Chapter Text
The first year of her father's reign, was coming to its end. Rhaena knew that it would be a troubled reign, it hadn't even been three weeks since her grandfather, the great Aegon the Conqueror, had died, that whispers of rebellion had already spread through half of Westeros.
Rhaena was currently four and ten namedays, and yet her father had already bethothed her to her brother Aegon, whom sincerely she didn't like very much. Well, she
didn't fancy the idea, she mentally corrected herself. Her brother was charming, to say the least, a strong personality, loving to evryone but far too intelligent for a boy his age according to Maesters to which Rhaena agreed.
Since both her parents had been split on the decision of what to do to placate the rebellions as best as possible, they had decided to quickly announce the betrothal between their eldest children and whisk them away to Dragonstone. Of course, it had only done the opposite effect, causing the Faith to grow in discontent.
Rhaena didn't like at all the islan she was on. Dragonstone may be the ancestral home of her grandfather, but it certainly didn't feel welcoming. Days were gloomy to say the least, clouds covering the sky, salt air constantly. Rhaena couldn't sleep with the constant sound of the waves. And if this "free vacation" as her parents called it, was somehow a plot to make her comfortable with her brother and the fact that they would be the future monarchs of Westeros, well it was failing to say the least. Rhaena preferred to spend her days on her companion, Dreamfyre, the lazy blue female dragon she loved to take for flights and the first of the rising generation of hatchlings even though hers was an adolescent. She loved to fly, explore the island, flying above the Lowlands where tons of scattered sheep lived right for her beast to hunt, even though if the smallfolk often complained. But alas, she could not take Dreamfyre near the Highlands or the Dragonmont, where the Cannibal lived. She had seen once, the massive monster of black with green eyes that had chased her till the fortress where he had been roared at by Balerion and Vhagar.
On the other hand, Aegon was different. Not just was he three years younger than her but he had no dragon to fly next to her. None of her siblings actually did have one, only her father had Quicksilver, uncle Maegor had just claimed Baerion and there was the other one, the witch, with Vhagar. Aegon preferred to spend hidden days in the sparring courtyard or in the boring lessons with the Maesters talking about mathematics and laws. Unlike her, Aegon wanted to be the perfect heir to their father. Most of the time, when they were free, one would be in the gardens, the other in the library. The only time they met and saw each other in an entire day, was at dinner. They didn't even sleep in the same rooms, but she preferred that, it had been her mother insisting they were too young yet, they had to at least wait for the betrothal.
And also, unlike her brother, Rhaena actually wanted to help her father to deal with these small rebellions that had started, mainly because of the Faith. Which led her to what she was doing right now.
If there was anything she had learned of useful during the Maesters lessons was the Yi tish black powder. A small powder made from soil, carbon and other substances she had yet to learn which were flammable. The Yi tish used these for entertainment purposes, called fireworks. In what Rhaena saw fun, she saw a potential weapon. That could help her for these rising attacks.So she had saved some money from her allowances and had bought an entire box of fireworks from a Yi Tish merchant at the market, today. She was currently putting them into position facing the sky, many called her reckless for her wild ideas, but well, to stay heir to the Iron Throne, you had to put a show or rather a spectacle in this case. She had somehow managed to bring a chandelier here with the flames whipping left and right due to the wind. She wanted to be discreet so Dreamfyre had not been and option to light these strange objects.
She had been careful not to warn anyone on this plan, not a single maid or stable boy warned. They would all except the perfect little daughter of the king to be flying on her mount rather than testing what could potentially alter weaponry in Westeros. Rhaena didn't understand why neither her father nor her grandfather had used Wildfire when they faced a rebellion, yes it was a very explosive and deadly liquid but it could have helped during the First Dornish War, where her grandmother and Meraxes ha died. One person Rhaena had never met. As for her father, well his reign had JUST started after all, but he probably didn't want anything to do with dangerous substances for the reputation that the other one, the Witch, had.
The other inconvenient of living on Dragonstone, was that Rhaena was under the surveillance of her Great-aunt Visneya, the last of the trio of Conquerors and considered by many a witch. Still, she was useful as it was hers and Vhagar's presence that kept the Cannibal from burning the fortress down to the ground. Oh how proud she would be to see that it wasn't a member of her non-existent descendants for now that was learning Valyrian substances.
Rhaena stopped thinking and grabbed the chandeliers cold metal bar before lifting it heavily and slowly, very, very carefully, she crouched to place a tiny flicker of flame on the first firework. Once the string started burning, she got back up and took a few steps back to enjoy the show. Her parents better not refuse her project that she had been pouring her mind in for months, after all, it was for the better of the Realm, right?
She hadn't noticed how soon, the string burned completely and bye went the fireworks. A satisfied smirk made its way on her face but soon faded. No explosion came, it had to, right?
No, no, her plan could NOT be failing, not after pouring days of begging via letters, her parents to send more coin for her to buy these. It was supposed to explode. She waited some time.....nothing came.
Rhaena kicked the chandelier down the cliff in frustration watching as it fell till the bar broke on the wet stones below and the flame disappeared. She felt like a child taken its favorite toy or sweet, a petulant one at that. Rhaena stormed off, going back towards the fortress. Her boots crumpled what bare grass there was on the island as she went down the slope towards the bridge, soon the gates which were of course opened. The two Targaryen men wearing livery, were surprised to see her, probably since she had sneaked off without saying anything, but after seeing she was in a mood, they let her be.
Barely minutes later, she entered the dinning Hall where the chimney was on, the flames eating the logs and the table also set with its chairs, all wooden. She came to a halt to dig uncomfortably her nails inside the wooden chair as was her habit when she was stressed. Her simple black dress was pouring a few waterdrops around her as she looked to the window where rain had started to fall. Thank the gods she had come in on time. No, in fact, NO. Fuck the gods, she cursed mentally, for they had decided to ruin her weaponry plans and know she had to start from zero and prove once again to the entire continent, that she wasn't a good heir.
"Rhaena".
She jumped and pushed a small squeal as a hand tapped her shoulder and she turned, to come face to face with her brother. Also in a simple black doublet, his bony, pale face, expressionless and she being a few heads taller than him.
"What?" She asked her tone surprisingly icy that even she herself was surprised. These days, she didn't really want to see her brother, especially now that her plans hadn't gone accordingly. She realised, her stomach sinking, that she would have to ask help to the Witch. Visenya was after all constantly sending letters to King’s Landing, requesting to send the barrels of Wildfire.
"Uncle Daemon wishes for us to have dinner with him" her brother delivered with his constant dry tone. She sighed and dropped her head on her arms. Another disadvantage of being heir to the Iron Throne, was that she had to now make alliances, mostly being Crownlords to get familiar with the region and to start "her own queenly court" as her mother described it. Or rather "the nest of vipers your parents live in" as Visenya described. Sincerely, she preferred the latter.
Daemon Velaryon was the Lord of High tide and Driftmark and the Master of Ships on her father's council. He was the brother, to her mother, the Queen Alyssa Velaryon, thereby, her uncle, who these days was making a fine job at unnerving her by bombarding her afternoon with meetings and dinners.
Aegon opened once more his muouh but Rhaena shot him a glare, silencing him in an instant. She certainly did not want to suffer his antics right now or his pity, if he was going to apologise which was rare. She was sure the staff betted to see how many times did he apologise to so much as ANYONE in the entire fortress. But alas, she could not afford to have a bad relationship with him. They were after all the most powerful couple in Westeros after her parents.
And the one with the most gossip, that was a certainty.
"Didn't say I warned you, wer'e already late. Also, where were you? I've been searching for you for the last hour and it's setting me off that you are distant. People are already talking about it at court." Sometimes it was hard to forget he was one and ten namedays old. But Rhaena didn't need any specification on who they were talking about. Obviously, her mother, the Queen Alyssa was probably cooking some twisted rumour to spread very soon.
It was hard to know that this brat would would one day be king and her husband and yet Rhaena couldn't fathom the idea of having children with him. It wasn't a conceivable idea.
"Well let them whisper things, you know how Mother is, always twisting something here and there, playing a grand scheme. Anyways, didn't you say we were late, let's go." said Rhaena before wrapping her arm around her brother's which was strange since she was taller than him. Quite taller. The two siblings left the dinning Hall to welcome their uncle to Dragonstone as their boots echoed, the sound bouncing off the walls.
Rhaena wondered, what could her uncle possibly want at this hour, coming from Driftmark in the middle of a rainstorm as this one?
Well, at least she would figure it out during lunch.