The moon hung low over King's Landing, casting a silver glow on the rooftops and alleys below. In the shadows of the city, a new world had been woven, one filled with clandestine meetings and stolen moments. Rhaenyra Targaryen had never felt so alive, yet the danger that lingered in every corner made her heart race with excitement.
With Tyson by her side, she meticulously planned her secret correspondences with Robert Stronghammer. The young boy had proven to be a reliable messenger, his youth and agility making him perfect for slipping through the shadows of the city undetected.
"Alright, Tyson," Rhaenyra said, her voice barely above a whisper as they crouched in the narrow passageway leading to the secret entrance of the Red Keep. "You know where to hide Robert's letters?"
Tyson nodded, his eyes wide with the thrill of their secret mission. "Yes, Princess. I'll put his letter in the same spot under the loose floorboard in the empty room. No one ever looks there."
"Good. And remember, don't linger," she instructed, her heart racing with the thought of her words reaching Robert. "You must be quick. The longer you're out, the greater the risk."
"I know, I know," Tyson said, his youthful enthusiasm bubbling over. "I'll be like a shadow!"
Rhaenyra smiled at the boy's excitement, grateful for his willingness to help. He was not just a messenger; he had become an accomplice in her quest for love. She handed him a small rolled-up parchment. "This is my letter to Robert. Make sure he gets it."
Tyson accepted the letter with reverence, glancing at the princess with admiration. "I won't let you down, Princess Rhaenyra."
With one last nod, Rhaenyra watched as he slipped into the darkness of the tunnel, his small figure disappearing as he darted toward the entrance of King's Landing. She felt a flutter of nerves in her stomach but pushed it aside, focusing on the thrill of what was to come.
Once Tyson was out of sight, Rhaenyra took a deep breath and made her way back to her chambers in the Red Keep. She had learned to navigate the castle like a ghost, slipping past guards and servants, her heart pounding with each close call. The castle felt different now, as if it held her secrets and her desires within its stone walls.
As the days turned into weeks, the letters between her and Robert flowed like a river, filled with dreams and promises. They spoke of their hopes, their fears, and the life they yearned to build together—a life free from the constraints of their noble titles and the expectations that came with them.
My heart races when I think of you, Rhaenyra, Robert had written in one letter, his handwriting bold and confident. You give me a reason to fight for my future, to dream of what we could be. I wish I could hold you in my arms and tell you that everything will be alright.
Rhaenyra sighed as she read his words, feeling a warmth spread through her. And I you, she had replied. I've never felt this way about anyone. It frightens me, but it excites me even more. I can't wait for the day when we can be together without fear.
Their plans began to take shape, both of them imagining a future that was as reckless as it was thrilling. They dreamed of escaping to the distant shores of Essos or the mountains of Dorne, far away from the watchful eyes of the Red Keep and the Targaryens' legacy.
But amidst their dreams, reality loomed heavily over them. Each letter exchanged was a reminder of the dangers they faced, the stakes of their love.
One evening, Rhaenyra received a letter from Robert that made her heart race with urgency. Meet me at the old mill by the river tonight. I need to see you, to hold you. There are things I must tell you—things that could change everything.
Her breath caught in her throat as she read the note. A rush of anticipation surged through her veins, mingled with a hint of anxiety. What could be so important? She had never known Robert to be anything but confident, but the urgency in his words unsettled her.
That night, as the moon hung high in the sky, Rhaenyra donned a simple cloak to disguise her royal attire and made her way through the winding streets of King's Landing. With every step, her heart raced with a mixture of excitement and fear. What awaited her at the old mill?
When she arrived, the mill stood silent, the sound of water gently flowing nearby. Rhaenyra took a deep breath, her nerves buzzing as she stepped inside. The dim light illuminated the space, and there, in the shadows, stood Robert.
He looked up as she entered, his face breaking into a smile that sent a wave of relief through her. "Rhaenyra," he breathed, crossing the distance between them and taking her hands in his. "You made it."
"I couldn't bear the thought of missing you," she replied, her heart fluttering as he pulled her closer. "But you sounded serious in your letter. What's wrong?"
Robert's expression turned somber as he stepped back, his grip still firm around her hands. "There are rumors, Rhaenyra. Word has spread that I have been seen with you, and it's drawing attention from those who would use it against us."
Rhaenyra's stomach dropped. "What do you mean?"
"I've heard whispers that Otto Hightower is planning to use my connection to you to sway your father against me," Robert explained, his voice low. "If he can convince the king that I'm a threat, it could ruin everything we've worked for."
Rhaenyra's heart raced. The idea of their secret being exposed sent chills down her spine. "But we haven't done anything wrong. We haven't even announced our relationship."
"Yet," Robert said, his eyes intense. "But the game of politics is ruthless. They don't need proof—just the suspicion will be enough."
Rhaenyra felt a mix of anger and frustration boil within her. "They can't dictate our lives, Robert! We deserve to be happy, to choose our own paths."
Robert's grip tightened around her hands, his eyes softening as he searched her face. "I want to fight for us, Rhaenyra. But we need to be cautious. I can't bear the thought of putting you in danger."
Rhaenyra nodded, her heart aching at the thought of losing him. "What do we do? How can we make this work?"
Robert stepped closer again, his voice dropping to a whisper. "We keep writing to each other. We keep our plans alive in secret, and we'll find a way to be together. But we must tread carefully. I need you to trust me."
"I trust you," Rhaenyra replied, her resolve strengthening. "And I won't let them take away what we have."
As they stood in the shadows of the old mill, Rhaenyra felt a fierce determination rise within her. She would fight for her love, for Robert, and for the future they dared to dream of. And as they kissed beneath the light of the moon, the world outside faded away, leaving only the two of them and the promise of what was to come.
Robert Stronghammer sat in the dim light of his hideout, surrounded by crumpled parchment and the faint scent of wine lingering in the air. He could hardly believe the depth of his feelings for Rhaenyra Targaryen, a passion that ignited something inside him he had never felt before. Unlike his fleeting encounters with Lyanna Stark, where they barely exchanged words, his correspondence with Rhaenyra was a lifeline—a series of vibrant threads connecting their hearts across the divide of social status and expectation.
As he read and reread the letters, each note from Rhaenyra felt like a fresh breath of air for a man who had been choking under the weight of his past. The way she expressed herself—her wit, her sarcasm—brought a smile to his face even in the most difficult of times. One particular line lingered in his mind, dripping with playful irony: "The only way for my father to accept you, Robert, is if you claim a dragon for yourself or become a king."
Her words echoed in his thoughts, initially causing him to chuckle. But as the laughter faded, a seed of contemplation took root. Was it truly impossible for a man like him to claim a dragon? He recalled the lessons he had learned from Jon Arryn, the stories of the Dance of the Dragons, and how even those with no royal blood had managed to tame the mighty beasts. Names like Nettles, Ulf White and Hugh Hammer rose to the forefront of his mind, tales of common men who had risen to greatness through sheer will and connection to the Targaryens.
Could he do the same?
Robert leaned back, rubbing his temples as he weighed the implications of such an endeavor. The thought of claiming a dragon—of standing before the great beast and asserting his will—filled him with a mix of dread and exhilaration. His heart raced at the idea of not just being a knight or the bastard son of Lord Bormund Baratheon, but a man of power, someone who could carve his name into the annals of history.
His grandmother was a Targaryen, after all. He could almost hear her voice whispering to him from the past, urging him to embrace his bloodline. The stories of the Targaryens were steeped in legacy and fire, and Robert felt the flames of ambition stir within him. If those who had no blood ties could tame dragons, why couldn't he, the grandson of a Targaryen, rise to the challenge?
He quickly scribbled a note to Rhaenyra, pouring his thoughts onto the parchment. He wrote of his resolve, his determination to find a dragon and stake his claim. I may be just a bastard, but I will not be defined by my lineage. I will prove my worth, and I will claim a dragon and built my own kingdom. He folded the letter and sealed it with a piece of wax, feeling a sense of purpose grow inside him.
Tyson, the young boy who had become their bridge, was due to return soon, and Robert's mind raced with the possibilities. He envisioned what their life could be like if he succeeded. A dragon at his side would not just change his fate; it would change the fate of Rhaenyra and their future together.
As he waited, Robert's thoughts drifted to Rhaenyra's purple eyes, the way they sparkled with mischief and determination. He could almost hear her laughter ringing in his ears, and the thought of her ignited a fierce desire to fight against the odds stacked against them. They would not be mere players in the game of thrones; they would rewrite the rules.
Moments later, Tyson appeared at the entrance, his small frame silhouetted against the dim light of the hideout. Robert quickly tucked away his thoughts, donning a mask of casual ease. "Tyson!" he called, a smile breaking across his face. "You're just in time. I have a letter for Rhaenyra."
Tyson scampered forward, excitement dancing in his eyes. "Did you get her last note? She was worried when you didn't respond right away."
"I did, and I've written back," Robert replied, handing the letter to the boy. "Make sure it gets to her safely."
"Of course!" Tyson beamed, clutching the parchment as if it were a precious treasure. "I'll be quick as a shadow."
Robert watched as the boy darted away, a sense of hope swelling in his chest. He knew the risks that lay ahead, but the prospect of claiming a dragon ignited a fire within him that he couldn't extinguish. The path ahead would be fraught with challenges, but he was no longer content to sit idly by. He would seek out the dragons of old, learn their secrets, and forge a new destiny—not just for himself, but for Rhaenyra, too.
As he sat in the fading light, a newfound resolve coursed through him. He was ready to take on the world, to claim his place in it, and to win the heart of the woman he loved.
Author's Note:
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