twin flames | daemon targaryen

seventeen

The joust scheduled for the next day had been called off as a result of the senseless murder of Ser Joffrey Lonmouth, as had the rest of the planned festivities for the week. The killing of the Prince Consort's friend was not something to be taken lightly, and the future of Ser Criston Cole was obscured with doubt.

Laenor had been nearly inconsolable that morning when Rhaella and Laena broke fast with him in private. Every time he closed his eyes that night, he told them, he saw Joffrey's lifeless face. Laenor had seen war. He had seen men cut down in the most brutal of ways, but to see his lover killed so senselessly in a time of peace and joy was something entirely different.

Rhaenyra had come to collect Laenor an hour into their meal so that they could see the countless lords and ladies off on their journeys back to their keeps. She had respected his desire to have a private moment with his two best friends, but duty always called. Rhaella and Laena watched them together, noting the new camaraderie between the husband and wife.

Before long, Laena had convinced Rhaella to join her for a turn around the gardens. They abandoned their food and walked to the royal gardens, comfortable silence falling over them as they passed through the deserted corridors. The festive atmosphere that had covered the Keep the day before had been snuffed out, leaving behind a somber stillness.

The royal gardens were almost empty when they arrived with just a few young children running about with their septas close behind. The tall grasses danced in the gentle breeze and birds chirped together in the trees. A honeybee flew lazily in front of Rhaella's face and she smiled.

"Mother forced me to speak with Borros Baratheon yesterday before the feast," Laena finally said with a frown, peering over at where the children were playing. "That man cannot be more full of himself than he already is. He only talks about hunting and fighting and when I brought up Vhagar, he almost shit his pants."

Rhaella wrinkled her nose in distaste. She had spoken with the man once and it was during Viserys and Alicent's wedding. She had not been overly impressed with him other than the fact he had asked her to dance rather than Rhaenyra. "It is no wonder that he has yet to marry."

"I pity the poor woman who marries him," Laena continued with fake sympathy, reaching out to gently run her fingers across the petals of a daisy they passed by.

The Velaryon girl then turned to Rhaella, raising an eyebrow expectantly at her. "And what of you? What did you and Daemon discuss last night?"

"How do you know that we've discussed anything?"

Laena gave her a look, and Rhaella turned her gaze back to the gardens around her. Her eyebrows rose curiously when she caught sight of Lord Larys Strong, younger brother of Ser Harwin. He stood along the outskirts of the garden, his cane in his hand. Though his eyes were directed elsewhere, Rhaella got the distinct impression that he was trying to listen to them.

"He is speaking with my father again this morning," Rhaella murmured, turning around and subtly moving herself and Laena away from the lord. Laena smiled widely, squeezing Rhaella's arm tight with her own as she walked along with her.

"I am so excited for you, Rhaella," Laena said sincerely. She stopped walking, causing Rhaella to pause beside her. The two girls stood under a small oak tree, covered by the shadows cast by its large branches and leaves, far from listening ears.

"The way you danced together at the feast...I have never seen anything more beautiful," Laena admitted. "It is like you are meant for each other, and I could not be happier for you, cousin."

"Thank you, Laena," Rhaella said. She stepped forward and gave her cousin a tight hug, hoping to convey how grateful she was for Laena's assuring words. She had been tossing and turning the night before, unable to sleep. Every time she dozed off, visions of green, black, and red dragons filled her mind. They were fighting against each other, and she could only watch in horror as their wings were ripped and their scales burned by the others.