Once Maester Pylos had done all that he could for Missandei, he announced it was now entirely up to her whether or not she lived or died. He dared not leech her for she had already lost too much blood, but the blade had buried deep and he had been forced to remove the damaged organs it had pierced. Fortunately, they were organs that she could live without, but it did mean that she would never be able to bear a child of her own as it had been her reproductive organs which had been struck. Rhaena did not think it mattered too great a matter. Since Missandei had fallen in love with Grey Worm, they would never bear children of their own anyway. Although they would never have children of their own blood, perhaps they might take in an orphan or two. Rhaena imagined they would make fine parents one day. Grey Worm had practically broken down the maester's door once he had returned to Dragonstone and since then had refused to leave Missandei's side. She had taken a fever and she was very weak. All those who prayed to gods were now doing so. Even Rhaena offered up a prayer or two, though she did not have great faith that they would listen.
Instead, she took the jewel that Ser Davos had given her from Melisandre's necklace which she had kept and intended to reset it one day, taking it and placing it upon Missandei's breast where the jewel glowed warmly and spread its magic to the suffering woman as Grey Worm held her hand. He nodded to Rhaena who smiled in understanding and touched his shoulder before leaving them in peace, hoping that the stone would keep Missandei from dying. She intended to study that stone to understand its properties. Perhaps she would even travel to Asshai to learn the truth of what it was from the Red Priests and Priestesses themselves. Such things would have to wait, however. Other matters were at hand, and Daenerys had now locked herself away in her room where she refused all visitors and all food. There she stayed even after Jon had landed, bringing news that his men were crossing the Trident and would reach King's Landing in two days. Relieved to see him, Rhaena had strode forwards and did not stop until she had thrown her arms about his neck and buried her face into him, breathing deeply as his arms naturally wound themselves around her. It did not take much for Jon to understand that something was amiss, Rhaena's expression alone was enough to tell him that there was trouble in the air as Varys told him that Daenerys had not left her chambers, seen anyone or eaten since returning from the attempted treaty with Cersei where Missandei had been severely wounded. "She shouldn't be alone."
"You're worried for her. I admire your empathy." Varys said to him as they all began to make their way back to the keep from the beach where Jon had landed. His arm was draped across Rhaena's shoulders in order to shield her from the wind, thinking only to comfort her as she held his hand as she looked as though she too had not eaten for days, with dark circles under her eyes from many a sleepless night.
"Aren't you worried for her?"
"I'm worried for all of us," Varys countered simply, voicing the concerns that few others dared to acknowledge aloud. "They say every time a Targaryen is born, the gods toss a coin, and the world holds its breath." At this, Rhaena gave a derisive laugh, head bowed as she considered the saying.
"One side for madness and the other for greatness," if it were true, then Rhaena merely had another reason to spit on the gods. She was tired of them playing games with her, wanting nothing more than to simply end everything and disappear from the world where she might find some peace and happiness of her own. "Sometimes, they are one and the same within each Targaryen, and although we start in greatness, the coin always eventually turns to madness in the end." Seeing her distress, Jon gave her fingers a light squeeze.
"We're not much for riddles where I'm from." He didn't care for such things, and more so, he didn't believe them. To him, there were no two people greater than Daenerys and Rhaena. Jon doubted that anyone else in the entire world could have managed to survive what they had and gain what they now possessed. No two people could have had humbler beginnings and rise to the height at which they now stood.
"We both know what she's about to do." Coming to a halt, Jon and Rhaena both looked steadily at Varys. Rhaena wondered at his intentions, once again uncertain of the eunuch's true loyalty. For a time she had been convinced that he intended to serve Daenerys faithfully, but now she received the impression that he was once again shifting his allegiance. It seemed as if he knew something. She had known him long enough and well enough to recognise that look in his eye. It was the look he had when he knew a valuable piece of information no one else had. Often, such information led to either great or terrible things.
"That's her decision to make. She is our queen."
"Men decide where power resides, whether or not they know it." Now also sensing that Varys knew something and, more to the point, was plotting something, Jon lowered his tone warily to question what the eunuch wanted. "All I've ever wanted. The right ruler on the Iron Throne." In her chest, Rhaena's heart pulsed as her eyes widened from shock at Varys's blatant words, and feared the consequence of what such words could bring where they heard by the wrong set of ears. "I still don't know how her coin has landed, but I'm quite certain about both of yours." Even as he spoke, Varys looked to Rhaena with affection, understanding the look of resistance in her face as Jon also considered his words as both realised that Varys somehow knew Jon's true identity. How he found it did not matter, what mattered was that he knew, and if he knew, then who else did too?
"I don't want it. I never have." Sighing softly, Varys continued to press his case gently to the two young people before him. In truth he did not think it mattered which of them sat upon the Iron Throne, Varys felt that either one would do well. Far better than Daenerys, at least, who was clearly losing her mind.
"I have known more kings and queens than any man living. I've heard what they say to crowds and seen what they do in the shadows. I have furthered their designs, however horrible, but what I tell you now is true," he promised them softly as he implored them both to reconsider. "Both of you would rule wisely and well, while she…"
"She is my queen." Cutting him off before he could speak further treason, Jon wanted no part in the schemes of the spymaster. He did not want the throne, only Daenerys. He had sworn his loyalty to her and he intended to keep his word. However, he did glance towards Rhaena. She was silent and grave, biting down upon her lower lip with worry. Not wanting to distress her further, Jon leaned across and placed a brotherly kiss to her temple, wishing that he could take away all of her burdens from her so that she would have no reason to wear such an expression, but rather smile as she had used to. Sliding his arm from her gently, Jon left with a final touch of reassurance in order to climb up the beach towards the keep in the hope that he might be able to persuade Daenerys to eat and speak with him. Leaving Rhaena with Varys, the two remained standing facing one another.
"You know I am right, my dear. If either you or Jon sat on the throne, then the Seven Kingdoms would be better for it." What pained Rhaena the most was the fact that she knew Varys was correct. Her sister had grown far too erratic to be trusted with the rule of the Seven Kingdoms and the protection of the people, yet still Rhaena did not want to betray her. "I have always wanted it to be you who took your father's seat, dear child. I have known you since you were a squalling babe and watched you weather things that would have broken lesser men." Reaching for her, Rhaena felt Varys lightly squeeze her arm. "You know it is the right thing to do."
"In such situations as these, there is not right course of action. Only one evil or another." Shaking her head, Rhaena exhaled a shaky breath as she wrapped her arms around her, not feeling a chill but shivering all the same. "Perhaps I am not better than my sister. What would happen if I did take the throne from her and one day, I began to go mad as my father did? What would you do then, Varys? Would you conspire against me? Cast me aside for the next person to take my place?"
"I would not do it unkindly, my dear. After all, I am very fond of you. If you were to slowly lose your mind as your sister is now, then I would not conspire against you. I would treat you gently and sponge your brow, I would feed you your favourite foods and read to you from any book you desired. I would ensure that you had a peaceful life and care for you myself, it that was what it took." Unable to help herself, Rhaena smiled at Varys fondly. Being so unpredictable, she could never guess what he might say next or what might be running through his head, but there on that beach, Rhaena became certain of one thing. His affection for her was genuine, and it warmed her heart to the core.
"I will not betray my sister, Varys. I will protect her, even if it must be from her own mind. Let her sit the throne and think herself queen. So long as we maintain the charade, then the care of the Seven Kingdoms may be left to others. Who knows? With any luck, the gods will be merciful and once she is crowned queen, her mind will settle and she will return to the way she was." Varys looked doubtful, but he bowed in acquiescence all the same. Rhaena hoped that would be the end of any whispers of treachery, that no more would be said of deposing Daenerys in favour of someone else, however her hopes were fruitless and swiftly downtrodden. That same night, in an hour of utter darkness, Rhaena was summoned down to the beach alongside Jon and Tyrion, where Daenerys stood with several soldiers attending her. Rhaena did not know what was happening, but knew better than to ask. She looked to Tyrion for answers, but her friend was refusing to look at her and had a suspicious expression of shame. Dread began to creep through Rhaena as she stood and waited.
The truth was revealed when Varys was brought down from the keep, escorted by guards and bound in iron with Grey Worm leading the way. Dread turned to horror, Rhaena looking quickly at her sister then back to Varys who seemed to accept the fate which had been bestowed upon him. What made matters worse was when Rhaena heard from Tyrion's own lips that it had been he who had betrayed Varys's confidence and revealed his intentions to Daenerys. Rhaena gave a shuddering breath, grasping at Jon beside her as she clasped hold of his wrist. She did not want to believe her sister would go this far. No, perhaps she was only intending to frighten Varys. Daenerys would not go so far as to pass sentence on a man simply for whispering. "I hope I deserve this," Varys answered Tryion's confession, struggling to keep his voice and emotions in check as they drew closer to what awaited him. "Truly, I do. I hope I'm wrong." Attempting to steel himself against all fear, Varys looked down at Tyrion, a man whom he had worked beside and helped many times in the past. It appeared all his good faith had been for nothing. "Goodbye, old friend." Once again Tyrion felt the crashing sense of shame, reaching out in order to touch Varys's arm in a final farewell before stepping aside.
"Lord Varys," now speaking, all listened to the words of the Dragon Queen as she stood seemingly without emotion as she passed sentence upon a man who had done nothing but speak the truth. Rhaena bit down upon her tongue, desperate to say something, to intercede, but she wanted nothing more than to be proven wrong by her sister. "I, Daenerys of House Targaryen, First of My Name, Breaker of Chains and Mother of Dragons sentence you to die." Behind her, Rhaena heard Drogon shift from where he had until now been enshrouded by darkness, hiding him until he growled lowly and moved closer behind his mother. Rhaena prayed. She prayed so deparatelyly, that if there truly were any gods they were bound to hear her. Let her be wrong. Let her sister prove her wrong. If she followed through with this sentence, then Rhaena would know for certain that her sister had well and truly lost her mind. "Dracarys." Pressing her eyes closed in anguish, Rhaena listened as Drogon reared up to tower over Varys.
When the plume of dragonfire burst forth, Varys did not even have time to scream. He would have done, had he felt any pain, but in truth he did not. Strangely it was beginning to seem quite a pleasant way to die, filled with warmth and a comforting sensation which seemed familiar to him in some way though could not quite understand how. At first Varys expected that he had simply died so quickly that his mind was yet to realise what had happened, but as time passed, Varys gradually opened his eyes. He was wreathed in flames. They danced and flared across his entire body and billowed like a bright golden-lilac shroud, a cloak of living fire which spiralled around him in a dome which parted the darker, more menacing flames over his head to disperse harmlessly away from him. From the outside, no one could see what was happening, and so the wonderment of the moment belonged entirely to Varys as he breathed in awe and stared. Now he understood the sense of familiarity. Rhaena. Varys began to weep as he lifted his hands to his chest and clutched at his heart, sliding one hand into the folds of his robes in order to withdraw the scrap of cloth which he had carried every day for many years. The same handkerchief Rhaena Targaryen had gifted him. Varys knew for certain that he had been right about her, that she was far more worthy to rule as a queen than her sister, and gave thanks that he had chosen well. Had he not been a friend to Rhaena for all these years, then perhaps he truly would be dead now.
Snapping his maw closed, the fires dispersed but continued to burn brightly, warm and intense, however they were not Drogon's fire, but Rhaena's. As she softly lowered her hand to diminish the flame, the Unsullied started in shock to see Varys standing there perfectly unharmed without a single thread of his raiment singed. Tyrion balked and Jon jerked sharply, both looking quickly at Rhaena who stood calmly, soft features seemingly glowing by firelight. Daenerys looked to her sister and the rage of a dragon burned within her. For a long while no one spoke as Varys fell to his knees in weeping relief, the only sound made other than Drogon's body shifting and the occasional growl as he looked between his mother and kin. Daenerys was too angry for words, staring at Rhaena until finally, her sister turned in order to look at her with a deep serenity and composure which only served to set Daenerys's rage further ablaze. "This is not how it is done."
"I am queen. I decide how things are done!" Daenerys finally snapped, her voice creating an ugly shriek which ricocheted off the cliff face. Rhaena continued to stare at her blankly.
"You brought Varys down here in the dead of night to conduct your business in the shadows. You offered him no trial, no chance to defend himself, or even to beg forgiveness or mercy." Stepping closer, Rhaena put herself directly in front of her sister so that they were practically sharing the same space, looking at the contorted features of her sister with sadness and a sense of grief. "Even a queen is subject to the laws of the realm, yet you think yourself above all. What crime did Varys commit? What did he do that was so heinous, so dastardly, that he is so dangerous and threatening that he does not even deserve a fair trial?" Opening her mouth to speak, Daenerys informed Rhaena rather heatedly that he had conspired to betray his queen. "Oh, is that all?" Shocked by Rhaena's nonchalant attitude, Daenerys gaped at her. "Even murderers are given fair trial. When Tyrion stood accused of regicide, even he was granted a trial." Curling her lip with a sour expression, Rhaena continued to look down upon Daenerys. "You had best reconsider your state of mind, sweet sister. You are beginning to act a great deal like our beloved father, and we all know how life ended for him." Now spluttering, Daenerys stared as Rhaena turned away from her and grasped hold of Varys by his arm, pulling him to his feet.
The sand underneath their feet had been turned to glass from where it had melted, creating a pretty platform as Rhaena clasped at Varys to ensure he was alright before indicating that he should come with her. "Stop! I command you to stop!" Daenerys screeched as the pair began to walk away, so Rhaena looked back with an innocent tilt of her head.
"Yes, sweet sister?"
"Where do you think you are going? You cannot defy me!"
"Why, sweet sister, I am taking the prisoner to be locked away until a fair trial can be held for him." Giving Daenerys a cynical smile, Rhaena nudged at Varys to continue moving. "Unless you wish to execute me alongside him, of course. See if Drogon is so willing to obey you then." Spinning on her heel, Rhaena continued on her way. The Unsullied did not stop her and Daenerys did not call her back a second time. She walked with her arm through Varys's, keeping him steady as he seemed to still be quite shaken from his ordeal as Rhaena breathed heavily, struggling to hold her tears at bay. "I am sorry you had to endure that, Varys."
"I am merely grateful to still be alive. Thank you, my dear."
"It is the least I can do after all you have done for me in the past. Do not worry. I shall do my best to see to it that you are trialled fairly. You deserve that much at least, and I shall ensure that the punishment is not excessive. Unless you have committed other crimes I am yet to be made aware of, all you are guilty of is whispering conspiracy. Such a crime does not warrant death." Bitterness swamped Rhaena as she swallowed back the bile in her throat, taking Varys to secure him in a cell with an order to the guard to ensure he is treated well and that he was not to be moved without her leave. Having spent a great deal of time amongst the Unsullied, they held a great deal of respect for the princess, and so the soldiers who guarded the cells gave their word that they would ensure that Varys was not mistreated. She smiled weakly and nodded in thanks, whispering goodnight to Varys before retreating to her room. The last bridge had now been burned and the storm was unleashed. There was no going back from this, not for Rhaena and her sister. Once she was alone in her room, she allowed herself to weep in grief for what she had chosen to sacrifice. Having spent most of her life dreaming of one day meeting her sister, Rhaena mourned the bond that had now been broken between them. Daenerys would never trust her again. It would come as no surprise if she sent Grey Worm to arrest her that very night. She did not. Rhaena was left undisturbed until the morning where a knock came upon her door, one she recognised to be Tyrion's. Rising from her bed, Rhaena drifted forwards and opened her door to him where immediately his face fell in shock.
"You cried all night." He realised, seeing the redness of her eyes and the withdrawn, gaunt expression she carried. Saying nothing, Rhaena stepped aside and allowed Tyrion into her chambers, closing the door behind her. "What you did was risky. Daenerys could have named you a traitor too."
"In her heart, she already has." Came the bitter reply as Rhaena moved towards the cold, empty hearth and took one of the seats there. "What have you come to say, Tyrion?" Wincing at her tone, Tyrion tentatively approached her. When he reached for hand, she drew it away. This hurt perhaps more than anything Tyrion had ever felt before, heat and dampness gathering at his eyes before they overflowed and a pitiful pleading escaped him, begging Rhaena to look at him. She would not. Rhaena kept her face turned away from him, staring at the cold ashes. Dragging his hand over his face, Tyrion allowed himself to feel wretched.
"I had to tell her."
"You did not."
"I had to. I am her Hand. She needs to know that she can trust me, so that when I tell her something, she will believe me." It was a poor excuse, but it was the only one Tyrion had. "I did not think she would go so far. I thought at most she would imprison him. Please, Rhaena, please believe me." But still she would not look upon him, and the wretched sensation deepened. "Rhaena. You know me. You know I would not do something such as this unless I thought it absolutely necessary to protect the future. I thought I could temper her. I could, for a while, but now she is…she is beyond anyone's control. I need your help, my dear Rhae. I cannot do this without you." This time when Tyrion reached for Rhaena, she did not pull away. Although she did not reciprocate the affection, it was at least something. A heavy and wearied sigh flowed from her lips as Tyrion studied her, searching for any sign of her thoughts. "I have managed to persuade your sister to call off her attack if the bells rang in surrender. I have a plan. If it works, then we can take the city without the need for bloodshed. We would not even need to fight Cersei's armies." Despite her own personal feelings, Rhaena knew that she could not ignore the chance to take back the Seven Kingdoms without the need of shedding another drop of blood. Finally, she turned her head and looked at Tyrion, seeing the tears as they streaked down his cheeks.
Feeling guilty for being cold, Rhaena reached to him and used her sleeve to dry the tears away, considering for a moment before nodding her head. "Alright. I am listening." She took hold of his hands and held them tightly as she bowed her head to his. "What do you need me to do?"