Sweet Sister

Chapter 28

~~~~~~~~unedited~~~~~~~~

"Rhae," Niclas calls softly, exhaustion clear in his voice.

The Targaryen spins in Devron's arms, a relived smile gracing her lips. She gets out of the boy's hold and wraps her arms around the aging man, tightly. "I'm glad you're still breathing, old man," she breathily teases, Niclas releasing a chuckle under his breath.

"You and me both, kid." He replies, pulling back and looks at Devron, who joins them. "Are ya good?"

Devron nods, pulling the man into a hug, too. "It's good that you're alive, Niclas."

The two pull away, Rhae's lips forming a warm smile at their interaction. "It's good to be alive, after that." Niclas replies, both Devron and Rhae releasing chuckles. "Alright, you two... we need to get to the Throne Room. That's where we'll be expected to arrive," Niclas informs, Rhae nodding in understanding.

Devron rests a hand on the small of her back, gently moving her to follow after Niclas before removing it once they start walking. Rhae rests a tired hand on the hilt of her sheathed sword, weaving between the victorious soldiers that chant. The walk through the Keep was fast, and Rhae's heart had started hammering in her chest when entering the castle.

She veers in the direction she last saw Sansa, ignoring Niclas and Devron's protesting calls. Rhae's agenda wasn't 'get to the Throne Room' anymore, not like Niclas and Devron.

"Sansa?!" Rhae's voice echos through the familiar corridor she turned on, body spinning in search for the Stark girl. "Sansa!"

"Rhae?!"

The girl spins, a relived smile spreading on her lips at the sight of the redhead. When they're in arms length, their arms wrap around one another, relief flooding both girls. "Thank the Gods," Rhae mutters into Sansa's shoulder.

"I thought you didn't believe in the Gods?" Sansa chuckles out under her breath, keeping her hold on the Targaryen.

"I don't, but it seemed fitting to say in this particular moment," she chuckles, finally pulling back.

Sansa's eyes widen at the girl, finally taking in her appearance; dry blood coats her face, a fresh cut laying on her cheek from a sword that continues to slowly leak blood, and the exhaustion etched on her face says it all.

"We won," Rhae breaks the ice, drawing Sansa's attention away from the blood that coats her.

Sansa smiles softly, "That means you can go home. To your sister, across the sea."

Rhae nods slowly, averting her eyes down to their feet, "Yeah, but..." she trails off, the Stark's brows knitting.

"But what?"

"I don't have a home, Sansa. I mean, maybe I did at one point, before being taken from her, but not anymore." She elaborates quietly, finally looking up to meet the redhead's eyes.

"That's a silly thing to say—"

"But it's true." Rhae cuts her softly, a soft sigh following.

She loves Daenerys and is overjoyed she's not dead, but the Dothraki made her feel like she was more than just some bastard to some fancy Throne across the sea. Titles didn't mean a thing to them, nor were bastards such a disgrace. They were just normal kids, one of the many things she envied with the Dothraki. She mattered to them, and once she found her way, she was loved by the most barbaric tribe known to man and the most feared Khal, who she misses dearly.