Ever since she had found herself in this world, she had been angry and confused. Through no fault of her own, she had been put into a situation very few would've enjoyed - and only her mother's love and pragmatism saved her from a horrible fate. Sometimes, when she had still been young and a babe, she had thought it would've been better for everyone if she had perished alongside her twin and her older sister, but each time she met Doran and Oberyn's eyes, she had felt guilty for her treacherous thoughts.
"She already feels her mother's loss," they would say when they were around her, unaware of the truth behind their words. How could she explain that in the few seconds where she had been held by Elia, she had felt so much love for her? It was truly horrible to think she had never been able to know her parents' in either life - and mayhaps the Gods had been good to Rhaegar because she knew she would have found a way to kill him before he had done any more damage.
As soon as she had been able to stand on her own two feet, she rushed to the library and soaked in the knowledge. It might have been a bit hypocritical of her, but she had always thought Dorne's history was the best one out of all the kingdoms. After all, the first born child always inherits, whatever their sex and had been able to stand against the dragon's invasion - going as far as killing a massive fire breathing creature, which hadn't been done in Westeros until the Dance of Dragons. Don't even get her started on this part of Targaryen history: they still claimed Aegon II was the rightful king when he had been the Usurper and the main reason why their House had faced a decline. Again, she was biased since the rightful Queen shared the same name as hers - but she would not follow in her footsteps. Rhaenyra could still remember how heartbroken she had felt when she read about Jacaerys, Lucerys and Joffrey's death - and knowing her close connection with Death, she wondered if some of the despair she had felt was the original Rhaenyra reaching up to her.
The Princess of Dorne also had trouble getting over the fact that this world - Planetos as she had learned later on, was abysmal at evolution. She had almost balked at the fact that even after 8000 years, nothing had truly changed: no democracy, no same-sex rights, slavery across the Narrow Sea, the Faith still as predominant as ever and butting into matters that they should stay away from… Rhaenyra had not wanted to believe some of the tales from the Age of Heroes, but she could still shudder when she thought about the White Walkers who were getting stronger and stronger in order to breach the Wall and end the realm of men. Smallfolk were still seen as lesser than other people - and at the time where dragons prevailed, she could understand but she knew they could rebel. Why hadn't they?
Had Fleur been here with her, she would've been insulted by their lack of Frenchness - she had been proud of her country's history and how they had stood up against their superior and taken power into their own hands. Nothing was ever perfect, but she would've thought that after they destroyed the Dragonpit and killed the fire breathing creatures, they would've gone even further and just gotten rid of the royalty right away.
Rhaenyra knew it was somehow due to the Faith of the Seven - as a princess, whether a Martell or a Targaryen, she would've been expected to follow the same faith, but she had trouble imagining herself truly believing in such.
The Father who served as some sort of judge (patriarchal society much?), the Mother who apparently is not important enough to pray to unless for mercy, the Warrior who protects their followers, which means a big fuck you to the followers of the Old Gods and Mother Rhoyne, the Smith, another man apparently smarter than women who can build things, the Maiden who is the perfect personification of innocence and purity, because why else would a woman aspire to be anything more than that, the Crone, an old and wise lady - because after she cannot give birth anymore, she is good for nothing more than berating you for your life choices and the Stranger, the only one she actually gave credence to and only because she had met him.
Can you feel her sarcasm?
Alyssa Potter had been good, self-sacrificing and brave. She had strived to end tyranny and protect people. Was she not a warrior? And yet, she didn't have a cock between her legs. Hadn't she judged others fairly and given them their due? Draco would've rotted in a cell in Azkaban for being nothing more than a spoiled and scared teenager. Hadn't she raised Teddy to the best of her ability and given him anything he could've ever asked for? Hadn't she created spells and forged swords with the help of Goblins after she had tried to reconcile with them? Hadn't she been wise beyond her years because of the abuse she had been through because of old meddling men who had no more use from her when it wasn't to kill another wizard, seventy years her senior because of a blasted prophecy? Wasn't she the Mistress of Death, soothing the souls she knew to walk towards their end?
And yet, she only felt safe when she was in front of a weirwood tree, praying to the Old Gods. They required nothing more than her faith in them, even though she had made a few sacrifices of blood to them. Nothing more than a few pinches of her own - they did not discriminate but she did not want to offend them by offering a criminal or someone undeserving of their attention. But she had the blood of Kings and so much magic within her veins that she had felt their contentment each time she had been in Starfall, the only time where she could kneel in front of the white wood, feeling eyes on her through the carved faces. For each of her sacrifices, they seemed to offer her a bit of tree's sap, which was amazing for some of her most important potions - making them more potent.
Yes, Alyssa Potter had been a good and honorable woman, but Elia Martell born Rhaenyra Targaryen was not. She would never be. She could not afford to be - even if she wanted to. She would let the world burn if it meant saving the people she loved, the people who protected her and cherished her - and that was why she could not wait for the worst to happen while Dorne and the North would stay safe.
She had many feelings about the Starks - not all of them good, but she knew they stemmed from difficult matters. Lord Eddard Stark had never been prepared to become Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North: he had been raised in the Eyrie alongside Baratheon and Arryn, the latter drumming into his head about honor and the like. It was almost disappointing: hadn't the Kings of Winter killed and ravaged to stay at the top? They didn't have dragons but they had not needed them to bring people to heel. People could praise the Targaryens as much as they wanted for their Conquest - and yet, they could have never held the Seven Kingdoms if not for their mounts.
Sighing, she looked at the man in front of her - who had seemingly aged in the last few minutes. "You are an honorable man Lord Stark," she said, while noticing the looks Catelyn and Robb Stark were sending her way. "And it must have been horrible for you to discover that you had lost a father and a brother because your sister and my blasted sire decided to elope and get married without informing anyone."
It took Rhaenyra a second to regain her bearings, still angry each time she thought about Rhaegar and Lyanna exchanging their vows at the Isle of Faces with a drunk Septon, not even thinking of his lawful wife and his children. "My sire was a swine: selfish, useless and as mad as his father. I can't even begin to tell you how happy I am that they perished for what they have done to my mother, Princess Elia." She turned cold in less than a few seconds. "And yet, my brother is not to blame - when you look at him, you see the Rebellion and you left your wife to trample all over his self confidence. He might not be as legitimate as Lyanna and Rhaegar would have liked," - the Starks were surprised by the anger and hatred whilst she spoke of the man who had participated in her birth - "but he is my only living sibling, which means he deserves better than freezing his ass in some frozen seven hundred feet tall Wall."
For the Watch.
Mayhaps it had been this vision that had changed her disdain towards her half-brother whom she had never wanted to meet at first. But he had tried to be good, to wash of the stain of bastardy from his own person and was never rewarded for it. Her eyes still twitched whenever she thought of him daggering their aunt and Queen at the time, but she knew he always strived to do good for people, and the parallels between him and Alyssa were just too similar not to make her intervene.
"We will not help you regain the Iron Throne," said the stern Lord in front of her. The silence was all consuming, but she was sure they hadn't expected her to start laughing and wheezing at his words.
No, never. "I would rather die than go on some sort of Conquest for the reason why my mother and siblings were killed," she almost spat at him while trying to still look as the princess she was. "Have you ever heard of a happy Targaryen woman who has lived in the Red Keep? I haven't. Rhaena was raped by her uncle Maegor before she could flee, Aerea was usurped before coming back from Valyria a shade of herself and dying, Alysanne was a conceited woman who led to another Faith uprising because she married her brother and yet, didn't let her children and grandchildren have the same love she fought for, Aemma Arryn, butchered for a male heir while her mother had been married at eleven and died in childbirth, Rhaenyra lost her family and her rightful throne because of her stepmother and halfbrothers, Heleana jumped from Maegor's Holdfast and died on the spikes below, her daughter later doing the same, Naerys raped and beaten by her brother, Daenerys sold to Dorne, Rhaelle to the Stormlands and finally, mine own grandmother, Queen Rhaella, being locked for years for suspicion of infidelity, my sister Rhaenys stabbed a hundred times by Lorch because Tywin Lannister wanted his daughter to be Queen."
Nothing was a lie - when she had read about the women's fate of House Targaryen, she had been shocked and disgusted. Jaehaerys the Conciliator they called him and yet, he was the one that she was the most judgmental about. He had usurped his sister and niece, and since he didn't want people to call his rule under question, he hadn't let his granddaughter, Rhaenys Targaryen, the Queen who Never Was, ascend the Throne. There was no doubt in her mind that she would've been more efficient than her cousin, Viserys the First - the dragons might have been still alive. For some reason, she was sure there was a grander conspiracy at play, which her Uncle Oberyn seemed to agree with. Speaking of him, she turned to look at him and noticed he was dozing off.
"If I have anything to stay about it, I will never be close enough to King's Landing. If you would follow me to the Godswood with your lady wife and heir while my uncle makes the proper arrangement for our stay here, you will understand me better."
As they left the Great Keep where the Lord's solar was located, they walked through the bridge while she looked around her. She was walking alongside Robb while Lady Catelyn and her husband were before them, each one looking tense for different reasons. She knew the eldest Tully had been promised to Brandon Stark once upon a time, but from what she knew of her, she would have resented being his wife - one bastard would've been the least of her problems. But the fact that Lord Eddard had hid the truth from her about his sister might sour their relationship for a bit: she didn't even care. Lyanna had been this figure head they rallied after whereas her pious and gentle mother had been a necessary sacrifice.
As they arrived to their destination, sans her presumed Father, she was taken aback. The ancient godswood of Winterfell has remained untouched for ten thousand years. Three acres of ancient grounds and lush trees create a lush canopy around which the castle is built. In the middle of the grove stood an ancient weirwood with a face carved into it, and a pool of black water above it. The magic of the castle was more prominent here and she could almost touch it.
Rhaenyra kneeled and touched the bark of the tree, her movements mirrored by her hosts and she took them down what might have been their future if she didn't intervene.
