『 : ̗̀➛Two parts of a whole, destined to find their second half, and when the sun finally sets on them, the last ember of hope glows in their eyes. ☄. *. ⋆ 』
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The night was late, but Rhegon refused to sleep. He screamed and kicked his legs in protest, his cries echoing through the halls of Dragonestone. Though Daenerys was used to it by now, it did not hurt her any less. She cradled him in her arms, gently rocking him back and forth, hoping to soothe his distress.
"Why do you cry, Rhaegon? Please talk to me," she whispered softly, her voice filled with concern. Rhaegon's tears continued to flow, his tiny body trembling in her embrace.
For the past seven years, not a night had gone by without Rhaegon's cries piercing the silence of Dragonstone. Daenerys had tried everything to comfort him, from singing lullabies to reading him stories, but nothing seemed to ease his troubled sleep. He would always ignore her and scream as if in dire pain.
Her heart would tear every evening. It was a miracle she had any of it anymore.
"Please!" She screamed, looking up. "Make him stop!" Tears streamed down Daenerys' face as she pleaded for relief from her son's torment. "I can't take this any longer! Just make him stop, ease his pain! I beg you!"
Where were the gods when she needed them? Where her mother's whisper in the air? Maybe Daemon was right—maybe there was no Seven after all.
Seven years she waited, and seven years she got.
Rhaegon stopped. The room fell silent as Rhaegon's screams abruptly ceased. But he didn't fall asleep. As she opened her eyes to look at him, he was already staring back at her, his eyes wide and full of terror. "Mama..." he whispered weakly, his voice barely audible. Such an unsusal thing—for the boy to speak—but he did that night, making his mother worry more. Then he was thrown back into bed. His body shook violently, his eyes rolled back.
"Rheagon!" she screamed. Desperately, she shook his arm, trying to wake him. "Help! Someone, please help!" She cried out, her voice filled with panic.
He continued to shake, his eyes moving left to right in rapid, uncontrollable movements. He couldn't scream this time, but he wasn't quiet either. He was choking.
The doors opened, servants must have heard Daenerys. "Princess?" Asked one of the young girls.
"Help!" She screamed, trying to get her boy to calm down.
"Princess!" A familiar voice called. Tanya stepped into the room. Terrified of the scene before her, she looked at Daenerys with wide eyes, asking for an explanation.
"Tanya! Help..." sobbed Daenerys, looking at her son. "D- Daemon..." she mumbled.
Tanya nodded and left, immediately knowing what she had to do.
.
.
.
.
.
By the time Daemon made it to the room, everything was quiet. Rhaegon was unconscious and unmoving, lying in his bed. His usual ill-skinned face was covered in sweat, his eyes with something that could very well be tears.
Daenerys sat by his bed. She seemed to be in her own trance, lost in her thoughts and worries. The room was filled with a heavy silence, broken only by the soft sound of Daenerys's sniffles and mumbles.
Daemon seemed scared to enter, reluctantly waiting at the door frame. He watched as Daenerys gently brushed Rhaegon's hair away from his forehead, her hand trembling. Daemon's heart ached at the sight, torn between wanting to comfort his sister and fearing what he might find if he approached closer.
Slowly, he took a few steps closer, then sat down beside her, not saying a word.
"My fault... my fault... my fault..." she continued to mutter.
"No," he told her.
"My fault..."
He turned to look at his son. Rhaegon's face was pale, and his breathing was shallow. But he was breathing.
"My fault..."
"What is?" Daemon asked.
"My fault!" She screamed. Daemon's heart sank as he watched his sister's anguish consume her. He reached out to gently take her trembling hands in his, but she pushed him away. "I did this to him! My fault!"
"Did what?" he asked more firmly now. "What happened to Rhaegon?" he demanded.
"I asked them to stop it... I didn't know... I just wanted him to shut up..." she cried.
"Who Daenerys?"
"Gods."
Daemon stopped. He could see the guilt and regret in her eyes, and he realised the weight of her confession. The truth hit him like a punch to the gut, leaving him speechless. "Dae..."
"I thought they were taking him..." she sobbed. "I thought they were taking my boy away... And... I asked them to..."
Daemon reached for her hand again, but instead, she fell into his embrace, sobbing violently. He held her tightly, his heart breaking for the pain she was feeling.
"I sent my boy to the Stranger..." she whispered, her voice choked with sorrow. "I didn't know... I didn't know..."
"Sh sh sh..." Daemon whispered soothingly, his voice filled with empathy. "I told you already. The Seven are bullshit forced on us to believe in by fanatics in order to control and manipulate. It is all a lie."
"If only you'd seen what I have seen tonight..."
Both of them turned to Rhaegon, sleeping peacefully in his bed. He seemed to be dreaming of void — his expression was numb. The boy's petite chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm as he slept.
The gods didn't save him the night he was born. They claimed him, made him their own.
Rheagon the stranger. Rhaegon the dream. The prince who was promised or the boy by the stream?
