Dynasty of the Dragon [Daemon & Rhaenyra]

SWATHED IN RED

𝔗𝔥𝔯𝔢𝔢

𝓈𝓌𝒶𝓉𝒽𝑒𝒹 𝒾𝓃 𝓇𝑒𝒹

╚══ ♟•°♛°•♟ ══╝

IF SHE MUST MARRY, she'd sooner marry for love. It was a naive thought for a naive girl. Rhaenyra had not been that girl in years. She felt bits of her come back up her throat when she watched Ser Cole upon his great horse. The tourney continued and parts she enjoyed, even as she observed Ser Cole unhorse her uncle. She had stood from her seat, remembering her cousin Rhaenys's words from the beginning.

"These knights are as green as summer grass. None have seen real war and their lords sent them here, to the tourney field with their fists full of steel. Their balls full of seed. It is of no surprise that they act with neither honour or grace," Rhaenys had said over the clanking of steel and the moans of the boy who had his guts ripped out.

It was a horrendous display that the people loved to be horrified by. She watched them turn their faces away, into their lover's arms, just to not see it. Yet, they always peeked through their hands, loving suffering that was not their own.

"Even that one?" Rhaenyra asked her cousin when the gallant knight Cole had thrown her uncle from his horse. Laena cringed with disgust at the earlier display as she had made it clear she did not want to attend. She had wanted to see Vhagar, to behold him, but Rhaenyra had been banned from Vhagar's back. She seemed relieved at the courtesy that Cole gave Daemon Targaryen, even if her uncle had slapped away his helping hand, looking ready to further a fight with the victor.

"Perhaps not all," Rhaenys said. "Perhaps steel can sprout from grass and shit." Rhaenys had been in a mood since Lord Boremund's request of her favour, lining his honeyed words with her formal title 'The Queen that Never Was'.

Rhaenyra laughed, but Alicent did not.

The near enjoyment was at an end when the servant entered the royal box. Rhaenyra had been in the middle of gifting Criston Cole with her favour, perhaps out of spite for Daemon daring to ask for Alicent's after unhorsing Gwayne Hightower so brutally in the second tilt. Alicent's hand had shaken when handing over her wreath, placing it on the same lance that had caused her brother to be carried away in mud and blood.

She had seen the worry upon her father's face, the whispers of a servant in his ear, and Rhaenyra had stood from her seat. The tourney continued, moving on and on without her as her father stood to leave.

"Rhaenyra," Alicent whispered, watching the princess stand, both looking away from the scene to celebrate the coming of a new prince. Rhaenyra had thought it a ridiculous waste for a child not yet pried from the womb. "It's not your place."

But Rhaenyra was already standing, ignoring the leers from the others in their private box, sequestered from the crowd. Rhaenys had arched a brow, silver hair in intricate, dragon's braids. Rhaenyra looked away from the Queen Who Never Was, her stare directed to the King Who Is and his retreating back.

"I decide my place," Rhaenyra said, hiking her skirts to follow after him. She had gotten steps past Laena's chair with her cousin watching her with an inquisitive eye that Rhaenyra ignored. She was steps past Rhaenys when Ser Harrold stopped her, standing in front of the door.

"Princess, it's not for your eyes," Harrold told her in a low and deep voice meant only for her ears. Rhaenyra's jaw clenched, bits of fire breathing life into her chest.

"Were you ordered to keep me out?" Rhaenyra asked, and his frown deepened. Sometimes, he looked upon her as if she were his child and not his princess. She straightened her back, daring him to think so little of her.