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an-abyss-of-stars · 8 months

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He saw her at daybreak - Part 7

Summary: The babe is growing steadily, and with merely three moons left in her pregnancy Rhaena begins to feel the calling of a dragon…

Warnings: None for this chapter!

Tag list: @minim236 , @bohemian-nights , @neocil , @nettysnest , @avidreader73 , @jordanjanellejoyy , @azaleapotterblack , @yourlittlehoe , @partypoison00 , (feel free to tell me if you want to be on the taglist or not)

P.S: AGGHHHH BLEH BLEH I'M BACKK!!

PLEASE, if you haven't been following my spotty updates on Tumblr, I basically wrote this entire chapter about month or more ago…and it totaled out to about 30k words in length…and the I reread it and hated it! LMfAO, so, I've been going through it slowly trying to make it tolerable, and in that process I've realized that I don't mind this first half too much! I think it's pretty good, so I decided I'd cut the chapter in half and let y'all read this bit! For those of you still care about this weird smutty fic!

This half isn't smutty i'm afraid to say, but the next half will have the other 20k words in it…so that'll have the sex scene it! Either way, long time coming! Hopefully you all enjoy it!!!

☾

The rest of that evening had been calm and peaceful, mainly due to Rhaena stealing her husband away, to enjoy the serene nature of the grassy fields that faced Dragon mound.

Aemond had Maester Varion push his last two hearings over to the following day, giving him the free time to lay with her and Vhagar in the grassy fields as the sun slowly began to set on the horizon. Rhaena had always thought this spot, here on the peak, was one of the most perfect spots to witness a sunset here on Dragonstone. The saturated orange glow of the setting sun bathed the grass and anything on it in such an ethereal way, everything glowed like pure gold.

Truly the Golden Hour.

With a soft tranquil breeze that ruffled and flowed over against them. Rhaena had leaned herself back against the solid massive heat that was Vhagar's side, while Aemond had comfortably rested his head on her lap. His body laid out on the cool grass, casual and relaxed, as he crossed his arms.

For once, truly, Rhaena's mind was at ease, sitting here in their shared comfortable silence. With her fingers absentmindedly running through his hair, Aemond had closed his eyes, either just as peacefully soaking in their solitude or just as likely he might have found himself comfortable enough for a light nap.

Not unlike his bonded dragon, Vhagar, the legendary she-beast could be heard purring soundly, a massaging rumbly feeling that vibrated against Rhaena's back.

Just off in the distance, Rhaena could see the great King of the dragons, Vermithor, nestled closely with his beautiful mate, the iridescent Silverwing. Seeing them together like this often brought back old memories of Rhaena's childhood, when she'd run these fields with her siblings and their own dragons. Back when they could sit with Caraxes and Syrax, and kepa would tell them all wild and exciting tales from his youth, the many exiles he'd experienced for annoying and angering his grandmother or aptly, his elder brother. Of his battle in the Stepstones, a personal favourite for all of the kids then. Sometimes he'd tell them about muña Rhaenyra in her youth, tales that made her blush and swat him affectionately.

But most cherished of all, to Rhaena at least, were when he told them all of how he'd courted the girls' other mother, their birth mother, muña Laena.

It always sounded so fantastical and romantic, Rhaena had always loved to hear of it, even when her muña was still alive. But after her death, she supposed it meant all the more to know that her kepa hadn't forgotten her. That even though he'd found love again, he'd never let go of his previous love…he never let her name or her memory fade into oblivion.

And she loved him dearly for that.

It was also never lost on her, the incredibly soft, fond expression Rhaenyra had whenever he spoke of Laena. A clear expression of someone who also once loved her mother.

Though, of course, by now Rhaenyra had been more of a mother to Rhaena than her birth mother, Laena, had ever gotten to be. This coming year, it would be eleven years since Laena died…eleven years since Rhaenyra had respectfully taken her spot in Rhaena and Baela's lives.

And just as well…this coming year…Rhaena would have a babe of her own.

Frightful business indeed…but exciting nonetheless.

Rhaena's little train of thought had swiftly eroded away as a new surge of energy started to spark within her. It started like a low hum…sizzling…sparking in the pit of her stomach, a faint tingle ringing throughout her body like full-bodied butterflies.

It was a feeling that sought attention…beckoning her over…and as her eyes searched around for the source.

Rhaena found herself gazing directly over at the glorious iridescent beauty, pink and white, light and regal…the Queenly she-dragon, Silverwing.

It wouldn't have caught her as off guard as it did…except, the dragon in question was gazing right back at her.

From across the vast field, their eyes met with fire-like intensity, something Rhaena had never felt before.

Surely this wasn't…

Not now…

After all these years…

The calling .

No.

It couldn't be.

Quickly she broke the line of sight, and tried to distract herself with conversation.

"Aemond," Rhaena breathed, still slightly startled, still in disbelief over what she assumed might be happening…but Silverwing would not move to her. If this was…what she thought it was…she'd have to make that move herself.

And for now…she wasn't sure she wanted to.

She wasn't sure she could…even if she did.

Eighteen years…her entire life she'd never wanted anything more. And now she was too scared to take it…claim it.

Maybe it wasn't fear .

Maybe she found herself existing in a false sense of acceptance.

Rhaena Targaryen…the only Targaryen in her current living family to not have a dragon.

This was a fact.

And it had been for years.

Was she really meant to change that now?

"Hmm," upon her lap, Aemond hummed faintly, whether he had in fact been resting or not, she couldn't be sure, but she had his attention now.

So she figured she'd use it, redirect her thoughts into something else, "the babe…do think we'll have a boy or girl? Or perhaps twins…they are quite common in our family…"

Her sentence trailed off into silence…try as she might, she could not focus.

That electrifying feeling ached and demanded attention.

Thankfully, she supposed, Aemond hadn't noticed the subtle change in her demeanor. Instead letting her casual question marinade as he turned his head towards her belly and pressed a soft kiss against her. His hand reaching up to caress the curve, "since they're coming from you, I wouldn't care what you birth."

"I could birth a deformed dragon creature," Rhaena had meant it as a slight jest, but the moment the words left her mouth, she realized there was a true possibility that she could. House Targaryen prided itself on pure Valyrian blood matches…and seeing how both of their fathers' were brothers and indeed incredibly pureblooded.

A true dragon-like babe was a real possibility.

Not a likely one…but a possibility nonetheless.

"I'd love them just the same," had been Aemond's calm response as he pulled himself up, sitting in front of her as he eyed her closely, "why do you ask?"

"Oh! No particular reason, just curiosity," she smiled sweetly, pulling her legs up and crossing them, "I just know, most men would prefer sons…is all."

Real authentic, nice work…

It wasn't at all, but it seemed to pass well enough. At the very least, the more she distracted herself with this pleasant conversation…the more time she'd be able to give herself to truly comprehend what was happening within her.

Softly, her mated dragon pulled her from her thoughts, she was drowning in them but thankfully he provided sanctuary. As he caressed her cheek, his indigo eye held her gaze quite intensely, it seemed as if he was trying to read between the lines. To view something upon her face that she hadn’t purposely realized she’d given in to, an expression, a twitch, a look…something to reveal more than what she had said.

And part of worried he might have seen what he was looking for…that he would be able to see right through her.

Her thoughts of callings and Silverwing …

Although, why she felt the need to keep these odd feelings to herself…she couldn't say.

But she didn't wish to attempt describing this discomfort when she wasn't entirely sure about it herself.

It had nothing to do with the symptoms she felt due to the babe and even then she’d barely been able to explain herself.

"You should be happy to know that I am not like most men," his voice was so low and smooth, silk-like in its delivery, while his gaze was so intense yet charming. His lips had begun to quirk upwards, something playful mixing in with his usual cunning smirk. As his hand slid from her cheek and down to her chin, his thumb affectionately stroked down over her lower lip to the shallow dimple on her chin. Such a simple gesture had managed to fluster her if only slightly, his tone had simpered down to a suggestive rasp, as he queried, "now, which were you hoping for, byka ābrazȳrys?" little wife?

Oh, how she loved when his voice did that.

Such a simple question, and yet, now he had her swallowing thickly and biting her lip.

"I couldn't possibly…" Rhaena spluttered, her voice all airy yet bereft, her eyes darting upwards towards the sky for just a moment, to calm her heated chest and mind. All the while his patience was unyielding…calm and planted like a purposeful current in a rushing river. When her eyes finally returned to him, she decided she might as well divulge a truth she’d once known, "hmm, well…a few moons ago. When I first heard that I was with child, rather instantly I imagined us having an adorable little boy. And it seems, ever since, I’ve only ever been dreaming of him in more vivid detail."

There a mixture of sweet fondness filtered through Aemond’s heated gaze, silently urging her on, clearly he was patiently waiting to hear more of her innocent dreams for their little growing family.

And so Rhaena thought she would indulge him with the details, letting her own hand reach for his cheek, as a naturally sweet smile grew on her own lips, "well, in my dreams, he always looks like a cute little version of you. And he has your eyes, deep and dark, that perfect indigo shade that so simply draws one in. He has your sharp cheekbones, but with really chubby cheeks. He also has your jaw, and maybe your eyebrows. Really floppy pale blonde curls, and maybe his skin is just a shade lighter than my own. But what I remember most, every time, is his adorable little laugh, it tugs at my heart even though I know I’ve only created it in my mind myself. But he smiles so much…all of the time. He’s such a happy little babe…and his smiles are so much like your own mischievous ones. He’s the most perfect little thing in my mind."

Rhaena had fallen into a slight daze, practically gushing over every little detail she’d imagined for their child. For even as she was only describing a dream…a fictionalized created image to her husband, one she’d seen a dozen times by now. It still felt oddly cementing to admit it all out loud, as if she was speaking this child into existence…truly cementing the idea that this little boy might be theirs…that he might be real. That her current little gremlin which she carried within her at this very moment, was possibly in fact the very same babe from her dreams.

Aemond for his part looked as if he had enjoyed her description, his face held an incredibly fond expression as he seemed to be putting her words to an image in his own mind. Especially grinning deviously once she’d gotten to the end of it all, “ mischievous smiles, are they," his free hand slipping around her waist, pulling her close to him, practically up onto his own lap, "wouldn’t you think it’s a dangerous thing to want our son to be the spitting image of me."

Her body instantly warmed, engulfed in the heat of his response with the added feel of being held in his larger more muscular arms. Rhaena might have planned on laughing, giggling brightly really, but his movements were faster. The nimble speed in which he tipped her chin up for his own easy access to her lips, just as fiercely as ever, he devoured her with a deeply passionate yet possessive kiss. She’d sighed instantly, melting against him wholly, as his heated tongue slipped through her parted lips. Delving into the molten heat of her own mouth and she did the same to his, her tongue roving over and syncing into a fire-like dance they’d played a million times over. And even so, her body always reacted the same, sparking live-electric currents through her blood. Like an itch only he could ever scratch for her, with just a kiss he held so much power over her.

Their rising tension seemed to connect with Aemond’s bonded mount, as Rhaena could hear Vhagar ruffling and rumbling behind her. Not that it stopped her husband, he only tugged her closer. Pressing her against him as much as he possibly could, desperate to feel the heat of their bodies entwined and bound together.

If he wasn’t careful, they’d end up writhing against one another in this field… once again .

For they’d done it several times before.

It was an active pull of force, to work against the current of energy her body was willing with his own, to deny the primal urge to feel his large member thrusted deep within her again so soon. But by the time Rhaena had found the resolve to want to pull herself back just enough to breathe, it felt as if she was pulling herself out of a heated trance. Her lips still desired to cling to his, latched on with near animalistic intent as her teeth still grazed at his lower lip, a possessive hold she barely wished to relinquish. And only caused him to groan quite provocatively, something deeply seeded from within him.

It took quite a lot of self control, to trail a heated path of kisses down along his jaw before she panted the words, "you cannot want me again so soon, three times in one day? I thought we were pacing ourselves?”

The incredible low and husky chuckle he’d given her had made her entire body flutter just at the sound alone, nevermind the dark wanting look in his eye, “you haven’t much cared for pacing ourselves during this last moon…if ever,”

This sort of talk was exactly why she was with child so soon after their wedding.

But as much as she wanted him at this very moment, her body urged rest and…more importantly, her little gremlin urged for more nourishment.

In just a moment, my little baby , she thought, glancing down at her swollen baby.

Deciding she still wished to finish their previous conversation, before their ever undercurrent of lust and love overruled them. Rhaena wrapped her arms more securely around his neck, leaning further onto him as she brushed her nose against him, leaning her forehead against his, feeling the innate sturdy warmth he always provided for her. Softly she gazed up into his eyes, practically puring when his indigo and sapphire eye gazed back into her own pale violet eyes, “you do realize that you still haven't answered my question, ñuha gevie zaldrīzes . What have you pictured for our child? What does my valzȳrys dream of, " my pretty dragon, husband .

There was a beat of sweet silence, as Aemond caressed her back, warm soft streaks drawing down her back as his nose nuzzled hers. As if he only craved to kiss her again, to drown in the senses of tasting her and holding her…forgetting the world around them.

Eventually his lips curved into a smile, one of those boyish grins that still made Rhaena's heart thump no matter how many times she saw it, "I already told you, I don't have a preference,”

“Well humour me then, my love,” she whined lighty, shifting herself around on his lap so that she’d be able to rest her cheek on his shoulder, “if you were to have a preference, what would it be? When you were most adamant about a fucking a child into me, did you not consider imagining what said child would come to be or even look like?”

Rhaena was wearing him down, or at least she hoped she was. Not that he needed much. She had her thumb softly caressing his neck as she held him there, pressing her plush lips against the scarred line he had on the other side of his neck. The one he had once earned during the tourney that was set right before their wedding, his final single combat match with Lord Cregan Stark. She still remembered how furious she’d been with him that day, how careless she’d thought him to be to remove his helmet during a match like that. Even now seeing the completely healed mark still evoked a strained emotion in her, one that always simmered into some sort of pride mixed with love, that her idiotic dragon had managed to win and live.

“Fine, for you, my little dragon," he sighed, drawn out dramatically as if he wasn't anything but excited to speak about their futures, about the child that would soon join their lives, "I suppose I've pictured a little baby girl. Daughters are far more precious, are they not?"

Her chest had burned almost instantly, primed to burst, for Rhaena hadn’t even dared to imagine her dragon carrying a little baby girl around the castle. But just the thought of it alone…he was indeed right, it would be a most precious sight. The idea of her stoic dark dragon Prince playing little games, sitting for little tea dates or escorting around the castle a tiny little Princess.

Rhaena couldn’t stop smiling over the thought, maybe she was equally hopeful for a daughter after all.

"Either way I wouldn’t mind, but if the babe is born a girl…then I'd hope she'd have the good fortune to take after you. I’ve envisioned a sweet little version of you," he'd kissed the edge of her jaw as he spoke, but Rhaena hadn't missed a word. Her heart, hammering at the idea of it all…that he could want for such a thing just as much as she did.

As she pulled herself up to properly gaze at him, his lips began to traverse the length of Rhaena's neck. His hand glided along the curving dip of her waist, and just as the flames of pleasure began to seep in once again…she found her eyes landing on Silverwing in the distance.

Once again.

Seemed she couldn’t escape it. That sparking feeling from deep within her, the one she'd spent the last half hour trying to suppress…it had awakened once again.

Even as she tried to focus in on her husband's affection…on the roaring sound in the distance, where from the corner of her eye, Rhaena could see a pure black dragon soaring out from the direction of the Dragon Mount volcano, most likely Cannibal.

But all would be for nought…her body longed to brave the scene.

She couldn't allow it now.

If she was wrong…she'd be putting more than just herself at risk. She'd be risking her babe as well. So instead she shook the thought from her mind, refocused on the dragon she had before her. Guiding his face back up to hers, brushing her lips over his, teasing the ferocity that laid beneath the surface.

Just as her stomach audibly growled, Rhaena grinned sweetly against his lips, with a soft contented sigh, "I am quite hungry now…"

"Then let's feed you," he stole one quick kiss, before he pulled her to her feet, walking her back to the castle.

☾

The next day, Rhaena had felt Silverwing's calling become even more potent…increasing throughout every hour of the day. It felt like a stiffening burn, charring and scorching, the more she tried to ignore it…the more it singed her from the inside.

As afternoon rolled around, Rhaena found herself perching her back against a cool wall of a corridor in the southern wing of the castle. Her chest felt as if it was constricting her…squeezing her lungs shut each time she tried to breathe deeply. It was in these moments, when the feeling was most intense…she could hear a roar in the distance, one she hadn't known all that well but was familiar enough with to distinguish it from the other dragons.

It was Silverwing.

She was calling to her…this was real…this was happening.

"My Princess, are you well?" Ser Garin questioned, clear concern etched on his face, he stepped forward to her but made sure not to touch her, "shall I alert Wardeness Aelaera, you may wish to retire for the day?"

A considerate offer, but no, Rhaena did not wish to retire…although she also did not wish to sit through petitions now either.

Soon enough the burning in her chest would subside, and in that moment of clarity, Rhaena simply shook her head and pulled herself off of the wall. Breathing deeply, collecting herself before she glanced up towards her knight, "I thank you, Ser Garin. But I am fine, I needn't retire…but just as well, I do not feel fit enough to endure through the rest of my duties today. Do inform Wardeness Aelaera she may sit through the farmers' disagreements on my behalf. Anything more, which requires my personal attention, may be moved to the morrow."

Ser Garin nodded swiftly, and left to relay the message.

Now left only with Ser Drako, Ser Miklaz and Ser Moredo, Rhaena turned towards them.

She had a few possible options now that she'd cleared the rest of her day. She could interrupt her husband once again, a very enticing option if only for the possibility that his presence might actually distract her. Or she could go for a calming stroll, summon her Ladies in waiting…or…do the frightening thing.

Do the one thing she'd wanted all her life… claim a dragon .

If that was what this was…if that was what Silverwing was truly calling her for.

She could just go to her…do the deed…but of course it was not that simple.

Rhaena supposed, she could simply ask Aemond…find out whether this feeling…was truly what a calling felt like. Or whether it was simply another symptom of her pregnancy…the latter of which he most likely wouldn't be able to say definitively.

Although if it was a pregnancy symptom, surely Maester Varion would have informed her of such during her check in with him earlier this morn. Not that she'd bothered to specifically bring up the recent way her body reacted around Silverwing, but if such a thing was ever present in Targaryen women when they were with child.

Surely he would have mentioned it.

Then again, she also wondered if it was an average occurrence for a Targaryen woman to claim a dragon when she was child as well.

The likelihood of either seemed slim to none, but she couldn't be sure.

Either way, Maester Varion had instead extensively checked over her physical progress. Laid up in bed in only a two-piece ensemble of undergarments so that she could expose her belly, allowing gel-like ointments to be poured and rubbed over it. There he examined the steady growing size of her belly, listened in for the babe's heartbeat and even confirmed that it was more than likely that she was simply growing one babe and not several.

No such luck with twins on their first attempt, but Rhaena found herself feeling slightly relieved when she'd heard it was not to be. One babe would already be a big new experience, two would have been just slightly frightening…just slightly.

At the very least, when she'd glanced over at her dragon Prince, he didn't seem phased by the news either.

He only cared that his wife and child were healthy and well.

And after their Maester checked off everything necessary for his examination, he assured both Aemond and Rhaena that she was currently in perfect health as was the babe. He even went as far as to inform them both that Rhaena's salt craving was nothing to be worried about, that women were known to crave all sorts of various things due to their babes…some a lot stranger than salt.

A fact, Rhaena was sure she already knew, but it did do well to be reassured by a Maester as well. For she knew her husband was more than likely just trying to calm her nerves the other day when he simply offered to give her whatever she wished for.

During her check in, her Maester had advised that so long as she made sure to stay more hydrated during her days, and kept the rest of her diet leaning more towards leafy greens and hardy vegetables as opposed to harder to digest heavy meats. She would be able to ensure the babe continued to grow healthy and well nourished. With a set of prescribed added vitamins and minerals, as well as mentioning the tonics she would have to start consuming once the next moon arrived.

All in all, it was assessed that Rhaena was indeed six moons along and that babe would arrive precisely in three moons, during the twelfth moon of the year.

Some time close to the Ice Winter festival or possibly even Qēlos Bantis … Star Night . A Yule-like holiday reserved for glittering parties, hymns and spiritual worship, gift giving and all. But most of all during the coldest moon of the year, it's reserved as a time for family, peace and love, blessings and good tidings.

How very wonderous it would be to give birth to a babe then, not that Rhaena much liked the cold, but it would surely make the time of year even more beautiful.

With sigh, Rhaena reorientated her thoughts.

She wasn't meant to be thinking of her babe now, even as her hand subconsciously already reached to rub soothing circles along her swollen belly as she thought. She needed to think of her situation. Of the fact that husband, her love, Aemond…he was a fiercely protective man. Especially now that she was carrying his child, if she went to him with her thoughts on attempting to claim a dragon…surely he wouldn't want her risking her life for such a thing.

It'd be her own life as well as their babe's life at risk all on the possibility that this may be a calling .

No .

The danger was beyond herself…she'd need to be certain.

This could not be a simple guess or a hunch, she needed to be truly certain.

What she needed was…an outside opinion.

Someone she trusted and loved, who'd know just as well what it felt like to claim a dragon.

Now all of her siblings were of no use in this case, as all of them had been given the fortune of having their dragon eggs hatch in their cradle with them as babes.

Her muña, Rhaenyra, had been blessed with just the same fate.

No, her choices were limited. In fact she had only one true viable option in mind…she'd write to her kepa.

The only other member of her family who had to claim a dragon, the only other man in her life that trusted and loved her so fiercely that he'd do just about anything for. Her father may be her very opposite in many things, but this was one thing he'd be most qualified in aiding her with, and she knew he'd be glad to.

Or at least she hoped he would be .

If she could receive a response from him soon enough, then she'd be able to make an intelligent decision.

Taking a deep sobering breath, Rhaena began to plot out her next set of moves. Starting with her with guards, she needed some space from them. She could do with some peace and seclusion for the next few hours.

"Ser Drako, I think I shall return to my chambers. I wish to send a raven. Nothing of note, just a letter to my father, the King," Rhaena spoke slowly, crisp and clear, she left no room for discussion before she turned, taking paced steps down the hall, "and Ser Moredo, do summon my Ladies to my chambers. After I'm finished with my task, I'd like to visit the bathhouse. The private hold's bathhouse."

"Of course, Princess," Ser Drako had grinned as he bowed, she could hear the joviality in his tone.

While Ser Moredo simply affirmed, "as you command, your grace."

Certainly a far more stoic young man than her two favoured knights.

Once Rhaena had returned to her rooms, she sped over to her seat by her vanity table, finally within the privacy of her bed chambers. With the remainder of her guards waiting outside in the hall, Ser Moredo only left to summon her Ladies a few minutes prior.

It was in that time, between her Ladies arriving to greet her here at her chambers, that Rhaena aimed to complete her letter to her father and have Ser Drako send it.

It was most definitely feasible, and Rhaena only assured herself of that as she shifted on her rosy toned cushioned chair, hoping to find at least one angle comfortable enough to perch herself.

It seemed her babe insisted on shifting uncomfortably within her today.

But she'd remained focused, already envisioning the words she'd put down on the page once she was ready. Pulling a clean sheet of parchment from her drawer, she began dipping her quill into some fresh ink:

To his Highness, King Daemon Targaryen,

Kepa,

I write to you with news, at least I believe it to be so. Over the past day or two, I have begun to feel something. Something seems to be drawing me towards Silverwing, I can feel her calling to me. Like stoked flames rising in my chest that burn all throughout me. It feels all-consuming, but I cannot seem to bring myself to her.

What if I am wrong?

And she does not in fact wish to bond with me?

Could I not be putting myself and my unborn child in unnecessary danger by risking such an encounter that may not be what I think it to be?

I sound a coward, I know I do. You've taught me better than this surely, as a true Targaryen, I should go to her. Take my chances, and should I perish, it would be a true dragon rider's death.

Even saying so evokes dark memories of my muña.

I'm not frightened of dying per se, not entirely. I'm more frightened of being wrong. And so I suppose, I'm writing to you in hopes that you might tell me that I am right. That is this is without a doubt the feeling I've been waiting for. And that if it is, I will not stall on it any longer. I will face my fate and I will go to Silverwing.

Until then, I shall wait…I am a patient one, that you know.

In all, I hope you are well, my dear kepa. I do miss you all, muña Rhaenyra as well, I know you both have suffered at the loss of little Visenya. We all have.

My heart also calls for all of my brothers and Baela of course. It's ridiculous I'm sure, but I hope my little brothers Aeggie and Vis have not forgotten me. I receive letters from Joff with their little questions from time to time, and it is most heart warming.

I have, as you've requested, been careful not to overly exert or stress myself. As you and my husband clearly are of the same mind, if it was up to him, I'd have no duties to attend to at all. I'd simply be sentenced to bed rest for my safety for all days until the babe was born.

In all, I hope my missive finds you well, kepa.

With all my love,

Your beloved daughter,

Princess Rhaena Targaryen, Princess of Dragonstone

When she was done, she waited a few minutes for the ink to dry. Skimming over her words once more before she rolled the parchment, sealed it closed with a red and black swirled wax, pressing down Dragonstone's own Targaryen three-headed dragon seal stamp.

She hadn't mentioned why she hadn't spoken to Aemond about all of this in her letter, but she hoped her father would have the sense not to mention it either.

Feeling she'd said all she possibly could, covered all of her bases. Rhaena slowly pulled herself up from her seat and waddled back through her rooms. Stepping back through her chambers, opening the door, and finally, handing her letter off to Ser Drako for it to be sent.

As he left, Rhaena's Ladiesmaids entered to prepare her for the bathhouse.

Perfect timing.

Preparing for the bathhouse meant removing her ornate pink blush-toned jeweled gown, as well as undoing her elegantly done fishtail plait that had trailed down her back. Slipping off her jewels, her earrings, bangles, rings and bracelets, as well as her prized sapphire necklace.

The last of which Rhaena supposed she could take with her, but at the risk of her sapphire, possibly, to her horror, slipping into the waters of the bathhouse. Sinking away from her, lost to her forever.

No, she could not risk such a thing.

Even though…knowing her husband, he'd never let her shed a tear over the lost item, he'd instead, most likely in secret, find a way to either retrieve it or replace it.

Though that wasn't an outcome she wished to invoke, as Rhaena was just as much attached to the item as she was with the memory of how she'd received it. To have spent her life receiving gifts and jewels from so many suitors and expectant eligible Lords. All meaningless frivolous glittering gifts, all meant to show the wealth they and their house was capable of.

Gifted like a trap meant to lure in a Princess …but not a dragon .

And to think this one simple yet elegant necklace had been the one gift that meant the world to her now.

Given to her by a man she never thought she'd have such intense feelings for…yet.

How the Gods worked in the most mysterious of ways.

Rhaena would always cherish the memory. How during the moon of their engagement, Aemond had made no fuss or spectacle on the day when he gave the necklace to her. He'd spent three whole days away from the castle, only to return and sneak into her chambers late at night. She'd been awake, reading as per usual. But the look in his eye told her that he had something for her, he hadn't said what, he only asked that she close her eyes and lift her hair to give him access to her bare neck.

She could still remember how she'd felt as the cool smooth steel graced her skin for the first time, how her mind could only focus on the warmth of Aemond's fingers. The way they'd grazed against her collarbone and slid along her shoulders, making her shiver with arousal, gooseflesh prevalent and prickling. All while still simultaneously offering her an odd yet all consuming sense of comfort with just his touch alone.

To think so soon in their newly made romantic relationship, he'd managed to have such a power…such a thing that came to easily.

Allowing her to naturally ease back against him, his sturdy heated chest, like a gravitational pull, she could do little else but meld against him.

By the time he'd bade Rhaena to open her eyes, she found that she could barely speak. In her mind, she had ideas of what sort of necklace this may be. What jewels may have been used, what cut of the gem, design of the steel or gold or silver.

But she'd been wrong.

The choice to use Valyrian steel should have crossed her mind, at the time she was preparing to marry a man who was most proud of his pure Valyrian blood. It was not uncommon for Targaryen men to court their Ladies with jewelry made of Valyrian steel, just as her kepa had done with her own muña, just as he'd done with current muña, Rhaenyra.

It was an apparent trend for most Targaryens, going all the way back to even some of their earliest ancestors.

And yet, it hadn't crossed Rhaena's mind that she might have such an opportunity. An opportunity that was now simply her reality. To be gifted a piece of her dragon, part of the very Sapphire he wore in his left eye, used to complete this necklace. Made to be an offering that would allow her to carry a part of him wherever she went…whether he could be with her physically or not.

It was her one precious item…her only jewel which she treated like no other. She’d never risk damaging it or losing it.

So she removed it, everything really, including her undergarments was stripped from her. With her silver curls undone, let loose, flowing down her back and slipping over her shoulders. Once she was ready, she simply donned a thick silky robe and soft cozy slippers.

Soaks in the bathhouse were meant to be calming affairs. So Rhaena dismissed her maids afterwards as she waited for her Ladies-in-waiting to enter the Dragon's Nest. It wasn't customary for anyone unauthorized to enter this area of the castle, it was always securely guarded as the one safe haven for any members of the royal family.

Rhaena even giving permission for her Ladies to enter beyond this point was a blessing in itself.

As it was, Dragonstone held two bathhouses. One that was welcome to all courtiers and noble visitors alike, located in the northern wing of the castle. It was on the main level of the castle. Warmed by the volcano's heat well beneath the building’s structure, but as it was built on the main floor, the water’s temperature remained more of a Lukewarm temperature than a true quality Targaryen heated spring bath.

Which, Rhaena supposed, made perfect sense.

For that bathhouse was not meant for the royal family…it wasn’t meant to appease true dragons.

No, there was another bathhouse. On the main floor, down in the southern wing of the castle, one corridor led to the securely blocked off and guarded Dragon's Nest. Passing through that corridor, which led to several rooms, chambers and solars that were reserved for the royal family alone. There, there was a hidden door at the end of the corridor, smoothed in with the slick granite walls, missed by all who did not already know of its existence...for behind that door there were special specific steps. Steps that led down a level to the private Targaryen bathhouse, known as The Springs Of Caraxes . A true hot spring, one that allowed the heat of the volcanic magma from the Dragon Mount, deep below the castle, used directly to warm the waters of the bathhouse.

It was a far lovelier room as far as Rhaena was concerned.

It was a bit of a walk, through a hidden corridor or two, but once inside it was the brightest, most beautiful of places. The size of a large grand hall, the halls were once again made of smooth white marble. With pillars and archways that held smoothly carved statues of the Fourteen Flames in their most grand humanoid forms. The ceiling arched and curved with a cascaded glass ceiling that allowed in glowing sweet daylight. This ceiling did not face the grounds' of Dragonstone though, it seemed to be crafted upon the cliff's edge.

For it only ever faced the sky.

Along the edges of the crisp blue bath water, along the borders, were small steaming water fountains that helped to steam the air. Rhaena had also, of course, decorated the borders with more potted plants. Pale blue Hydrangeas and pale violet Wisterias mixed in with pink Roses and Dragon Spittles, a thorny green plant Rhaena found, looked quite eye-catching in floral arrangements.

Yes, this bathhouse was where she felt the most at peace.

Eventually her Ladies would be given passage to her chambers, and once they had, with Rhaena's two remaining guards in tow. She guided her Ladies to the hidden bathhouse.

It was a bright sunny day, so the bathhouse was illuminated beautifully. The afternoon sun reflected so brightly against the water and the white marbled room.

The guards would remain outside the doors of the bathhouse, while Rhaena and her Ladies would unsheathe themselves from their robes and enter the steaming water of the bath bare.

Of course, Rhaena's own tolerance for the water's temperature was higher than the others. Lady Kyra couldn't take the heat in particular, so she usually sat in one of the cushioned chairs along the side with a book in hand.

Lady Ellyn's tolerance was much better; she'd always stay in the water the longest alongside Rhaena, while Lady Lelia and Lady Victaria would periodically remove themselves from the steaming hot water.

Rhaena had taken to floating on her back, looking up and out at the sunny blue sky. Bright and exfoliating. Lady Ellyn stayed seated on the steps that entered the water, letting her legs soak while she laid back. As Lady Lelia had chosen to lay out on a pale pink chaise lounge, opting to let her skin take in some sun, as she claimed she felt 'too pale'.

A sentiment Rhaena and the rest of the girls found to be a bit comical, as women from her region were meant to be celebrated for having pale skin.

"Princess, I've been meaning to ask. But how have you been, pregnancy wise…each passing day is a day closer to your due date," Lelia Lannister asked, her voice floated in, echoing in slightly with the crisp acoustics of the room, "I know I was quite frightened when my late husband had placed a child within me. Though I suppose I never did get this far along, to know any true symptoms beyond nausea."

It was true, Lady Lelia had lost her child early on…early enough that she'd never been too distraught over the loss. Not as distraught as her late husband had been.

"I'm fine, I suppose," Rhaena sighed, her discomforts with her pregnancy came and went like the wind sometimes…and sometimes they stuck to her like glue and bogged her down for hours if not days. But that wasn't a feeling she felt she could convey all too easily with just words.

"Truthfully you're handling it quite gracefully," Victaria smiled, slipping back into the water as she'd been sitting on the edge, "I've seen some of my brother's salt wives, and I recall some of them being incredibly irritable."

"Oh I've been irritable," Rhaena laughed, "you've only missed the worst of it. I broke down crying to Aemond over salt just yesterday. Apparently the babe only craves the oddest of flavours."

"Really!" Kyra giggled, "what is it with babes in the womb always making their mother's consume the oddest of foods. My cousin, who lives in the North, she once wrote to me upset that her babe only craved sweet cream and mint leaves. She'd lamented having eaten a whole tin of only mint leaves!"

At that, all of the girls giggled.

And Rhaena's chest felt lighter…warmer.

"I suppose I can relate, this morn, I'm sure I poured a bowl's worth of salt into my porridge and then drizzled it all with honey," Rhaena sighed with a smile, "I have no idea what sort of creature I'm feeding, but surely this is no regular babe."

Lelia turned herself over so she could look at Rhaena when she spoke, "Princess, if anything is certain, you shall give birth to a most beautiful child."

"Such flattery shall get you nowhere," Rhaena grinned, but her cheeks had warmed at the compliment nonetheless.

Lelie was unfazed, only shrugging, "come now, everyone knows house Targaryen only births beauties. You're already one of the most beautiful women of all the realm, and you've gone and married quite possibly the most handsome member of your family. There is no doubt you shall birth a lovely babe."

"Absolutely, a babe that only loves for salty foods!" Victaria giggled, and Rhaena joined her, splashing a wave of water over her. It was so close to Kyra that she shrieked.

In the aftermath, Rhaena only sighed a soft smile, relishing in the comfort of having such kind ladies in her company.

"But Princess, you shall tell us if things become too much, yes," Lady Ellyn who'd remained quiet thus far had spoken so elegantly, stoically nearly, "the pressure of pregnancy is not one any woman should be bogged down with. Especially not as you enter your later moons. And I could understand the fear a Targaryen woman may feel as she enters motherhood…"

At a glance, Rhaena caught her smokey grey eyes, and nodded softly, "I'm not sure anyone but another Targaryen woman may truly understand this fear…but nonetheless, I thank you. All of you. You four are my trusted confidants."

She didn't wait for their responses, instead Rhaena dipped herself below the water's surface and swam to the further edge of the pool.

In the silence of the water, one thing was certain…soon enough she'd have to face the things that frightened her.

For one could only run so long.

☾

It was getting worse, at night Rhaena would only dream of Silverwing. As if she could see her great-grandmother in her youth, gloriously riding atop the beautiful glistening dragon. A true Targaryen Queen of old riding a mount that was most fitting for a Queen.

Surely, Rhaena thought, she herself was no such Queen .

Formidable and ethereal.

Did Silverwing truly wish to be claimed once again?

By Rhaena Targaryen no less?

It was a thought that plagued her, rounding its way through her mind, her body, her soul.

If it was to be…it'd be all she ever wanted. She'd finally feel right…true…worthy of her name. Worthy to be the namesake she was, to be named after the great Queen Rhaena …rather than to live her life of eighteen years with no dragon.

Surely her ancestors must have been disappointed…even if her parents and family claimed not to be.

Even if her husband claimed not to be.

Aemond would always say it didn't matter to him, that he was happy to be her dragon, that she'd claimed rightfully so.

A sweet sentiment she'd believed in most days…but ever since this burning feeling from Silverwing…Rhaena was beginning to doubt things.

He'd chosen her above all others, and of course, deep within herself she knew that he'd chosen her because he found something kindred within her. Because they could relate to another, had things in common with one another…found one another deeply attractive, like a magnetic pull that neither could deny.

All that she knew.

But she also supposed that her pure Valyrian blood held more weight than whether she claimed a dragon or not. Either way, the fact remained that whatever hole existed within her…however the realm would view a Targaryen Princess…things would be exponentially different if she were to claim Silverwing.

"Skoriot emagon ao geptot naejot," where have you left to , Aemond's low voice pulled her from her winding thoughts about Silverwing. Bringing her back to the clear present, where she stood behind her seated husband in their chambers.

That morning had been a rather average one, Rhaena had awoken alone as Aemond had woken himself earlier to train. Upon his return they'd bathed cozily together, in the heated water Rhaena had allowed herself to melt against her dragon . She'd let his strong arms secure her fears and wandering insecurities.

But even still…she hadn't been able to broach the topic of dragon claiming .

Afterwards, they'd helped to dress one another, an activity she'd missed from their earlier days of wedding to one another. It always made their mornings feel more comfortable, when they could spend their time together before they had to step away from one another to take care of their duties.

It also gave Rhaena the time to braid her husband's hair, something she really loved doing.

She had him seated at her vanity table now, as she brushed his still slightly damp pale hair. Combing her fingers through the silky feel of his hair, scratching his scalp lightly with her nails the way she knew he liked it. She then messaged in small amounts of her own hair milk and oils. He never did oppose to her using her own products on him, creams and oils or otherwise, even when they were sweetly or floraly scented.

It was both heartwarming and slightly amusing to think of her husband storming around the castle, intimidating nobles, servants and subjects alike…all while partially carrying her scents around with him.

"Iksan vaoreznuni, ñuha jorrāelagon. Ñuha bartos…nyke've sepār issare tubis ēdrurys," I'm sorry, my love. My mind...I've just been day dreaming, Rhaena hummed softly, it wasn't a complete lie…as far she was concerned at least. She had been lost in thought…thinking of her odd dreams and the weird feelings her body had been giving her.

Aemond only hummed as a response, leaning his head back just a bit so she could begin braiding, "hmm, ēdrurys hen skoros, ñuha gevie dārilaros," hmm, dreaming of what, my beautiful Princess.

Rhaena couldn't help the bright smile that formed on her lips as his voice rasped handsomely at the word beautiful .

She wondered if she should have been used to his casual compliments by now…they'd been together for several moons now. Surely the honeymoon phase had come and gone by now…although Rhaena could concede to herself that no amount of time could pass where she wouldn't feel so affected by him.

So she sighed, a peaceful dreamy sound, soft and demure, "the usual by now, I suppose. Of dragons and babes. The Harvest Festival too, preparations may be all but complete for the feast itself, but then there is the ceremony and the sacrifices…"

Rhaena had nimbly and neatly braided his hair down in one single plait, tying off the end with one of her thinner black hair ribbons.

Once he felt she was finished, Aemond leaned himself back so he could look up at her truly, "you're thinking the sacrifices will be a problem,"

It was a loaded question.

His voice had simmered into a most sympathetic tone for it just as well, because he wasn't really asking her about the sacrifices themselves. He was hinting at the true center of the issue…her aversion to situations that dealt with large quantities of blood.

During their time here, he'd been most considerate if not entirely conscious of his decision to perform any and all approved executions without her present. It'd been a decision they'd never had ever really discussed or cemented as an agreed upon move to go forward with. But either way, Rhaena was most thankful for it. Ever since Criston Cole and his plot to steal away Aemond and possibly even slay her in the process…she'd never really been able to put that night behind her.

Maybe the aftermath and consequences of it all…but the actual events that occurred that night. They still haunted her at times…some nights still.

And now, as they approached their first celebration here that would require a blood sacrifice for the Gods…it would seem Rhaena would be forced to face her fear once again.

"Only slightly," she leaned herself over him, pressing a warm kiss to the crown of his head, draping her arms over and around his shoulders as she nuzzled her chin atop his head, "but I shall overcome it. Even though, for the ten years that I lived here exclusively with my family. Every year, every solstice, there were four festivals that required blood sacrifices to the Gods. And a handful of others that encouraged them. It's never stopped me from liking the ceremonies, I always have, I'd just turn my head away or close my eyes for the sacrifices. If I should feel uncomfortable tonight during that portion, I'll…simply do the same."

Aemond's hands held hers, his thumbs caressing the palms of her hands. He wouldn't ask her, he'd simply guided her arm, and her body to step around from behind him. Allowing him to smoothly swoop her up onto his lap, wrapping his arms around her waist as he pressed slow heated kisses along her jaw and throat. Rhaena found herself sighing contentedly, relishing the feel of him, his body burned hot and hard against her but he felt so soothing nonetheless. With his chin nuzzling along her neck and against her shoulder as he breathed deeply, seemingly settling himself. Tempering whatever wishes or thoughts he might have had in the moment.

In the reflection of the mirror on Rhaena’s vanity, she met Aemond's eye, watching as his jaw rolled while his lips twisted. He was mulling over the various things he wanted to say to her, figuring out how to word his thoughts, as if he was sifting through a million emotions he'd never be able to verbalize to her.

Not that she ever needed him to.

"Ñuha dārilaros…ñuha vok byka ābrazȳrys," my Princess...my perfect little wife , his voice was all low and somewhat husky, like a near sultry growl that worked its way from the back of his throat, "I don't want you to feel any discomfort, not if I can do something to help it. I can have the High Priestess perform the ceremony another way…"

"I love you, so much, oh, how you know I do," Rhaena wasted no time attempting to turn herself just enough to grasp his chin and kiss him sweetly, smiling against his lips as she did, "but…there is no need to ask the temple for such a thing. The Gods only respond to blood anyhow, and by rights of our ways, I must be present for it. Whether I gaze upon the slaying exactly or not has never been specified in any text, but physically I must bear witness with my presence. It is the way of things."

He loosed a far more weighted hum accompanied with a heavy sigh as his arms tightened their hold around her.

She could tell that wouldn't be enough for him, he'd want to offer her something…anything.

So, Rhaena did her best to think of something, thinking back to the many ceremonies she'd attended as well as the many texts she'd read on the topic. She couldn't see a clear way to avoid anything.

"The other day…" Aemond had started, the way his breath warmed the exposed skin on her shoulder made her shiver just slightly, "I found in most texts, the ruling sovereign may perform the sacrificial act instead of the High Priestess. I carry Blood Moon now, either or, it would be most fitting if I do carry out the deed by my hand, my blade. Besides, I'll be quicker than the High Priestess. I'll be fast, it'll be painless for them, and that way you won't have to witness it for long."

It was true, Rhaena's own father had always taken the task honorably during most ceremonies that required such large sacrifices.

So, she supposed the fact that her husband may want to handle this task himself as well…it made sense to her.

And in this case he intended on doing the duty quickly…for her sake.

For a moment, Rhaena gazed out the window beside the vanity, her eyes trailing along the lovely cliff side view, the crashing deep blue sea several leagues down below them. The sky was clear this morning, with only a few scattering clouds floating across the pale blue sky as the sun beamed down bright rays through the open windows of their chambers.

And there flying off in the sky…off in the distance…there she was.

Silverwing.

Flying, circling loops around her mate Vermithor.

Picturesque as always.

The might of house Targaryen.

So many things…so much clouded around her mind. Here she was in her husband's embrace, as he worked to please her as much as possible by making her life easier. And even now…she couldn't even imagine bringing up the one true thought that plagued her.

This might be her chance, her only chance, and here she was letting it pass her by. There was no telling what happened to one's body if they ignored the calling of a dragon. This flame that coursed its way through her, all fury and wanting, if she left it unquenched…would it engulf anyway?

Would it kill her if she didn't act on it?

Would it kill her to share these thoughts with her own bonded mate, the man she'd grown to trust with every part of herself. She'd given him access to every inch of her body, her heart and her soul. Her mind was usually so open to him, her thoughts and emotions on clear display for him and only him.

And yet…with this one thing…she still felt the need to keep this hidden.

At least for a little while longer.

"It's true, my father used to be the one who'd make the sacrifices. I trust you'd do them quickly, swiftly," her voice was so close to straining, such a lump had formed in her throat but she managed to fight past it, leveling her sound out as she pulled her lips into a soft smile. She hoped desperately that Aemond wouldn't see through her now, she wouldn't be able to cope if he did. Rhaena was in no mood to shed tears now, so early in the morning over a matter that seemed to overwhelm her entire being.

So instead she quickly aimed to shake off the discomfort, feeling his hands caress her belly, she placed her own warmly over his. Nuzzling her cheek against his, "after the feast and ceremony are done with. Next we shall have to redecorate the nursery, we only have a few more moons before our little gremlin arrives,"

Rhaena could feel his smile, his warm chuckle reverberating against her back, "sepār hāre tolī hūrus, byka mēre," just three more moons, little one.

There, Rhaena felt her heart burn sweetly, a truly happy smile graced her lips, especially as she knew that sentence wasn't for her.

It was for their babe.

Bit by bit…she'd have to remember to think of her babe when things felt too overwhelming.

She’d have to learn to embody what it meant to be a mother.

☾

P.S: So overall, I think what was really obstructing me with this fic was the arbitrary "40 chapters" total I gave this fic, so if you've noticed, I've taken that off and I'm just going to let this fic go on for as long as it needs to. That way I won't feel too bad if I split things up or meld things together, and I won't be fighting myself to stay on target with the number of chapters I'm writing/creating.

Anyways, this just means the initial plan I had for when baby Vaella will arrive has been pushed back one chapter so far, so instead of her arriving around ch.10 it'll probably now be ch.11. Nothing too major. (This effects Ao3 only really...)

And now I've just got to go through/edit the 2nd half of this chapter! Honestly, I like what I've written, and the plot and everything is fine. It's just the sex scene that's bothering me!! Like I don't know what it is about it, but I hate something about it…the things they do is all fine, like the sex itself is what I wanted to happen…it's just the way I've described it or something…I can't really explain it. But something about it just lacks feeling or true eroticism…it just reads like I'm describing things that are happening…but I don't think it sounds genuine…if any of that makes sense.

#aemond targaryen #rhaena targaryen #aemond x rhaena #rhaena x aemond #hotd fanfic #hotd fic #rhaemond #hotd #he saw her at daybreak #hshad

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