There were two babes in the Tower of Joy.
Two babes tied so closely to their parents, Ned had to make the decision.
One with hair like raven feathers, eyes as grey as steel, and a face of a true Stark. The other, with hair like moonlight, eyes lik...
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In the days that followed the slaughtering of their people, Rhaenar had withdrawn from Qartheen society and retreated into the comfort of their room. She didn't receive anyone, she refused to speak to those who weren't family, and took it upon herself to think of how they could move past this. She had lost Irri and Doreah, Rakharo and Cohollo, and Haggo. Drogo wept silently for his fallen brothers, taking them as his own personal failure. Rhaenar brushed past him, her fingers gently running across the tips of his shoulders. "We will find out who did this, Drogo."
He nodded, his head falling back slightly. "I know." Rhaenar hovered on the balcony, her eyes meeting Qotho's as she joined him. There were few numbers remaining, maybe 8 at most; Qotho being the only one left of Drogo's bloodriders.
"How is he holding up?" She shook her head before resting it on his shoulder. The pair had become closer in their time racing across the red waste, her gaze constant in search of Qotho if Drogo was no where to be seen. Rhaenar knew she would be safe beside him, that no one could hurt her if either man was closer. They stayed like that for a moment before Dany's pacing figure quickly entered the courtyard, Xaro following close behind.
"I've demanded a meeting of the Thirteen. One of them did this or knows who did." She uttered to Rhaenar before stopping just short of the balcony, Xaro hovering on the stairs.
Rhaenar's jaw clenched as she faced their host. It seemed suspicious that Xaro would help them through the gates of Qarth, opening his home, and offering his money. He knew this would make her vulnerable, that they might need to rely on him. "You are one of the Thirteen."
"If I wanted your dragons, I would have taken them." He tried to offer earnestly, but Rhaenar wasn't so sure. "They mean nothing to me on their own."
Her mouth dropped open, these were her children they were talking about; the first dragons to have awake in centuries. "Nothing? They're more valuable than anything in the world; not just in gold, or materialistic things; but for what they are."
He held up his pendant. "Shall we look inside my vault and see what selling your dragons would buy me I cannot buy already? We will get them back." Perhaps she should.
