❝ If there was ever two people who deserved a happy ending, it would have been us. ❞
The Fates were against Malkym Thorne and Rhaenrya Targaryen from the start. No matter what decisions they made, or paths they took, it all lead to the same end. But...
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{ Rhaenyra }
✧✦✧
𝕽haenyra believed herself to be a patient woman. It took a lot to get her annoyed. But now, she was in pain, her body ached and she was being made to sit through the most mind numbing Small Council meeting in existence.
If Malkym had been by her side then perhaps this would have been acceptable, but he was with their boys and she was alone. Alicent refused to have the man in here, especially after Malkym had beaten Ser Criston into unconsciousness. He had not been forced to apologise, for most were well aware of the animosity between the two.
"...and put their horses to graze in his field." Rhaenyra let her head fall against the back of her chair, trying to soothe the aching of her breasts. Childbirth was truly not kind to women. She wished to be back in Alterwoode, where she was surrounded by her true family in her comfortable bed and with none of these useless meetings that they ignored her through.
"Why was this issue not brought before Lord Grover?" Alicent also seemed bored, so that was comforting. "Has he grown so feeble he can not settle a quarrel over rocks?"
"I've heard tale that Lord Grover's son now rules Riverrun and all its names."
"Well, he's also a Tully." Rhaenyra was so fed up with all of this. She wanted to go back to her chambers and sleep or find her husband and her children. "This remains a Tully problem."
"I would agree." Her father smiled at his wife, causing Rhaenyra to roll her eyes further.
"If we may move on..." Rhaenyra had enough.
"And yet, the Brackens and the Blackwoods will use any excuse to spill each other's blood. So, this dispute bares looking into." She rolled the pearl around ahead of her, admiring it before turning to her father. "There will be country folk who know where the lines have been drawn for generations."
"That is easy enough." Alicent scoffed.
"Ser Tylan, we should address the latest developments in the Stepstones war."
"I thought we were shot of the bastard place." Her father looked tired, like a corpse about to keel over. Rhaenyra huffed, trying not to think on it.
"Personally, I think the Blackwell's have the upper hand."
"We've moved onto the stepstones, Lord Beesbury."
"And the triarchy's new alliance with Dorne." Rhaenyra forced down a grin, watching Lord Beesbury. He was growing old, forgetting things much quicker but he was easily one of the kinder people in this Small Council.
