CHAPTER 7
(Adapting)
RHAELLA TARGARYEN
A new granddaughter. Of all the things the Gods could throw at me, that was a new-one. When I first heard the news, my mind fluctuated between shock (only natural) and rage (I wanted to burn the Starks like my husband did), the comparison to Aerys sobered me up, and I donned the mask of reason again. Wondering what on earth possessed Lord Stark to kidnap a Princess of the realm, Power? Spite? Love? Understanding his motivation would be key to bringing peace between ice and fire.
"How is she?" I asked pointedly to Sir Arthur who was standing guard outside Visenya's door.
"Despondent would be a charitable description." He answered.
I frowned. I had hoped the young dragons fire would have cooled. I put on my mask of cool stoicism and entered the lair.
The room was trashed, as though as it had been tipped upside down and shaken. And Visenya was curled up in a ball in the midst of it, on the bed, who's mattress had been pulled apart.
"Are you quite finished young lady." I said. After learning the different tactics of my family when approaching the girl, I reasoned that a sympathetic coddling wouldn't do. She needed to be treated like an adult.
"What do you want?" She muttered.
"To see my granddaughter." I answered.
"Princess Rhaenys is not here, your grace."
"I have come to see Princess Visenya."
"Open a history book and you will find her. There is only Lyarra Snow here."
"Perhaps your right, I see no princess, but a petulant girl, who is incredibly stupid." I said bating her.
That got her full attention. She looks up from her knees, purple eyes a blaze. They looked like mine. I tried not to let emotion overcome me. The girl needed a mother. Elia would do her best, but Visenya needed a stern hand.
"I'm not stupid."
"The evidence contradicts you my dear."
"Explain your meaning."
"What has changed, really?"
"Are you japing? Everything has changed. I've been taken from my family, told my father isn't my father, and my name is not my name. I was a bastard, and now I'm a - "
"- a Princess." I finished. "Some would see that as a promotion."
"Not me."
"Yes, what a horrible turn of events. There you were living your happy life of bastardy, free to marry no-one higher than a second son of a poor minor house, and now you're a true-born princess, with the world at her feet. The bards will sing your lament, for generations."
I saw Visenya was trying to hold back a smile. Good - the tough love act was working.
"But you weren't quite happy, were you? Why else would you want to run away and join a sell sword company?"
"I wanted to choose my fate."
"You can."
"No. I substituted one cage for another. Though admittedly a finer one."
"So, you do agree. Nothing has changed."
Visenya did her best to grimace, but it came off as more of a cute pout.
"Fine! Nothing has changed."
"Excellent. Now what are you going to do about it?"
"What?"
"You made plans to escape at Winterfell, you un-horsed a Kings Guard, and would have been in the running to win the tourney, thus winning enough money to run off. Now you are in the red keep, how are you going to escape this time? What's your plan?"
"I - I don't understand. Do you want me to escape?"
"Of course not, silly dragon, I want you to stay. But I don't want a petulant spoiled little girl for a granddaughter. I want a dragon. And dragons have fire. If making plans for escape rekindles that fire, then I'll take it."
"You'll regret this." Visenya said her Northern rumble, grinning at me. At last, the dragon has woken. And what a cheeky young dragon it was.
"No. I won't. The maids will be coming in to tidy your room, and get you prepared for dinner with your rightful family"
"I'm not going to dinner."
"Don't be stupid Visenya. If you want to escape, you must play along. This is kings-landing, honesty will get you nowhere."
LYARRA
My skin was almost raw from the scrubbing. The maids had been delicate around my wound. But punctilious in scrubbing everything else. They had made the water nice and hot, which was a change to Winterfell, I was used to cold baths. I did my best not to enjoy it, it would not do to get accustomed to luxury.
The talk with my grandmother - no, the Queen regent - had changed things. She was different to the rest of them, she didn't hide her intent by pretty words, she didn't swaddle me with compliments and cooing, she was blunt, almost like a northerner. I knew she thought that potential escape was a good way to get me to behave, I knew she had no intention of letting me escape. But I would play along. I'd trick them all. I'd play Visenya, wait till their guard was down and flee to freedom.
After the bath. I was squeezed into a pretty velvet number, that was modest, but still showed more skin, than I was comfortable with. Then one of the aids - her name was Tabatha - arranged my hair into a waterfall braid.
They held a mirror up for me. I looked ... good. I hated to admit it. The maids all looked at me, expectantly. A nasty part of me, wanted to denigrate the work, out of spite. But the maids were just doing their jobs.
"It looks wonderful. Thank you everyone." They all beamed at me. Preening at the compliment.
"Wait till his graces see you, Princess, they'll be speechless." Tabatha said.
"Hopefully they'll remain speechless, so I won't have the burden of speaking to them. And please call me Lyarra in private." They all nodded, a little uncomfortable.
A rap on the door signalled company. And the imperial voice of my grandmother - No Lyarra, the Queen mother, spoke: "Are you presentable?"
"Yes, your grace." I answered.
The door opened revealing the Dowager Queen. Even in her autumn years, she looked majestic. Trailing behind her, was a man of similar age, Sir Barriston the Bold.
"Please Visenya, we above such formalities, her most well preserved and majestic monarch will do."
I giggled in spite of myself. My Grandmother – no, her most well preserved and majestic monarch - let out a rare smile too. She was even prettier when she smiled.
"You clean up well Visenya. Don't you agree, Sir Barriston?"
The venerable Knight blinked a few times, looking at me. I looked down, such attention always made uncomfortable.
"If I didn't know better your grace, I'd say I was standing in front of a younger version of yourself."
"Oh pish, Barriston. She's much better looking than I was. Her dark hair and northern influence, adds a welcome tincture of exotica."
"Thank you your grace, but I'm not that pretty." I said, trying not blush.
"Oh, shut up. Enough with your false modesty. When will girls learn that humility is not: pretty girl's pretending to be ugly, nor is it ugly girl's pretending that they're pretty. Accept the compliment Visenya with grace, then move on with grace, then you may be worthy of being called your grace."
"Yes Grandmother." Whoops did I say that out loud? I looked at Grandmother, to see if she caught the familiarity. If she had, she didn't make any intimation that she did. By the Old Gods I wish I was like her. I never had any female role models at Winterfell. So, I modelled myself based on the men. I wanted to be like a man. To spit like a man, Swing a sword like a man.
But after conversing with Grandmother, I felt that it wouldn't be such a bad thing to be like her. She didn't need to swing a sword to be intimidating. She had an easy eloquence, which I wish I had. And she was wise. The smartest woman I'd ever met. I wanted to be her.
The staring didn't stop, as Grandmother looped my arms through hers, marching me to the Targaryen private dining hall. Sir Barriston and Sir Arthur clanking behind us. I don't know whether they were staring at the novelty of me - being the long-lost princess - or at my beauty. It was still strange to think of myself in that way.
But Grandmother was right. Humility didn't mean lying to yourself. I was pretty and that was that.
We reached the doors of the private dining hall. Sir Oswell Whent was standing guard outside. He let us in. I sucked in a breath preparing myself for a very awkward evening.
As soon as we entered, everyone stood up. Four familiar faces peered at me, as well as one unfamiliar face. This must be the Princess Daenerys. Before I could say or do anything, the King - my new father - swept over to me, and picked me up in a gentle, yet stifling hug. Although he was tender, it still felt strange. Where he smelt of mint and soap, Lord Stark smelt of ash, oak and winter. I preferred my real my father's scent.
After an embarrassing amount of time, he put me down, one hand still on his should. I squirmed under his gaze.
"It is very rare, when real life exceeds my imagination. But you Visenya have. You're an astounding vision, I am afraid to blink, lest you disappear."
"Thank you, your grace, you're very kind. May we eat now, I have a hunger." I looked at Grandmother instinctively. She smiled, her eyes saying, "nicely done".
I had to endure more compliments. From Queen Elia, who seemed determined to buy my love with obsequious praise. Then there was Rhaenys and Aegon. Together they sandwiched me in a joint hug. Aegon at the back, his hot breath tickling my neck and ears. While Rhaenys pressed her rather large breasts against my small ones. They whispered their compliments to me in a rather sultry tone, they must have inherited from their mother.
Then there was Princess Daenerys, she was different. Less free with her emotions, but not as good as her mother. I detected a hungry look in her eyes, the same devouring glint, that Aegon possessed. She sauntered over.
"Does my new niece, have a kiss for her aunt?" Oh, she was bold. She offered her cheek up to me, and I pecked it dryly. Then she pulled me into a hug.
"That wasn't a proper kiss, you'll do better next time." She whispered, so low only I could hear her. I shivered. I would have to watch myself around her. At long last she let go.
"Where do you wish to sit Senya?" said Queen Elia, her hands petting the chair next to her. You wish.
"My laps free." Said Princess Daenerys. Rhaenys scowled at her.
"Daenerys" growled the King.
"It was a jape, oh brother of mine."
"Perhaps, I ought to marry you off, as a jape."
"That's not a joke. That's a death sentence. For the poor Lord that is."
The Kings was just about to retort, when Grandmother interrupted: "Visenya shall sit next to me. Daenerys you will cease with your ribald jests, and Rhaegar, may I remind you that you're the king, not a child playing at one."
"I think Visenya, ought to choose who she sits next to." Said Queen Elia.
"It's alright, I'll sit next to Grandmother your grace. I want to." I said.
Queen Elia did her best to hide her scowl. Was that jealousy? I watched her, as she shot Grandmother a filthy look, which she ignored. Was there some rivalry between, the dowager Queen, and the Queen proper? Something to exploit maybe.
Once we sat down, the meals came. There were three courses of starters. Made up of various soups, stews and broths. As well as Dornish salads, which like everything Dornish, was spicy. The main meals were made up of roasted goose, chicken, pheasant, a few meat pies, although they weren't as good as the North's, there was also a whole boar.
"What do you do with the food that we don't eat?" I asked, rubbing my belly.
"It is either preserved for later use or redistributed to the servants or the poor." Queen Elia answered quickly. Was she trying to impress me? I nodded my approval.
"So, Visenya. What was Winterfell like?" Asked Rhaenys. The clatter of knives and forks ceased.
"I'm sure your grace knows, as she spent two weeks there." I retorted.
"Don't be snippy Visenya." Said Grandmother. "And Rhaenys if you pose a vague question, expect a vague answer. Be more thorough in your questioning. It makes for better conversation."
"My daughter is mine to scold Rhaella." Queen Elia said. Grandmother nodded curtly. There was a little more silence. Then Princess Daenerys spoke:
"Who taught you to fight?"
"My Brother Robb -
"- Cousin." Muttered Aegon who had said the least throughout dinner. Opting instead to covertly glance at me and looking away when he got caught.
"My brother is brilliant at sword fighting. At Winterfell they call him the young wolf. He used to train me every night. He also taught me battle strategy, which is his specialty. His grace would do well to make peace with Starks. Else you might soon rest in peace. "
More silence followed. Aegon was grimacing, either because I'd lavished praise onto my superior brother, or by the veiled threat. The King was irate. His fists opening and closing. Daenerys, however, was grinning, it seemed she thrived on conflict.
"I think it would be best if we avoid politics." Said the King finally.
"Agreed." Said Grandmother.
"How about boys? Surely there were a few men - or women - who caught your eye." Said Princess Daenerys. I didn't think any more frown lines could appear on Aegons face. I was wrong. Even Rhaenys was scowling.
"I danced with a few lords when I was younger, but none since, I got older. The only boy I was allowed to dance with then were my brothers. Because brothers don't like their sisters that way." I directed that last comment at Aegon.
To my delight, he avoided my eye, looking guilty.
"That is the sheep talking. You're dragon, dear niece. And dragons are fit only to couple with other dragons." Said Daenerys, her barbed comment, directed at Queen Elia.
"How about some music father?" Rhaenys asked. It seemed we were changing subjects again.
"I don't feel up for singing tonight. Anyone else? Visenya."
"I don't sing or play." I lied.
"Really. Because Aegon tells me that you sing quite well. 'Better than me'. Were his exact words."
Aegon smirked at me. And it was my turn to scowl back.
"I find myself quite tired. May I got to bed?" I said standing up.
"Of course, daughter." I was subjected to another hug from the King, who lifted me up off my feet, making me feel like a little girl. I said goodbye to Grandmother and extended curt pardons to the rest of them.
Sir Arther then escorted me back to my room. The mess had been cleared, and in the corner a violin and a harp had been added. I told Sir Arther that I would undress myself, and that there was no need for the maids.
I then sat on my bed and began to think. It seemed Grandmother and Daenerys did not like or Queen Elia, for some reason. They treated her like an outsider, a hanger-on. Perhaps because she was not Targaryen.
Rhaenys and Daenerys also had a rivalry. Although I wasn't sure what that was about. I might be able to exploit Queen Elia's need for my love, by using grandmother to make her jealous. I would need coin for transport, and Queen Elia might give it to me. A few hugs, and perhaps kisses, and I'd have the money.
Aegon wanted me to. He had inherited the Targaryen proclivity for incest. Daenerys too. And possibly Rhaenys. That was good. I could play them off each other. Sow decent and chaos into the house of the dragon, which would help my family in the north, and provide a good cover for escape.
My thoughts then turned to the north. They were rebelling because of me. How many Northmen would die for me? How much would my kin suffer because I'd stupidly entered a tourney. If only I'd listened to father.
Melancholy gripped me. I walked over to the violin, the muse striking me. I walked out onto the balcony, to look over the red keep. I had clearly been thinking for longer than I thought.
It was almost dark. Grey angry clouds swarmed over the place. I heard the sound of steel coming from the training yards and began to play.
Rain started to fall as I sang:
Where once was light
Now darkness falls
Where once was love. Love is no more
Don't say - goodbye
Don't say - I didn't try
These tears we cry - Are falling rain
For all the lies
You told us. The hurt, the blame!
And we will weep
To be so alone
We are lost!
We can never go home
So in the end I will be what I will be.
No loyal friend
Was ever there for me
Now we say - goodbye
We say - you didn't try
These tears you cry
Have come too late
Take back the lies.
The hurt, the blame!
And you will weep
When you face the end alone
You are lost! You can never go home
You are lost!
You can never go home
AEGON
Damn her! No don't damn her. It wasn't her fault the Stark raised us to hate us. It was their fault. And that Robb Stark. Dancing with his sister. Oh, Visenya may have though his feelings were platonic, purely brotherly, without eros. I know better. Robb Stark wants my sister the way I want her. He can't have her. She's mine.
"Where once was love. Love is no more
Don't say - goodbye
Don't say - I didn't try "
That was Visenya's voice. How could something sad be so beautiful? I stopped hacking at the dummy to listen to her.
"Love is no more".
I will show you love Visenya. Real love.
RHAENYS
That dinner could have gone better, I thought to myself. I was in my room, contemplating Visenya - who else. She no longer screamed and flinched at our mere presence. That was a start. But incest clearly disgusted her. Perhaps if I befriended Visenya, be a typical sister, then that might develop into something more.
But how? Father would be announcing Aegon and I's, engagement. We needed Visenya. We needed a third. Or else our marriage was doomed. I loved Aegon I did, but I needed a woman too.
So, in the end I will be what I will be.
No loyal friend
Was ever there for me
It was if Visenya had heard my thoughts and was replying. Her voice really was stunning, Aegon didn't lie. The music entered my heart and inflamed my need to have her tenfold. There was an ache in me, that only Visenya could fill.
ELIA
I hate that woman (Rhaella) I hate that she still could make me feel weak and inferior after all these years. I had birthed her two healthy grandchildren to further the Targaryen dynasty, and that wasn't enough. But - oh no - because I wasn't Targaryen, I was still an outsider, inferior stock. Rhaegar put his mother on a pedestal and wouldn't hear another word against her. He didn't understand. No-one did.
I sighed. Lyanna would've understood. We would've been outsiders together. But Visenya preferred Rhaella to me. She was grandmother, and I was Queen Elia.
These tears you cry
Have come too late
Take back the lies.
The hurt, the blame!
That was her voice now. Her haunting melody torturing me. I wasn't there for her, or her mother. Lyanna died alone in a tower in Dorne, her daughter stolen away. I was supposed to protect her.
I began to cry.
RHAEGAR
And you will weep
When you face the end alone
You are lost!
I had caught every spectral word in that song, and it was these last ones that hit home. It brought me back to the trident. It was raining then too. With blood and water. For a moment then I almost lost my life, it was only Arthur that saved me from Robert's wrath.
And here I was preparing for a possible war with the north again. I got lucky once, would I get lucky again?
And you will weep
When you face the end alone
You are lost!
AUTHORS NOTE:
CHAPTER 8 is AVAILABLE on my P….atreon. If you can't wait until I post it on A03 and Fan .
Stories will still be free. It will just be posted quicker on P…atreon.
Link: …p… /Albigor