The Dragon Of Harrenhal - H.S.

Dragon-blooded

Six months later

"They do not regard me." Rhaenyra complained, sitting with her sister in her bed as the pair shared some bread and cheese. "Father has asked me to accompany me to his council meeting and still, I am but a cup bearer."

"Rhaenyra..." Daella sighed quietly, popping a piece of cheese into her mouth as she laid across her sister on her four-poster bed. "You are father's heir. The first woman to ascend the throne soon enough. You must understand that is not the norm of the men in that council. Much less considering the thoughts and opinions of a woman."

"I understand." Rhaenyra groaned. "But father should listen to me at least."

"You know father." Daella shrugged. "He's a conciliator. He'd rather avoid conflict, by any means necessary."

"Lord Corlys is angry with him because of this." Rhaenyra said. "Because he does not want to start a war in the Steps Stones."

"It is a delicate matter." Daella said. "If father starts a war there, he'll start a war with the Free Cities. And the Free Cities have a lot of resources."

"But father has dragon riders." Rhaenyra argued, to which Daella stopped spreading cheese on her piece of bread to lift her eyes at her sister instead.

"Was that the idea you gave the small council and that they dismissed?" She asked, causing Rhaenyra to shrug.

"He does." She insisted. "He has me, and Daemon and Laenor Velaryon... And lord Corlys seems ready to take his fleet over there to help as well."

"Mayhaps." Daella shrugged, sitting up properly on her bed to look at Rhaenyra straight in the eye as she dropped her piece of bread for a moment. "But father has just named you heir. He won't risk your life like this."

"Why not?" Rhaenyra groaned. "If I'm gone, you're heir."

"Do not say that again." Daella cut her eyes at her sister as Rhaenyra sighed. "You are the first born. It is your right. Your responsibility. And if you recall it, I've sworn my loyalty to you. So no taking it back now."

At her words, Rhaenyra smiled, reaching over the board of bread in between them to squeeze Daella's hand in hers in a silent thank you.

"I just wished father would listen to me." Rhaenyra admitted quietly as Daella squeezed her hand back. "I want him to see me as more than his little girl."

"I suppose the language of girls might be a bit too difficult for him." Daella shrugged. "I can barely recall the last time we had a proper conversation, father and I."

"He misses you, you know?" Rhaenyra said, as Daella frowned. "Father. He confessed to me after a Small Council meeting a few days ago. He says he thinks the last time you two talked was before mother died."

"I suppose he's right." Daella sighed, looking away from Rhaenyra and down at her lap. "I suppose I have been avoiding him to some extent."

"I am not entirely blameless on this matter either." Rhaenyra admitted. "Father and I only ever talk at the meetings - and even then, barely."

"Mayhaps we should make an effort to remedy this situation then." Daella said.

"Mayhaps." Rhaenyra nodded, reaching for another piece of cheese that she popped into her mouth before smirking at her sister as she laid down across from her on her bed. "Though I'm not entirely sure he'll be too pleased with me once he hears who I chose for a post on my guard."

"Not a member of any of the big houses, I assume?" Daella raised an eyebrow at her sister with a playful smile of her own.

"Ser Criston Cole." Rhaenyra admitted with a laugh, smiling brightly when Daella laughed back.

"No, I don't think father will be too pleased." She said, laughing harder when Rhaenyra just shrugged smirking wildly.

Reckless, fiery, dragon-blooded Rhaenyra Targeryen. That was who her sister was. And Daella knew it, as well as their father did. In a way, it was not surprising he would not let her fly on Syrax to help at the Step Stones. The gods only knew the kind of damage she could do there. Especially if she teamed up with Daemon Targaryen of all people.