rhaenaspearls - Tumblr blog

[rhaenaspearls]

Half of My Heart

(A starter for @moondancer-rp)

Rhaena had always been a habitually early riser, one of the many juxtapositions between herself and her twin, Baela; ever since the Dragon Twins were small, their father had joked, "If Rhaena rises with the sun, then Baela is roused by the bells for lunch." It was hyperbole, to be sure, but then again, so many of the perceived opposite ends of each twin's personality were once anyone cared enough to look past the surface. Rhaena preferred bright colors, and Baela dark, Rhaena would rather embroider while Baela played cards, an early riser compared to late, even one's hair was dark, while the other's was Targaryen silver.

That was only the surface, however, because from the moment of their first spark of life, to now twenty years on, there was no company the Dragon Twins favored more than one another. Whether it was Baela sitting through hours of gowns and cosmetics just to spend the time with her sister or Rhaena as her twin's ever enthusiastic accomplice to her practical jokes, what they did rarely mattered as long as they were doing it together; though, since Rhaena claimed Good Queen Alysanne's former mount, Silverwing, four years ago, both were in firm agreement there was no better activity to share than flying amongst the clouds.

As the early riser, it was common for Rhaena to wake her sister by jumping on the end of her bed, with breakfast in tow, and their day's agenda already fully formulated and regimented in her mind, and this morning was no different...well, mostly. "Morning Mandia!!" She spoke brightly as on entering Baela's chambers, pointed to a clear table for the two maids following close behind her to put the breakfast trays stocked with all their combined favorites, and then plunked down on the edge of the dark crimson duvet. The day before her sister had explained the plan she had been formulating to treat with many of their Kingdom's young heirs in order to strengthen bonds and alliances to create the best possible start for all of them in their new Queen's reign.

As was the case for so many of their contrasting interests and talents, Rhaena and Baela were two halves of one whole when it came to the machinations of court and the intersection of the precise science and complex art that was excelling in politics. Her sister was practical, intuitive, equipped with a better view of big picture matters could ever dream to have, and a fast learner of every lesson their stepmother Rhaenyra and their grandmother Rhaenys had to teach; Rhaena, in turn, was charming and sociable, a master in the details, and had a special knack for knowing exactly what the person in front of her wanted to hear. Alone, the Dragon Twins were a talented strategist and a dazzling socialite, but together, they were quickly becoming the greatest political force Westeros had seen since the reign of Queens Visenya and Rhaenys.

"So! I was thinking about our conversation last night, and about all these plans for strengthening all alliances, once again, masterful, I meant it when I said this may be your most ingenious idea to date! And you know any and everything you might need for your meetings all you need do is ask, I'll be waiting eagerly for which you'd like me to attend, but you know the last thing I want is to get in your way." Rhaena had frequently absented herself from the most technical and strategic political matters so important to their family, she would only be one more cook in the kitchen, and her talents mainly laid in a different set of pursuits, but there was nothing in this world she would rather spend her time doing than supporting her twin in whatever way she may need. "While you start to build these foundations, though, I had some ideas about how to get us all working better together. At least one garden party seems a sensible place to start, and it seems worthwhile to coordinate a day's hunt as well, especially to please our young Stark and Tully envoys, but really our key goal ought to be working towards coordinating an event to honor our Ladies and another for our Lords, and before that, figuring out what kind of event will go over best for each!"

Then, the younger twin paused, sitting back on her heels, and looked at her sister intently as she giggled softly, "All that said, what's been on your mind lately?"

[rhaenaspearls]

Rhaena had been anxious all morning, so anxious in fact, that she had not been able to keep her mind on any one single thing the whole morning and was now rushing to be late. She had made plans for tea with her cousin, Princess Rhaenya, a couple of days ago, when it had become fully clear that the Queen would make a full recovery, and what her Muna truly needed from everyone was time. Time being the one thing Rhaena had now run out of in her ceaseless bouncing from one half-finished task to another for the past couple of hours.

"Are you quite sure you'll be alright taking charge of all four of the middle girls?" She pressed her longest-serving Lady-in-Waiting, and childhood best friend—not that the relationship had tempered much at all with age—Lady Lacey Vance, the eldest daughter of her step-mother's equally longest serving companion, Lady Roslin Vance (neé Strong).

"Truly!" Lacey soothed, hanging in the doorway where she had stood for the past fifteen minutes after Rhaena became too frenetic in the last piece-meal parts left of getting ready to actually accept help. "All they wish to do is sew or draw and exchange last moon's gossip, you know I'd take all four over just Aemma and her new little Hightower minion."

"They're five," Rhaena laughed as she brushed aside a few of her braids to pin the backs on freshwater pearl earrings that matched the chain hanging closely around her neck, "The eleven year olds are mean."

"Leyla bites," Lacey countered, only to make her companion laugh once more.

"Then let us hope she bites her Auntie-Queen-Dowager next and spares my fingers," With her earrings and shoes finally on Rhaena walked towards the door herself, pressed a brief kiss to Lacey's cheek, and assured, "I'll see you at dinner." As the pair saw each other off down different splits in the hall leading away from her chambers.

As Rhaena walked towards her cousin's chambers, however, the anxiety that had been driving her in every direction all morning finally reached its apex, twisting her stomach into knots. They had not gotten a chance to speak alone, not privately at least, since before the night of the old King's funeral and all the chaos that closed out such an already emotionally-charged night. She would have to tell Rhaenya now, though, about the pink-sapphire courting necklace pointedly left back on her vanity, and exactly who gave it to her...exactly who's eye socket she now makes daily attempts to not think about it fitting in. Rhaena had to tell her because of how much she knew it was sting if Rhaenya were to find out from anyone else, or worse yet, in the middle of a crowded room; for all the reasons they had been close since they were children and all the slights both had been made to bear from her middle brother since they were just as young.

The newly-titled Princess' worries were quickly shoved to the back of her mind, however, with the accompanying movement of her cousin grabbing her in a hug and squealing in delight at her presence. Slipping back into charming excitement felt nearly as easy as breathing, if everyone had an underlying aspect of themselves as some amongst The Faith used to explain away all manner of personal incongruities, Rhaena was sure this good-natured giddiness was hers, and she allowed herself to relax into it as Rhaenya led her over to one of the chaise lounge's in front of a tea-table piled high with all manner of small-yet-lavish snacks and deserts and exclaimed that she had news of her own.

Rhaena nodded eagerly, and then listened with considerable effort into focusing on Rhaenya's words for a fair-few minutes, all the while the gears turning in the back of her mind returned to their anxiety-fueled overdrive as she attempted to figure out how best to broach the matter causing all this worry in the first place, if only so then it would finally stop.

"Speaking of, unexpected developments in courtships," Rhaena paused momentarily, leaning into all her years of training on how to put delicate matters, well, as delicately as possible. "I imagine you noticed just as much as everyone else that Aemond's looked—been a bit...different, the past few weeks. And it's all really a rather long story I won't go too far into unless you wish, but...but he's asked to court me, and I said yes." She shook her head slightly, "You know I've had nearly twenty marriage proposals and not a single one of them had ever lent me more time than a dance or two before sending the ultimate yes-or-no note?" She laughed softly, and then took Rhaenya's hands in her own, her tone taking on a comforting note as she concluded, "But I wanted to tell you more than anything else because—because I told him if another cruel thing about you, or any of your own siblings, and even any of mine, escaped his lips again I would agree marry Lord Piper's heir instead. I suppose I wished to tell you because I never want there to be a moment in either of our lives where you believe I would Court anyone whilst they were cruel towards you, anymore than Baela, or Joff, or even Aemma." She couldn't help but giggle once more at her last example, "He's had to do rather a lot of apologizing for the latter, it's been quite entertaining."

a starter for @rhaenaspearls

“Lover Boys,”

Rhaenya was dressed. slightly purple dress and it was scene that she was quite happier than she usually was. There was something about the princess that had changed.

She was seen around the court with Cregan Stark, the Lord of Winterfell and she was never seen happier. Maids and ladies have noticed the differences in her dresses, less hems to fix.

The Princess smiled happily as she waited for her cousin’s arrival. She waited. knowing they would have loads to talk about. She was quite the talker.

She had been so excited to meet Rhaena that the Princess herself had forgotten even get change.

“Elaena!” she called out, the half sister of Cregan Stark, and Rhaenya’s head lady in waiting

“I’m here!” She called out, as she put the rag down that she was using. Elaena liked to clean things, even if it wasn’t her duty.

“Two things… Have the sweets been delivered?” The princess looked up at the lady.

Elaena’s red hair and blue eyes nodded, “Yes they have, in fact they are on that table,”

Rhaenya nodded before she got onto the second problem, “Second, I am not ready… and Rhaena will be here any second!”

The red head looked at the princess, she sighed. “Are being serious? ELINOR!”

Lady Elinor rushed to the side as she viewed the scene. “Our princess is not ready!”

Elinor grabbed two dresses, baby blue and purple, and Rhaenya immediately pointed at the purple dress. This immediately got the inspiration of what the ladies had to do in a short amount of time.

Rhaenya stood still in her place as Elinor started to braid her hair and pin it back into place. While she put the french hood onto her head. She fixed the vail and made sure it fit nicely with the outfit.

Elaena finished up her dress as she brought up a chain and gently helped it around her waist and it made an illusion of splitting the dress.

Rhaenya turned around and thanked her ladies for their work. “Thank you!”

“I see why my brother had his eyes on you,” Elaena joked looking at the princess.

As she admired herself in the mirror again as her eyes looked up at Elaena. Her face turned bright red… “Stop it…”

Elaena smirked and she laughed at her friend, as she reached over and kissed her cheek. There was a silence, before the door knocked.

Rhaenya rushed over quickly, no one had ever seen her run so fast. The excitement of seeing Rhaena was driving her crazy. She felt like she hadn't see her in ages.

Not to mention the pink of everything, she needed to see Rhaena at the moment. Rhaenya opened the door, and before Rhaena could quite literally say anything she threw her arms over her.

"I HAVE MISSED YOU SO MUCH!" she cried holding her so close to her. She probably suffocated the Princess Rhaena.

She immediately brought her in before Rhaena could even catch her breath. The crazy princess sat her down and she looked at her cousin. "I have so much to tell you!"

[rhaenaspearls]

After the chaos, exhaustion, and intense emotion than consumed the first twenty-four hours after the attempt on their new Queen’s life, the next day was oddly, eerily quiet. With all the youngest children of her own family, Lacey, Cerelle, Anya, and their own respective little sisters to look after and manage, the events of the funeral feast had a cushion of chaos to break their impact on her nervous system. Rhaena could handle chaos, she was used to it, and not just that, but good at it; the calmly quiet aftermath of catastrophe was harder than any cheering comfort she may need to provide to scared ladies or gentle order she may have to impose on screaming children. Dressing was a difficulty, as it had been for all the days between the late King’s death and his funeral. She had hoped that with the funeral passed she could, at least, skirt around the edges of propriety by returning to some of the muted and less lavish gowns in her usual, light purples and pinks. Now she did not know when, or—the word yanked at the back of her mind like a pair of talons digging into prey—if, such a thing would be appropriate for weeks or even moons to come.

No amount of agonizing could truly help the matter, Rhaena could not worry herself a wide selection of mourning gowns, so she settled on a peach colored one with white embroidery, tied her braids away from her face, and went without jewelry for the day. It was another that would be spent watching her youngest siblings, Baelon and Aemma. Joffrey had spent most of the day before watching the former, alongside Princes Jaehaerys and Viserys, and the pair switched off today, with her brother taking charge of Visenya alongside her two older brothers, leaving Rhaena with the littles. Breakfast was a relatively easy affair, both her brother and sister had gotten dressed with their nursemaids and the meal without fuss; but as soon as plates were cleared away, and the conversation turned from how the pair had slept to what they were going to do to occupy the day it became clear things were not going to remain simple.

Baelon immediately began begging to play outside, no matter how many ways she attempted to explain that wasn’t possible because it was down-pouring, much less the technicalities of what a sealed castle meant to an eight year old. Aemma was equally insistent that she wanted to play hide and seek, which was somewhat more doable, but Rhaena knew both would grow bored of the game quickly with only three participants…never mind how her baby sister was still only a fortnight out from getting accidentally kicked in the head as a result of her eagerness for the game. She left the nursery just for a moment, with her siblings at least temporarily happy in the care of a few nursemaids and Aemma’s nanny, Lily, praying she may find something, or someone to help entertain them while her own mind was still reeling with petty worries that masked potentially earth-shattering anxieties. Only a few strides down the hall however, her newest crop of worries were interrupted by the voice of her stepmother’s newest lady-in-waiting, Lady Sabitha Frey.

“Your Highness…I’m sure she’ll recover.”

Rhaena offered a small curtsy in greeting, followed by a small, comforting smile in response to the kind words. She could do this, curtesies and charitable conversation, it was natural, easy. “That’s very kind of you, My Lady. I pray for the same, and I’m sure you’ll be proven right, Her Grace has been through much and more than this. Now we must simply do what we can to afford her the time to recover.” The offer for help, however, sent the gears in her mind spinning over-time, an offer for help…or a solution to her most pressing problem. “Perhaps we might be able to assist each other in a way,” her smile widened alongside the proposition. “Your son, Theo, is five if I’m right? I’ve taken charge the youngest Prince and Princess today, they’ve been eager for a playmate, and in truth I’ve been nearly of eager for an extra pair of hands to manage everything. Would you like to bring him to play in the nursery here and spend the morning together? I know he’s had some concerns over his health, and Baelon and Aemma are both used to being gentler around other children with difficulties since they’ve grown up alongside our sweet Visenya.” Rhaena offered another charming smile before concluding, “And as the saying goes, everything is more enjoyable with company!”

The Red Keep, 129 AC. With: @rhaenaspearls

Sabitha was oddly calmed that morning. She had barely slept for a few hours, so maybe her tranquility was in fact just fatigue. Any screams during the feast were just echoes now. Sabitha composed herself. A long day was waiting for her. She had woken up early into the morning and gotten herself ready before her husband woke up. Dress in a black gown, her hair was neatly braided; a simple white ribbon decorating it. The first day after the Queen's poisoning was the most important one, it would decide if the court would crumble or stand together. It would decide if she could be useful as a Lady in waiting.

Everyone was focused on the Queen's health, her condition was still unknown to Sabitha. As her newest lady in waiting, she didn't feel close enough to visit the Queen's chambers and ask about her recovery herself. Instead, Sabitha opted to help in her household affairs. It was a task she felt more comfortable and prepared for. Sabitha decided to start with something she was confident with.

Queen Rhaenyra's youngest was the same age as her son Theo. Sabitha accompanied the little ones the night before and happened to be the one closest to them when the chaos unfolded. She tried —and failed— to calm them. Sabitha was a new face; no matter how kind she could be with the children, she was still a stranger. She helped escort them to their chambers, but Lady Elinda was the one who stayed with them during the night. Sabitha tried to sleep alongside her husband. Forrest was more successful in that regard than her. The sun was already out as Sabitha walked towards the Tower of the Hand where the princesses and princes resided.

She was unsure which child might need her help, she doubted if they would even accept her. « Someone has to take care of them. They have their nannies, tutors and nursemaids, but will it be enough? With the lockdown everyone will be anxious. Any help would be appreciated... or would they look at me in suspicion? » She was so focused on her thoughts that she almost missed Princess Rhaena walking across the hallway. Sabitha stopped walking and bowed.

—Your highness, is there anything I can help you with? I know today must be suffocating right now. The Queen is strong. I'm sure she'll recover.

Her words may not give her much comfort, but Sabitha hoped the thought helped a little bit.

[rhaenaspearls]

Rhaena was unsure whether she was more nervous or excited that her grandmother had requested to speak as the night was beginning to wind down, though that was more frequently than not how she felt any time Princess Rhaenys provided her with an opportunity for her undivided attention. The Lady of The Tides’ presence, influence, and legacy all loomed large in her life, and Rhaena was endlessly grateful—at times even indulgent—in that, just as much as she still felt intimidated by it. There had been so much to attend to, and so much happening as her stepmother’s coronation grew ever closer, that for the rest of the night a litany of possibilities as to what her Lady-Grandmother wished to discuss slowly began to drown out all other thoughts in her mind. 

Once the night had fully wound down, she said her goodnights, ensured her little siblings had escorts back to their rooms, and then set off to fulfill her grandmother's request as her speculation reached fever pitch. There were the numerous events and festivities that Rhaena had either helped coordinate or planned herself, that had just passed or were soon to come, and Rhaena gave immense credit to Rhaenys' opinions and critiques on how she performed such tasks in her development of the skill. Though it could be more personal, familial, some problem to address or praise to reward—though it was almost always closer to a combination of both—amongst the many members and ever-shifting relationships within their family. Not to mention, with the coronation growing ever-closer there were the half dozen marriage proposals she'd set aside to consider seriously left waiting since the King died, and she did not actually know how the status and prospects of any of them may have changed with her own accompanying change in station.

Then it finally hit her, why the invitation had most likely been elicited tonight, at a formal dinner where Aemond had still managed to make her giggle, and the pink sapphire necklace he'd given her as a courting gift hung in pride of place at the dip of her throat. She'd discussed the matter already—at least somewhat—with her Muna, and she knew Aemond and her father had exchanged heated words—though not what had actually been said—but he had not forbade, or even cautioned her at all, against seeing him; neither men had even mentioned to her that they had spoken at all despite four days passing since the confrontation.

Rhaena had expected to find Princess Rhaenys in her chambers. Most likely in the private withdrawing room between her grandparent's large, more public, solar and their bedroom, that was always outfitted in an equal mix of Targaryen and Velaryon finery and served as the backdrop for many of her most meaningful memories. She did not have to go as far as the Velaryon's private tower this time, however, discovering her grandmother enjoying the fresh air and evening breeze on a balcony not far from the main hall. "Lady-Grandmother!" She offered a small curtsy, knowing full well neither formality was a personal expectation between them, but doing so anyway because she did with everyone—even the closest members of her family—as courtesy had always come naturally to her, and using it to express the intersection of her respect and her love, served as an easy yet meaningful shorthand.

Then her tone relaxed, adding "Mumuña!" and placed a peck on her cheek as she took a seat beside her, offered a small smile, and asked, "You wished to see me? With all the chaos since your most recent arrival I realized we haven't had the chance to speak privately since last I was on Driftmark. It feels like there haven't been nearly enough hours in the day as of late to tend to everything we need and want." Rhaena paused momentarily to enjoy the feeling of the breeze against her cheeks before finishing, "But you know I have few greater joys than your presence; I've been looking forward to having some time together all evening, so, what did you wish to discuss?"

Nothing escapes your Grandmother

Rhaenys had always been good at noticing details about the people around her. Friend and foe. At times it was not a blessing, but when it came to protecting her family, Rhaenys used what she observed to do what was needed.

Dinner had been a drawn out affair, as it often was when the family was gathered. Not quite a feast, but still a joyous evening. She had noticed the not-quite-so-hidden-stolen-glances between Rhaena and Aemond all throughout the meal, which brought back memories of her own youthful flirtation with the Heir to Driftmark. She had said nothing, curious to what was playing out in front of her.

“Rhaena, come see me before you retire for the night?” She requested softly of her granddaughter as she walked past her, leaving the table as the meal concluded.

Rhaenys retreated to the south facing balcony with a goblet of wine. She placed the goblet on the bannister before she leaned against it and let the breeze run through her hair, easing her mind after a long day. She inhaled deeply and slowly, missing the scent of the sea, the salt, the seaweed; already longing home for High Tide. For a moment she was tempted to venture down to the dragon pit and fly out into the darkening sky on Meleys, but that would require another bath and the hour was already growing late.

—-

A starter for @rhaenaspearls

[rhaenaspearls]

The time that passed between fleeing the Red Keep’s Grand Hall and ending up back in Aemond’s chambers was surreal and incomprehensible, a waking nightmare, where the only thing that grounded Rhaena was Aemond roughly carrying her away from everything and everyone that mattered in her life; which was once again falling to pieces as the ground was ripped out from under her, all monumentally more chaotically, and terrifyingly, than when the King died, still only four days ago. She was cursing, screaming, crying, sobbing, but she couldn’t comprehend the words spilling off her lips, much less what she intended them to mean, any more than he seemed to register that she was making any sound at all. Suddenly, they were in his chambers, and Aemond was barricading the door as he fussed over the logistics of the safest places to shelter from the worst of this storm, seemingly too busy to notice the distress of the past several minutes had reduced her to gasping, choked sobs, and uncontrollable shaking on his comparatively austere mattress to her plush, blush-pink, bed where she wished to be more than anything right now.

"Are you all right? You didn't have any of that particular wine right?! I know you're not a fan of reds, but you also follow every rule of society there seems to be.”

The concern that had finally seeped into his tone strangely calmed her, the softness of his gaze, and the faint blush that spread across his cheeks, as if he’d only just realized where they were, soothed her anxiety even more. But then, for a brief moment, her fear came roaring back, and she was terrified this was all an act; she was a prize so many wanted, the power of a Princess for a wife, the power of Valyrian, of dragon-rider, heirs, one Aemond had seemed to have decided he wanted, and the only one who did, who had already exhibited enough boldness to conceivably use the night’s confusion to his advantage, deny her virtue, jeopardize her reputation, and get the answer others had waited on for months all in three days work. As soon as she had the thought, however, she knew it was a ludicrous fear, because to all the Prince was capable of, he could not act to save his skin. If nothing else, she was certain of that, and the realization comforted her more than anything else his concern, his fear, his care, was earnest, finally convinced her to agree to his assertion she should stay.

Rhaena spoke in a choked, quiet tone, explaining, “Yes, yes I imagine you’re right, and I doubt it would be safe to move again after coming here. I didn’t have any of that wine though…I was drinking whatever they had diluted for the children tonight…trying to keep a clear head. I—I imagined I was either going to have to see the littles off to bed…or make sure none of my brothers over-indulged and caused an embarrassment…honestly I was expecting both.” Then she looked down at her gown, the day’s silver-lining, another panicked guest had clearly stepped on the skirt, tearing it to above her knee, and the awareness of her garments at all suddenly made her extremely eager to be rid of her stays, the fabric against her skin at all causing her to become overwhelmed, and the realization about her gown nearly bringing her back to tears again. She barely managed to ask, “Do you…If I’m going to stay here for a while do you have anything I could change into? For sleep, I mean.”

He produced some of his own lounge-clothes for her, and she took them gratefully, simply eager to be wearing something soft that wouldn’t rub up against her skin when everything was so overwhelming, and then left to change in his bathroom. She prayed her clothes left there wouldn’t be a source of scandal, since she had no real choice, and even more so that the black pearl earrings, hair pins, and tiara would be returned to her, or at least remain until she had the chance to retrieve them; they weren’t hers, not really, loans from her mother’s collection that had been distributed between herself and Baela’s dowry trunks, and technically would not be hers until she married.

Your sister will wear Targaryen jewels when she weds, her mother had told her with a laugh, the ones your grandmother and your Aunt Rhaenyra wore if they have anything to say about it. But you will wear these, remember, the Gods made you beautiful in the way you are so you would be so stunning as to inspire a dozen new songs in the black pearls our family saved with the legacy of Old Valyria.

Rhaena couldn’t bring herself to take off the necklace that completed the set, she needed her mother close to her tonight. The pants Aemond had given her wouldn’t stay up no matter how tightly she tied them, though it hardly mattered, since the white silk base shirt he’d provided reached her knees, but with her braids now hanging limply around her waist, her bust unsupported, and her ruined cosmetics, she was a deeply sorry sight, and it finally set her back to tears again. She felt unkempt, embarrassed, and undone, but more than anything she was distraught, and terribly anxious again, because of why she had ended up that way in the first place, the pain her whole family was now going through and what would happen to her Muna. She was walking out of the bathroom before she even realized she was doing so, still crying, but clearly her subconscious had decided her wish for Aemond not to see her was less strong than her need to stop looking at herself, and she’d barely taken a couple of steps back out into his room before he was hugging her tightly and murmuring and words of comfort about how strong Rhaenyra was and how everything was going to turn out alright. He half carried her over to the bed, and in a blink she was laying down cradled against the Prince’s body, as he whispered,

"Get some rest, I promise I'll stay awake even after you fall asleep, l'll protect you, I promise, you're safe with me."

Whether it was from emotional exhaustion, the sorely needed comfort, or simply the warmth of Aemond’s against hers, it was easy to fall asleep, and Rhaena did so quickly. He must have carried her back to her own rooms sometimes in the small hours of the morning, because by the time dawn rolled in she was back in her own, wonderful, plush bed, and he had dozed off, leaned up against her door and still in a position that made it clear he had intended to sit guard for the dozen or so important young girls and maidens who had congregated in her chambers the previous night for safety. By the time she’d changed into a much more appropriate, soft, pink shift and matching robe, no one else had roused, but Aemond had scattered to the wind. In truth, Rhaena did not think about him all that much in the following two days, the first was spent so concerned for her companions and the children in their family, trying to keep the peace, and exhausted by anxiety the only point there was even time for thoughts of him to surface was during her conversation late in the evening with Helaena, and everything felt too raw to really talk about then. During the following, her hands were so full managing the children once more, soothing Lady Sabitha’s and then her father’s anxieties, and managing the orders and technicalities that usually fell to her Muna and were simply too much to all be placed on Lady Calla’s to do list, that when she finally had time to let her mind wander, she passed out still half-dressed on her bed in under five minutes.

The third morning, after Rhaena had eaten, bathed—all of her potions scented with rose water and orange blossom actually doing quite a good job in calming her nerves—and was about halfway through getting ready for her day, it was still relatively early, but a knock on her door sounded and sent her rushing to greet it. Looking back, exhaustion was the only explanation for why she answered the door without her over-dress and only one eye lined, but she immediately regretted it. Aemond was looking back at her, smirking slightly, and dressed casually, but still better than what she was used to seeing before this had all started, and he had clearly put effort into making his hair look as nice as the first day she’d done it for him.

“Oh! Hello,” All Rhaena could do was grin back sheepishly, “How—how are you doing? Is everything alright?” And then, the words tumbling out before she’d given herself permission to speak them, she added softly, “I’ve missed you.”

The Taste of Your Lips is My Idea of Luxury

(Closed starter for @aemond-one-eyed)

His voice echoed in her mind for five days straight.

"No thanks needed Princess, I am glad I could be of help to you." "Because you were busy putting others first, as you always do." “My father is dead…and I fucked up.” "And you're twice as pretty as most people claim." "Thank you, your Highness."

It began the night of the ball to welcome Lady Jeyne's host. Rhaena must've stood dumbfounded in her doorway for a solid thirty seconds, stunned by Aemond's presence, by the gown in his hands, by the fact he had mended it, and even more so that it looked perfect. "I don't know how to begin to thank you," She finally managed to stutter out, taking the black lace and pink pearl gown out of his hands, staring at the garment as if he'd presented her with the same made of solid gold. He had simply smiled, "Promise to wear it...and promise you'll dance with me at least once tonight." "You have my word," she responded breathlessly. Then he left and she slid down the back of the door with the gown still in her hands.

Rhaena lied to her twin and her Muna about how the dress got fixed, telling both her lady-in-waiting and closest friend since the age of six, Lacey Vance, had fixed it that morning. Hours passed the way any typical day would when a ball was to be held that evening, she helped all her siblings get ready, did Baela's cosmetics, and her own hair while her sister repaid the favor, before spending a long while entertaining young heirs, knights, and lordlings all seeking to win her favor, but not searching to know her.

“I was right to want to see you in that dress.” Aemond spoke in barely more than a whisper when he took her next dance with little more than a look towards the heir to House Webber. "You look lovely," She told him, and she meant it, he'd changed into similarly all-black but significantly more formal clothes. After thinking about it for a moment, Rhaena realized this was perhaps the first time she'd ever seen the Prince dressed for an occasion, and it briefly made her breath catch in her throat, just briefly. He stayed with her for two dances, anything else would seem improper, they gossiped lightly about the guests, but mostly passed the time celebrating how perfectly their plans had come to fruition. "I shall see you soon." The tone of his voice made the response to Rhaena pointing out they had reached the end of the time they could properly spend together that night sound like a promise. "I would like that very much, my Prince." Her heart quickened as she used the title, she had said the phrase more times than she could count, but it meant something it never had before; something that no longer meant my liege, but veered closer to my love. Then she walked off to go find Joffrey before Aemond could see her blush.

His voice echoed in her mind for five days straight.

"I'm quite interested in seeing you in it." "If it upsets you, then it does matter." "I think I would trip over your sister again trying to get to our room." "And I'd still rather look a fool than a would-be traitor!" "Then it'll be a pleasure to see you again when you are."

Rhaena did not see Aemond the following day, nor had she expected to, and the following was the same, despite a small, quiet part of her secretly hoping that against both odds and logic, she might. That night, however, when her world was fracturing, reforming, and shifting into something entirely new, faster than she could ever even hope to keep up, was the last moment she was anticipating his presence. Yet, in the hours between dusk and daylight, something solidified between the two of them, something she could hold onto as the ground was shifting under her feet faster than quick sand, something that scared her more than she had ever felt before. How terrifying, Rhaena mused in the silence of her room as she dressed to attend The Queen for the first time, To have something that is not mine...and yet...I am desperate to keep.

She found herself willing him to speak to her, longing for it, though she would not admit such a thing even to herself, as she stood beside her father, siblings, and their new Queen in the long hours of Lords renewing their oaths. Rhaena almost called for Aemond as the Throne Room began to clear of it's final occupants to swear their loyalty, but she could not form the words, she could not risk making herself so known in a hall still filled with over a hundred people. Two more days passed and she did not see him, she'd dared to hope they would run into each other when she went to the Dragon Pit to ride with Silverwing, only to silently curse herself that it was a foolish wish to begin with, because Vhagar had been too large to nest in the pit even before her mother had ridden the Queen of Dragons. That was another thing Rhaena could not express, or admit, even to herself; the thought of Vhagar, her mother's dragon, his dragon...he spoke of her the same, begrudgingly fawned over the beast in the way her Lady-Mother had in her youth...Gods his clothes even smelled the same. It was infuriating, intoxicating, and unreasonably, horribly inticing.

Speaking to Rhaenyra about Aemond the night before the funeral was a relief that nearly brought her to tears, and once her Muna offered the advice she believed her mother would've given in the situation, she did cry from the weight of it all. The following day was the funeral, the first public appearance of the new Queen, the beginning of the end of the long, winding road of mourning for the old King...the first time she and Aemond would be in the same place at the same time since the first morning with Viserys gone from the world, and all the implications that came with that. Her mind was made up before she'd even gotten out of bed the following morning, she was going to find Aemond, to speak with him, to come to some sort of understanding, to simply even begin the process of where they were to go from here when his voice has been occupying every corner of her mind for the past five days.

After the procession, the procedure, and propriety of the funeral ceremony, the proceedings had not even officially come to a close, much less had Rhaena gotten the chance to seek out Aemond, when suddenly she heard the sneering voices of several Lords not much older than herself. They were gossiping, and it was with a skip of her heart, that quickly caused a pit to form in her stomach, with which she realized the Lordlings' snide voices were speaking about her. "Have you seen the girl since this last time the King took ill? With Princess Helaena running her own court now and the new Queen too occupied doing two jobs both meant for a man it's no wonder she believes she's holding this place together, I think she actually may be doing so more than anybody'd like to admit. I mean, her Ladyship is clearly used to doing her stepmother's duty, more of a mother to those children her highness seems so determined to continue popping out while dressing like a whore and acting like a man; at least Rhaena seems to have developed the makings of a proper Princess, if only she'd stop to listen to all those people trying to teach her to keep her mouth shut."

His voice had been echoing in her mind for five days straight, so when she turned to confront the Lord who had the audacity to snicker gossip in her earshot, only to hear the Prince's voice, piping up to defend her, her heart nearly stopped. Suddenly his arm was around her waist as the Prince said words she could barely understand, and for the first time in five days, Rhaena was glad to hear Aemond's voice.

[rhaenaspearls]

Numb Little Bug

(Closed starter for @helaenasdreamfyres)

Rhaena could not tell if she was drained from the effort, anxiety, or simple emotional of the past day. In all likelihood it was a combination of all three, but whichever was the true culprit, the resulting exhaustion had finally overcome her, practically gluing the new Princess to her bed for the past hour, and making her feel like it would be easier to right herself if the barrier to doing so was the full weight of Silverwing atop her chest; the fear, worry, and chaos of the past day was heavier still. Usually, such undesired incapacity would drive her halfway to madness from the frustration alone, perhaps the exhaustion itself was assisting in her uncharacteristic apathy. However, Rhaena knew that the main source of this unexpected calm in the eye of her distress was because she shared her plush, pink, king-sized bed with her cousin, her Mandia, Princess Helaena.

In the initial chaos of the previous evening, after her Queen-stepmother had been poisoned in front of a crowd nearly a thousand strong, Rhaena had ended up in Aemond's rooms, wearing one of his shirts as a nightdress, as the Prince swore to protect her. Even now, she could not parse all that had happened in those hours. She had fallen asleep quite quickly just from how overwhelming the turn of events had been, and knew he must've carried her back too her own rooms sometime in the small hours of the morning, because by the time dawn rolled in she was back in her own bed, and he had dozed off leaned up against her door. The Prince still in a position that made it clear he had intended to sit guard for the dozen or so important young girls and maidens who had congregated in Rhaena's chambers for safety. She did not know, even a full day later, who had initially decided to make her room a place to safeguard, but it made sense. It was large, comfortable, and far more importantly, centrally located in Maegor's Holdfast without being as overtly distinct as the apartments belonging to either Queen or the rooms for Aegon and Helaena's household.

Rhaena's ladies in waiting, Lady Lacey and Lady Cerelle were there, alongside Lacey's two younger sisters, and three of Cerelle's younger five, as well as three more daughters of Rhaenyra's ladies, Lady Cissy Grafton's daughters Gella and Marla, and Lady Daisy Connington's ten year old, Jocelyn. All of Helaena’s retinue were guarded here as well, the Princess herself, her ladies Aly Blackwood and Roslin Tyrell, alongside her younger sister, Princess Rhaenya, and her companions Alyse Motoon and Elaena Snow, of course in addition to her children, Jaehaerys, Jaehaera, and Maelor. Not to mention Rhaena’s own three youngest half-siblings, Visenya, Baelon, and Aemma. By the time Rhaena had changed into a much more appropriate soft, pink shift and matching robe, no one else was awake yet, but Aemond had scattered to the wind.

The day that followed gave her little time to ponder all that had happened with the tempestuous Prince, however. She was consumed with managing the younger children’s anxieties and their energy in such a confined space in equal measure, ensuring the other ladies were returned safely when their family’s chambers were deemed secure and their gardens cleared of any immediate suspicion, all while doing her very best to manage both her companions’ and her own sky-high anxieties over Rhaenyra’s condition and the safety of their families and Kingdom. Now they had finally made it to late evening only a fraction of the company Rhaena began her day with remained; most were thankfully back with their own families and Joffrey had very kindly offered to watch Jaehaerys—the pair usually seeming to find each other’s company equally agreeable—as he’d already tasked himself with looking after Aeg and Vis, to lighten the Princess’ load. This left only six in Rhaena’s company Baelon and Maelor, who were building Dragonstone with tiny blocks under the room’s large, center window, which was as let in the stormy day’s last rays of light. Meanwhile Jaehaera, Visenya, and Jocelyn Connington—a close companion of both girls, whom they’d begged to be allowed to stay until the following morning—giggled and exchanged stories over sheets of colored craft-paper from Braavos and a set of pastel crayons Rhaena had allowed them to use, so long as they promised to be gentle. Finally, Helaena and Rhaena were laid out on her bed, hugging pillows to soft, lace-clad chests, thoroughly, entirely, drained from simply surviving the day.

They had finally received word less than half an hour ago that Rhaenyra was expected to pull through—though the castle would remain sealed until further notice—and the relief of the news had, at long last, allowed the room’s atmosphere to ease, which in turn sent Rhaena’s mind back to its typical musings. She though about how the last time they were together like this was when her Muna was in labor with Aemma and they had waited in the then-Princess-Hand’s sitting room for hours so as to be available to support her at any time, and the first to attend her once the babe came, while five year old Visenya and Jaehaera played with their dolls and only puppy-sized Morning and Morghul. That invariably led her to thinking about the last time they had seen each other through such fear and worry, the three days when Helaena kept her in a near constant embrace as all they could do was pray that Rhaenyra, and the babe that would come to be her first daughter, survived a dangerously early labour; all the while Helaena was already over six months pregnant with the twins. The former made her wish to talk to her Mandia about how it felt so strange five years had already past, yet at the same time, she felt like an entirely different person than who she was at four and ten. The latter simply made her want to voice that she wished they could have more of these close, quiet moments without such hard times in their lives serving as the backdrop. She could not find it in herself to bring up either, though, not only did it feel wrong to compare this truly horrible crime to all the good, perhaps the greatest good, that went hand in hand with the fear accompanying childbirth. But, just as much because, while it would be madness to suggest Helaena had anything less than a bone-deep love for her children, anything to do with pregnancy and labour was a delicate—in truth, difficult—discussion even on the best of days, and she did not begrudge her for that in the slightest. Rhaena also had wished, more than anything actually, to talk through this wild new whirlwind of feelings she’d developed for Aemond all in under a week. But she couldn’t bring that up either, not because it was bad—she truly believed Helaena may be the happiest of anyone, well, perhaps in contest with her daughter, if she began courting her brother—but she knew they both needed a clear head to discuss the matter, or she would only come out of the conversation with her emotions more tangled and confused than ever.

After all those thoughts, and a million more, kept her stuck in quiet contemplation for a long time, Rhaena decided to simply start with the words at the forefront of her mind. “You know, I was really worried, but now things are most likely to turn out just fine, it almost feels foolish. Not the worrying itself, that’s only natural, just…of course she’s going to be alright, of course, after everything that’s happened, of course we’re going to make it through this too.” Rhaena reached her hand up from where she was laying wrong-way-up to wrap her fingers around where Helaena was laid opposite against the half of the pillows Rhaena had left in their proper place. “But getting through today? I don’t think I could’ve done it with anyone else, there’s certainly no one else I would’ve rather been with. I’m so grateful that I have you, that we have each other, and I don’t think you hear that enough, in truth, none of us do. So, after today especially, we you really deserve to hear it: one of my greatest joys, blessings, in this life is having you as my Mandia.”

[rhaenaspearls]

The stunned relief Rhaena feels at everything Aemond does, from his arm wrapping around her like a black silk-sheathed shield, to his thumb on her hip sending shivers down her spine, and his voice defending her more aptly and fiercely than he ever could with the sword on his hip, turns her world to nonsense for several seconds. She's jogged somewhat at the mention of her father, finally, fully brought back to earth by the lordlings' murmured apologies, and Aemond turning to look at her with a self satisfied grin.

"Are you alright darling? Do I need to challenge any of them to a duel for your honor? Did you see the way they ran off like frightened little mice?"

"I think it's best to stick to sparring with words, at least for today, we are still at the King's funeral, after all." She tilts her head up to face him properly, Aemond's a full foot taller than her, perhaps more, but she wanted to look him in the eye to thank him. "It was satisfying, I'll admit," She laughs softly. "Having you come to my aid...at my side," Rhaena's eyes grow wide as she speaks, she can't help it, only able to focus on the way his hair now frames his face so perfectly, exactly how she'd hoped, watching his lips move as he speaks, and how earnest his lilac gaze seems while fixed on hers. "I can't thank you enough, truly."

Rhaena glanced away for a moment once her words had hung long enough that doing so wouldn't seem overtly connected to the emotion in her tone; besides, she looked back towards the thrall of the crowd just as much to ensure the proceedings were well and truly over as to collect her thoughts, so her next words would not seem hasty or improper. When she looked back to him his stance had turned somewhat awkward, his expression gaining an equal, mild oddness, though neither were fully different enough to distract Rhaena from offering, "Perhaps, now everyone's headed back to the Keep, you might escort me, so we can walk together?" She gave him another soft smile before continuing, "That is, only if you still find my company suitable appreciation for the rescue."

Her heart skipped a beat when Aemond agrees to the suggestion and her smile widened and relaxed as they started off along the street of gold. He still had not moved his arm from around her back and she quickly realized she did not want him to, leaning into the embrace a little as butterflies begin to flit around much lower in her stomach than she's used to from typical nerves. After only a minute or two, Rhaena was back to her characteristic, light-hearted chatting, feeling truly happy for the first time all day that the words seem to come just as easily on Aemond's part. "You know, I was hoping we'd see each other today, what with this being a rare occasion we're both in black." Rhaena motioned vaguely to her mourning gown with a short giggle, the layers of shiny black satin and intricate, inky lace incorporating a wide neckline and high waist that flattered her bust, with long, softly puffed sleeves decorated by onyx, garnets, and black pearls , the latter of which also made up a short chain around her neck and glinted on the tiara atop her intricately pinned braids. "With how somber this all is, I thought it might be a bit of a fun silver lining."

Just a few moments later Rhaena let out a small gasp as they passed another row of shops on the high streets leading back to the castle. "That's my favorite place to get flowers! Their selection is so lovely and they always have the extracts and roots and powders I need for my potions. We should go together!" She paused for a second, then, she wasn’t sure if he even liked plants, and that sent a shock of anxiety coursing through her, Rhaena wasn’t sure if she could like someone who didn’t like plants. But just as quickly she reminded herself that everyone likes plants, the ones who say they don’t just haven’t found the right kind to pique their interest, and if that was true for Aemond then she would simply help him find the kind of plants he did enjoy, like she had done with Joffrey when they were small, and the thought restored her smile almost as soon as it had slipped. "If you're not too busy, of course, just whenever you have your own errands to run. That way I won't have to drag along a guard and you can have some company!"

The conversation is easy after that, and indeed, the whole walk back to the Keep. With most people, Rhaena's endless ideas for conversation, her constant refrain of, "but what do you think?", followed by a hopeful pause, and eager enthusiasm to share her ideas and hear others', was overwhelming at best and exhausting at worst, and she often couldn't see it had become so until her desire for companionship had already pushed them over the edge. However, they walk for over an hour, and Aemond never seems to grow bored or short with her, in fact seeming to enjoy their discussion more and more as time goes on. At first, he responded to her musings with only a word or two, as he had most of the previous week, but he grew fully engaged in the conversation faster that she'd seen before, and it quickly turned into the longest they'd ever talked before. She tells him about Silverwing, he tells her about Vhagar—discussing his mount with her without the tension she'd never been able to fully parse as annoyance or guilt—his sword-fighting, or more accurately, his new sword, Blackfyre, and all the different potions that steep on her bedroom windowsill.

Rhaena suggested they take a slightly longer path through the only true gardens outside the Red Keep, the cool, damp spring air making her feel more alive than she had in three days, and to her delight, Aemond agreed. After discussing her embroidery and sewing, the latest philosophy he'd been studying, and then comparing notes on their favorite ancient Valyrian myths, he suggested his own detour, a path set right above the rocky beach at the back of the castle that would allow them to avoid the crowd at the main doors and give them a few moments walking through the corridors before facing the chaos of the proceeding feast. After agreeing enthusiastically, Rhaena asked, "Will you come sit beside me, for the meal at least? Fewer people will bother either of us that way...and Gods know we've both had more than our fill of mourning and condolences. Besides, we'll both have to manage much less enjoyable company this evening, at least dinner can be as nice as this." She smiles softly when he praises the idea, realizing his hand hasn't left her waist this whole time in the same moment she realizes how lovely the feeling is, and that she'll mis it when they enter the castle again and he lets her go.

Dinner passed much as she had predicted, their family sits at the high table, but there was no assigned seating for the evening. Some members of their house drifted in late, others left early, and Rhaena gets a bit over an hour sitting beside Aemond. Largely, they made light-hearted fun of all the lords and ladies far too ostentatious in their mourning for how close they actually were to the King, clearly all in an attempt to suck up to the new Queen, and those who didn't even go so far as to conceal their pursuit of gaining favor from the royal family behind a facade of grief at all. It was easy, just as the rest of the evening she'd spent at his side has been; in no small part because of everyone's knowledge that Aemond had done his own fair share of ostentatious posturing in ensuring he was the first to swear fealty to her stepmother the first morning after the King's death. Before long, however, Rhaena was approached to dance by a boy in the colors of House Piper, and she obliged him with the same glad response she gave every heir and lordling who invited her out at events like this, though she was not nearly as happy as she usually felt at the prospect.

The Piper boy was somewhat slight, and very sweet, this was not their first meeting and she hoped it would not be their last. In truth, until recently he had been one of only four or five of the two or three dozen young men who had floated marriage proposals she had considered with any real intention. Then they had discovered King Viserys' most recent illness would likely be his last, then the banners were called, then their family was called, then the Maesters' predictions turned out to be right...and now she hadn't the faintest idea what her marriage prospects were supposed to be, much less what she wished for them to be. The heirs to Houses Costayne, Sunderland, and Varner, alongside the young, newly inherited Lords of House Prester and House Meadows all approach her for dances in quick succession, and while some are better conversational companions than others, none of the few minutes she spends with each are unpleasant; She's somewhat sure the Sunderland heir asked just to see if he could get away with it, seemingly shocked by the whole of the following four minutes, though the young Lord Meadows did apologize for not telling off his peers when they spoke ill of her earlier in the afternoon, and she pecked him on the cheek for the gesture. More than anything, Rhaena was always happy when presented with reassurance her belief in seeing the best in others was not a fruitless one, and tonight seemed to be full of those.

She had not expected for Aemond to dance the whole time she did, few people in the whole of the court had the interest or stamina to partake in that much dancing, but she was somewhat disappointed when it seemed he would not be joining in at all. Rhaena saw him playing what appeared to be dice at one point, and then a drinking game some time later, she'd had some offhanded hope that perhaps his efforts to appeal to her Muna, or even just the—in her own view at least, significantly improved—change in his appearance may have prompted the Prince to at least be a touch more sociable around more people than just her. And perhaps she was simply a little bit jealous there were social rules it seemed they all had to follow except him. Just as she had said goodbye to Lord Meadows, however, with the thoughts of how she really would love to live in the Reach one day once more at the forefront of her thoughts, Rhaenyra stood to give a toast, leading Rhaena to stand at attention, and then everything went wrong.

Rhaena stood frozen in shock as she watched her Muna collapse, then her father panic, and her stepbrothers immediately spring into action to try and play damage control amongst the crowd. She panicked, she couldn't move, she called Baela's name, and then Joffrey's but the crowd's disarray was too great to distinguish any singular voice at all. People, bodies, were suddenly buffeting her from all sides, she could barely stay upright, before long nearly getting sent sprawling to the floor, only to collide into the familiar feeling of Aemond's leather surcoat instead. In the chaos of it all, with yelling coming from every direction and completely disorienting her, long strides all but running her out of the hall, and worry so strong it felt as though it was going to tear her chest open at any moment...Rhaena was deeply, truly, desperately glad to feel Aemond's hand against her waist.

The Taste of Your Lips is My Idea of Luxury

(Closed starter for @aemond-one-eyed)

His voice echoed in her mind for five days straight.

"No thanks needed Princess, I am glad I could be of help to you." "Because you were busy putting others first, as you always do." “My father is dead…and I fucked up.” "And you're twice as pretty as most people claim." "Thank you, your Highness."

It began the night of the ball to welcome Lady Jeyne's host. Rhaena must've stood dumbfounded in her doorway for a solid thirty seconds, stunned by Aemond's presence, by the gown in his hands, by the fact he had mended it, and even more so that it looked perfect. "I don't know how to begin to thank you," She finally managed to stutter out, taking the black lace and pink pearl gown out of his hands, staring at the garment as if he'd presented her with the same made of solid gold. He had simply smiled, "Promise to wear it...and promise you'll dance with me at least once tonight." "You have my word," she responded breathlessly. Then he left and she slid down the back of the door with the gown still in her hands.

Rhaena lied to her twin and her Muna about how the dress got fixed, telling both her lady-in-waiting and closest friend since the age of six, Lacey Vance, had fixed it that morning. Hours passed the way any typical day would when a ball was to be held that evening, she helped all her siblings get ready, did Baela's cosmetics, and her own hair while her sister repaid the favor, before spending a long while entertaining young heirs, knights, and lordlings all seeking to win her favor, but not searching to know her.

“I was right to want to see you in that dress.” Aemond spoke in barely more than a whisper when he took her next dance with little more than a look towards the heir to House Webber. "You look lovely," She told him, and she meant it, he'd changed into similarly all-black but significantly more formal clothes. After thinking about it for a moment, Rhaena realized this was perhaps the first time she'd ever seen the Prince dressed for an occasion, and it briefly made her breath catch in her throat, just briefly. He stayed with her for two dances, anything else would seem improper, they gossiped lightly about the guests, but mostly passed the time celebrating how perfectly their plans had come to fruition. "I shall see you soon." The tone of his voice made the response to Rhaena pointing out they had reached the end of the time they could properly spend together that night sound like a promise. "I would like that very much, my Prince." Her heart quickened as she used the title, she had said the phrase more times than she could count, but it meant something it never had before; something that no longer meant my liege, but veered closer to my love. Then she walked off to go find Joffrey before Aemond could see her blush.

His voice echoed in her mind for five days straight.

"I'm quite interested in seeing you in it." "If it upsets you, then it does matter." "I think I would trip over your sister again trying to get to our room." "And I'd still rather look a fool than a would-be traitor!" "Then it'll be a pleasure to see you again when you are."

Rhaena did not see Aemond the following day, nor had she expected to, and the following was the same, despite a small, quiet part of her secretly hoping that against both odds and logic, she might. That night, however, when her world was fracturing, reforming, and shifting into something entirely new, faster than she could ever even hope to keep up, was the last moment she was anticipating his presence. Yet, in the hours between dusk and daylight, something solidified between the two of them, something she could hold onto as the ground was shifting under her feet faster than quick sand, something that scared her more than she had ever felt before. How terrifying, Rhaena mused in the silence of her room as she dressed to attend The Queen for the first time, To have something that is not mine...and yet...I am desperate to keep.

She found herself willing him to speak to her, longing for it, though she would not admit such a thing even to herself, as she stood beside her father, siblings, and their new Queen in the long hours of Lords renewing their oaths. Rhaena almost called for Aemond as the Throne Room began to clear of it's final occupants to swear their loyalty, but she could not form the words, she could not risk making herself so known in a hall still filled with over a hundred people. Two more days passed and she did not see him, she'd dared to hope they would run into each other when she went to the Dragon Pit to ride with Silverwing, only to silently curse herself that it was a foolish wish to begin with, because Vhagar had been too large to nest in the pit even before her mother had ridden the Queen of Dragons. That was another thing Rhaena could not express, or admit, even to herself; the thought of Vhagar, her mother's dragon, his dragon...he spoke of her the same, begrudgingly fawned over the beast in the way her Lady-Mother had in her youth...Gods his clothes even smelled the same. It was infuriating, intoxicating, and unreasonably, horribly inticing.

Speaking to Rhaenyra about Aemond the night before the funeral was a relief that nearly brought her to tears, and once her Muna offered the advice she believed her mother would've given in the situation, she did cry from the weight of it all. The following day was the funeral, the first public appearance of the new Queen, the beginning of the end of the long, winding road of mourning for the old King...the first time she and Aemond would be in the same place at the same time since the first morning with Viserys gone from the world, and all the implications that came with that. Her mind was made up before she'd even gotten out of bed the following morning, she was going to find Aemond, to speak with him, to come to some sort of understanding, to simply even begin the process of where they were to go from here when his voice has been occupying every corner of her mind for the past five days.

After the procession, the procedure, and propriety of the funeral ceremony, the proceedings had not even officially come to a close, much less had Rhaena gotten the chance to seek out Aemond, when suddenly she heard the sneering voices of several Lords not much older than herself. They were gossiping, and it was with a skip of her heart, that quickly caused a pit to form in her stomach, with which she realized the Lordlings' snide voices were speaking about her. "Have you seen the girl since this last time the King took ill? With Princess Helaena running her own court now and the new Queen too occupied doing two jobs both meant for a man it's no wonder she believes she's holding this place together, I think she actually may be doing so more than anybody'd like to admit. I mean, her Ladyship is clearly used to doing her stepmother's duty, more of a mother to those children her highness seems so determined to continue popping out while dressing like a whore and acting like a man; at least Rhaena seems to have developed the makings of a proper Princess, if only she'd stop to listen to all those people trying to teach her to keep her mouth shut."

His voice had been echoing in her mind for five days straight, so when she turned to confront the Lord who had the audacity to snicker gossip in her earshot, only to hear the Prince's voice, piping up to defend her, her heart nearly stopped. Suddenly his arm was around her waist as the Prince said words she could barely understand, and for the first time in five days, Rhaena was glad to hear Aemond's voice.

[rhaenaspearls]

Just checking in to tell everyone that along with the new reply for our current thread, the latest compiled chapter of "I Can Fix Him..." is up on AO3!!

Oki that's all love you guys

[rhaenaspearls]

I need everyone to bear with me for a second because it’s going to sound at first like I’m arguing but I promise I’m not, this is genuinely good meta and I want to expand on it, not tear it down.

The problem is not that Rhaena has conflict with Rhaenyra, with their family as a whole, that she has her own wants and desires or that she’s somewhat separate from their whole “united front”, it’s that if she is going to be that the effectiveness of her critique of Rhaenyra falls flat. Especially as things have gone down she deserves to have someone actually challenge her, to present a perspective that’s more than just Rhaenys’ milquetoast advocacy for peace that doesn’t go anywhere or feel in line with her character.

Which is where we come to a cross roads. Rhaena as the character who is somewhat separate from Team Black is genuinely compelling! But we don’t have a why, if they were going to do this with one of the twins it would’ve made exponentially more sense to be Baela. Rhaenys is a begrudging participant in this war at best so if someone was going to have priorities outside of it why wouldn’t it be the granddaughter she’s been raising since she was all of about seven?? And if she was going to take one of them to ward, only for Rhaenyra and Baela to still be a lot closer than her and Rhaena, WHY wasn’t it Rhaena? The girl who was supposed to be the future Lady of The Tides and put Laena’s blood back in their seat??

Which brings me to my second point, Rhaena as a voice of critique, a critical advisor, who can present a different perspective to the audience and who Rhaenyra may actually listen to. Rhaena is markedly closer to Rhaenyra in Fire and Blood than Baela, and in no small part because they are deeply similar in character, Rhaena’s characterization as “The Realm’s Delight 2.0” more or less saved the Targaryen’s public image after the Dance.

If someone was going to offer a counterpoint Rhaenyra had half a chance of being receptive towards, there is no better time or place to do it than late in the evening when the two of them are sitting alone working on embroidery projects; they’re the only two who enjoy it. Or, instead of Elinda, Rhaena is the one who braids Rhaenyra’s hair before bed, and it’s stated that Rhaenyra had done the same for her; this is their nightly ritual. Or, they are choosing what to wear to meet with envoys who may provide support, Rhaenyra is teaching Rhaena the importance of public image, she is an enthusiastic student, and then the roles reverse; Rhaenyra has a thing or two she could learn from the stepdaughter who is all at once so alike and so different from herself.

But we cannot have this, it’s incompatible with the way the show has characterized Rhaenyra, and more importantly it’s incompatible with a production that has made it clear they have coded explicit or “hyper” femininity as a trait to be demonized. Rhaenyra won’t have her authority come from “jewels and gowns”, she is seemingly disinterested in her public image, and even if they gave Rhaena and Rhaenyra a different hobby to bond over it would be inconsistent because Rhaenyra doesn’t even get to have hobbies. These characters, first and foremost, have to be appealing and likable to a general (to be clear, imagined) male audience. While this is reductive and often untrue on a personal basis, from a marketing mindset, blatant femininity is alienating to a male audience, your show becomes “chick tv”, and then you can’t have your high octane mellow drama; And yes, obviously this is untrue in practice, you can, this is just the mass media, broadest appeal possible mindset.

Rhaena, as a character, should not have to rely on Rhaenyra being a certain way in order to have a holistic characterization, it’s not fair. But with the decisions they’ve made with giving Laena nearly as little characterization and screen time, combined with characterizing Baela as taking after Rhaenyra instead of Daemon, there is no one left to connect Rhaena to within the narrative and thus she no longer serves it. To be clear, Rhaena’s characterization didn’t have to rely on Rhaenyra, but it had to rely on someone, and there’s immense potential for her to be the opposite side of the same coin to Rhaenyra, who is so alike but with a truly different perspective, that we can’t have, fundamentally, because it would rely on characterizing two central female characters into distinct enough people that they are no longer broadly appealing to a mass-market audience.

Like so many issues with the show’s portrayal or characters in every facet of this conflict, it’s rooted in sexism. Rhaenyra being this barely characterized, likable above all else, too good for critique figure isn’t feminism, it’s benevolent misogyny, and Rhaena’s arc being swapped from the importance of soft power and feminine influence to being devalued because she doesn’t have a dragon isn’t feminism, it’s just misogyny.

Rhaena has been my favorite character on Team Black so far because she has some actual conflict! She stands up to Rhaenyra and we see that she isn't happy being forced to go away with the children. She's a Targaryen in her own right and as Corlys himself says, he wouldn't want to be sent off to play nursemaid. But Rhaena is being sent because she's a woman without a dragon and she's painfully aware of it. She has desires outside of Rhaenyra and her cause, which we haven't seen with almost any (Daemon excluded, bc idk what is up with him) of the other team black characters thus far. I NEED her to mention to Baela the idea that she could be the heir to Driftmark over Joffrey, especially now that Rhaenys has mentioned it again to Corlys. Not that I want Rhaena to betray Rhaenyra's cause, but please can we have someone on her side (besides the random ass men on Rhaenyra's council) be critical of Rhaenyra and her decisions.

[rhaenaspearls]

Our Rhaemond Story All in One Place 💗

Hey everyone!! As I know the wonderful threads I've had the pleasure of writing with the amazing @aemond-one-eyed have been gaining quite a bit of traction here on Tumblr, we've decided to upload a compiled version for everyone's reading pleasure 💗💗 You can find I Can Fix Him (No Really, I Can) on AO3 and once again thank you all so much for all your support, I can't even say how happy the both of us are you're enjoying reading this story as much as we are writing it!! 💗

[rhaenaspearls]

A little bit about this MUN

Just to be very clear because some new people have followed this account, this is a side blog of @black-queen-rising!! If you guys are just here cause you think the writing is fun I appreciate you all a lot, it's very sweet 💗💗 also the first RhaenaxAemond thread is going to start uploading on AO3 and I'm extremely excited!! 🥰 (You guys should also check out the RP it's a whole lotta fun come join us on Discord!!)

Just wanted to very quickly make clear though, I cannot control (nor do I want to!) what other people post, but if you are here expecting anti-Daemyra, anti-Daemon, anti-Rhaenyra, or anti-Targaryen content you're in the wrong place. The person who writes my amazing @aemond-one-eyed for Rhaena is the same person who writes my spectacular @rogueprincedaemontarg for Rhaenyra, we're kind of a package deal and so are the ships. I have no interest in doing ~disk horse~ (our RP @asongofgoldenfireandblackblood is specifically anti-discourse and I literally created it as an everyone lives!AU with Rhaenyra as Queen), I'm anti-HotD on principle, I don't think they've done any character well, I do think they're racist and misogynistic, I don't think excluding Nettles is bad, I do think they've made Daemon look evil for no reason, and I don't think their portrayal is kinder or better for Rhaenyra, again, it's just misogyny. No one has to agree with any or even most of those takes to follow me! But you guys also don't get to be rude about it!!

And just to be clear, considering I see who likes and reblogs Rhaena's challenges and threads, Rhaenyra loves and treats both Baela and Rhaena like her own while also being very careful not to overbear or act as some sort of replacement for Laena, not least of which because she was her best friend longer than the twins existed while she was alive. I'm very passionate about good representation of complicated and messy but overall positive portrayals of blended families because I'm part of one and you're not gonna argue me out of that. And because I've already gotten a rude ask about this, the only personal information you guys get to know about me is that I'm 22 and use she/her pronouns, anything else does not matter, and is not your business, you are not owed a set of credentials by anyone who writes or feels affinity with a particular character.

Anyway, from myself, and my Rhaena, I love you guys, I'm very grateful for all the engagement and the couple of really sweet notes I've got, I wanted to end this on a positive note because honestly all the writing I've been able to do for this RP has been an absolute joy and I hope it stays that way for as long as humanly possible!! And also I think we can all agree Rhaena is a really sweet and positive and caring person and I think she'd be really sad to hear you guys bad mouthing her dad and her stepmom and her siblings and her family as a whole, be kind to me and each other, it's what the character we all love would want most! 💗

[rhaenaspearls]

I'm Just as Fragile as You

(Closed starter for @josswesterling)

Rhaena had to get out, she wasn't sure where exactly she was going to go and even less so what she was going to do, but in the simmering, quiet, stifling tension still nearly suffocating The Red Keep over a week on from the poisoning attempt that nearly took her Muna's life, she had to get out before it crushed the life out of her instead. Her patience had finally run out when she realized she couldn't even conjure up the creativity to plan out a design for her newest embroidery project. Sewing had always been a refuge of sorts for her, somewhere to put the frenetic energy equally driving her mind and hands to much more destructive pursuits when deprived of a proper outlet.

Those destructive tendencies, more than anything else, had finally driven her to ensure Joffrey was watching their little brother Baelon, and her sisters Visenya and Aemma were happy in the company of their governess and nanny respectively, then pull on her shoes, pack up her embroidery into its carrying case, and begin walking towards the castles main doors; it was better than the stifling tension and crushing frustration, better than the destructive energy driving her to ignore the bitter taste of her nail dye and bite her fingernails until blood dripped onto her needlepoint canvas.

The steps Rhaena took out into the Red Keep's gardens were easy and the path unsurprising, when the weather was good she spent almost as much time here as in her own chambers and her stepmother's solar, and even more than the Dragon Pit, and after several days of nonstop rain the scents released of the trees, grass, and flowers made her feel more alive than she had since King Viserys funeral eight days previous. Nevertheless, like so many things in The Red Keep, there was something about the gardens that felt unnervingly perfect, and on closer inspection, inhumanly wrong.

The majority of the flowers are clearly being kept alive in an unsuitable climate through backbreaking and meticulous labor, the fruit and vegetables they grow look too perfect, more like fake food made of wax, and all the rooted plants are twisted at odd angles, almost as if they're trying to escape, but with no direction, just away from here. She couldn't help but wonder if it reflected her own family, only appearing to thrive in a place that they could never truly make their own. Such thoughts always made her ache for company, only exacerbated by the stress and anxiety of the past week, but not five minutes latter, as if the garden itself had heard her musing and wished to prove her wrong, her stroll along the pebble lined paths brought her to someone who may serve as a solution to her wish.

The person she stumbled on was standing in front of an easel, painting a particularly vibrant patch of at least half a dozen different kinds of flowers in just as many colors, and on closer inspection, she quickly realized he was a boy around her own age with dark curly hair and a shirt the shade of pale gold most often associated with House Westerling. She'd seen him with one of her ladies-in-waiting and best friends, Cerelle Lannister, a few times before, just as quickly certain he must be one of her cousins from the aforementioned House, and then immediately felt guilty she couldn't conjure up his name. However, his painting alone was enough to intrigue her even before considering her desire for company, and she'd always had a bit of a talent for introductions.

"Oh, hello! I don't believe we've been properly introduced, my name's Rhaena. You're one of Lady Cerelle's cousins, right? Of House Westerling?" Rhaena grinned as she walked up to stand beside him and offered a compliment, "Your work is stunning, now we can be outside again after all that rain...I don't think I've ever seen art that captures what a lovely feeling it is before. But, if I may be so bold, I believe you have."

[rhaenaspearls]

rhaena targaryen wip

[rhaenaspearls]

The Taste of Your Lips is My Idea of Luxury

(Closed starter for @aemond-one-eyed)

His voice echoed in her mind for five days straight.

"No thanks needed Princess, I am glad I could be of help to you." "Because you were busy putting others first, as you always do." “My father is dead…and I fucked up.” "And you're twice as pretty as most people claim." "Thank you, your Highness."

It began the night of the ball to welcome Lady Jeyne's host. Rhaena must've stood dumbfounded in her doorway for a solid thirty seconds, stunned by Aemond's presence, by the gown in his hands, by the fact he had mended it, and even more so that it looked perfect. "I don't know how to begin to thank you," She finally managed to stutter out, taking the black lace and pink pearl gown out of his hands, staring at the garment as if he'd presented her with the same made of solid gold. He had simply smiled, "Promise to wear it...and promise you'll dance with me at least once tonight." "You have my word," she responded breathlessly. Then he left and she slid down the back of the door with the gown still in her hands.

Rhaena lied to her twin and her Muna about how the dress got fixed, telling both her lady-in-waiting and closest friend since the age of six, Lacey Vance, had fixed it that morning. Hours passed the way any typical day would when a ball was to be held that evening, she helped all her siblings get ready, did Baela's cosmetics, and her own hair while her sister repaid the favor, before spending a long while entertaining young heirs, knights, and lordlings all seeking to win her favor, but not searching to know her.

“I was right to want to see you in that dress.” Aemond spoke in barely more than a whisper when he took her next dance with little more than a look towards the heir to House Webber. "You look lovely," She told him, and she meant it, he'd changed into similarly all-black but significantly more formal clothes. After thinking about it for a moment, Rhaena realized this was perhaps the first time she'd ever seen the Prince dressed for an occasion, and it briefly made her breath catch in her throat, just briefly. He stayed with her for two dances, anything else would seem improper, they gossiped lightly about the guests, but mostly passed the time celebrating how perfectly their plans had come to fruition. "I shall see you soon." The tone of his voice made the response to Rhaena pointing out they had reached the end of the time they could properly spend together that night sound like a promise. "I would like that very much, my Prince." Her heart quickened as she used the title, she had said the phrase more times than she could count, but it meant something it never had before; something that no longer meant my liege, but veered closer to my love. Then she walked off to go find Joffrey before Aemond could see her blush.

His voice echoed in her mind for five days straight.

"I'm quite interested in seeing you in it." "If it upsets you, then it does matter." "I think I would trip over your sister again trying to get to our room." "And I'd still rather look a fool than a would-be traitor!" "Then it'll be a pleasure to see you again when you are."

Rhaena did not see Aemond the following day, nor had she expected to, and the following was the same, despite a small, quiet part of her secretly hoping that against both odds and logic, she might. That night, however, when her world was fracturing, reforming, and shifting into something entirely new, faster than she could ever even hope to keep up, was the last moment she was anticipating his presence. Yet, in the hours between dusk and daylight, something solidified between the two of them, something she could hold onto as the ground was shifting under her feet faster than quick sand, something that scared her more than she had ever felt before. How terrifying, Rhaena mused in the silence of her room as she dressed to attend The Queen for the first time, To have something that is not mine...and yet...I am desperate to keep.

She found herself willing him to speak to her, longing for it, though she would not admit such a thing even to herself, as she stood beside her father, siblings, and their new Queen in the long hours of Lords renewing their oaths. Rhaena almost called for Aemond as the Throne Room began to clear of it's final occupants to swear their loyalty, but she could not form the words, she could not risk making herself so known in a hall still filled with over a hundred people. Two more days passed and she did not see him, she'd dared to hope they would run into each other when she went to the Dragon Pit to ride with Silverwing, only to silently curse herself that it was a foolish wish to begin with, because Vhagar had been too large to nest in the pit even before her mother had ridden the Queen of Dragons. That was another thing Rhaena could not express, or admit, even to herself; the thought of Vhagar, her mother's dragon, his dragon...he spoke of her the same, begrudgingly fawned over the beast in the way her Lady-Mother had in her youth...Gods his clothes even smelled the same. It was infuriating, intoxicating, and unreasonably, horribly inticing.

Speaking to Rhaenyra about Aemond the night before the funeral was a relief that nearly brought her to tears, and once her Muna offered the advice she believed her mother would've given in the situation, she did cry from the weight of it all. The following day was the funeral, the first public appearance of the new Queen, the beginning of the end of the long, winding road of mourning for the old King...the first time she and Aemond would be in the same place at the same time since the first morning with Viserys gone from the world, and all the implications that came with that. Her mind was made up before she'd even gotten out of bed the following morning, she was going to find Aemond, to speak with him, to come to some sort of understanding, to simply even begin the process of where they were to go from here when his voice has been occupying every corner of her mind for the past five days.

After the procession, the procedure, and propriety of the funeral ceremony, the proceedings had not even officially come to a close, much less had Rhaena gotten the chance to seek out Aemond, when suddenly she heard the sneering voices of several Lords not much older than herself. They were gossiping, and it was with a skip of her heart, that quickly caused a pit to form in her stomach, with which she realized the Lordlings' snide voices were speaking about her. "Have you seen the girl since this last time the King took ill? With Princess Helaena running her own court now and the new Queen too occupied doing two jobs both meant for a man it's no wonder she believes she's holding this place together, I think she actually may be doing so more than anybody'd like to admit. I mean, her Ladyship is clearly used to doing her stepmother's duty, more of a mother to those children her highness seems so determined to continue popping out while dressing like a whore and acting like a man; at least Rhaena seems to have developed the makings of a proper Princess, if only she'd stop to listen to all those people trying to teach her to keep her mouth shut."

His voice had been echoing in her mind for five days straight, so when she turned to confront the Lord who had the audacity to snicker gossip in her earshot, only to hear the Prince's voice, piping up to defend her, her heart nearly stopped. Suddenly his arm was around her waist as the Prince said words she could barely understand, and for the first time in five days, Rhaena was glad to hear Aemond's voice.

[rhaenaspearls]

Rhaena found herself feeling very glad that Aegon seemed relatively at ease as their conversation continued, and even more so that despite their different demeanors and her occasional slips, his mood didn't seem much affected and the atmosphere of the conversation remained pleasant. In truth there were so few people in this world she disliked talking to and even less who she believed had nothing of interest to say. While she knew few had the same appetite for talking about anything and everything under the sun the way she did, she also found herself feeling quite grateful to have such an easy, comfortable conversation with someone who's presence loomed so large in her life...in all their lives, but who she's never really felt like she knows. Not like the rest of their family, at least.

"Obviously I don't have any children of my own, but I think it's quite lovely that even when there are things we miss in our own childhoods, there's a different kind of joy we can still feel when the children we love are able to find it in our steads. Even just watching Viserys, and Jahaerys, and Aegon all get along, sometimes, at least," Rhaena laughed softly, when did any group of boys between the ages of ten and thirteen get along all the time? Or even most of it? She was simply glad they had at least as many moments where they enjoyed each other's presence as it caused them to end up at each other's throats. "Enough of the time that they call each other friends even out of her Grace's and my earshots."

She nodded attentively through Aegon's mild rebuttal to her story about their respective siblings. She honestly hadn't even thought he may feel the urge to defend Aemond, but then again, he was his older brother, and he'd lived with a genuinely life altering injury since they were all children...not that it excused the part where he screamed obscenities at a child who just wanted to play. "Oh no, I have no doubt things are difficult for him at times. If he hadn't started swearing up a storm and throwing around blame when my little sister just wanted to play I don't think I would've even become angry. But like you said, I do think he deserved to be told off for the overreaction, we've all been going through a lot lately, and you and Helaena, The Crown Princess and my Father, no one else has gotten a pass."

As soon as her cousin brightened with mentions of her younger brother, the dragon saddles, and flying, Rhaena went right back to feeling glad for the conversation, though. There were so many questions she wanted to ask him, about life, about what he got up to on Dragonstone, about what he felt about his own brothers and hers, that's what she liked about these kinds of conversations, finding out what took up the corner's of other people's minds. For the moment, she settled for an observation, "You know, for a long time everyone was worried you or your Queen Mother, or even His Grace might see you and my younger brother sharing a name as some sort of slight. I don't know if anyone ever told you this, so forgive me if I'm repeating old news but...he's my father's first son, the son he waited ages for, and he had wanted to use it for so long to honor a brother he and the King lost in the cradle. I suppose, it's just such a wonderful thing you've taken to him. I know you and my Prince-Father don't always get along but...I think he may really appreciate hearing how fond you are of Aeg, I think it may be something nice for the both of you with how bleak so much of all this is."

She smiled wider then, already excited by the prospect of riding out with Aegon, Sunfyre, and with any luck Helaena and Dreamfyre as well when life had settled once more, they returned to Dragonstone, and Rhaena resumed her visits to their ancestral seat and Driftmark. "And I'd love to go out flying with you both, Silverwing isn't usually much for tricks but I'd love to see what you two have worked out, and," She laughed softly once more, "I love her to bits but I think the old girl could use some motivation every know and then."

The door opened not a minute later, signaling the return of Helaena and the twins. Rhaena greeted all three warmly, kneeling so the twins could hug her again, but quickly gathering up her sewing and making some mild excuse so Aegon could have time with the people he'd actually come to see. As she'd already recognized he didn't have the same stamina for conversation and the melancholy behind Helaena's smile just as clearly signaled she needed a moment with her Prince-Husband as well. "I'm sorry we didn't get as much time as we'd hoped, but thank you for such a lovely afternoon, both of you! I'll see you both at the feast this evening?" She briefly hugged Helaena one last time, left just the ghost of a peck on Aegon's cheek, and then was out the door with one final, "See you soon!"

The Prince and the Pearl of the Realm: with @rhaenaspearls

The sitting room was bright with a large window overlooking the courtyard below allowing sunlight to pour into the room, highlighting the golden accents on the furniture.  It was one of his favorite rooms in the castle.  It was tucked away from most people’s notice and the window could easily be propped open to let in air from the outside.  Back when they’d lived in the Red Keep, Aegon had enjoyed napping on the large couch in the corner while Helaena did her embroidery.  

He’d come in to visit Helaena and the children who had all left their chambers to go visit with Rhaena in the sitting room.  However, once he stepped into the room, his family was nowhere to be seen though Rhaena was still in the room.  He thought about trying to subtly leave and avoid a potentially awkward conversation, but Rhaena had almost certainly seen him and slinking out the door wasn’t exactly great manners.  For most people, he might not have cared but Rhaena had always been kind to him and he didn’t think it was fair to be rude to her in return, especially not with how close she was to Helaena and his kids.  

“I was looking for Helaena.  Do you think she’ll be back soon?” That was another thing he now remembered he disliked about the Red Keep.  It was so much harder to find people in a building as big and as full as this one currently was.  If his family planned on coming back here, he was probably better off waiting instead of searching the countless halls to figure out where they might have gone.  

That would leave him alone in the room with Rhaena.  He’d spent time with her whenever she visited Dragonstone, but either one of the kids or Helaena had always been there to act as a buffer.  He wasn’t completely sure what she thought of him.  She was always smiling and seemingly happy to see him, but she was that way with everybody.  The suspicious part of him wanted to think it was all for show, but he was fairly sure it wasn’t.  He couldn’t imagine being that nice all the time; it sounded exhausting.  “If they’ll be back soon, would it be alright if I wait here?”

[rhaenaspearls]

La Vie en Rose

(A style board for Princess Rhaena Targaryen in the @asongofgoldenfireandblackblood RP)

[rhaenaspearls]

It took a great deal of restraint for Rhaena not to roll her eyes at Aemond's organizational counter-offer. He was being punished for threatening the life of another Prince, the second eldest son of the soon-to-be-Queen, himself third—and soon-to-be-second—in line for the Throne, and Aemond's still trying to make things easier for himself, or, more indictingly, trying to show off. As quickly as she becomes annoyed, however, she realized that very well may be his goal, and if it was not, it was certainly not worth her energy. "That's fine," She decided blithely, "My Prince-Father prefers the same method it's no trouble."

When Aemond commented on her workload she only responds with a scoff, she wanted to call him spoiled, was he so unaware of the same, and often larger, workloads of both his older sisters and his own mother? But he answered with his rebuke of the term women's work before she even had a chance to accuse him of such, because of course he was, of course he "doesn't like it". Of course he was still laboring under the delusion women's work meant tasks most men considered unimportant, when every high-born girl knew by the time she was half the Prince's age it had always meant tasks too difficult for men to handle willingly. She was not going to be his nanny anymore than she was going to hold his hand and guide him through the lessons her Muna wanted him to learn through working with her; either the tasks would teach him, or they wouldn't. "I think, perhaps, my Prince, this week may be an education in more ways than ever her Grace intended, because I can assure you it is a startlingly average load for any lady who assists in the running of a castle. The Princess-Hand has so many ladies who attend her to ensure our individual workloads remain average. I appreciate the apology, though I believe the right to accept it still rests with Prince Lucerys, your apology to me will be in this work so I have the time to continue the Crown's preparations and planning and placating all our guests. You may dislike the term women's work, but you have misunderstood me if you take my use of it as an insult."

She takes her leave then, walking down the hall to get her youngest brother started on his reading lessons as she'd promised. Once she returns and takes up her own tasks the rest of their work day passes quietly, with the only conversation involving technicalities of the material in front of them. The silence isn't unpleasant, however, just calm, and when Rhaena dismissed him on being informed her own family was gathering for dinner she thanked him gratefully; her annoyance had not faded, but she was appreciative for his willingness to simply do the work she'd asked all the same.

The second day Aemond came to assist Rhaena passed much as she predicted, the only occurrence to punctuate it from the one before was the company of Princess Visenya, Princess Jaehaera, and their puppies and practice needle-point for the latter half. Rhaena supervised while offering age appropriate gossip and chatter, and while Aemond was clearly disinterested in their general presence, he was kind enough to the young girls when they engaged him that she went out of her way to thank him for it when he left that evening.

On the third, however, Rhaena had planned to do her work for the day with some of her closest friends at court for over a week, Lady Cerelle Lannister, alongside her two favorites amongst the daughters of the Princess-Hand's ladies-in-waiting, Lady Lacey Vance, and Lady Anya Grafton, and had made it clear to everyone involved she would not forego their company to accommodate him. The Prince spent the day working in an armchair near the corner of the room, making excuses and gently declining her companion's many attempts to coax him to properly join their conversation—though Rhaena herself offered only once—and when he finished the work she'd gave him for the day she simply allowed him to leave two hours early rather than saddling him with extra, unwilling, in a way perhaps unable, to admit she nearly ached with empathy at how visibly tired he seemed after only three days of her average work.

The fourth day passed much like the second, but with an even greater presence from her younger siblings, and Rhaena entirely consumed with sewing projects that had to be finished by the next day for them. Aemma was wary, and at first still scared, of the Prince despite his exhibiting—what at least appeared to be—genuine guilt over their previous accident, but she was happy once Rhaena pulled her onto her lap and let her play with her dolls there while she tended to her sewing and Aemond finished off the last of the week's paperwork. The older Prince, for his part, managed to earn Rhaena's begrudging admiration when her middle brother, Vis, was driven inside from one of his preferred outdoor reading spots by a spring thunderstorm, and Aemond cured the younger boy's resulting sour mood with a solid hour and a half of conversation about the latest Valyrian philosophy tome to earn his fixation. It wasn't easy to hold the Vis' attention, and a harder task still to ease one of his bad moods, not to mention how appreciative she was that he was able to complete the ledgers while doing so, and allowed her to tend to the clothes Rhaenyra wished for her younger children to wear for the ball to welcome Lady Arryn and her host the following day in the process. Her Muna was always even more particular than her usual luxurious tendencies about their family appearing regal and opulent when her own mother's maiden House was represented at court. While her thanks was more heartfelt that evening, it's contents was much the same, but she squeezed Aemond's hand just for a moment as he left, hoping it might convey what she hadn't the faintest idea how to even put into words yet.

As Rhaena predicted the following day was occupied ensuring all her...their preparations for the aforementioned ball had come together, while Aemond stood beside her and took the notes she usually had to keep herself, double checking everything as they went. As they approached the end of her to-do list she was overcome with the urge to properly thank him for the second time in as many days. This week could have been filled with belligerence and bullishness but instead he had simply been willing to work with her, and amicably at that. In truth, though, she'd have been satisfied with her previous gratitude alone for that; no, it was the way he had been kind to her little sisters and charming with her ladies despite his continued wariness of both, just how much of her own paperwork he'd taken so she could alter and embellish her siblings clothes, certainly how patient he was with Vis, really, that for the first time she could remember he hadn't acted like he had something to prove, just like he'd actually wanted to help.

"Once the kitchens confirm all our counts were correct I need to get back to the Tower of The Hand so I can eat something, before I have to help all my siblings get ready, and then prepare for the ball myself. So, I just—I wanted to thank you, properly, for all your help this week. I know I don't need to tell you how much extra work there's been on all of us the past few moons" —In fact this was the only time she'd come close to admitting how strained they'd all been since the King had been more permanently absented from his duties— "but especially with all the paperwork the past couple days, and my sewing, like I said yesterday the children all grow so fast and my lady stepmother's accounts are already so scrutinized, but she's an Arryn through the late Queen and all of them in their House blue tonight is important to her..." Rhaena's eyes cast down as she laughed softly, "Sorry, I was going to say this tonight. I know you're not really a fan of all my pink, but my favorite gown is actually this black one I have with pink pearls and embroidery, and I was going to wear it tonight, and thank you then." She shook her head, her expression returning to neutral sweetness as she internally dismissed the thought, "It doesn't matter though, one of the sleeves is half torn off from the last time it got cleaned and with all the other needlework there was to get done I didn't have time to fix it, and it's silly anyway 'cause I know you don't have any reason to care about that sort of thing. But I still wanted you to ear me say it, so, thank you, truly, for how willing you've been to help, and just...how easy it's been to work together. I know this is technically still a punishment, but now? I’d choose to plan a ball with you over almost anyone else in this Keep and I wanted to thank you for that most of all.”

I Can Fix Him (No Really, I Can)

(Closed starter for @rhaenaspearls)

The first morning waking up in his old chambers made Aemond feel uncomfortable and strange to say the least the circumstances as to why he was back in the Red Keep only made it stranger. It was no secret that Viserys would be dead soon, the latest report he'd heard insinuated the King was functioning no better than an infant by now. His older sister would soon be the Realm's first Queen, and he and his siblings would no doubt be shunted back to Dragonstone shortly thereafter. He hoped he would ultimately be successful in his attempts to convince Rhaenyra to appoint him to her small Council, potentially as Master of Wars if she did as everyone said she would and elevated Daemon to be her new Hand.

If he was being honest, though, he would accept any position she was willing to offer him; Anything to get him off their gods' forsaken family island. To say Aemond was bored there would be a monumental understatement, he spent most of his time reading whatever he could get his hands on, or flying around on Vhagar, but fuck he wanted something to do. He couldn't even participate in tourneys like most second son's did to occupy their time since he'd never been able to stay on a horse after the accident that cost him his eye. He had heard people around Court refer to him as "The Spare's Spare" and as much as it infuriated him, he couldn't mount an argument against it's validity to his own feelings.

He reached over to his side table and grabbed one of his vials of milk of the poppy, downing it before he got on with his day. He knew he should probably be trying to be less dependent on the drug, but he would buckets of it if he was going to get through the upcoming weeks. He finally managed to get himself out of bed and dressed, pulling his eyepatch on last, before leaving to go scrounge around the kitchens for some food. As he was walking down the hall, about to descend the main stairs, he tripped and fell over something. One of the servants must've left left supplies at the base of the stairs in their hurry to prepare for so many guests.

"Who the fuck left something out in the fucking hall?!" He yelled. Then, the supply crate started to cry. Shit...definitely wasn't a supply crate then. He pushed himself up and looked down towards his feet to find one of his sister's many spawn in a sad heap on the floor. Before he got the chance to say anything, though, Rhaena was whirling down the hall towards him, anger written all over her face. She picked the child up, who was apparently named Aemma, and consoled her in her arms for a moment before demanding why he would kick a child.

Aemond only stared at her, astonished, and blinked his one eye a few times, "I'm sorry, you think I kicked the kid?! It's not my fault she was running around unsupervised, if you didn't notice I have one fucking eye! I couldn't see the little one, maybe you shouldn't ne letting her run off so much, we could've both tumbled down all those stairs just from you being a bad nanny." He sneered, then grabbed another vial from his pocket and sucked down a few drops as his foul mood grew even worse.