Chapter Text
She could feel her skin melting as her half-brother’s dragon, Sunfyre, set her body aflame. She heard her son’s screams and pleas as he watched her burn. Unbearable pain racked her body as her marble skin turned to black torched hide, her long white locks blazed away, and her body became rigid scorched wreckage. It hurt. It burned. But the physical pain was nothing compared to knowing she had lost.
She lost everything: her family, her love, her crown, the war, and now her life…
She was a fool for trusting people she shouldn’t have.
She was weak because she couldn’t protect her loved ones. She couldn’t save her innocent children, whose only crime was having her for a mother… She couldn’t keep her husband safe. Nor can she protect her two remaining boys from her half-brothers’ clutches…
If only…
If only…
I need one more chance…
She felt sharp teeth tear into her before her world went black.
~oOo~
Rhaenyra gasped awake, bringing one of her hands to the chest. Her heart drummed erratically inside her rib cage, sweat lingered on her forehead, and her breath came out in gasps. She could still feel the flames atop her skin, her body torn into two. She could still feel the cold touch of death…
And she didn’t know what to make of it.
She could feel her heartbeat, her hot blood running through her body-Alive. She was alive. How? She could still remember the moment when she died, and the moment she was eaten alive. But she was back. She was alive.
Rhaenyra climbed out of bed and looked down; she was wearing a soft, light nightgown, and her skin looked smooth with no scar insight. Her eyes scanned the room, it seemed familiar, and then it clicked. It was her room. The room she grew up in.
She took a wary step forward and another before she found herself standing in front of her full-length mirror. She looked at her reflection and gasped. She was younger.
Carefully, she touched her face. She couldn’t be older than eighteen.
She pinched her cheek. It stung. This was real.
She was real.
She wasn’t dreaming.
Many questions were swirling in her head: How? Why? Why her? Is she the only one? But they could wait. She was back. She was young again. Before the war took a toll on her, before she lost soo much, too much, before her heart was poisoned by vengeance and hatred, she was back, and it didn’t matter how. She could have everything she ever wanted now. She could change her gruesome future.
She could fix everything.
A small smile appeared on the princess’s face as she stared at her reflection. Yes, she would change their future, protect her loved ones, and rule the realm as she was supposed to.
But first things first, she needed power. Unshakable power so that no one could stand against her. Her father never truly prepared her for the throne, for what it meant to rule. She would have to change that now. To win the game, she would need the support of the masses and the support of the lords. She will have them all bend the knee, or she will have their heads.
There was a soft knock on the door, signaling the maids’ arrival.
“Come in,” Rhaenyra said before the door opened, and three maids entered. They made quick work of preparing the bath.
The princess let out a content sigh as she sank into the hot water. Her muscles relaxed as she settled against the bath wall. She looked at one of the maids that stayed with her, lightly scrubbing her body. She needed information; she wanted to know the exact date, how long it would be until her Daemon returned to Kings Landing, or if he was already here. How long she had until her father tried to marry her off to Laenor?
She couldn’t bring herself to wed Laenor again and waste ten years of her life in a loveless marriage when she experienced what it would be like to be married to the man she loved. Her Uncle. He had many aliases: Prince of the City, Lord Flea Bottom, the rogue prince, but to her, he was just Her Husband, her lover, her most trusted confidant.
Rhaenyra twirled her finger in the water, “Meera, is there any news about my uncle? About the war?” she asked carefully, trying not to raise suspicion.
“No, your Highness.” The maid replied.
I see he hasn’t yet returned from the Stepstones.
“When does the tour start?” The princess asked nonchalantly.
“His majesty ordered your highness to set sail in a week.”
Rhaenyra closed her eyes and let her mind wander. She had a week to convince her father to cancel the tour and wed her to Daemon. Not a lot of time, but it would have to do. Her future was at stake.
Her father would never be receptive to demands or taunting; the only way to get him to agree was through brutal honesty and guilt. She would have to guilt trip him into agreeing to her wishes. Respect and fear prevented her from going against her father before, but that was a mistake. She spent years standing in the corner filling up the cups of men below her station until, finally, her father gave her a seat at their table. The only price was losing the only man she loved. That couldn’t and wouldn’t happen again.
Rhaenyra rose from the tub, climbed out, and let the maids dress her. They put her in a simple yellow dress and braided her pure white hair. However, when the heir saw her reflection in the mirror-she frowned- she looked like a fragile princess with no power whatsoever. She couldn’t portray herself like that any longer. The people needed to see her for what she was-Their Future Queen.
“Change my gown. I will be wearing dragon riding attire today.” The princess ordered, and the maids obliged. They helped her out of the dress and into her dragon-riding outfit.
She looked at herself and smiled. Yes, this was better.
The princess left her chambers and went straight to the king’s room, looking for her father, while Criston Cole followed closely behind. The fact that “Kingmaker” was still her knight at this point completely slipped her mind, and she had to swallow her hatred toward him and play nice.
He was one of the people she despised the most. Not only he betrayed her, but he mistreated her children, and he was the one that crowned the Usurper. Even to this day, she never understood his reasons for choosing Alicent over her. He was a loose cannon, and she would have to deal with him sooner or later.
The heir reached the King’s chambers and motioned for the knights to open the door. She walked inside but gestured for Criston to remain outside. She heard the door close after her as she walked deeper into the room.
“Good morning, Father.” She greeted the king.
Viserys eyes widened. “Daughter, what a surprise.”
Rhaenyra smiled and went to sit next to the king, “I came to talk to you, Father.”
“About the tour?” he guessed.
The princess nodded, “More or less.”
Viserys raised an eyebrow at her answer. “Do tell.” He encouraged her to speak her mind.
Rhaenyra took a deep breath, “I already know whom I want to marry.” She stated.
The king’s eyes widened for a second before narrowing. He knew his daughter wasn’t telling him something, which meant he would not like what she had to say next. “Who?”
The girl clenched her fists and raised her head, “Before I tell you his name, I want to talk about the succession.”
Viserys straightened his back and focused his full attention on his daughter, “Continue.”
“Father, the moment you pass, my succession will be challenged, and the council will try to crown Aegon. Civil war will be unavoidable. To state my claim, I need power. “She explained.
“I agree. That is why having a powerful house behind you would strengthen your claim.”
Rhaenyra shook her head, “No. One house won’t be enough; they all have to acknowledge me. For that, they can’t see me as a weak little girl, and for that to happen, you have to let me have a say in the council; you have to let me make my own decisions. If I can’t lead, how can you expect them to fall in line?”
Her father’s expression became pensive, and the room fell into a comfortable silence for a moment, “I understand, but what are you asking for exactly.”
“I want to have a say in every decision from now on. I don’t want to be dismissed. Whenever I’m forced to shut my mouth, I lose the little respect the council members have for me. I want to be in charge of the city watch, I want to start learning swordsmanship, and I want to start creating an army that is loyal only to me. Then, I want to choose my husband,” Rhaenyra stated her wishes with her head held high.
Viserys rubbed his temple, “Why city watch?”
“To help the smallfolk as much as possible and understand what we need to improve. It also allows them to witness that the crown cares for them. It’s mostly about earning their favor. “
“What about swordsmanship?”
“I need to know how to protect myself. The lords must face the fact that women can also wield a sword just as fine as men, if not better. “Rhaenyra took her father’s hand in hers, “They have to understand that I’m not weak, that I’m not powerless. That I have people behind me that support me. That if you stand against me, your head will roll. I shouldn’t be made to endure comments about my weaker gender from the Lords supposedly courting me.”
Viserys squeezed his daughter’s hand, “As I said, a powerful house behind you would give you an advantage. It would give you the support you need to state your claim.”
The princess sighed frustratedly, “I don’t need a powerful house. I need a husband that would be loyal to me and only me. I don’t want to live in fear that he would choose his household agenda over mine when the time comes.”
The king’s eyes narrowed. “Who do you have in mind, daughter?” he asked.
Rhaenyra lifted her eyes and stared straight at her father while uttering the name of the man she wished to marry.
“Daemon.”
Viserys eyes widened for a second before his whole face twisted in anger, “No!” he shouted suddenly while standing up, “What are you thinking, daughter? He is your uncle!”
“Father, you said I could choose whomever I want!” the girl shot back.
“Anyone but him!”
“But I WANT Uncle Daemon!” Rhaenyra yelled.
Viserys was fuming as he roughly rubbed his temple,” Why...why him?”
“Father, the only reason you dislike uncle is that he tends to do what he wants; damn the consequences; often enough, his motives are just to piss you off. But we both know why he does that. He wants to be acknowledged and accepted by you. He feels that you betrayed him by choosing Otto Hightower as the hand. Can’t blame him for that because Uncle would have made an excellent Hand.”
Rhaenyra stood up and walked to her father. She once again took his hand. “Uncle is many things. Cruel, warmonger, whore bedder, but he would never betray our family. He would never betray me.”
“You can’t expect him to be a good, loyal husband. Just look how he treats his Lady wife. Do you want that? Be left alone for years?” her father countered.
“Please, father, don’t jest. Uncle and Lady Rhea are barely married. Neither of them wanted to marry the other. The only reason why they are still married is because of you. You refuse to annul their marriage. Marrying me would give my uncle everything he ever wanted. A pure blood Targaryen bride.” The princess explained.
“Rhaenyra, you can’t teach an old dog new tricks….” Viserys replied, exasperated.
“New tricks?” the princess sighed, “Daemon, always put the family first. He gathered an army for you when you needed to state your claim upon the iron throne. You refuse to see it. He will be a wonderful husband and father. “She said with unshakable conviction.
Viserys hands trembled, and he sat back on the bed, “I don’t know….”
Rhaenyra took a deep breath and kneeled before Viserys, “Father, I accepted your marriage to Alicent, even though she was my friend and had no political advantage. I forgave you for choosing my brother over my mother and killing them both. Surely, you can let me have the man I love.”
The king’s eyes widened, “Love?”
The girl nodded, “Yes, he always was the one for me.”
Viserys kissed Rhaenyras forehead, “I need to think about this, daughter.”
The princess let out a sigh and stood up. She slowly made her way toward the exit.
She was nearly at the door when she stopped and turned her head, looking back at her father, “I will have Daemon even if I have to feed every other suitor to Syrax.” She said before leaving the king’s chamber.