Chapter Text
When Rhaenyra was a child, she dreamt about her wedding as any girl her age would. She dreamt of the music and the dances. Of the pretty dresses she would wear and the intricate braids her mother would braid. She would giggle about it with Alicent. Whisper and sign about her prospective husband. She knew that as a Princess, her marriage would be less for love and more for an alliance to strengthen their House. It was the duty of a Princess of the realm to marry into a House that would bring riches and armies to her father’s cause. Her future House would strengthen her brother's claim to the throne as she was meant to support him.
Despite that, she hoped that she would have a marriage of love. Her parents’ marriage was an arranged one, but they fell in love. Theirs was a marriage of true love and respect. She wanted something like that. She prayed that she would have something that resembled love in her own marriage.
Today was her wedding. It was the day she dreamt of since she was a child.
Today was her funeral. It was the day she was going to die.
A bride wore white with her family cloak wrapped around her shoulder. A bride’s mother was meant to braid her daughter’s hair as she imparted her motherly wisdom for the last time before her daughter left her mother behind. There would be some tears shed. The bride’s companions would soothe her tears and try to make her laugh.
There were no tears on her wedding day. No mother to braid her hair as her mother, the Queen, died years ago. No companion except for Alicent to soothe her tears, but it was Alicent’s tears dripping instead of Rhaenyra’s.
There was no dress in beautiful white. Rhaenyra would not wear white. She refused to put up with this farce of a wedding. She refused to let him win.
She held her head high as she marched down the Hall of her home toward the throne room. She had no one to walk her down the aisle. Her father should be the one to be by her side today. He would have cried happy tears to see her marry.
Or he wouldn’t if he knew who his daughter was marrying.
Her brother would joke and try to make her laugh. He would probably make faces at her during the vows to try and get her to giggle. It was an unbecoming behavior from the Crown Prince, but Baelon always doted on Rhaenyra. He was the cause of her being the most spoiled girl in the whole realm. If he were here, he would do everything he could to try and save her. He would rage and wage war for his beloved little sister.
But it was a war that got her here.
The door to the throne room opened.
It was silent as she walked towards the throne. The only sound was her own footsteps. .
People looked at her in pity, some even shedding tears for the princess, as she walked toward her death. Some looked scandalized when they saw her dressed in black. The color of mourning. The color of the dead.
She stands in front of the throne. Her gaze doesn’t waver as she looks at him . It takes everything in her to not spit at the man sitting on her father’s throne. The throne that was meant to be her brother to sit upon when their father passed.
Now they are both lost to her.
“Princess.” He crooned, a smirk on his face. If the circumstances were different, she would admit he was handsome. But now, she would stab herself before she ever called him anything other than a monster. A snake.
A monster with a beautiful face.
Rhaenyra refused to speak to him. She refused to call him by a title that didn’t belong to him.
His smirk widens at her smile. He looked delighted to see her hateful glare.
He makes his way down the throne and stands beside her.
A valyrian priest starts to recite. Rhaenyra doesn’t hear much of it. Not that it would even matter if she did. She was never good at Valyrian. Her brother barely spoke it. Her mother knew none of it despite being the daughter of a Targaryen Princess. Her father rarely ever spoke Valyrian. He preferred Common despite his love for their Valyrian history. All Rhaenyra knew was enough to command Syrax and murmur a few words to her Lady.
She didn’t flinch as he cut her lip. She would not give him the satisfaction to see that he hurt her. He would have none of her tears. She dug the glass harshly onto his lip and could only get angry when she saw that he didn’t flinch either. On the contrary, he seemed delighted by the pain. She cut her palm and held his hand, their blood dripping into the goblet filled with wine. She drank a sip from it and swallowed it harshly, refraining from the urge to vomit it out.
A farce wedding. She did not even believe in the Valyrian pantheon. Then again, she did not believe in the Seven either. Alicent was the devoted one. She would pray religiously to the Seven. If things were different, Rhaenyra would be marrying in the Great Sept with the vows of the Seven ringing out.
The Priest ended the vow, and everyone waited with bated breath to see what would happen next. Rhaenyra refused to lean in and kiss the monster.
He leaned down and pressed his lips against hers.
It was soft. Perhaps it was a bit too far-fetched to think that his lips would be harsh and poisonous. She thought that anything he touched would be poisoned and drop dead. But she was still alive.
It only lasted for a few seconds before he leaned away.
“All Hail Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen of the House Targaryen! Consort of King Daemon of House Targaryen, King of the Andals, Rhoynar and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdom, and Protector of the Realm!”
Everyone kneeled.
“Long live the Queen!”
It was almost funny to hear them wish for her long life. Rhaenyra had no plans to live a long life.
Today was her wedding.
Today was her funeral.
Today she will die.
But she would die with her husband. If he was willing to bind their souls in the ways of Old, then he should be willing to die with her.
It started like this. Nearly two centuries, Aegon Targaryen conquered Westeros with his sister wives. He united the Seven Kingdoms under one banner and ruled the land till his death. Upon his death he left behind his two sons with equal claims to the throne. The warrior Maegor and the kind Aenys. Rather than throw the realm into a civil war, a different step was taken to prevent the bloodshed. The realm was again divided in two, but this time it was the two brothers who ruled. Both crowned Kings in their own land.
There was peace as the brothers loved each other. They would not encroach upon the other’s territory.
Things changed after the passing of Aenys and Maegor. The House that was once united was now divided in two. Their descendants had none of the love and respect that the brothers had. Each had the greed to rule one realm as their ancestor, Aegon, had. The wars were gruesome and bloody. Neither side gave up despite their mounting losses. There would be treaties regarding the ceasefire, but everyone knew it was temporary. The longest reign of peace came under King Jaehaerys. He created a peaceful realm after a treaty with King Aegon the second. The realm was at peace. It was thought that this treaty would continue once Prince Aemon took the throne. But the Prince passed away, leaving his only son, Prince Viserys, as the heir.
Prince Viserys became King Viserys, the first of his name. The King of half of Westeros. Alas, Viserys was no ruler like his father would have been. He was more a scholar than a King. He was gentle, far too gentle for a King of the House of the Dragon. He had no dragon of his own. Balerion passed away when he was seven and ten. He wielded Blackfyre, but he was no warrior. He was a weak King, and people waited to see him pass so the throne could be handed to the better heir, Prince Baelon.
But with the death of King Aegon came his grandchild, Prince Daemon Targaryen. Rider of Caraxes, the blood wyrm, and the wielder of Dark Sister.
With him on the throne, the realm once again descended into war.
A bloody, gruesome war that took everything from Rhaenyra.
Her brother perished under a storm fighting against King Daemon, taking his dragon with him. Her father was heartbroken after the death of his son. He barely had the strength to continue the war after Baelon died. Then came the offer from King Daemon. Viserys could surrender the throne to Daemon, or he could fight against him and defeat him in battle.
Rhaenyra begged her father to stay.
“What sort of King would I be if I left my people in the hands of that monster?”
“What sort of Father would you be if you left me alone at his mercy?”
Her father walked away from her, deaf to his daughter’s cries begging him to not abandon her. Alicent held Rhaenyra as she crumbled down to the floor and wept for her family.
Hours later, her father died.
Rhaenyra’s screams echoed around the Keep.
That was the last time she shed tears.
The next morning she got up and wore black. She walked to where her father’s body lay. She commanded Syrax to burn her father’s body just as she had commanded her to burn her brother’s body before their father’s.
She watched as the last of her family burned to ash, and she vowed she would not rest until she had her revenge. She knew what would happen to her. Daemon wanted one realm. He had no sisters of his own to marry. He could marry Laena Velaryon, but she knew that a Targaryen Princess who rode a dragon would appeal to him more. That sadistic bastard would delight in taking the last person left with the right to rule this side of Westeros and bind her to him.
So when she was ordered to marry him, she agreed. Despite Alicent’s protests, she agreed.
She would marry him.
She would become his wife.
She would become his executioner.
She stares at the bottle of wine perched on the table. Her ladies left her alone. Alicent was the last to go, pressing a thin vial into her hand.
She could see the reluctance in her. Alicent was all she had left now, but she had to do this. For her family, she would kill this monster.
She waited for her husband to join her. The vial was now disposed of, and the bottle of wine opened as she poured wine for herself and her husband.
He entered the room so silently that she didn’t even notice him.
“Wife.”
Rhaenyra straightens and looks at him.
“Husband.”
His lips tilt at her tone. He enjoyed seeing her rage. He delighted in her hate.
It was the last thing he would see before he died.
She watched him pour wine into his own goblet. She picked up her own as she did his. She was about to drink as he was about to drink his own.
“Poison?”
She paused.
He looked at her humorously. As if she was a child who knew nothing.
She clenched her teeth.
“You might want to try it differently next time. Poison is easy to spot for someone who has been almost poisoned numerous times. I would then force the one who tried to kill me to drink the poison.”
He put his goblet down.
“But I have no intention to kill you, wife. Am I not a kind husband?” He mocked.
Rhaenyra quickly tried to drink her wine before he sprang forward and wrenched it out of her grasp.
“Now, now dearest, why would you do this? Dying so easily without even a second attempt? Are you so weak as to give up so easily? Here I thought you were a dragon.”
Rhaenyra snapped. She grabbed the bottle and swung it at him. He laughed as he jumped back. The bottle crashed on the floor, spilling the blood-red wine everywhere.
“A bit better. Element of surprise can work on your opponents. If they are stupid. Alas, I am not such a simpleton.”
“I will kill you.” She seethed. “I will rip off your head.”
“I look forward to seeing you try!” He cackled. “Until then, we are stuck together, my love.”
Rhaenyra glared at him, her hands clenched so hard she could feel the blood welling as her nails dug into her skin and opened the cut again. She watched as he walked towards the door.
“Where are you going?” She demanded.
He looked at her. “To my own chambers, of course. Unless you wish for me to stay with you.”
He looked pointedly at the bed.
Rhaenyra would swallow the poison before she lay with him.
“I thought so.” He shrugged. “Fear not, my love. I will not touch you until you ask me.”
As if she would ever do that.
With one last smirk, he walked out of her chambers.
Rhaenyra flung her goblet at the door.
She hears her husband laugh.
She will succeed next time. She won’t die tonight, but she will die soon.
And she will take this monster with her.