Chapter 76: Interlude: Rhaegar INotes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
"I shall teach you all the imaginary rules of magic, the limits and laws that govern our world. And then, I'll teach you all how to break them."
-Headmistress Daenys Fyre speaking to the inaugural class of the Dragonstone Academy of Sorcery
112 AC, Aenar's Vault
Dragonstone castle hadn't really been used by the Prince of Dragonstone. Nyra preferred living in the Red Keep, as it allowed her to keep a closer finger on the pulse of Westeros while also being the far more comfortable castle. Still, it was hardly unknown for the Prince to vanish for days on end to her personal fortress.
Speculation abounded about what truly went on within the indestructible walls of Dragonstone, every rumour wilder than the last, but the truth was horridly mundane. Nyra would stay up late reading and sleep in until lunchtime. She'd jog around the battlements and spar with the knights in the training yard. She'd spend hours on end playing board games with the Dragonseeds she'd brought to the castle and experiment in the kitchen, producing amazing food that she always insisted on sharing.
It soon became apparent that Nyra's retreats to Dragonstone was simply for the purposes of rest and relaxation away from any authority figures. Somewhere she could let down her hair and be herself in private.
The disappointment that the rumours of illicit lovers and depraved sorcerous experiments weren't true was practically a physical thing in King's Landing.
If only the masses knew. Rhaegar thought as the three dragons, each once the mount of queen, landed gently in the shallows surrounding the island. Nothing scandalous went on inside Dragonstone Castle, but outside it?
Rhaegar had seen Nyra and Laena locked in a torrid embrace more than once before, through the eyes of various animals. The two girls kissing passionately in deserted parts of the Dragonstone countryside, hands roving over each other's bodies, hair dishevelled and clothes askew. Those weren't the kissing games that girls sometimes played with each other, but the genuine act between lovers.
Those were the illicit lovers. These, were the depraved sorcerous experiments.
Aenar's Vault had been repurposed by Rhaenyra as a laboratory of sorts. Now that all of the treasures had been extracted and were locked deep in the bowels of Dragonstone Castle, the vault was far more spacious, allowing for Rhaenyra to conduct her experiments in complete secrecy and privacy.
But that wasn't enough for the viciously-paranoid Prince, whom, dissatisfied with the already-existing security measures of an obscure locale, indestructible dragonstone walls and a door locked by both a bloodline lock and a physical key, had added even more security on top of that.
A dozen obelisks stood tall around the perimeter of the island, covered with Valyrian glyphs. Made from basalt taken from the bowels of the Dragonmont, and carved into shape by Nyra's impossibly precise severing spells, they were the wardstones anchoring the single most relentless privacy ward Rhaegar had ever seen.
So thorough was the privacy ward that sailors would unconsciously move their ships away from the island, birds flew around instead of over the island, and nothing, not even flies, could sneak in without the Prince of Dragonstone's permission.
Thankfully, both Rhaegar and Daenys were not only on the guest list, but in fact, they were the ones whom had helped the Crown Prince raise the wards in the first place, which meant that they could pass through the basalt monoliths unhindered.
Powering such a thorough and power-intensive ward would have normally have required a dragon to live full-time over Aenar's Vault, but ever-resourceful Rhaenyra had found herself a workaround; three Fyrewood trees, the only ones of their kind outside the Black Walls of Volantis.
Fyrewood trees were a wonder of genetic modification. The type of plant whom scientists on Nyra's old world Earth would have eaten their firstborn to analyse.
Every single inch of the plant had been optimised for maximum efficiency. Increases in growth speed aside, the leaves were pitch-black, such that all light that fell on them was absorbed without reflection. Carbon nanotubes grew within the grain of the wood, giving it unparalleled strength. The roots held a sophisticated reverse osmosis filtration system that allowed the trees to quite literally rip purified water out of even the ocean.
The plant did not transpire, with the water and carbon dioxide produced by respiration instead going through a recycling system that allowed them to indefinitely reuse them for photosynthesis. The red colour of the wood was due to a combination of the special wax it secreted and the toxins within it. The wax was fire-retardant and while the toxin was harmless to humans and most larger animals, it killed any vermin or bacteria whom attempted to feed on it, preventing rot.
The leaves didn't fall of the trees, as far as Rhaegar could tell. Neither wind nor age or even winter seemed to affect them. The largest branches all had redundant systems that allowed cuttings to produce roots of their own far quicker than nature allowed, allowing for rapid planting of the trees.
These many redundant systems, combined with the potent dragon dung used for fertiliser meant that the once-saplings planted seven years ago, when Aenar's Vault was first opened, had already grown to the size of old and great oak trees, towering high above the people whom had planted them in the first place.
But more importantly than all of those, was the fact that the trees released magic. Not as much as dragons, but enough that three of them working in concert were more than enough to power even Rhaenyra's ridiculously paranoid privacy wards.
And speaking of the Prince of Dragonstone, she'd remained completely silent until the four of them stood under the pitch-black canopy.
"I'm sure you're all wondering why I've brought you all here today." She solemnly said.
"It's not the first time this has happened, but the amount of secrecy most certainly is." Daenys noted. "Have you ever hidden our movements so thoroughly as today?"
That was one way of putting it. As they spoke, body doubles back in King's Landing were pretending that apart from Laena—whom was supposedly running a routine dragon flight— the three best mages of House Targaryen were currently attending an event with most of the Small Council in the capital city, where the Royal Fleet was demonstrating a new weapon before the Lords and Ladies of the Seven Kingdoms; A series of pressurised spigots and pumps that allowed wildfire to be spewed in a jet, immolating enemy vessels in a blaze of green hellfire.
The mechanics of the machine were Master of Engineering Mellos' invention, but the wildfire recipe was Rhaegar's own. Three Wisdoms had gone blind and six more gone deaf during the testing, but the alchemical scrolls in Aenar's Vault had proven decisive. The new wildfire recipe was only marginally weaker than the old version, but at least ten times more stable, making it a far more deadly tool of war.
Rhaegar himself had been slated to give a speech praising the Alchemist's Guild at the event, and in a way, he still would. His speech had been pre-recorded by glass candle, and Rhaegar's decoy—Shaeterys under illusion— would pretend to give the speech before the crowd.
"No, I don't think so." Laena muttered. "The Prince of the Seven Kingdoms has the right to go anywhere they please."
"Well, this is top secret." Nyra replied. "If any news of what we are up to here gets out, I might be facing a skinchanger rebellion up north."
"That bad?" Rhaegar asked, morbidly curious. "I already possess people, and that's like the worst of the Three Skinchanger Laws."
"This goes a bit beyond that." Nyra gravely declared. "What we attempt here today will reverberate beyond our lifetimes. Once we perform these experiments, there can be no going back."
A shiver passed through the cousins of the Prince, neither thrill nor fear and yet both at the same time.
"I'll ask you one last time." The greatest sorcerer on Westeros looked straight into the eyes of the second and third best sorcerers on Westeros. "Will you follow me down this path?"
Daenys fell to one knee, immediately and unhesitatingly, without even the smallest speck of doubt or fear in her pink eyes.
"My life is and always will be yours to command, Rhae." Daenys Fyre vowed, filled with so much conviction it was nearly a physical thing. "I shall serve you always. And if I must follow you down to the depths of Hell or up to the gates of Heaven, then so be it."
It was times like this that Rhaegar almost missed Daisy Stone. His sister used to be so timid and pious. She was shy and never spoke unless spoken to, shrinking in on herself and hiding from the eyes of everyone else.
Now though, she was confident and firm. She held her head high as she walked, straight-backed though the Red Keep, unafraid to speak up or voice her opinion. Daenys was no Rhaenyra, or even Daena, but there was a certain allure to her now. It was a quiet thing, but people fell silent when she spoke, turning to face her as she commanded their attention. She was no longer a downtrodden girl whom cowered behind her big brother, but a strong maiden in her own right.
It was a change for the better, Rhaegar decided. But he couldn't help but worry at his sister's declaration of allegiance. There was loyalty, and there was fanaticism. Daisy could have told the difference between them. But Prince Daemon's fourthborn couldn't help but worry that Daenys couldn't.
Still…
"I too agree." Rhaegar reluctantly nodded. "We shall proceed with this experiment of yours."
It was best he come along. Keep one hand on the reins. Nyra wasn't as smart or infallible as she liked to think she was, and sooner or later, she'd miscalculate. Rhaegar was only there to keep Rhaenyra from dragging Daenys down with her.
"Thank you." Nyra smiled, and somehow Rhaegar knew it was genuine. "Truly, thank you. This means a lot to me."
"So what sort of devilish research do you intend today?" Laena asked. "I'm genuinely drawing blanks here."
Nyra took in a deep breath and let it all out in a calming sigh.
"Rhaegar, you're the best skinchanger I know this side of the Wall." The Prince of Dragonstone stated, turning to face him. "Kindly tell me the things a skinchanger cannot do."
"Possess a mentally sound human. Possess a dragon. And teach the skill to a non-skinchanger." Rhaegar immediately recited. These weren't laws like the first three, meant more as a moral guide and compass. These were things that was physically impossible for a skinchanger to perform, and not for lack of trying.
Human possession was possible, of course, but the host would fight tooth and nail to resist possession. There were ways around it of course, and Rhaegar knew every single one of them. But without the necessary preparations, human possession wasn't going to end well.
The only way to possess a mentally-sound human, without anything to dull the host's mind, was to break the will of the host. Irreparably. Render them unable to fight back in any meaningful manner while the skinchanger rode the possessed body. Which itself was a chancy gambit. The backlash would be nasty, even for a skinchanger.
Rhaegar had heard horror stories about such acts from the oldest Free Folk skinchangers. Men reduced to babbling lackwits after a skinchanger had broken into their minds, or hosts tearing out their own eyes and maiming themselves as they entered seizures in their desperate attempts to fight off possession. Even skinchangers, driven to insanity, seeing other men as foreign to themselves as they were to wolves.
As for dragon possession… well…
Rhaegar hadn't been there, when the Free Folk knelt. He'd been with Lord Commander Westerling down in the Stormlands at the time, but Daenys had filled him in. In more ways than one, for she was second only to Shaera when it came to memory magic.
During the peace talks, a couple of the skinchangers, blinded by greed, had attempted to seize control of the dragons brought by Nyra's entourage. None had survived the experience.
Well, they were still alive at the end of it, but they were driven mad, clawing at their eyes and biting their tongue, with those that they had managed to stop screaming in agony babbling about Fire and Blood. None had survived the night, having taken their own lives in the throes of madness and agony.
That, more than anything, had convinced the Free Folk to kneel.
"We kneel before no king or perfumed lordling." One chieftain had said, pointing at Vhagar. "We kneel before a god."
That man had been a particularly egregious example of the breed, but he wasn't wrong. The Free Folk colloquially called the Prince of Dragonstone the Magnar, and by their language and culture, that basically meant that they considered Nyra half a god. Which was honestly one of the main reasons why the Free Folk had been on their best behaviour ever since.
Kings were little more than men with a fancy title. Underneath all the silks and gilding, they were just men, like any other on the street. The Free Folk knew that, more than most people.
But when anyone challenged Nyra's authority to rule, Silverwing would remind them exactly why they knelt before her. And to the Free Folk, that was proof beyond proof that she—and by extension the rest of the Valyrians—was essentially a god, for whom else could ride a dragon?
As for the last…
"Do you want me to attempt to teach you how to skinchange again?" Rhaegar dryly asked. "I believe you yourself said that there was a bloodline restriction on the subject."
"Not today." Nyra waved away. "That's not the rule I want you to challenge today."
"I'm not possessing a dragon." Rhaegar flat-out refused. "If I'd claimed one first… then maybe. But I'm not going to attempt it on Silverwing, Vhagar or Dreamfyre."
"That's not the rule I want you to challenge either." Nyra glumly said, and Rhaegar felt as though a void had opened beneath his feet. His stomach sank and his breathing quickened as he realised the implications of her statement.
"You want me to try possess a person." Rhaegar hoarsely said. "And not some disposable person, but one of us here."
The refusal was right on the tip of his tongue when Nyra raised a finger, silencing him.
"I've got a hypothesis on that, one which I'd like you to hear out before you refuse me." The Prince of Dragonstone quickly said.
The Dragonseed reluctantly grunted in a 'get on with it' manner.
"We all know what happens when a skinchanger attempts to possess an unwilling human host." The Dragonqueen gravely said.
"Insanity, pain, seizures, death." Laena helpfully added, grinning unrepentantly.
"So what happens then, if a skinchanger attempts to possess a willing human host?" The greatest sorcerer in Westeros asked, continuing on as though she didn't hear Laena.
Silence reigned in the wake of that statement, the three of them contemplating her words.
Madness. Rhaegar thought. And yet…
"I genuinely don't know." Daenys replied.
"My thoughts exactly." Rhaegar agreed. "I don't think anyone has tried it yet."
"Then let's try it now." Nyra announced, stepping forwards. She placed Dark Sister and her chain onto a nearby table, her dagger joining it shortly. She reached into the pockets of her clothes, removing another three smaller blades, a pair of glass candles and a moneybag clinking with gold.
Now divested of all metal items that may hurt herself, the Prince of Dragonstone turned to face Rhaegar.
"I shall not fight or resist your possession." She declared. "I am ready."
"Rhae, don't." Laena protested. "You don't know what will happen if—"
"The glass candles I've placed on the table each have a full backup of my memories." Rhaenyra rebuffed. "Should anything go wrong, Daenys, you reinstall them into my mind."
"No." Daenys refused, and the sound of it was like the crack of the whip.
Utter silence was left in the wake of that announcement, only broken by the faint lapping of the ways and the rustling of the Fyrewood leaves.
"No?" Rhaenyra repeated, bafflement in her tone.
Rhaegar couldn't help but agree. Daenys was the single most loyal Dragonseed in existence. Beyond even Daena or Bell. She'd jump off a tower without second thought if the Prince of Dragonstone ordered it so. To refuse such a request, especially one that would save the Dragonqueen's life, was as impossible as the sky falling.
"No." Daenys refused once again. "I will not allow you to do such a reckless experiment, Rhae!"
"But—"
"You're the Prince of Dragonstone! Heiress to the Iron Throne! I will not let you just throw away your life to prove some arcane theory!" Daenys shouted, and Rhaegar couldn't help but take a step back from the volume and vitriol in the tone. Even Rhaenyra, eloquent, witty and silver-tongued Rhaenyra seemed stunned into baffled silence by Daenys.
Rhaegar's younger sister immediately stomped over to the table. Her own chain, knives and glass candle landed on it, right beside Nyra's own equipment.
"Let someone more expendable take your place." Daenys declared, looking Rhaegar straight in the eyes.
It took a Herculean amount of effort for Rhaegar not to recoil, at the sheer fire burning within his sister's pink eyes.
"Don't!" Rhaegar managed to get out. "I won't do it."
"Yes, you will, brother. Yes you will." Daenys Fyre declared, before her features softened, and a smile Rhaegar hadn't seen for years made its way onto her face.
"I have absolute faith in you." Daisy Stone smiled beatifically, and to Rhaegar it was as radiant as the sun.
The world seemed to fall away around them, leaving behind only Daenys and Rhaegar. The two siblings gazed at each other, grey eyes peering into pink. Locked into a fierce battle of wills.
Nyra and Laena were speaking, but it was muffled, as though both half-Royce siblings were underwater. Even time seemed to have bent it's knee, awaiting his decision.
And then, slowly, gently, reluctantly, Rhaegar gave his sister a small nod. He never could resist her.
It felt like a violation, like he was doing something horribly immoral and wrong. Guilt pooled within Rhaegar, as he couldn't help but feel like he was about to corrupt his sister. To do something irreversible and horrible to her. Like he was about to taint her purity. Invade her sanctity. Ruin her forevermore.
Even raping her, he felt, would have been a lesser sin than what he was about to do.
Rhaegar closed his eyes, and willed himself to enter. He found the door and placed a delicate hand on the doorknob. The door was locked, of course, but that didn't mean Rhaegar couldn't gain entry anyway. This was far from Rhaegar's first time possessing a human.
The lock could be picked, or the door forced, when the inhabitant was otherwise indisposed. Previously, he'd used potions, poisons and hard liquor to send the mind into a deep slumber, allowing him to enter unopposed, but this time was different.
Daenys wasn't some noble the Crown Prince wanted to murder or some servant she wanted to frame.
Daenys was Rhaegar's sister, for lack of a better word.
After all, what word could truly encapsulate even a tenth of what Daenys meant to Rhaegar? The Dragonseed might as well have tried to measure the worth of the blood in his veins or the breath in his lungs. Daenys was everything to him. To the point where Rhaegar genuinely couldn't tell where he ended and she began.
As such, instead of breaking and entering like he usually would, Rhaegar knocked gently on the door, requesting entry. And Daenys opened the door.
———
Rhaegar gasped, opening eyes that weren't his own. He flexed his sister's slender fingers, feeling her soft palms and delicate skin. He'd never realised just how small they were. The delicateness made him feel like if he mishandled the body even the slightest bit, it would break into a thousand beautiful pieces.
It was a foreign sensation. Daenys thought. Her hands moved without her direction. Her eyes roamed without her control. It felt like some great bird had perched on her shoulders. Ethereal strings connecting it to her limbs, like a puppet dangling from a marionette.
Rhaegar twitched at that. He could hear his sister's very thoughts. No… hear was the wrong word. He could feel them. Like dipping his hand into a river and feeling the current. He could feel the very moment they blossomed in her mind. Running his hands down them to know their contents.
A shining galaxy. Comets streaking across the nebulous void as the suns and stars twinkled like a heartbeat. It was alien and yet familiar. Beautiful and yet a horror. It was Rhaegar's soul, Daenys grasped. Seated right beside her in the saddle. Hands on the reins that led to her body.
Ah, Rhaegar realised, turning his head to peer at his sister. Her soul shone like a constellation in the night sky. A beautiful tapestry of memories, dreams, wishes, feelings and the countless other things that made Daenys Fyre into whom she was.
This wasn't the first time the skinchanger had gazed at a soul. He'd possessed many animals in the past. Some of whom—like Maester, the frumpy old cat back at Ser Robert's fort— were stubborn beasts. Not controlled so much as guided in the right direction. He'd seen their souls then, but they were but a candle to the bonfire that was Daenys. There was just so much more of her, in both quality and quantity.
Even when he'd possessed other humans, Rhaegar had never seen such a sight.
When in deep dreamless sleep, the soul hadn't shone. Few, if any, lights illuminated them. They'd been as a misty and murky fog. Looming deep in the bottom of the mind. Inert and unreactive. Too deep for Rhaegar to touch.
"Rhaegar, Daenys?" Rhaenyra asked conceredly. "Can either of you hear me?"
"Yes." Both replied. The words came out of the body's throat garbled. Both siblings had tugged on the same reins at the slightly different times, causing a disconnect. The command sent to the throat was scrambled and malformed.
Rhaegar removed his hands from the reins, and subtly nudged his sister.
"Yes Rhae." Daenys spoke. "We can both hear you."
"How does it feel? Any issues?"
"It's… strange." Daenys decided. "Neither of us are truly in control. I can feel Rhaegar right beside me. I can move, so long as he doesn't give contradicting instructions."
"No kidding." Laena muttered. "Take a look at your eyes."
"Our eyes?" Both of them attempted to say at the same time, but Nyra must've understood their garbled speech, for she conjured up a reflection spell for them to observe.
Daenys' left eye was still her usual pink. However, her right eye was now Rhaegar's Royce-grey.
"I've possessed animals before." Rhaegar muttered, raising a hand to touch the grey eye. "Humans too. I've never seen anything like this before."
"Well, I guess it'll be easy to tell when you're both in there." Nyra shrugged. "We've got bigger questions than cosmetics anyway."
"Yeah, like what do I refer to the two of you as? Rhaenys? No, that's my mother." Laena paused. "Daegar?"
There was a beat of silence, and all three of the best sorcerers in House Targaryen wordlessly decided to ignore their second cousin.
Rhaegar signalled that he wanted to speak, and Daenys withdrew, allowing him control.
"Rhaegar here." Rhaegar informed the Prince of Dragonstone. "I feel the same way. I've possessed wilful animals in the past, and this is little different. Both Daenys' and I hold the reins, and we can both tug them."
"But you both feel alright?" Their cousin pressed. "No issues to report? Any pain or discomfort?"
The siblings communed for a while. No words had to be spoken, Rhaegar realised. Not when both of them could simply transmit their exact thoughts to each other.
"Discomfort is the wrong word." Rhaegar replied. "It feels weird, yes. But not exactly uncomfortable per se. We can adapt to this, given time."
"Noted." Rhaenyra replied, scribbling on a clipboard. "Now, let us do some experiments, shall we?"
———
The testing revealed some very interesting details about their shared state.
First and foremost, the reins weren't mutually exclusive. Both of them could tug on the reins at once. Which meant that left-handed Daenys could write an essay in High Valyrian with one hand even as right-handed Rhaegar did mathematical sums with the other. So long as neither of them were actively competing for the same part of the body, both of them could operate at once.
Second, their focus was split. Daenys could read and understand a complicated thesis even as Rhaegar carried on a conversation with Laena. Neither of which were impaired to any noticeable degree.
Third, their skills were amalgamated to a certain degree. Daenys didn't know much about swordplay, while Rhaegar was a deft hand with a blade. And despite possessing a foreign body, Rhaegar's movements were crisp and precise. The body had belonged to Daenys, and her control over it had left deep marks in their shared subconscious, enabling Rhaegar to piggyback of her muscle memory in order to duel with surprising competence.
"And now, for the moment of truth." Rhaenyra declared. "Can either of you cast magic in your shared state?"
Daenys snapped her fingers, generating a flickering flame on her fingertips.
"I… I have more mana." Daenys gasped. "Most of my brother's reserves came with him. Near all, in fact"
Yes, Rhaegar could feel it now. He'd never realised it at the time, but now that Daenys had spent mana to cast a spell, he could felt his own ebb and flow in response to hers. It felt strange. Their mana pools were no longer divided, but shared now. While there were caveats and limitations that Rhaegar could only dimly feel, like a drunk groping for a bottle in the dark, both of them could draw on this larger well for power.
Rhaegar frowned and crafted the spell formula, raising Daenys' other hand and generating a small vortex of spiralling air.
He gasped as he felt it form, more efficient and precise than he'd previously thought possible. Had Daenys subconsciously edited the formula before the execution step? Polished and refined it up to her usual high standard? Or was sorcery like their body control? A skill that belonged to Daenys that Rhaegar could borrow to improve one of his own?
Ah, was it the bleedover effect? It was well documented among the Free Folk. Spend too long in the body of a bird, and one would constantly crave the sky. Or spend to long in the body of horses and deer, and one find their own courage diminished and replaced with the instincts of a prey animal.
The possibilities were endless. Skinchanging was a vast and uncharted new frontier that they were just barely scratching the surface of. It would take generations upon generations of research and experimentation before they'd even uncover anything more than the barest sliver of it's mysteries.
"Daenys, try to skinchange into my body." Rhaegar spoke aloud, to inform both his sister and cousin at once. "Piggyback off my skill. You should be able to do it now."
The amorphous mass of stars and nebulae that was Daenys pulsated and shuddered. Rhaegar felt it's tendrils brush against him. Running a hand down the outer edges of a soul. Like a tailor getting a feel of the cloth before working. Rhaegar shuddered slightly at that. It wasn't an uncomfortable sensation, merely strange. It felt like he was being touched in places he didn't even know existed.
"I'm trying now." Daenys reported aloud.
As soon as she said the words, her soul distorted. A long and thin thread shot straight out of the nebula. Like an arrow in flight, it shot across the deserted countryside, impacting Rhaegar's body right in the forehead. Then, as sudden as a match lit, Daenys vanished.
No. There was still some of her left in the body with Rhaegar. A paltry remnant, dim and inert. But a shining firmament connected this remnant to the greater mass in Rhaegar's body.
It was an anchor, the Dragonseed grasped. What allowed a skinchanger to always return to their own body, no matter how far they ventured.
No, Rhaegar corrected. Skinchanging had a range limitation. And he was seeing it firsthand, in the gleaming thread of soul joining the two portions of Daenys' soul. After a certain distance, it'd snap taut, and the skinchanger would be forcibly yanked back into their body, for the soul was an inviolable construct. It could be stretched but not divided. Or at least, not divided so easily.
"This feels strange." Daenys spoke from Rhaegar's mouth. She stood up, looking down at the hands as she flexed his fingers. "You're still in here, you know? Just asleep."
"Indeed." Rhaegar replied from Daenys' mouth. "I can say the same here."
"Fascinating." Rhae gasped. "Rhaegar, can you possibly force Daenys out of your body? While still in hers?"
Rhaegar groped around, like a man trying to find a bug bite on his back, eventually finding the long thread connecting his soul. He tried to send commands through it, back to the anchor in his body, but nothing happened. It felt like the piece of him within his original body was deadened by sleep. Unable to move or resist in any meaningful manner.
Instead, Rhaegar reached out and found Daenys' own soul-thread. He gripped onto it firmly, yet gently, and tugged on it.
"I felt something." Daenys reported. "Try that again."
With his sister's consent, Rhaegar tugged on the soul-thread again. Gripping it within his hands and spooling it back in. It felt like an eel. Slippery and slick, constantly fighting to wriggle out of his grasp. But eventually, the string went taut, and with one last firm tug, Rhaegar yanked Daenys out of his body, her soul spooling back into one cohesive whole within her body.
Rhaegar's body went limp, and toppled towards the ground, but Rhae swiftly caught him before he could fall.
"It is done?" The Prince asked.
"Yes. While I couldn't push Daenys out, I could pull her back." Rhaegar answered.
"It felt like he was tugging on my tail." Daenys added. "Which was extremely weird, considering that I don't actually have a tail."
"I'll expect more detailed reports on the subject, but otherwise, good work the both of you." Rhaenyra praised, a smile on her face.
Rhaegar nodded, but Daenys suddenly requested right to speak, and Rhaegar gave it to her.
"Rhae, before we finish this experiment, I want to try one last thing." Daenys spoke up.
"Which is?"
"A mages' duel." Daenys declared.
There was a beat of silence as all of them considered Daenys' words.
"Hey Daenys! What are you thinking?" Rhaegar demanded. "We've duelled Rhaenyra before. And every single time, she destroyed us. Crushed us underfoot with ease. Even fighting her three-on-one didn't work. What makes you think the two of us can succeed now?"
"Yes, alone we lost. But together? As one unified gestalt? I think the result will be different this time." Daenys responded.
"Ooh! Rhaenyra versus Daegar!" Laena enthused. "This is gonna be the throwdown of the century!"
The Velaryon scion turned to face Rhae.
"Come on Rhae, please agree to this." She wheedled.
"Are you sure?" Rhaenyra tentatively asked. "I don't want to accidentally go overboard."
Daenys turned to face her brother, and Rhaegar saw his sister's soul laid bare. He felt her determination. Her desire to surpass Rhaenyra. Her drive to succeed. Her valour. Her grit. A thousand and one feelings, each and every one a shining star in the galaxy that was Daenys' soul. All blazing defiantly against the blackness of space. Weaving together a constellation of stubborn hard-earned pride. One that spelled out the message that was at the heart of every single student that ever lived: "I want my teacher to look at me and feel pride. Pride that the apprentice has finally surpassed the master."
And looking at that burning wish, shining brighter than the sun, Rhaegar could say only one thing.
"Yes. We are sure." Daenys' older brother agreed, and that was that.
The two of them moved to opposite ends of the warded clearing. Rhaenyra at the western end, Daenys and Rhaegar at the eastern end, Laena standing to the side.
"Begin!" Laena whooped, bringing down her hand.
As one, all three of the best mages in House Targaryen immediately began casting. Power drawn from dragons was shaped and unleashed, with no quarter or holds barred. A deadly dance of power and madness, where every stroke was a killing one.
Rhaegar and Daenys fought with all that they had. Wordlessly communicating tactics in an instant. Pooling together everything that they had. Power, skill, tricks.
And still it wasn't enough. Rhaenyra bore knowledge from a thousand years in the future. She'd learned too many tricks. Too many outs.
Daenys flung fireballs the size of houses at Rhaenyra, whom ripped the oxygen out of the air, sending nitrogen and carbon dioxide in, smothering the flames.
Rhaegar threw seawater in a wave, but the Crown Prince froze the water before it could knock her over.
Daenys shaped kinetic force at the Prince of Dragonstone, a battering ram capable of knocking down an entire city block. Rhaenyra combined acceleration spells with physical enhancements, dodging the blow.
Rhaegar telekinetically tossed a spreadshot of rocks, but Nyra shattered them all into dust with a sound wave.
Daenys trapped Rhaenyra in a ward, but the Prince of Dragonstone contemptuously ripped it to pieces before shaping the fragments into blades that she used to shred the flock of birds Rhaegar possessed.
The siblings were forced to give ground, often and frequently, as the best mage on the continent methodically cornered them.
Eventually, Rhaegar slipped up. He'd been in charge of defending, of moving his sister's body around while she unleashed her most potent curses at their opponent. Gravity had come from above, a hammer blow of force more than enough to reduce them to mash, and while Rhaegar was able to withstand the blow using shielding spells, Rhaenyra had shaped a bolt of lightning. An arc of electricity that lanced out of her hand and struck them in the chest before they could defend.
Down Daenys went, twitching and spasming this way and that, kept alive only because of the copious amount of protective spells and amulets she wore.
His sister still had a lot of fight left in her, but this appeared to be their end. Her body was down and out for the count. She couldn't even get to her feet.
This battle isn't over yet! We can still fight.
Rhaegar idly considered returning to his own body, but dismissed it immediately out of hand. Even if the two of them could transfer over at the same time—which was another thing they hadn't tested—Rhaenyra had already proven that she could beat even their conjoined form.
Then we do not go to your body.
Rhaegar felt Daenys point a nonexistent finger, and grinned.
———
"Rhaegar, Daenys, you alright?" Rhaenyra concernedly asked, healing spells glowing in her hands.
They let her heal Daenys' body, partially because of the needs to acclimate to their new host. Satisfied at their union, Daenys shaped a spell, intending on shooting the Prince in the back, but unfortunately Rhaenyra must have been watching out for sneak attacks, for she easily dodged the severing curse.
Still, Dark Sister came down in a glittering arc, and would have bifurcated the Crown Prince had she not immediately cast acceleration spells to dodge.
"Oh." Rhaenyra grinned, looking at the three of them. "So you can jointly possess another person."
"Yup." Laena agreed, twirling Queen Visenya's blade idly in her hand. She'd snatched it off the table, where the weapons of Daenys and Rhaenyra still lay.
"We stand as one." Daenys agreed, speaking through the Velaryon scions' mouth.
"Two-on-one, you may win." Rhaegar nodded, taking over the reins. "But three-on-one?"
"Well let's put that to the test, shall we?" Rhaenyra smiled, unleashing sorcery.
Laena's body was far better than Daenys'. Nineteen-years-old, Laena was not only taller and fitter than the admittedly petite Daenys, but faster and stronger to boot. With the Velaryon scion handling movement, Rhaegar was free to alternate between offence and defence, depending on the situation.
Together, slowly but surely, they forced her back.
The tide had turned now, for though Rhaenyra could and would beat them individually—even three-on-one—their whole was more than the sum of their parts. Laena's physical fitness. Rhaegar's intelligent mind. Daenys' magical talent. All combined into a person whom could think thrice as fast as anyone else.
Curses that the siblings had previously been forced to dodge were met head-on and broken. Defences individually insurmountable were torn down by their combined efforts. Secrets and tricks were teased out, analysed and countered with cold efficiency.
Before long Rhaenyra was forced to spend as much time defending as attacking, and a bare minute later she was forced purely on the defensive, unable to even counterattack in any meaningful manner.
And so, it ended. Before five minutes had passed. And though bruised, battered and exhausted, they had triumphed. Dark Sister a bare inch away from Rhaenyra's jugular, as Laena's boot ground on her lover's chest.
The best mage on the continent had been beaten.
This was. Rhaegar couldn't help but think. The future of magic.
Notes:
Rhaegar is one of those characters whom I've consistently struggled to write. I was never satisfied whenever I wrote an interlude about him, and often wound up scrapping them halfway. Case in point; this chapter is cobbled together from about 5 or so older drafts. The oldest of which dated all the way back to 13 May 2021. A bare month after I began writing this fic.
Man it's been a while.