The Fire Wife || The Dance of Dragons

Dragonstone

It seems that the Maester had been wrong. Rhyaella Targaryen wife of Daemon Targaryen sister to the king of the seven kingdoms was pregnant once again.

She lays in her bed with her children beside her as her husband presents her with a dragon egg which he lays down at her feet.

'Where-? Viserys gave you an egg? I thought he had said-' Rhyaella asks as Rhaegar holds her hand as he drops his head knowing where his father got the egg from. The cradle of the dead prince his cousin.

'All Targaryen mothers have been given an egg for their coming child. Our child will be no different. It is a Targaryen after all.' Daemon replies answering her question while at the same time changing the subject.

'Thank you, Daemon' Rhyaella smiles at her husband as their children stand to leave for their lessons as their Maester walks into the room. The children all kiss Rhyaella's cheek before leaving. Their daughter kissing her father's cheek while their sons nod to him in respect which he returns.

Rhyaella holds her hand out to her husband which he takes as he takes a seat beside her on the bed. She takes one of his hands and places it onto her stomach.

Unknowing to both of them it would be one of the last times they ever were to tender with each other, because unknown to them Daemon's side piece Mysaria had just docked on the beach of Dragonstone with a disputed child in her belly.

When Mysaria is brought before the Lord and Lady of Dragonstone she tells them of the child in her belly. Standing tall before the six Targaryens. All with straight backs and long white hair. The men all have swords at their sides with the women look at her with cold, calculating, dead eyes.

Mysaria takes a deep breath to keep up the icey indifference with she is showing.

'You are lying' says Daemon

'I am not' Mysaria replies 'I am three moons'

'If she is not lying then we will see in six more moons' replies Rhyaella as she walks forwards to the scared Mysaria. Rhyaella smiles slightly. Her smiles reminds Mysaria of the ice she had seen once when she went to the North.

Rhyaella takes Mysaria's face between two fingers as she looks deep into her eyes. Rhaegar looks at his father who is glaring at them. Which one Rhaegar cannot say for certain.

'You will stay here. John!' Rhyaella calls

John a member of the gold cloaks steps forwards and bows his head to Rhyaella who steps back before walking back to Daemon's side standing tall as her husband and children stand either side of her.

'Takes the girl to a room and lock her in. No one is to go in or out unless they are the Maester or a servant with food. I want them all searched before they enter the room. Do you understand?'

'Yes, your grace'

'Good' Rhyaella turns and walks out of the room.

This was the beginning of the Rhyaella of the stories, cold, heartless and unfeeling. But unlike the stories she was not born this way. She was slowly broken piece by piece until all the love and warmth she once was, was taken away leaving only the coldest of ice and the hottest of fires behind. There was no longer any in between.