twin flames | daemon targaryen

four

Rhaella held Rhaenyra's hand tightly in her own as they stared at the pyre before them. The wind whipped around them, ruffling their skirts and knotting their hair. The sun shined down on them, not a cloud in sky. Rhaella thought it cruel of the gods to have such weather on a day as tragic as this.

It had been days since the deaths of their mother and little brother, and their entire world had changed. No longer could they go to their mother's chambers and hide from their septas. No longer would they hear their mother's sweet voice as she told them fanciful stories from her youth. No longer would they be able to hug the person they loved most in the world.

Their father stood a few paces away, unable to meet the eyes of his daughters. The truth had reached the girls regarding the death of their mother. They knew how he had chosen to cut her open in hopes of finally having the son he had so longed for rather than losing the babe. Instead, he lost them both. Rhaella had also learned that he had not even gone to the nursery in the few hours of Baelon's life. Rhaella would be the only Targaryen to hold the babe in his short life.

Viserys had not spoken once to Rhaenyra and Rhaella since that day, choosing to stay within his chambers in his grief. Rhaella could not deny that it stung. Yes, Viserys had lost a wife, but Rhaenyra and Rhaella had lost their mother, the only person in their lives who loved them wholly and unconditionally despite all the trials she went through.

A series of clicks could be heard from over the hill, drawing Rhaella's attention from the pyres. She looked up to see Syrax and Gaelith stepping over the hill towards the funeral pyres, their scales gleaming in the sunlight. Gaelith towered over the younger Syrax, her mighty figure casting the golden dragon in shadows.

"They are waiting for you," Daemon whispered to the sisters from behind. Rhaella bowed her head.

"I wonder if our father finally found happiness during those hours Baelon was alive," Rhaenyra murmured in High Valyrian. Rhaella squeezed her hand tight, her gaze briefly landing on their father who looked just seconds away from tears.

"Your father needs you two more than ever now," Daemon replied.

"We will never be sons," Rhaenyra muttered mournfully, this time squeezing Rhaella's hand. "I will never be a son." Daemon could say nothing to that.

The sisters stood there for a few moments more. Rhaella peered up at Rhaenyra's face, watching as tears slowly fell down her cheeks as she gritted her teeth. She would not be able to do it, Rhaella realized. Rhaella blinked back her own tears and stepped forward, her hand still clasped in her sister's.

"Dracarys."

Gaelith opened her jaw and spewed fire on to Aemma's and Baelon's pyres. The heat of the flames licked at Rhaella's face, but she could not find it in herself to step away. Her gaze was stuck on the burning pyres, listening as whispers carried in the wind.

She could feel Rhaenyra's hand slip from her grasp as she walked away from the pyres, unable to stay and stomach the slight smell of burning flesh. Viserys soon left as well, urged on by his Hand before he broke down in front of the lords and ladies in attendance. Eventually, Daemon left too, squeezing Rhaella's shoulder gently before walking away.

Soon, Rhaella stood alone in front of the pyres, watching as the flames began to die down, the bodies of her mother and brother long since turned to ash. It was as though her feet were rooted to the spot, unable to walk away even if she wanted to.

"I was good friends with your mother when we were girls," a voice said from behind Rhaella. The Peaceful Princess turned her head to the side, finding Princess Rhaenys, the Queen Who Never Was, standing just a foot away.

"I did not know that," Rhaella said softly. Rhaenys hummed, stepping forward so that they stood side-by-side.

"Her mother would often bring her with on trips to King's Landing. I have fond memories of us hiding from our septas in the Royal Gardens, giggling as we ate the lemon cakes we had stolen from the kitchens during our escapades. I am certain that the septas knew where we were, but, for some reason, they never came and got us."

"Muña loved lemon cakes," Rhaella remembered, her gaze sliding to the smoldering flames before them. Rhaenys smiled gently, reaching to place a comforting hand on Rhaella's arm.

"Perhaps I should ask the cooks to make some tonight in her memory," Rhaenys proposed after a few moments.

"I would like that," Rhaella said, turning to face Rhaenys, her bottom lip trembling. Rhaenys tutted softly and held her arms out for the girl. At the invitation, Rhaella rushed into Rhaenys's arms, the sobs spilling out from her lips. The dam had broken and the facade she had put on during the funeral fell, revealing a scared little girl ripped away from her mother by fate.

"I know, my child, I know," Rhaenys soothed, gently rubbing Rhaella's back. "The world is not fair. It has taken Aemma much too soon."

"I-I do not know what to do now," Rhaella sobbed into her shoulder.

"You will," Rhaenys promised her. "Someday. Not today, perhaps even not tomorrow. But someday." And in that moment, Rhaella realized that she was not as alone as she feared for here she was, wrapped in the arms of someone who would come to love her like she was one of her own. 

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word count: 955