There were two babes in the Tower of Joy.
Two babes tied so closely to their parents, Ned had to make the decision.
One with hair like raven feathers, eyes as grey as steel, and a face of a true Stark. The other, with hair like moonlight, eyes lik...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Rhaenar found herself back within the Throne Room, her eyes closing as she rested them against the Throne, breathing deeply. She had never felt so unsettled as she willed her body to relax, for her muscles to lose the tension they had gained through the days of being here. Home hadn't exactly felt like home; it felt like too much of a confine. Her fingers drummed against the armrest, nails hitting the stone as they landed upon it.
Oberyn and Olenna would be leaving soon, as would the Unsullied and Golden Company. In the days to come she would be facing her first battle, and Rhaenar was nervous. These were her men, people she had come to know and love, and she was sending them off to fight. A little pit began to form in her stomach at the thought of some of them not returning, especially the Dothraki that had been with her from the start.
The same old lady entered the hall, Rhaenar shuffling slightly. "Oh, I beg your pardon, Your Grace. I didn't mean to disturb you." Her voice was scratchy, bringing Rhaenar's attention to her as she watched wide eyed.
Rhaenar forced a smile, shaking her head. "No, please. Forgive me, I'm in your way." She went to stand, but the lady batted her hand in the air, telling her to sit still.
"I can dust somewhere else until you're free." She uttered, turning quickly despite her age. Her eyes flitted over the edge, seeing that the place was spotless of any dust.
Rhae watched as she reached the door, hand settling on the cool metal as she began to push it open with a groan. She had noticed the old woman hobbling after her every time she moved, the shuffling distinctive as Rhaenar turned in the chair, glancing to her. "You can stay, you know. I won't bite." She said to her softly, keeping a smile on her face as she motioned to a chair beside her.
The woman froze, her withered face raising ever so slightly to let two beady eyes gaze out. She moved forward slowly, her left leg dragging more than her right as she approached the dragon Queen, her indigo eyes warm. "How can I help you?"
"I'm not sure that you can." The woman said, Rhaenar hearing her clearer now as a hint of an accent dared to influence her words.
Rhaenar's brows shot up. "Oh."
"It's just... I've served a long time in Dragonstone; I've seen Queens and Kings, served both Targaryens and Baratheons..." The woman trailed off, wringing her hands in front of her. "You come to learn their secrets."
"Their secrets?" Rhae asked, confused. This woman had been in Dragonstone since Rhaella?
She nodded. "Like the relationship between Melisandre and Stannis, and King Robert's bastard son Gendry." This was news to her. "I also know about the secrets of..." The maid seemed unsure to say it, to utter the words to her. "Queen Rhaella - may she rest in peace."
