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Chapter 27 - Chapter 25 - The Dragoness

275 AC

Rhaella Pov

The heavy doors to my chamber swung open, and in rushed Daeron, his silver hair flowing behind him as he sprinted towards me. I opened my arms, ready to catch him as he crashed into me, his excitement palpable.

"Muna, I saw a Valyrian steel sword!" Daeron exclaimed, his eyes sparkling with enthusiasm.

I couldn't help but smile at his excitement. "How big was it?" I asked, indulging him in his tale.

"It was this big!" Daeron gestured wildly with his hands, attempting to convey the impressive size of the sword.

Daemon followed close behind, a smile playing on his lips as he joined us. "Our little dragon even tried to lift it," he added, planting a quick kiss on my cheek before settling down beside us.

"I'm so proud of you, Daeron," I said, pulling him into a warm embrace, though he squirmed in my arms, much to Daemon's delight.

"But Mother, Daeron was quite mischievous as well," Daemon interjected with a mischievous glint in his eyes, and I caught on to the teasing tone.

"Is that true, Daeron?" I turned to him, my gaze searching as he attempted to defend himself.

"He told Lord Tarly that when he grows up, he will come and take Heartsbane from him," Daemon chimed in with a grin.

"Daeron, is that true?" I asked, knowing full well how quickly the lords could take offense.

"Well, the aged Lord Tarly accepted little Daeron's challenge, but his heir, Randyll Tarly, was not quite pleased," Daemon added, his amusement evident.

I pressed on, my tone gentle yet firm. "Did you really say that, Daeron?" I inquired as he shifted uncomfortably under my gaze.

"I... I just wanted a Valyrian sword for myself, and Father said that a dragon gets whatever he wants," Daeron confessed, and a surge of frustration rose within me at the thought of Aerys instilling such entitlement in our youngest son.

"What horseshit is Aerys teaching you?" I couldn't help but exclaim, my disappointment evident.

"I'm sorry, Muna," Daeron murmured, his eyes welling up with remorse.

"Daeron, the dragons that made us what we are are long gone from this world. All we have is ourselves, so we have to earn the right to be above others. Family is everything," Daemon interjected, his words a soothing balm to Daeron's distress as I watched him wipe away his tears.

"I will become strong, Daemon, then I will protect you all," Daeron declared, his voice filled with determination.

"I'm sure you will, little brother," Daemon said with a warm smile, ruffling Daeron's hair affectionately.

As I observed Daemon's bond with Daeron, I couldn't help but lament the strained relationship between Daemon and Rhaegar.

I remembered the days when they used to play together with such joy, but now it seemed that Daemon rarely wanted to be in his elder brother's presence.

"Daeron, it's time for you to go and bathe. We need to get ready for the feast," I instructed, but Daeron resisted, insisting that Daemon join him.

Daeron could be quite stubborn when he wanted to, and he was more headstrong than both of his brothers combined.

However, Daemon managed to persuade Daeron. I could hear him whispering something about the lemon cakes that would be served at the feast, and Daeron hurried along, eager to bathe as quickly as possible.

"Have you decided which dress you're going to wear?" Daemon asked, scanning the array of dresses strewn across the bed.

"Well, this one looks nice," he pointed towards a sleek black dress.

"I doubt anyone will be paying much attention to me with all eyes on your brother and you," I replied.

"I'd be content if the ladies would just leave me alone; they seem more interested in throwing themselves at Rhaegar," he chuckled.

"After all, who wouldn't want to be queen?" he added.

"I never aspired to be queen, Daemon," I said softly, meeting his gaze.

His eyes held mine as I continued, "All I ever wanted was to marry a good man and have a loving family. Becoming queen was the furthest thing from my mind."

"At least you got your loving family, Mother," he said gently.

"Yes, I did," I replied, a bittersweet smile touching my lips.

"Is everything alright, Mother?" Daemon asked, concern evident in his eyes.

"Daemon, when I see you and Daeron together, it fills my heart with immense happiness. Why cannot it be the same with Rhaegar?" I couldn't help but voice my longing.

Instantly, Daemon's expression shifted, his features tightening. "He's the crown prince, Mother. He's consumed with his duties, and so am I," he replied, his tone guarded.

"Daemon, I want—" I began, but before I could finish, he cut me off. "Mother, I have to get ready," he said abruptly. "I'll meet you at the feast."

With a heavy heart, I watched him leave, wondering if I would ever understand the complexities of my two sons' relationship with each other.

 -------

The feast was in full swing, the lively melodies of the musicians filling the air as they deftly played their instruments. Servants weaved through the throng, presenting a multitude of sumptuous dishes. Glancing beside me, I saw Daeron fully engrossed in devouring a chicken leg, while Aerys, already deep in his cups, was shamelessly fondling the serving girls.

Turning my gaze to the dance floor, I spotted Rhaegar gracefully twirling one noble girl after another, his princely charm captivating them all. Nearby, Daemon was engaged in conversation with members of the various noble houses, his demeanor composed yet attentive amidst the festivities.

"These feasts are truly boring," Olenna Tyrell remarked, her voice tinged with disdain. "A waste of coin," she added with a dismissive wave of her hand. I merely nodded politely in response.

After a moment's silence, she fixed me with a keen gaze. "I will not beat around the bush," she declared. "I want you to take my youngest daughter, Janna, as your lady-in-waiting."

Her request caught me off guard, and I couldn't hide my surprise.

"Don't be so surprised, dear. The offers for you to take ladies-in-waiting will start increasing very soon," she explained. "You've given the king three sons, and lords from the North to the South will be eager to see their daughters married into the royal family."

"You want your daughter to become the future queen," I ventured cautiously.

Olenna laughed at my remark. "I've always found your Targaryen customs quite odd, especially concerning the maladies present in your house," she remarked casually. Her words stung, and I felt a surge of anger rising within me.

"What do you mean, Lady Olenna?" I retorted, my tone icy.

She continued with a mischievous glint in her eye. "Well, I, too, was betrothed to a Targaryen once, but sadly, or perhaps for the better, he loved swords more than he loved women," she said coyly.

"It's not good to speak ill of the dead," I reminded her sharply.

"That's true," she conceded. "So, what do you say about my daughter?" she pressed on, shifting the conversation back to her proposal.

I glanced at her daughter, Janna, and after a moment's consideration, I replied, "Very well, I will take her as my lady-in-waiting."

A smile spread across Lady Olenna's face. "I believe that my daughter would help ease your burdens," she remarked.

"Lady Olenna," I interjected.

"Yes, dear?" she responded.

"You didn't answer my question," I reminded her.

"At first, I wasn't interested in finding a match in the House of the Dragon, as I didn't see much of a future. But then I met your second son," she confessed.

"It's very rare that someone like him is born," she continued. "Madness and greatness are a part of a Targaryen's destiny, and I see a mix of both in him. After all, his father is the most powerful man in the Seven Kingdoms," she concluded, a glint of ambition shining in her eyes. As she locked gazes with me, her meaning became clear.

"Yes, you're correct. After all, Aerys is the one with the most authority in the Seven Kingdoms," I acknowledged, understanding her veiled implication.

"The more one repeats the lies, the faster they become the truth," she remarked with a chilling smile.

With that, Lady Olenna bid her farewell. "I will be taking my leave, Your Grace," she said, and I simply nodded in acknowledgment.

 

-------

The atmosphere was filled with excitement as the jousts unfolded. Aerys cheered wildly from his seat, his enthusiasm matching the fervor of the crowd, as Rhaegar skillfully bested knight after knight in the joust.

Daeron watched with evident delight, his admiration for his brother shining in his eyes, while Daemon engaged in conversation with Mace Tyrell, the two exchanging words amidst the bustling activity of the tournament grounds.

As the final moments of the joust approached, the announcer's voice boomed across the arena, drawing all eyes to the remaining contenders.

"Only four knights remain," he declared, his voice echoing. "Ser Barristan Selmy of the Kingsguard," he began, and Ser Barristan bowed his head respectfully to the king. "Ser Gerold Hightower, the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard. The Sword of the Morning, Ser Arthur Dayne. And finally, the crowd favorite, the Crown Prince himself, Ser Rhaegar Targaryen."

At the mention of Rhaegar's name, the cries of adoration from the women in the crowd intensified, some even swooning at the mere mention of his title. I couldn't help but feel a swell of pride as I watched my son, the Crown Prince, command the attention and admiration of the crowd.

I could not help but be proud of my son.

The first joust was set: Ser Gerold Hightower against the Crown Prince. The anticipation in the air was palpable as the two knights prepared to face each other.

Ser Gerold stood resplendent in his Kingsguard armor, adorned with a gleaming white shield. On the other side, Rhaegar appeared every inch the dragon, clad in night-black plate armor. The three-headed dragon of House Targaryen shimmered in rubies on his breastplate, while his helm bore silken streamers in gold, orange, and red, resembling flames dancing in the wind.

As they charged towards each other, I held my breath, praying for my son's safety. The clash was thunderous as their lances shattered upon impact, sending splinters flying in all directions.

They engaged in four more passes, each unsettling the other, the tension mounting with each clash of their lances. But in the sixth pass, Rhaegar's skill proved superior as he managed to unseat the Lord Commander, Ser Gerold Hightower, from his horse. The crowd erupted into cheers at the Crown Prince's victory.

Daeron cheered ecstatically, his joy evident as he celebrated his brother's triumph. Even Aerys joined in the jubilation, his cheers echoing through the arena. However, when I looked into Daemon's eyes, I sensed a different emotion. It seemed he was ambivalent to his brother's victory, his expression betraying a complex mix of emotions.

The next joust commenced between Ser Barristan Selmy and Ser Arthur Dayne, a close friend of Rhaegar's.

At the onset of the tournament, Daemon had confided in me, expressing his concerns about the odds being in Barristan's favor. However, as the joust unfolded between Ser Barristan and Ser Arthur, I couldn't shake the feeling that perhaps Barristan might not emerge victorious. Both knights were formidable, and despite Barristan's reputation, there was a palpable tension in the air.

I noticed Daemon's intense focus on the field, his worry evident as he watched over Barristan, who had been his sworn shield since Daemon was a child. Barristan had rarely strayed far from Daemon's side, a testament to the bond they shared.

Then, the resounding clash of Ser Arthur's lance against Ser Barristan's shield echoed through the arena, and my heart sank as Barristan was unseated from his horse. The crowd murmured in surprise at the unexpected turn of events, as the young Dayne had triumphed over the renowned knight of the Kingsguard.

Then came the final joust between Rhaegar and Arthur. The two knights charged at each other with fierce determination. Over ten lances were broken as they clashed relentlessly, neither willing to yield. The intensity of their duel held the crowd in rapt attention.

Finally, Rhaegar's skill and determination prevailed as he managed to unseat Ser Arthur, securing his victory. The crowd erupted into cheers, their jubilation echoing throughout the arena. Aerys himself couldn't contain his pride and joy, his face alight with excitement. "Look at our son, Rhaella," he exclaimed with delight, his admiration for Rhaegar evident in his voice.

And I, too, couldn't help but smile, my heart swelling with pride for my son's victory.

"And now, I present the winner of the joust, Ser Rhaegar Targaryen, to crown his Queen of Love and Beauty," announced the herald. A crown of beautiful golden flowers was bestowed upon him.

All the ladies in attendance waited with bated breath, hoping that Rhaegar would choose them as the recipient of this honor. However, instead of selecting a lady from the crowd, Rhaegar directed his horse towards me.

"The only one worthy of this honor is my mother, the queen herself," he declared with a gentle smile, lifting the crown delicately on the tip of his lance and offering it to me.

Tears welled up in my eyes as the crowd erupted into cheers, moved by Rhaegar's gesture of love and respect.

 ----

The wedding had taken place in the castle sept, and now everyone had gathered in the halls of Highgarden for the final day of the festivities. I observed Lady Aelire Hightower, now Tyrell, looking down happily, her joy mirrored by Mace Tyrell's contented expression.

It was then that Mace approached Rhaegar and requested him to play a song. Rhaegar acquiesced with a gracious nod and began to pluck the strings of his harp. As the haunting melody filled the air, I couldn't help but notice the effect it had on the gathered guests. Half the women present were moved to tears by the beauty of his music, enraptured by his skillful performance.

After everyone finished eating, Aerys called for the bedding ceremony, as was customary. Soon enough, I found myself in my chamber, and shortly after, I heard a knock on the door. Aerys entered, and I couldn't help but feel confused.

"Aerys, what are you doing here?" I asked, puzzled by his unexpected visit.

He chuckled softly. "I wished to speak with you, Rhaella," he replied, and to my surprise, I realized he wasn't as drunk as I had anticipated.

Curious, I inquired, "What is it, Aerys?" as he came to sit beside me, taking my hand in his.

"I know that you never wanted to marry me, and truth be told, neither did I," he confessed. "But here we are, and although we were never as close as husband and wife, I wanted to thank you for giving me three strong sons," he said earnestly, his gratitude evident.

"When I saw Rhaegar win the joust, I was filled with pride, Rhaella," he continued. "There was a time when I thought that only indulging in women and alcohol could bring me joy in life. But that feeling pales in comparison to the pride and love I feel when I see Rhaegar, Daemon, and Daeron," he admitted.

"Do you remember back in Dorne, the night Daeron was conceived?" he asked, his words bringing back memories of that uncertain time.

"Yes, I remember," I replied softly, recalling the anxiety I felt when rumors began to circulate about Daemon's parentage, and the relief I experienced when Tywin took care of it.

"I have to be honest with you, Rhaella," Aerys continued. "When Daeron was born, I had hoped for a daughter. After all, both my heir and spare are capable," he explained, revealing his inner thoughts.

"There will be letters coming from various houses asking for Rhaegar's hand in marriage, but I want someone with pure Valyrian blood to marry him, just like Aegon the Conqueror and his wives," he declared, his eyes gleaming with determination.

I understood what he meant. "Very well, Aerys," I acquiesced, realizing it was better to accept his decision than to oppose him.

"Thank you, Rhaella. I always knew that you were mindful of your duty," he said, expressing his gratitude.