twin flames | daemon targaryen

thirty-one

The day Rhaella gave birth to her youngest children was well-documented in the histories hidden within the Citadel's numerous libraries. It would be spoken of for hundreds of years, the tale of the events that occurred that day reaching even across the Narrow Sea to the Free Cities.

Rhaella's labors started in the early morning hours, waking both her and Daemon just as the moon began to descend toward the horizon. With just one look at his wife's pained expression and the wet sheets that lay beneath her, Daemon raced out of their chambers to find the maester.

Rhaella remained on the bed by herself, her hands clenching around her contracting stomach as a chill ran down her spine. Something was different in the world around her, but she could not understand what. She could hear Gaelith's call from somewhere on the beaches of Driftmark, her she-dragon also feeling the energy that seemed to hum in the air.

Her dreams that night had been bloody and gory, filled with visions of dragons dying that she had seen since her youth. Vhagar, Caraxes, Sunfyre, Arrax...Their haunting cries echoed in her ears, filling her stomach with ice-cold dread as always. That night, though, other events in her dreams had been different.

Instead of seeing Meleys fall to the ground in a burning ball of flames as she had a thousand times before, she saw a black dragon swoop in and shield the Red Queen from the flames, directing her away from Vhagar's looming, threatening figure.

Instead of seeing the Dragonpit swarmed and dragons slaughtered in their caves, she saw Vermithor and Silverwing set atop the famed dome building, staring down at the onlookers armed with swords and crossbows with piercing eyes.

She watched as a black, hulking dragon with bright green eyes and a horned nose stared at where she sat on Gaelith's saddle high in the sky. It was a dragon she had seen only once before in passing at Dragonstone, a dragon whose cry pierced fear into the hearts of all who heard it. Dark red blood dripped from his mouth, a sharp contrast to the smiling, white-haired young girl sitting atop his back.

A scream echoed behind her and she turned in her saddle to see an enormous purple dragon flying towards her from behind, an identical white-haired girl sitting atop its back. Following the purple dragon was Seasmoke, his pale silver scales glistening like diamonds under the sun.

As Rhaella peered at the dragon of her lost cousin, she noticed a figure on its back. A figure with familiar curled hair and a bright, wide smile, and her entire body buzzed with excitement at the sight of him.

"Lae—"

"AAHH!"

And then she woke, clutching at her stomach as pain rippled through her lower back, her heart aching in her chest from all she had seen. Her mind was running rampant, leaving her unaware of how Daemon had raced from the room to find the maester.

When Daemon returned minutes after running out of the room in a panic, he found Rhaella on the bed on all fours, muttering to herself nonsensically in High Valyrian, her eyes wide with panic.

"Rhaella!" Rhaenys exclaimed, stepping past Daemon to rush to her daughter's side. At the sound of the older woman's voice, Rhaella's head popped up. She stared at them for a second, struggling to connect the dots as to who they were. When she recognized them all moments later, she leaned readily into Rhaenys's waiting arms.

"Sweet girl," Rhaenys murmured soothingly into Rhaella's ear, letting the pregnant woman rock in her arms as she dealt with another contraction. Rhaella let out a pained groan, her arm shooting out to grip Daemon's hand for support. The Rogue Prince winced at the strength of his wife's grip, but did not complain, letting her do what she needed to.