green lies, black hearts

XXIX

a/n - officially over 300k words! my longest fic ever! and we're only halfway done *~* anyways, enjoy!

- mint

~+~

Rhaenyra

Rhaenyra stood, watching the fire, and cradled her empty womb. The flames licked at the air, devouring it and turning it to smoke. Smoke on the sea. Seasmoke.

"What're you thinking?" Daemon asked over her shoulder, wrapping an arm over her stomach and pulling her into him. Into the warmth they both burned with. She leaned her head against his.

"Seasmoke."

"What about him?"

"Laenor."

Daemon made a noncommittal sound. "We could send word to him," he said, "if war breaks out."

Rhaenyra nodded. "We need to tell Rhaenys and Corlys." It was a gamble, one she wasn't sure they should or could take, but not only did Laenor's parents deserve to know their son was alive and well, but his children did as well. "Our sons and daughters should know too. But only our family," she said, turning to face Daemon, resting a hand on his chest.

(Daemon wasn't sure he agreed, but who was he to argue with his queen?)

Firelight lit up his features and he silently acquiesced. His hand gently wrapped around the side of her neck, tilting her head so he could slot their lips together. Rhaenyra's hand tightened into a fist over his fine vestments, and she breathed Daemon in. She parted her lips for him. For her. To take and take and take what he always gave her. His love. His fire. His loyalty. He was hers and she was his. She was his queen, he her protector. Her sword.

They pressed their foreheads together, and Rhaenyra inhaled shakily. "I cannot see this realm burn before I get the chance to sit the throne," she confessed to him and him alone. If the realm was nothing, who would protect against the threat in the north? A thought she had not given weight to in years.

"It won't."

A Valyrian steel dagger with a dragon-bone hilt. High Valyrian inscribed upon the metal, only visible when introduced to fire.

"Daemon."

"Hmm?"

"Do you believe in prophecy?"

He stared at her through his lashes, not releasing her neck nor pulling away. He simply stood there and held her tight against him. "Why do you ask?"

Not once had she told a soul what her father conveyed to her. She had gone to him in King's Landing, on her own before she made her case for Lucerys' rights, and she cried for the prophecy. For the woman her father needed her to be. For the queen the realm would need her to be. For the mother she thought her children deserved, not whatever it was she played at now-though she knew her children loved her dearly; she just wished she was better. She wished she was smarter.

"Aegon's dream of The Long Night," she rasped, shaking in her confession. "The Long Night is coming; I don't know when, but this realm must stand strong when the winds blow down from beyond The Wall, bringing the dead with it. And us..." She pulled him closer, and she thought her eyes were wide with madness. With desperation. But Daemon did not look away. He couldn't, not when she needed him to listen. She needed someone to listen for the first time in her life. "From my blood come the prince that was promised, and his will be the song of ice and fire."

Silence. Silence save for the crackling of flames and the breathing shared between the two royals. Until finally, Daemon's grip flexed, and he pulled Rhaenyra's face into his neck, wrapping her up in his embrace. Turning both of their faces towards the fire.