Chapter Text
They were walking to the Godswood of Kings Landing, a young forest, but you could feel the gods in there, even without a weirwood tree. Rhaenys was quiet, as she used to be until they were sure that no animals followed them-neither Varys little birds nor Arya’s direwolf. Arya was a bit too curios sometimes. They entered the first rows of trees and made their way to the center in silence. When they reached the darker, more humid parts of the forest, Jon murmured to Ghost to look out for unwanted visitors, and they watched the white direwolf fade in the darkness. Finally, she turned to him. “Do you really think that’s the right choice?” he asked, studying this young, beautiful, yet somehow hard face with the warm blue eyes that could pierce you. “I don’t think it, I know it.” she whispered, “Aegon is useless alone. The Lannisters won’t be happy with the only second place.” “Two Dragons wed to Lions…The north is not going to like this.” “Mya is hardly considerable Lannister. It has been generations since a really important Lannister showed up in her line. There’s mainly Tyrell and Martell in her, she even looks like a Tyrell. And the Umbers are getting my Sister.” “You would have liked her with Rickon, not?” He still felt sad when talking about the last trueborn son of Ned Stark. Rickon died, after all he had survived, he died of an ordinary sickness. And Bran...no one had ever seen Bran since years. He was lost, probably dead. “I would have. But some things don’t happen. Visenya will like the Umber.” “She will.” She breathed in heavily. “I still ask myself sometimes…Why have you refused being married to Sansa?” “I told your mother a dozen times. Even though we are only cousins, I just couldn’t stop thinking of her as a sister. She’s happy with lord Karstark, I believe. More happy than she would ever have been with me.” She sat down on a rock that was full with moss, looking in the darkness in front of her, seeming like dreamt away. “You refused them all. Sansa. Daenerys. Heck, even Arianne Martell, and this one is just simply wonderful. You could have been king, you know? Why did you never wed under my mother’s reign? You’re like the most wasted potential in King’s Landing. The son of Rhaegar Targaryen and Lyanna Stark. My mother could have been securing the whole west with you, and we wouldn’t have this Lannister problem today. Why? Why did she let you? She even forced herself to marry, why not you?” He laughed softly. “You are strange persons, you Targaryens, do you know that? I always thought of your mother as the strangest Targaryen, but you point her out by far. You’re too strong and too clever for your own good.” “And how am I to take this for an answer to my question?” Now it was his to stare into the darkness. “It was just…Have I ever told you about my time with the wildlings?” “More than once. Of Ygritte, the spearwife, and Val, the wild princess, about the dead of Qohrin Halfhand and how Maester Samwell saved Gilly and her son…About the White Walkers and warging, about you and Ghost…I loved these stories, as I loved to hear Arya telling about changing faces and Bravoos… But how is this supposed to answer me?” “The wildlings…They’re free. Sometimes I believe I should have stayed there. I was so fascinated by that freedom, you can’t believe it.” “Oh, I can. I was never free. Never. I am Rhaenys Targaryen, Queen to this Realm forged in Fire and Ice, and it’s the first thing you learn as a princess: You are not free and you’ll never be. Freedom must be fascinating.” “It is. Intoxicating. And I think, I never wanted to give up a bit of my freedom. And being king or queen, king of the North or king of Dorne or king of the whole Realm, as you said, is the thing as far away from freedom as a thing can be. I just wanted to stay as free as possible.” “Understandable. How are the Gold Cloaks doing? Are we safe?” “From whom do you fear an attack?”, he asked, laughing. “From Drogon.” “Drogon? Your mother’s dragon? That's pointless. Why should he do that? It's like my Rhaega attacking the city-it will never happen.” “ I think he got as mad as my father when she died. Rhaega is yours, Viserion Tyrion’s…But Drogon was my mother’s as Whisper is mine. He was on a tour outside the city when she died, and not seen since then. I sent Whisper the day after Daenerys took her last breath, but she didn’t brought him back. Perhaps you could ride on Rhaega to look after him? I fear he might do…something stupid.” “Why not Tyrion and Viserion?” “Jon, do I really need to tell you? You are a wonderful person, just, honorable, and that’s your problem. You don’t have that much use as Tyrion when it comes to advice in the Game of Thrones.” “You won the Game. You're sitting on this Iron Throne that's so important for you Targaryens.” “No. It’s a game you can’t win. You can sit on this ugly Iron thing my great-great-great-great-grandfather forged-and he must have had a really bad taste, I mean, it’s ugly- but it’s never yours. You only sit there for a while, perhaps a day, perhaps a week, perhaps a a season, perhaps your whole life, and it’s never yours. It's only lent…From the gods, maybe? From Aegon the first? From my mother? I don’t know. But it’s lent. “ For a while, they sat there, he on the ground and she on her rock. Her face was unreadable. After a few minutes, he asked: “Why don’t you tell Arya about your intention to marry the Lannister? You told me and Tyrion, why not her?” “Because Arya would tell me the arguments against it. I mean, I know I need to do it, but Arya would find something that makes me believe I don’t have to. She’ll say that they’ll have Aegon married to Mya and if this isn’t enough for them, she’ll put a sword trough them and after she told me that, she’ll laugh and say that we can run off to Braavos to escape the whole thing called Seven Kingdoms… We can’t, but she’ll make it sound like we can. She’ll make me tremble.” He let this sunk for a few seconds. Too smart for her own good… The only dragon among the three Targaryen children. The other two may look like Targaryens, but they're childish fools compared to this lady-no, not lady, this queen-next to me. “And Varys? Why haven’t you told Varys yet?”, he asked. “Varys whispers in many ears. Aegon needs to be wed to Mya before Varys knows about my planned betrothal with the Lannister, because as soon as Varys knows, he may be telling it Aegon, and even I couldn’t bring Aegon to marry Mya then. He’ll say something like that I’m already marrying a Lannister and he doesn’t need to do it, because I’m already doing it… And my best threat to him, me as his bride, would be useless then.” “Well, I assume you’re right then. But when will you tell the court? And the poor Lannister, does he already know?” “The boy doesn’t know yet. The Lannisters know that Aegon will be married to Mya, of course they know, she is on her way from this little castle near Casterly Rock to King’s Landing right now. And they know that this isn’t enough for them. Even with the hollow title “King”, they’ll be satisfied. And at least, Benjamin Lannister is not mad like his half-brother was.” He breathed in loudly. This girl was as stubborn as Arya. Benjamin Lannister was the son of Jamie Lannister and a lady from the Green Vale, he married her shortly after the war. Daenerys would have killed Jamie for the murder of her father, Aenys, but his help in the conquer and the stories about her father's madness she heard from everyone changed her mind. “It will be horrible for you, being married to don’t know, for a political reason…” “My mother survived it. Arya survived it and is loving her husband now. Why not me?” He wanted to shout something like “because we are talking about a Lannister!” at her, but the slender girl next to him was his queen. So he only told her: “It was hard for them. And Arya doesn’t love Lord Martell. She only started liking him, the way you like a friend.” “ Right, I forgot... But nothing more I want, I would be satisfied with even less. I stopped hoping love, I stopped hoping for freedom. Love and freedom are things you will never get as a queen. What I want is to forge and empire…To conquer the Iron Islands, to give the Lords their war and the poor their bread. I want peace in the main land and fire raining on Pyke… And a husband I can tolerate. Not love, not like, I’m happy with someone I can tolerate. Someone that will help me giving the Iron Throne a heir. Nothing more and nothing less… Because it’s only lent, this ugly thing, and I can’t sit on it forever. But I want someone of my blood up there. And if this means that I need to marry the son of Jamie Lannister to protect my sweet, kind and fragile sister from the claws of this Lion, I’ll do it. I do not show it, but I love my family, and for my siblings, I’m the only person remaining of their family. It is my duty to protect them, not only as their queen, but also as the head of their family.” He understood her better now. How much she loves her two laughing, cheerfull siblings... They fell in silence. This comfortable sort of silence, the sort of silence he only could share with Rhaenys and with Arya. Jon suddenly realized that dawn was arriving. The first day of the reign of Rhaenys Targaryen, called “Flame”, broke. May it be the first of many, many days.