, but my wish is only to see you safe, healthy and living somewhere peacefully." Taking the hand which rested against his arm, Varys placed a deft kiss upon the back of her palm before he then rose from his chair. "I will leave you now. I will pray for a swift recovery." Leaving her in peace to process all the whispers he had shared, Rhaena rubbed at her head. So many kings, so many plots, she could hardly keep up with them all. Plus her sister, her estranged sister whom she had never met but feared for as much as she feared for her own life, was lost somewhere with no one able to tell her where she was or how she was faring. The spy who used to report to Varys had long since gone silent, which meant that Daenerys was little more than a ghost somewhere in the far east. Perhaps she had died in childbirth. Perhaps the spy himself had been killed. Who knew? Rhaena could do nothing but hope and pray that her sister was still alive and that one day, the gods might be gracious and allow them to meet for there was no one else alive who shared her blood. Not that blood mattered a great deal, family can be chosen for oneself. Rheana had already long since decided that she would back the Starks in all their endeavours. They had long since earned her love and loyalty, and the only Lannister who had won her affection and friendship was Tyrion Lannister. Rhaena, who had no power of her own, could only devote herself to those she determined deserved her heart which was exactly what she intended to do otherwise what else was her purpose on this earth? It was unlikely the Targaryen bloodline would ever again rise from ruin, and so she would simply live as she pleased and once she was dead, the bloodline would end with her.
What did blood matter, anyway? Rhaena had seen families tied by blood claw and tear at one another's throats in hatred. Family did not mean love, and blood did not necessarily mean safety. She could only look to herself, trust in her own strength and her own intelligence to carry her through as it always had done. Yes. Rhaena was a Targaryen. But in a world where kings fought kings and wildlings rose in the north along with darker and more terrifying threats stirring in the deep, cold winter…what did a name matter?