Rhaella Targaryen always knew that there was more behind her mother's death than what she was told. Alysanne was a healthy, strong woman, and yet she was gone in a couple of days because of a mysterious illness. Rhaella was only a child when the tra...
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DRAGONSTONE
132 AC
RHAELLAQUIETLY OBSERVED LUKE, as he was practicing with the sword on his own. She would have gladly joined him, if she didn't have to take care of Joffrey for a bit. The boy was a sweet kid, but he was twice a troublemaker. She had no doubt he would try to run off to the shore if she looked away for a moment.
They went to the beach because Rhaella was aware of how much Joffrey loved it ― it was in his Velaryon genes, people said. Rhaella doubted it, but it was great to know that people saw it in that way. It was safe, for him and his brothers. Rhaella was not a fool and since she was a kid she noticed how different the Velaryon boys looked from their father, Laenor. And it wasn't just in the black hair, which could have come from their Baratheon descent ― Princess Rhaenys was half Baratheon after all. It wasn't until the Accident at Driftmark that she truly understood the implications of the accusations moved by Aemond. How dangerous could it be for all of them, if they turned out to be true.
Rhaella didn't care. She loved them ― Jace, Luke, Joffrey ― whether they had Velaryon blood or not. And she loved Rhaenyra. They were her safe space, her family. And if Ser Harwin was really the man who fathered Rhaenyra's first three children, Rhaella couldn't be upset. Ser Harwin was one of the greatest man she had ever known, and his death had brought a great loss to the realm. If there were more people out there like him ― people who shared his kind heart and brave soul ― Rhaella couldn't be anything but happy.
The trip to the beach was not something planned. The weather wasn't the best ― the sky was covered in grey clouds and the wind was blowing strongly. However, Rhaella had reckoned that it was the best idea to keep Joffrey calm, at least for a bit.
Rhaenyra was in labor. Or, at least, she was expected to be. The pregnancy had already lasted longer than it was supposed to, therefore the Maesters and Rhaneyra's maidens had been trying to induce the labor with different methods for about a week. Nothing seemed to be working, though, and Rhaenyra didn't feel anything if not some irregular pain in the womb. But Rhaenyra knew what real contractions were, and they certainly weren't it.
Joffrey had developed a new kind of attachment towards his mother, especially in the last few months of her pregnancy. When Aegon was born, he was still too young to understand that he would get a sibling but now, at six years old, he knew that there was going to be another baby in the house, and he wasn't very fond of the idea. Mainly because he remembered how often Aegon would cry as a newborn and didn't want to repeat the experience now that the two year old boy was a little bit grown up. Rhaella also suspected that it was partially because he was afraid the baby would steal his spotlight and he would get less attention from his mother. It was a reasonable thought, for a six year old. But Joffrey had nothing to be afraid. Rhaenyra loved all of her children equally and never once lost the chance to show it to them.
