Dragon Princess || Aegon II Targaryen

𝖢𝗁𝖺𝗉𝗍𝖾𝗋 9

Rhaenys had never been so bored in her life. In fact, she wouldn't be surprised if her soul decided to leave her body and wander the world searching for something more interesting to do.

A needle and thread. Who would have thought that two such small objects could become her greatest enemies?

Stick the needle, pull the thread. Stick the needle, pull the thread. Repeat. Stick the needle, pull the thread. Stick the needle, pull the thread. Repeat.

Could the Gods see her rolling her eyes from above? Septa Elionor certainly could, scolding the young princess countless times. She could only hope that someone would save her from this cruel fate. Who ever said embroidery was a fun activity? Especially in such a silent and profound environment, so immaculate it made her confuse the small room for the Sept.

A dense atmosphere, with only the sounds of the outside world filling it. The sound of life happening, the sound of a world that didn't stop.

Rhaenys had to admit: as tedious as it was, this allowed her to think. Surely, she was doing everything wrong, with every stitch out of place and deforming her work, which would probably lead to Septa Elionor scolding her for the rest of the day. But, in a way, it allowed her to reflect on everything.

It allowed her to reflect on what was happening in the streets, where people hurried about, trying to find ways to ease their lives a little.

In the past year, Rhaenys had learned a lot about the streets of King's Landing. While a mother went to the market to buy what she could to feed her children and husband, someone in the next street could be murdered for need, for vengeance and even for nothing. And two streets down, people who witnessed that murder entered one of the dozens of brothels, completely indifferent to the violence. The same brothels where women and men could earn more coin but kept most of them from having a so-called honored life and families.

Even in misery, there were those who judged.

Those who killed judged those who stole. Those who stole judged those who killed. Those who did not sell their bodies judged those who did, yet they sold their children to fighting rings in exchange of the same coin the first ones made. Everyone trying to survive in that lawless land judged others who did the same. And those who sat on a throne or in councils and could find some way to solve all this didn't even look at them.

Pure madness.

The embroidery also made her think of Jeyne. Jeyne was better off now in the orphanage, yes. With some more shipments of food and water and being protected by the City Watch, under Otto Hightower rules. She could feed her children, herself, and her daughter without having to ration so strictly. She could breathe a bit easier and stop constantly worrying about whatever could ruin even more their lives. She could help and try her best to shield them from the madness that plagued the streets.

The embroidery made her think about her betrothal. A betrothal that was drawing closer to reality. After all, they were only waiting for her first blood to send her to Winterfell. To be honest, Rhaenys wished for that blood to never come. It wasn't that she didn't want to marry someday, but not like this. She didn't want to marry someone she didn't know. And, as honorable as the Starks were and as unlikely as they were to treat her badly, she wished for someone she loved or could come to love, not someone imposed on her regardless of her desires or feelings.

Rhaenys had no say in the matter.

Nowadays, Rhaenys understood that her opinion wouldn't change anything. And, nowadays, she understood that it would have happened even if she didn't try to help Jeyne. Nowadays, she knew it was all manipulation. They would profit from the good image this act would bring them, and Rhaenys wouldn't become a headache, trying to prevent the inevitable.