Among Lions and Wolves • |Book 1|

.chapter twenty-one.

She inhaled a deep, soothing breath, her chest rising and falling with every breath. The sweet salty air filled her lungs, the crashing of waves and singing of seabirds filling her ears with a beautiful song. She lounged on a sofa she'd asked for many years ago when she had been a child and enjoyed all her days out in the sweet summer sun.

Fingers gliding over the silky copper coat of her lioness, purring beside her. On her belly lain a fox kit, a nameless creature found by Tyrion Lannister on his journey back from the north.

Rhaella welcomed the imp's return. With him as hand, Joffrey no longer demanded she be his wife, only begged. It was all unusual to the young woman. She had only one man falling over himself for her hand before, and now she had more, though Robb had once been her betrothed, he was no more.

He had led a rebellion against the crown and for that, Tywin had declared there to be no wedding and had taken most of his anger out on the field. Upon the news of being the hand in Tywin's stead, he brought along news that Tywin was not pleased with the queen mother.

"She brought you back when she was instructed to leave you," Tyrion informed her the night he brought her the kit. "I told her it was not a wise decision, by then you seemed to have enjoyed Winterfell and would not hate it too much. But you know how my sister is."

"And now a rebellion had started, Joffrey is king and he is demanding I be his queen. Oh Uncle, please do something." She had pleaded, a soft look in her usually icy cold eyes.

"I intend to," the imp replied, his warm smile bringing one to her own lips.

And in those days since his return, he had tamed the deranged king as best as a master could its lion, or in her case, a lioness.

Zena was still pretty wild, not nearly as wild as Joffrey, and was now kept confined to a cell with men stronger than she to handle her. Joffrey had ordered for her death plenty of times, but using the love he bore her, Rhaella always managed to persuade him. 

And that was another weird thing, Joffrey loved her. A boy she'd known since he was a babe, one she viewed as a brother and despised most of their lives, had fallen in love with her.

Cersei hated it just as much as Rhaella had, perhaps even more. Rhaella could control Joffrey to an extent, while the queen mother no longer had control.

"There was once a time when I would have been pleased to see him in love with you," she told Rhaella one midday when she had been sitting in the garden, enjoying the sun. She spent most of her days enjoying the sun, after all, winter was coming.

"It disgusts me," she had admitted to her ward's daughter. "I view him as nothing more than an irritating brother. I do not wish to marry him, nor do I wish to be placed upon the Iron Throne. I wish to return to Winterfell and to have all the Starks home again. I miss them, Lord Stark, Arya, Robb, and Jon. I miss them dearly."

She had grown brutally honest with Cersei, Rhaella had sought out the lioness and revealed everything. Cersei had appeared stunned by her honesty and even more shocked that she had underestimated Rhaella. An honest enemy was the worst kind any could have, they were far more dangerous. They feared nothing, not even death.

But what had prompted Rhaella's sudden change? A girl once so sweet and obedient, a girl who used to radiant pure innocence and warmth now only left those in her company cold, and she almost always kept her distance. She could, however, be found basking in the sun with her cub full grown and sleeping by her side, or she could be found in her chambers, reading whatever book Tyrion brought to her because he thought she'd find it interesting.

He mainly brought her books on the history of her people, Targaryen people, and their dragons. Tyrion loved dragons. Perhaps, Rhaella often thought when he spoiled her, that was why Tyrion loved her best, she was the blood of a dragon after all.

She turned her head, watching as Zena rolled around, her mood suddenly playful. Sitting up, and disturbing her sleeping kit, she summoned the Hound to retrieve the lion.

"She wishes to play," she said, collecting the fox into her arms and cradling it. "I'm sure there is something in the woods that shall keep her interested."

The Hound had been a personal body guard to King Joffrey and he had been one of the few capable of controlling her lion, so she and Joffrey shared him.

Without a single word, not even a swear as the lion swiped at him with her massive paw, he lifted up the heavy chain that hung around her neck and pulled her away.

Things had changed in King's Landing, and along with it, so did the people, including Rhaella. She was colder, wiser, almost a complete replica of the woman that raised her, almost.

"My lady," turning, Varys stepped from the shadows, his bald head reflecting the sun's ray. "A letter."

He pulled from within his sleeves an envelope, a gray wax seal visible from where she stood. Approaching him, while shifting the fox to one arm, she noticed pressed into the seal was a direwolf.

"Robb."

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The Hound is out of character 👀

Varys and Rhaella tho, amright?
He has them close connections with all the Targaryens.