The King's Feast 28: Rhaenys II
From afar, Storm's End looked like a gigantic stone first thrusting up into the air, as if the castle was cursing the gods. The fist was the drum tower, and it were so smooth, that if it were to be placed on its side, it could roll down a hill. Both it and the castle underneath that the drum tower jutted out from were both made of pale grey stone, that looked black in the night sky, but glowed white whenever lightning struck.
Since this was Storm's End, lightning always struck.
Rhaenys could feel the heavy rainfall assaulting her head, and her jet black hair was soaked by now, and the rain seeped through her black and silver dragonscale armour too, so her body felt wet and cold. Visibility was poor, she could hardly see Storm's End despite only being a few miles away now. She only saw glimpses of the castle whenever a flash of lightning hit the bay. Streaks of lightning attacked the side of the castle every couple of seconds but was unable to pierce the thick walls. Outside was a heavy storm, but Rhaenys did not doubt that the inside of Storm's End was drier than a desert, due to the castle being protected by magical spells to guard against the wrath of the Storm Gods.
The crackle of lightning was followed by the rumble of thunder, and to each strike, Meleys growled angrily. The wings of the red she-dragon flapped hastily against the storm, as she got closer and closer to the Shipbreaker Bay. Below, the sea stayed true to its namesake, a small ship was set alight by lightning, a small red flame in a sea of black and blue. When they finally arrived at the castle, Meleys let out a loud roar of relief. Even though she was one of the largest and oldest dragons alive, the storms here still made her uneasy.
Meleys landed in within the walls of the castle beneath. It looked so small from a distance, but the castle walls were truly hundreds of feet high, so they were dwarfed beneath the walls. Rhaenys could not see outside of the castle from within, all she could see was the massive drum tower standing over her, with lightning attacking the very top. She climbed off Meleys and stroked the side of her. Despite it being so cold here, Meleys' skin was still warm, and her scarlet and copper horns glowed in the stormy night. She let out a small growl, and a flush of red and pink flames were let out of her nose, before she sat down to rest.
It was a long flight to here, especially through the autumn storms.
Rhaenys walked to the entrance of the drum tower, the wet pebbles crunching under her boots. Two guards dressed in bright silver armour, with golden coloured surcoats depicting the black stag of Baratheon on top of it. The cloth of the surcoat was dripping wet, and the colours had faded through years of standing outside in the rain. The two men had large iron helmets on their heads, but Rhaenys doubted whether they would truly keep them dry. The doors of the drum tower stood twenty feet tall, and were made of ironwood, with intricate designs showing the legends of Durran Godsgrief on them. The door was lined with black steel, and swung open with a loud creak.
Inside was the great hall, a massive room the size of the throne room in King's Landing. But instead of being rectangular in shape, the hall of Storm's End was one large circle, with smooth pale stone walls going all around. Hanging from the walls were four massive tapestries, two on each side. One showed Durran Godsgrief defying the Storm Gods, and the one next to it was Orys Baratheon defeating Argilac the Arrogant. The next showed Orys defeating a Dornish Vulture King, and the last was a colourful mural of the Golden Wedding between Rogar Baratheon and Alyssa Velaryon.
The only wedding in history that was more extravagant than my daughter's.
Directly in front of Rhaenys were two banners that were over ten-and-five feet in height. They both were a cut from a bright cloth-of-gold, and both had the black crowned stag of House Baratheon. In the middle was the seat of Lord of Storm's End, formerly that of the Storm King. It was made of one giant rock, cut into the shape of a large chair, with raised sides to serve as a sort of armrest, but the seat was empty. The only people present in the hall was a younger woman, along with a crowd of servants, them carrying a two year old, and a newborn babe. The woman was of average build, and had brown hair and black eyes. She was a buxom girl, and the chest area of her yellow and black gown looked as if it would burst.
"Princess Rhaenys!" the woman said, cheerily. "My Lord Husband is currently occupied, but please, do make yourself welcome here! I believe you have not met my children yet. Come, see my two storms!"
Then the woman must be Lord Borros' wife, Lady Elenda Caron.
The woman and her group of servants came closer and showed Rhaenys the children. They were both girls, with black hair similar to Rhaenys but they also had the signature Baratheon blue eyes. They both wore black dresses embroidered with golden stags on there.
"This is my eldest, Cassandra. And this is Maris. Here, carry her, Princess!" Lady Elenda said, handing the newborn to Rhaenys.
Rhaenys took Maris and looked at her. The girl seemed to be only a few moons young and was still asleep. She rocked the babe for a bit, stroking her thin strands of black hair.
I remember when Laena and Laenor were that young. Seven hells, even when Daeron was that young.
"She certainly looks like her grandsire." Rhaenys remarked, smiling at the small girl.
"Yes... I never saw Lord Boremund much. But it cannot be denied that both girls have true Baratheon blood running through their veins. And if our maester has the right of it, these girls shall have another sibling on the way soon." Lady Elenda smiled, gesturing to her stomach. Her stomach was still small, so she would probably have some moons to wait until her third child.
"Oh, my dearest congratulations, Lady Elenda." Rhaenys said, giving Lady Elenda a quick embrace, as to not get her wet with rainwater.
"Would you like to see our grand library, or have a small feast, Princess? You must be so tired from such a long journey in these torrid storms." Lady Elenda asked, taking Maris back and handing her back to a handmaiden.
"No... no, Lady Elenda. I am honoured for your asking, but I came here to visit my mother. That is what I shall do first." Rhaenyra replied, curtly.
"Yes, absolutely, Princess. Please, make yourself comfortable here. Some of the servants shall take you to Lady Jocelyn's chambers." She said, still with a large smile on her face.
Lady Elenda took her leave, but two servants stayed with Rhaenys to take her to her mother's chambers. One was a taller, skinnier man that was balding, and other was younger but shorter and pudgier, with long red hair and shaved cheeks.
"Right this way, Princess." The older one said, before he started walking to the side of the hall and up a long spiral staircase.
They went up and up and up, walking up flights of stone stairs that were so smooth that Rhaenys thought she would slip on it if it were wet. As they went around the stairs, the windows came and went, since the side facing the sea being windowless to prevent water from seeping in. When Rhaenys first heard that, she could scarcely believe that water could enter a castle so high up, but upon seeing the massive waves as high as the castle itself that smacked against the sea wall, Rhaenys thought Bran the Builder should have built the drum tower even taller.
They passed by some rooms on the way up, Rhaenys peeked into the grand library on one of the floors, and one of the floors gave off the smell of fresh bread, so she assumed they passed the kitchens. That was directly underneath the dining hall, where she heard the booming laughter of Lord Borros.
The Lord of Storm's End was too busy eating than to meet me.
Despite the occasional sounds of chatter and laughter coming from people around the castle, and the various smells, the castle still felt strange. Even one of the times Rhaenys visited with her father, and the great hall was full of guests, she could not help but notice that Storm's End was still too big, and that the high ceilings of every room gave off a haunting aura. Voices bounced off the large walls, and ever in the background, the sounds of thunder struck the outer walls of the castle, despite the eighty feet thick walls on the seafront. From the windows, you could always see whenever lightning struck nearby, occasionally destroying an unlucky boat, or an even unluckier person. Whenever that happened, the rooms glowed a blinding white colour, and Rhaenys sometimes thought she saw figures moving in the white.
I thought that was my mind playing games with me, but when I asked my late father about it, he said the same. No wonder he scarcely accompanied my mother whenever she visited here.
Outside, Meleys sensed Rhaenys' unease and gave a massive roar. Her screams along with the clapping of thunder almost ruptured her eardrums, and the shorter servant yelped at the unholy cacophony of sounds.
"Gods... the dragon outside... is it..." the young lad squeaked.
"Do not worry boy, Meleys shall do no harm. She does not like the weather, that is all, she would not hurt anyone unless I willed it." Rhaenys laughed, somewhat eased by the fact that a man that had lived here all his life was more uncomfortable about everything than her.
"Y-Yes... Princess... it is... I have never seen a dragon before..." he responded, wiping sweat off his brows, despite it being cool inside the castle.
"Yes, I have not visited here often, I should do more." Rhaenys mused.
"I saw dragons in my day, Princess. Your father, was it not? He visited sometimes here, not often, but some." The older servant said.
"P-Princess' f-father? He is the one married to Lady Jocelyn, no?" the younger servant asked.
Was.
"Aye, Prince Aemon. Had that red dragon, with a weird long neck. You are lucky the Princess does not ride that one. That one's screams would break your ears boy." The older one laughed.
The younger servant gave a nervous chuckle in response and didn't speak for the remainder of their climb up the steps. By the end of it Rhaenys was almost soaked again, this time from sweat rather than rainwater.
"P-Princess, the chambers are h-here..." the younger one said.
Lady Jocelyn's chambers were on the floor third from the top, opposite the chambers of Lady Elenda and only below the maester's keep and the floor reserved for the Lord of Storm's End.
These were the same chambers that she had since the days of Lord Rogar. It seems that Lord Borros has kept my mother in good standing.
The chambers were large and spacious, just as Rhaenys remembered, there was the small oak table on the left, and a window overlooking the rainy hills of the Stormlands on the right. Next to the large window was a tapestry showing a young Rhaenys with her mother and father.
Oh, father, it has been thirty years.
Rhaenys' mother lay in the bed in the centre of the room. The bed was made of dark mahogany and lined with velvet and silken cloths. Jocelyn Baratheon was a tall woman, and her skinny legs poked out of the end of the bed. Her jet black hair had turned completely white now, and she wore a black gown that looked much too large for her.
She has gone so much gaunter since I last saw her.
Though she had lost all of her weight, and her hair had turned white, one thing stayed the same. Her eyes remained the same as Rhaenys remembered. They were a blue so dark, they looked violet, and they lit up when she saw her daughter.
"Rhaenys? Oh, sweetling, is that you? Come... sit by me." She said, lifting herself up from the bed, before clutching her stomach and groaning.
It has been so long since I last heard her voice.
"Mother... please... do not strain yourself, I shall help you up..." Rhaenys said, rushing to aid her mother.
"Get your hands off me, girl, I can do this myself." She scoffed, smacking Rhaenys' hands away. "So, tell me, how have you been, my Queen?"
"You forget yourself mother, I am not the Queen." Rhaenys smiled, with tears building in her eyes.
I am the Queen who never was.
"I have not lost my wits, sweetling, believe me. To me, you will always be my Queen, even after they elected your fool of a cousin instead. That council pains me every day... even more than these crabs in my belly..." she sighed, holding her stomach. "Anyways… How are the children? If you can call them children anymore... gods... Laena has two children now… and Laenor must have grown so tall..."
Rhaenys looked at her mother and frowned. "I have not seen my children in a while, too, in truth. I scarcely see Laena nowadays, with her living in that nest of vipers. And Laenor... it has been years, mother, he went off with Corlys to fight in a bloody war. The last raven I received was two moons ago, only the gods know if I ever see them again."
"I thought the same, considering how long it has been since I last saw you." She sighed. "What brings you here, then, sweetling? I know how much you hate this castle."
It has been too long, truly, I am sorry mother.
"I... mother... I do not know what to do..." Rhaenys whispered. "My daughter and husband wish for me to push for my grandson as heir, even though..."
"Then support them as heir, sweetling. Did you come all this way to ask my permission?" she scoffed.
"No... it is...I have doubts about it all..."
"What doubts, girl? I know you too well, you wish for Daeron to be named just as much as your husband does. I know that council haunts you too even more than it haunts me, despite however much pride you have to not admit it."
She is not wrong, ever since Corlys had pushed for Daeron to be heir, I have secretly wanted it, despite all the dangers it might bring. How much of a fool was I to not support my own grandsire, when mine own blood would support me in such matters?
"But His Grace named Rhaenyra heir, mother. Going against that... I just want my family to be safe, mother." Rhaenys pleaded, at a loss for words, mainly because she knew her mother was correct.
"Don't give me none of that, girl. All of this about your family being safe. Daeron is never safe so long as he exists. Your old age has truly softened you, Rhaenys. You have Targaryen, Baratheon, and Velaryon blood running through your veins, and you do not want to fight for your grandson's birthright being stolen? What sort of a girl did I raise?" She said, laughing. "Did you really come here in the hopes that I would agree with your ill-conceived notion that you should relent to someone trying to steal your family's birthright? I know for a fact that you didn't. You know me too well, and I know you too well. You came here because you wanted me to give you permission to fully back Daeron. As if you needed permission, girl. Follow your heart, support your family. Viserys ascended the throne because above you because you were a woman, and now he tries to place his daughter above his son? In that case, you should be the Queen! You were robbed twice, do not let this happen again, understand me, dear?"
I was passed over after my father died, and again when Uncle Baelon did, I shall not let the humiliation pass onto my grandson. Remember who you are, Rhaenys. You are a Targaryen, a Baratheon, and a Velaryon.
"Yes-"
Rhaenys was interrupted by the roar of Meleys outside combined with the sound of thunder hitting the walls outside the chamber. After that, someone knocked on the door.
"Come!" shouted her mother.
In came the shorter servant, huffing and puffing from having to ascend the flight of steps all over again.
"P-Princess... Lord Borros summons you to the dining hall... for a feast..." he stuttered, before quickly leaving the room.
"So, run along, girl, and remember what I told you. Lord Borros has treated me well here, but he may be offended if you are late for supper." Her mother laughed.
"Yes... it was good to see you mother." Rhaenys said, kissing her mother's bony hands.
She smiled in response to that, and stroked Rhaenys' black hair. "As for me, sweetling."
As Rhaenys was about to exit the chambers, her mother called her back.
"One more thing, daughter. When you go back to Driftmark, don't come back here until your grandson is made heir!" She shouted, and Rhaenys gave a small chuckle to that.
I shall not let you down, mother.
The dining hall was cosy compared to the rest of Storm's End, but it was still a wide hall with tall ceilings, and the smooth stone that curved unnaturally. The storms had worsened, and splutters of rain came in through the far window. The crackles of lightning and claps of thunder were even louder and drowned out the musicians playing for them.
Lord Borros sat in the lord's chair, wearing a black doublet embroidered with a silver stag on there. He looked just like his father, a massive man with huge shoulders, but Borros had an even larger belly. His long hair was as black as night, and his eyes glowed a bright blue in the candlelight. The first course of the feast was a giant boar, served with buttered peppers, onions, and neeps, along with a selection of cheeses and breads from the kitchens above. Borros tucked in first, greedily carving a massive slice of the boar and putting it on his plate. He gobbled down two servings and drunk five cups of wine before Rhaenys had even finished her first, with grease and blood dribbling down his chin and onto his shaggy black beard.
"So, I am sure this topic would be brought up some time..." Borros began, through a mouthful of neeps and onions. "I am not a man for knowing the laws of inheritance, but some may argue that His Grace's heir should be Prince Daeron, not Rhaenyra."
He is a proud man, so approach with caution.
"Some may think that, yes, Lord Borros." Rhaenys carefully replied.
"I do not say that Daeron should be heir because the Princess spurned me when I tried to marry her. In fact, I thank Rhaenyra, because I would not have married Lady Elenda if not for that. Have you seen my lady wife's tits? Thank the gods..." he snorted, before bursting into laughter, with wine and onion spraying out everywhere.
He finally calmed down, wiping the food off his face and doublet. "No, but on a serious note, Princess... Daeron has Baratheon blood, so I am sure you would expect House Baratheon to support your grandson."
If he is going to declare his full support for Daeron, why has he not done so already?
"I..." Rhaenys slowly responded.
"And the support of Storm's End is what you shall have. I pledge House Baratheon's support to Prince Daeron here and now..."
Thank the Gods.
"So long as Lady Jocelyn is alive." He finished.
"And after that? Lord Borros, with all due respect, my lady mother is old, what if the conflict begins after, dare I say it, her passing?"
When the day comes, I will lose my mother, but my grandson may also lose a crucial ally.
"After that, we shall see."
Now Rhaenys was irritated. She gave a small chuckle in response.
I finally realise how my mother and husband felt when I did not want to support Daeron's claim. Gods, it shall feel strange trying to convince another to do something even I was so wary about doing. I do truly hope that all of this shall be worth it.
Rhaenys took a breath.
"What is that supposed to mean?" Rhaenys coldly asked, whilst Meleys slowly growled outside.
"I shall continue to support you and Prince Daeron's cause out of respect of my aunt and the love me and my father bore for her." Lord Borros replied to the sound of thunder clapping.
Is this man a fool?
Rhaenys leaned forwards. "For the love you bear my lady mother, you would be going against her very wishes the moment she dies. You would be an oathbreaker. You would turn your back on your kin, Daeron is one-eighth Baratheon..."
"No, you are mistaken, I would not be an oathbreaker. I may not be able to read, Princess, but I am no fool to know that I am already forsaking my father's oath and committing treason to the King by even pledging my support to Daeron whilst Lady Jocelyn is alive. I have never met the young prince, the Queen I have barely met too, and I scarcely know you very well, cousin, either. This is a mercy from me, understand this." He retorted, whilst lightning flashed, and illuminated the hall.
Rhaenys thought she saw the shape of two dragons fighting in that moment.
If he does not wish to fully support Daeron, then why play this bloody game?
"So why tell me this, Lord Borros?"
Lord Borros leaned back in his seat. "I am willing to support Daeron on conditions..."
Of course, ever opportunistic and proud. What was I expecting with the grandson of Rogar Baratheon?
"And what conditions are that?"
"I have two daughters, when Daeron comes of age..."
He would rather a royal marriage than support his own blood. I cannot be surprised.
"The Prince is already betrothed to another, I'm afraid."
"That is a shame, then, Princess." He sighed.
"So, you would not support your own blood, because of that?" Rhaenys asked, with an icy tone in her voice.
"My blood? Yes, Daeron has the blood of my grandsire in him, that is true, but so does the Princess Rhaenyra, doesn't she? Both her and I share the blood of Queen Alyssa Velaryon, if I am correct. What I would hope, for your sake is that my lady wife has a son next, so your granddaughter can marry him, or Queen Laena has another young prince, to marry one of my girls. Otherwise, Princess Rhaenyra has a son too..." Lord Borros smiled, taking another drink of his wine.
The man never learned to read. It seems that he never learned the concept of honour either.
Rhaenys angrily stood up from her chair.
"Then I thank you for your hospitality and this meal. My time at Storm's End has come to an end." She hastily said, exiting the room.
When she left the drum tower, Meleys was wailing in anger, spluttering small flames of red and pink. Rhaenys stroked the dragon and climbed on top of her. Rhaenys whispered Meleys to calm and the dragon then took flight.
The Red Queen flapped her wings hastily and flew out of the castle, into the storm.
Am I angry at Lord Borros because his ambition and pride reminds me of what my Lord Husband would do?