The Dragon of Highgarden

by FictionAuthorofFiction

Summary:

Aemma Arryn has a bad feeling about her pregnancy. She wakes nightly in terror at the thought of her impending death, but the birthing bed is her battlefield, so she will march on with grace. Until, that is, one night when her husband mentions marrying their eight nameday daughter to Ormond Hightower, a man of twenty and nine already, and heir to the House of Hightower. As much as Aemma loves her husband, she will not let her daughter be trapped as soon as she gets her moon blood to a viper.

Instead, she calls in a favor and House Tyrell. Matthos's heir, Lyonel, is only ten, and on his way to being a good man. A much better fit.

Chapter 1: A Mother's Choice

Aemma laid beside her sated husband, watching the shadows play on the ceiling. Her mind was racing. She had to fight herself to stay still and limp like a good wife when she felt like anything but.

To be fair, she was heavily pregnant, seven moons and swollen, so in that she was doing her duty. All should have been well. But it was not. She needed to plan.

Despite her name, Aemma considered herself very much an Arryn more than a Targaryen, even if her sisters... had reservations about it. She was the Falcon Princess, locked away in her Golden cage and domesticated in a way that made her wish to cry. Contrary to the belief of Elys and Amanda, she was not thrilled to be a queen.

No, she had the training to be a Lady and a Princess of the Blood but nothing more. It had been a shock when she was wed at ten and one to her cousin, Viserys, who was five years her elder. At that point, she did not expect to end up where she did. As Viserys's wife, she was a Princess, yes, but she had been nothing more. At first.

She had gotten pregnant quickly, and just nine months after her wedding, she gave birth the first time. Her firstborn, Viserys after his father, died at just hours old. Viserys had given her two months to grieve before they tried again. A daughter, Daella, had been born next, violet eyes unseeing from the beginning, lungs never breathing. By the time they were married four years, she had her third child, her Rhaenyra. Unlike her siblings that came before, Rhaenyra had been born screaming, demanding anything and everything she wanted. Rhaenyra was a dragon, made even more apparent when her cradle egg hatched into a beautiful yellow gold dragon.

Aemma had assumed, now that she was older, her pregnancies would be viable. After all, Rhaenyra had been a health child. Perhaps she had simply been too young, just two and ten when she had delivered Viserys.

She had been proven wrong, when after the celebrations of her daughters second nameday, she had given birth again. Gaemon had been born alive, but by nights end, he too joined Balerion's domain. Four pregnancies, all to the end, with three born alive, yet only one grew.

Then came her fifth. Rhaenyra was four when Aemma delivered twins, Daena and Elaena. Daena born dead, Elaena died by morning. That one almost killed her. She had been shocked to wake after passing out, but was grateful to spend more time with her Rhaenyra.

She was now in her sixth pregnancy, and had a bad feeling about it.

Which led to her innocent question, and thus, the dread that came with the answer. "What kind of man do you think Rhaenyra will love?"

Ten words.

Ten little words.

The answer?

"I believe Lord Hobert's son is a good match. Perhaps as soon as she gets her moon blood, they will wed."

Hobert Hightower's son, Ormond, was twenty and nine, a brute, and had already married twice. Both wives ended up dead in the birthing bed.  He was, after all, known for his tastes in younger women. He was not a kind man, nor was he a good one. A fanatic who believed that his wives were both lesser and subhuman because they lacked cocks. When they spoke out, no matter who the woman was, Ormond stuck.

The man was having a very hard time finding anyone stupid enough to marry their daughters to him, yet here sat Viserys, musing about it like it was nothing.

Viserys loved his daughter, doted on her, and spoiled her. But only when Aemma was not pregnant. When she was, Rhaenyra fell to the side,

The Hightower's, on the other hand... well, Viserys listened to them above all else. If he was considering marrying their daughter to a Hightower, then the idea most definitely was not his. Otto was interfering again.

Not for the first time, she understood why her other cousins referred to the man as Cuntower or Highwhore. Because she was not letting Otto clip her daughter's wings the way Aemma herself had been.

She mentally ran through a list of the Lord Paramount she knew. The Arryn's had Jeyne as Lady, and her niece had no heirs yet. The Baratheon's. Borros was a decade older than Rhaenyra, but he was also a bit of a pig. Velaryon had Laenor, but no, not him. The Seasnake's son did not belong anywhere near her daughter. Aemma did not like how Corlys looked at her daughter, so no. Lannister was a no, she wouldn't even consider chaining her daughter to Jason Lannister. Stark, perhaps. The heir, Rickon, was ten and six, a quiet man who seemed to embody the North in a way rarely seen. She liked the Starks, almost as much as she did the-

Oh.

Tyrell.

Matthos's heir, Lyonel, was a good boy. Ten namedays, a squire on his way to being knighted. He was a well learned man, studious, and most importantly, Oleana Tyrell, once Oleana Belemore, was his mother. Aemma and Oleana had played together as children, and Oleana had been one of her Ladies in Waiting when she had married Viserys. She had introduced Oleana to Matthos, and coordinated their betrothal. They also had a son who was just two namedays older.

While she didn't see her friend as often as she would like, she knew any child raised by the kind, caring Oleana would be kind and caring as well. Plus, Lyonel would one day be a Lord Paramount of the Mander, Warden of the South, and Lord of Highgarden.

He was a much better fit for Rhaenyra than some seven obsessed brute of a man. He could offer her much more too.

She turned in her bed, letting her hair fall over her shoulders as she looked down at Viserys. She could get him to change his mind, she thought, attaching her mouth to her husband's. She would.

If Rhaenyra was to marry young, as Aemma did before her, then it would be to someone who knew how to treat the treasure she was. Lyonel would be that man one day, and Aemma would make sure of it. She might not be able to save her daughter from a life of marriage too young, but she would be damned if she let anyone else force the girl into a life of misery.

Chapter 2: A Queen's Friend

"I need a favor from you, old friend."

Oleana Tyrell looked well. Her long blonde hair was braided in an elaborate style, while her blue eyes were shining in happiness. Oh she had changed the past eight years. It hurt Aemma's heart to have missed it, but she was oh so glad to see her friend was thriving in Highgarden.

Lady Tyrell exchanged puzzled looks with her husband, but dipped her head in agreement almost immediately. "Of course, your Majesty. Your humble servants would be honored to assist."

Aemma shook her head, golden hair making her aching head worse. "You misunderstand. I need not a favor from Lord and Lady Tyrell, but from my oldest, dearest friend Oleana and her husband. This is not the words of a queen, nor of a Targaryen, but simply Lady Aemma Arryn."

Blue eyes sparkled in worry as if understanding what Aemma could not bring herself to say. "Of course, Aem. How can we help?"

Oh, she did not deserve her old friend. Years of not seeing each other, yet Oleana was immediately on board with whatever Aemma could want, like they were girls sneaking strawberry tarts from the kitchens once more. But they were not. Those children were long gone, yet it was all of her hope in the child the other woman had been that made Aemma summon her to the Red Keep. Only Oleana could be trusted with her most precious possessions.

The once Arryn Queen took a deep breath, imagining the cold air from her home filling her lungs with power. "I need to know if you have betrothed Lyonel. If not, I need you to be willing to."

Matthos and Oleana seemed to freeze at the words. Whatever they had been expecting, it was clearly not this.

Yet Aemma pushed on relentlessly, as if she were the winter storms. "Viserys wants to marry Rhaenyra to Ormond Hightower as soon as she blooms. If Rhaenyra is like me, and she might be, then that will be early. She will be too young to know how to protect herself from scum like Ormond. And, gods forgive me, my daughter should not have to marry a man of almost thirty namedays when she has not yet reached her tenth. My daughter will be forced into the faith, will be forced to act as a wife to a brute, and I cannot stand the thought of Viserys supporting it, but he will. God's save us, but he will."

She bowed her head. "If Rhaenyra was another, any other, then perhaps she could survive the brute. But my daughter is what neither her father nor I have ever been. She is a dragon by blood, by mind. She is only eight, yet she has such a keen interest in politics. She has been raised to be the Queen of her brother, but, if this child is a girl, that will become her duty. If it lives. I cannot bare to see my daughter broken like I was when she was born to be Queen. Rhaenyra will bow to no man, and I fear that to be her downfall. The only solution I can possibly create is to marry her to someone who, at least, has a chance of understanding her. Who can love her, and who will not try to tear her bonds from her like ours were torn from us."

"Which is where Lyonel comes into play. You believe that he is the best choice for Rhaenyra?" Oleana gave her an odd look. "Aem, they do not know each other at all. They have no bond, except through their mothers."

Matthos nodded solemnly. "I understand the need for haste, your majesty, but our son is not yet ready for a wife. He is too young."

"And my daughter is any different?" Aemma asked, lifting a brow. "This is not what I wanted for my daughter, Matthos, Oleana. She deserves to be happy, to be what she is. Yet, I fear that choice will not be mine for much longer. Viserys grows tired of waiting. If he sets me aside, or sires a child to anyone else, my daughter's life will be in danger. This way, she will be safe. Young Lyonel will not brutalize her as Ormond would, correct?"

Oleana seemed almost insulted by the question. "Of course not. Our boy is kind and gentle. He is being raised as the next Lord Tyrell, to be loyal to those he gives his word to."

Aemma stayed silent, letting the couple in front of her think on their words as she shifted uncomfortably. She was tempted to tell her friend her suspicions, that she would not make it through another delivery, but she didn't dare. They needed to be confident.

If she could get them to agree to her insanity, then they could negotiate a contract between the three of them before the Hightower's could get their hands on her treasure. Ormond Hightower could pry her daughters hand from her cold, dead fingers.

"So, what is the plan?" Oleana asked softly, sipping her tea. "I know you have one, Aemma."

Lucky for them, she did. She had been thinking of little else since Viserys mentioned it. "If Rhaenyra is to become Lady Paramount via her marriage with Lyonel, then hopefully, Viserys's greed will keep him from looking too closely. I need your word, both of you, that some parts of the contract will be kept strictly between us and the children. My husband cannot know."

"Know what?" Matthos asked anxiously, running a hand through his crimson hair.

Knowing that they would at least be open to it, she laid out her plans. Lyonel and Rhaenyra would marry as soon as she got her first moon blood. There was no getting around that with Viserys. But, there would be no bedding ceremony. Lyonel would bed her exactly once, the night of the wedding, before she was four and ten. Rhaenyra would be given moon tea that night, and every night after for a week to ensure no pregnancy.

After she reached four and ten, the two would decide together when they were ready to be as man and wife, or have any children. Her daughter would not be forced into pregnancy after pregnancy. Rhaenyra would both keep her title as Princess of the Blood, and gain the titles matching her husband when Lyonel took his fathers place. The Highgarden would add in a structure of some sort for her daughters beloved Syrax.

In the technical aspects, Rhaenyra and Lyonel's firstborn son would be a Tyrell exclusively. Her other children could be Tyrell- Targaryen, if the parents wished. But, the firstborn son, and any others who did not have the Targaryen name, would not be allowed a Dragon egg. Any egg that the Targaryen children did have would have to come from Syrax. If Syrax did not lay, then they would have none. They could not try for an adult dragon either, since that would bring too much attention and the wrong type of power to Rhaenyra's children. If Aemma could survive with no dragon, so could her grandchildren.

Rhaenyra would have a large dowry, something suitable for the eldest princess of the King. She would also be in charge of her own household fully the moment she marries, which meant Aemma needed to teach her so much more before then. Rhaenyra would have her own apartments, two sets, one for just her, one for her and her husband, should they choose to share.

Should anything happen to Aemma, Rhaenyra would go straight to Highgarden with the Tyrells under the guise of getting to know her betrothed better. The wedding would not take place in the Red Keep, but instead, would be hosted in Highgarden as a lavish event as expected.

When married, Rhaenyra would automatically get the belongings of Aemma, the family jewelry, and all petrified eggs that was in the dragonpit. The last bit was mostly because Rhaenyra had such a fascination with them, and wanted to understand everything about what caused an egg to pretrify. Such a weird child, she had. Thankfully, she knew Viserys would have no issue with it, since they couldn't hatch, the King did not care.

Lastly, the little princess would get a full household, preferably before the marriage, and they would all be allowed to travel with Rhaenyra to Highgarden to continue their duties even after they married.

While yes, the contract was heavily biased, neither Tyrell seemed to mind. They knew exactly what having a Targaryen Princess was worth politically, socially, and more. Everything from Highgarden would be considered more luxurious since it came from the Princess's home, meaning they could raise the prices for their goods and no one could complain.

Her father had done the same with the Eyrie once he had married her mother, after all.

The only thing that mattered now, since all of their signatures were in place, was getting Viserys to agree. He wouldn't like it. But since both Matthos and Oleana had already signed, he wouldn't be able to deny them his signature without embarrassment. Especially since Aemma had signed.

Her only job now was to make him sign.

Oleana and Matthos, though, had a far more difficult job. They had to tell both Lyonel and Rhaenyra while Aemma was busy.

Hopefully, her daughter wouldn't throw too much of a fit. Of course, if Lyonel had his fathers hair, Aemma had a sneaking suspicion that Rhaenyra would be much more agreeable.

Honestly, she thought exasperated, dragons and their fire obsession would be the death of her. If the birthing bed didn't take her first.

Notes:

Aemma was originally only supposed to be in the prologue. Then we were supposed to time skip a few years. But Aemma had other plans, so now, here we are. I'm not mad about it. If she wants to be the main character for a bit, she deserves it.

Also, is anyone else having trouble opening the comments tab? Because I keep getting error 503 every time I try, which means I've now got 50 freaking comments and I can't see any of them unless I go through my email. Ugh. Am I missing something?

Chapter 3: A Wife's Duty

She had convinced him.

It had taken... delicate means, and bribery with even more in store for later, but she had convinced Viserys that the best place for their daughter was by the side of Lyonel Tyrell. After all, the Tyrell's were extremely loyal to House Targaryen, and perhaps being trained as a Lady Paramount will help settle their daughter. He had been hesitant, but after a few favors, he had agreed.

She really was surprised how much she had hated the acts, but as a wife, it was her duty to endure.

To the surprise of everyone except her, Rhaenyra had taken the news exceptionally well. The girl had taken the introductions with grace and charm, but the moment she turned her eyes to Lyonel, she apparently said something no one expected.

"You know your hair is on fire, right? How do you do that? Can I do that?"

Aemma had rolled her eyes so hard it made them ache when she heard. Lyonel had particularly vibrant red hair, which apparently looked very fire-like to her eight nameday daughter. Thankfully, he'd taken it in good humor and explained that no, he hadn't lit his hair on fire, see, not hot at all, and no, you probably shouldn't light your own hair on fire.

It really was just like Rhaenyra, who's two favorite things in the world were Syrax and fire. The girl loved the flames, loved everything about it, from the way the embers crackled to the smell of smoke, Rhaenyra loved it all.

It helped that Rhaenyra loved to talk about the things she liked, and fire was... definitely a topic heard most from her.

Honestly, she thought exasperatedly, Rhaenyra would marry a torch if it were possible. Aemma had caught her daughter practically trying to crawl into the fire. Multiple times. Such a weird child she had.

Luckily, Rhaenyra seemed... alright. Not thrilled, but fine. She had proceeded to steal Lyonel's hand and drag him somewhere. Aemma suspected the dragonpit.

She suppressed a groan as she leaned back in her chair, body aching from the growing weight inside of her. Hopefully the dragon would like the boy. Rhaenyra had turned against people that Syrax disliked instantly. Several times actually.

To be fair, Syrax had a reason to be overprotective most of the time, the dragon had burned more than a few people who thought that the princess alone, with only a small dragon as company, would be an easy target. Of course, none of the would be assassins, slave traders, or other less intelligent people realized that even a small dragon could be viciously protective.

The only odd part was that little dragons normally preferred using their claws to tear apart their victims, while Syrax almost exclusively stuck to burning them. Aemma definitely would never tell anyone the reason that she suspected that the dragon stuck to fire had less to do with instincts and more to do with Rhaenyra's delight at the flames.

"Mama, mama!"

The door to her chambers burst open, revealing an exhausted and sooty looking Oleana and Matthos, a beaming Rhaenyra, and a very confused looking lad with very red hair.

She had to hide a laugh behind her hand. The children were clearly fine, but Matthos clearly looked almost traumatized by her daughter. Really, she had warned them that Rhaenyra was no falcon or wyrm. Rhaenyra was a rambunctious dragon, a delightful and adorable dragon who bounced around when she was happy, but a dragon nonetheless.

Her daughter looked windblown, not surprising, Aemma knew Rhaenyra rode Syrax daily. Her dress, a simple but pretty red gown, was a bit wrinkled, but still in one piece. Rhaenyra's silver hair had been braided back, but it seemed as if almost half had fallen down around her face anyway. She beamed and bounced in place as she locked eyes with her mother.

"Hello, Nyra. Is everything okay?" Aemma asked, eyeing her friend for a moment.

Rhaenyra threw her head back and laughed. "Mama, mama, you should have seen it! I was introducing Squire Lyonel to Syrax and she was being all huffy, but she likes him, she just wanted a sheep- bribe! So, we went outside, and this man tried to rob us! Or, something, I didn't really hear him because I was too busy trying to get out of the way, since Syrax was right there. But he started coming towards me and Squire Lyonel was really brave, did you know he doesn't have fire in his hair?, and he picked up a rock and bonked him in the head! Then Syrax got a little too happy and, Lord and Lady Tyrell came out to see what the fuss was, and, well."

The queen had to resist the urge to laugh, yet again. Ah, children and their... words. While she instinctively knew with Syrax around, her daughter wouldn't be harmed, she was exasperated that someone had tried to hurt her daughter yet again. The first few hundred times, she had panicked, but now? Well, as long as Syrax was around, Rhaenyra would be safe.

She made a mental note to have an extra sheep brought for the dragon as a reward.

Lyonel hadn't needed to step in, especially because they had been with a dragon, but the boy still acted courageously to protect the princess. Yes, she had made the right choice. People who were willing to stand against a threat so young were rare, and she knew Lyonel would help Syrax keep their princess alive.

"Is the man dead then?" She asked lightly.

Rhaenyra's head bobbed up and down. "Syrax wasn't happy. She was really annoyed actually." The princess paused, looking puzzled. "She said that the fire-haired one had her thanks, but for the elders to stay out of the way of her smoke?"

Ah, that was odd for Syrax. Normally, the feisty dragon didn't mind burning anyone or anything stupid enough to get in her way of protecting Rhaenyra. For the two to simply have smoke damage instead of any actual burns meant that Syrax had held back for some reason. In fact, she must have blown simply smoke at them, a punishment perhaps for not watching the princess better.

Syrax was, by far, the most beautiful dragon, with her Golden scales, but she was not... exactly the kindest. Syrax, according to Rhaenyra, either had a neutral or negative opinion of everyone with very few exceptions. The dragon strongly disliked Viserys, and probably would have burnt him if Rhaenyra had allowed it, and she was neutral towards Aemma. Though, to be fair, Aemma rarely saw the dragon since her move to the dragonpit.

Daemon received a neutral response, as did Laenor. The dragon didn't like them, but wouldn't go out of her way to harm them either unless they got too close. Rhaenys, Corlys, and Laena though... well, there was a reason Syrax's cavern was so far removed from where the others rested when in King's Landing.

Ironically, Rhaenyra mirrored Syrax's opinion on everyone, except Daemon and her. Aemma's little ball of sunshine adored her mother and her uncle. Which made Aemma... slightly uncomfortable. She had a feeling Rhaenyra was influencing the way Syrax felt about Daemon, more than Syrax actually putting up with the man.

But, alas, that was a question to ponder alone. She fully turned her attention to the young lad, studying him carefully. There was no arrogance in his green eyes, nor was there anything negative that she could see. The boy looked away, glancing towards Rhaenyra and softened? Fondness, perhaps. It was odd to see, since Rhaenyra rarely had luck with chsrming anyone around her age, yet Lyonel seemed both fond and resigned almost to her nature.

Good, he would treat her well then.

Before she could respond and inquire further, a sharp knock made her features go blank. She glanced out the window, only slightly surprised to see that the sun was starting to set. "Why don't you four have dinner together tonight, hm?"

Oleana could read her, could tell instantly how much she needed them to leave, and immediately started wrangling Rhaenyra towards the door. "Come now, children, let us leave the queen to rest. We wouldn't want her to be stressed, would we?"

Her sunshine pouted, wide eyes sad, but understanding. "Fine." She grumbled. "But I'm coming back for stories at bedtime, mama."

"I cannot, Rhaenyra. How about we read together tomorrow night instead?" She hated turning down her daughter, but she really didn't want Viserys getting any other brilliant ideas about their daughter. Which meant she needed to keep them apart.

She could see Rhaenyra wanting to whine, but the girl kept quiet and simply nodded instead. The little princess let her herself be led, but stopped at the door. "I love you mama. I love you baby brother. Goodnight."

Aemma melted at the gentle words of her sweet sunshine. "We love you too, Nyra. Sweet dreams, my sunshine."

Notes:

Ah, fair warning for the next chapter (yes I will put it in the tags and chapter notes as well), but there will be a major character death in the next chapter. Its also a cannon event, so take that as you will.

Chapter 4: A Woman's Battlefield

Notes:

Warning! Warning!

This chapter contains the cannon death of a character (Aemma), the cannon death of an infant (Baelon), traumatic birth gone wrong, and a major PoV shift to Rhaenyra

Again, Aemma deserves better, as does Rhaenyra. But only one gets a happy ending, unfortunately.

When Aemma felt that familiar pain tearing through her body, a bolt of hatred followed. It surprised her, would have brought her to her knees if she had been able to stand in the first place. She bit back the urge to scream and curse for a moment, as it wasn't Queenly behavior.

She called for her maids to spread the news: the Queen was in Labor with the future Prince or Princess. Viserys started his stupid tourney in honor of the babe, as he had done with every birth of hers prior.

Grand Maester Orwyle, the Hightower's pawn, attendee to her as always. He seemed worse than usual, muttering insults every few minutes since Viserys was not here. But when he smirked at her, after sixteen long hours, she knew.

He was going to ensure that Aemma didn't survive.

It was that same smirk that was always present when he told her that her children were dead. She loathed the man, wanted anyone else by her side, but Viserys had put his foot down and refused her. He had called her paranoid. After all, the man was a Grand Maester, why would he harm her?

She had to fight the urge to tell him that Orwyle would have killed anyone and everyone that Otto Hightower had disliked.

To be fair to the man, she did not know for certain if he was actually killing her children, but those who were born alive always died in his care. Even when she had tried to keep her babes from the man, Viserys would steal them from her side and bring them to the rat. He never listened.

That did not mean that Aemma believed Viserys wanted her dead. No, she knew he loved her as much as he could. He doted on her, especially when she was pregnant. He desired her, just not more than he desired to please the Hand. It was sickening.

It was pure luck that Viserys came to her side during the labor, he never had before. She had hoped that he would see what she did. But he did not. No matter how many times she screamed, how much she begged, her husband believed only Hightower's pawn.

"She's simply hysterical, your grace. Seeing things. You know how weak women are." Orwyle had told Viserys.

The king just nodded, looking at her as if she was a thing beneath him to be pitied. As if she wasn't his Queen, his wife, and a woman who had faced the battlefield of the birthing bed several times before.

Instead, he simply patted her hand, smiling gently at her. "Its alright, my love. The Grand Maester will take care of you and our son."

"No, he won't, Viserys, listen to me!" She tried again. But she knew he would not. Not when she was like this.

When Orwyle pulled her husband to the side, muttering something she couldn't hear, Aemma hoped, prayed to the Fourteen, that something would set off an alarm in her husband. She wanted her Viserys to keep her safe. To keep their son safe. Orwyle would do something to their son, she knew it.

But Viserys...

He looked brokenly at her, avoiding her eyes, and simply nodded. "Do it."

No, she thought wildly, no! He was supposed to protect her! He was supposed to love her! What was he doing? She got her answer in moments, and wished she had never asked.

It happened so quickly. One moment she was reaching for her husband, needing his strength, the next, six attendants were holding her down while Orwyle slowly approached, holding a large knife. He sliced her from sex to tits, her blood painted the room as she screamed in agony. Orwyle reached into her belly, pulling the babe from her womb, smirking smugly while mouthing something.

"Long live the Queen."

The last thing she heard was soft cries of her child, before the blood loss pulled her into the realm of the dead.

---

Rhaenyra held herself tightly, arms wrapped around herself as silent tears streamed down her face. She spared a single look at Syrax, before the whisper left her lips.

"Dracarys, Syrax."

For a moment, her Golden Lady hesitated. Rhaenyra mentally begged her bonded to not make her say it again. This should not have been their responsibility, they both knew it, but there was no other choice. It had to be at her command. Thankfully, Syrax understood, lighting the funeral pyre lined with two bodies, a smaller resting in the arms of the large one.

Baelon.

Another name joining the rest of her siblings in Balerion's domain. Viserys, Daella, her, Gaemon, Daena, Elaena, now Baelon and her mama. All of them were gone, leaving her alone. Again.

Everyone left her, except for Syrax.

She didn't understand it, Baelon had been born screaming like she had. Yet, it was only after he went silent, roughly half a day from his birth, that she was allowed in to see him. She wasn't allowed to hold him, only Viserys and the Grand Maester could. She didn't understand why he got weaker and weaker with every passing hour when he had been so healthy.

So why did she have to burn him too?

Lady Martell approached with Squire Lyonel once the embers were all that remained. Rhaenyra wasn't sure how long she had been standing there, silent, blankly, but she was grateful for the company. If only to hear the thought neither she nor Syrax could fully suppress.

"Mama would still be alive if I was born right." She whispered softly. "If I was born a boy, mama wouldn't have been killed trying to birth an heir. Do you think... do you think father could have loved me if I was a boy?"

Lady Tyrell sobbed softly. "Oh, darling, no. Its not your fault. You were not born wrong, princess. You were born exactly how the gods wanted you to be. Your mama loved you just the way you are, never forget that, alright?"

Rhaenyra just shrugged. It was her fault. She knew it was, but she wasn't supposed to correct adults. It was rude. Everything she did was rude and wrong. "I will not blame you, by the way. If you wish to break the contract. Mama's not here anymore, and I know you did it for her."

The thought made her... more sad. She had only known the Tyrell's for a few weeks, yet she had liked Lyonel. He was nice, patient, and didn't make fun of her or yell at her for liking what she did the way everyone else did. Every time she apologized for going on, he always asked why and prompted her to finish what she was saying.

No one else did that.

Rhaenyra would miss it, but maybe it was for the best. She was alone now, and that meant she couldn't be what she wanted anymore. She had to be what the court and her father required if she wanted to not join her siblings so soon.

Squire Lyonel moved closer, putting his hands on her shoulders as he stared into her eyes, lavender meeting icy green. He sighed softly, pulling her into his arms tightly. "Our house words are 'Growing Strong'. A plant without roots is doomed to wilt. It is weak, and it will never thrive. Let us be your roots. We won't leave. I promise I won't leave you."

Oh.

Oh, this was new. He felt warm, solid as if he could hold her together while she battled the storm of emotions raging inside her chest. She wasn't ready, yet, to fully let him in. They hadn't known each other long enough, but she could...

She leaned further into him, burying her face in his chest as she hid from the world. She couldn't break down with everyone now watching her, but surely the court wouldn't judge her for this?

"Do you," Lyonel asked softly, voice causing his chest to move as she leaned heavier on him, "do you think the two of you would allow me to ride with you, Princess? I think you will feel less overwhelmed in the skies, but I don't think you should be alone right now."

Syrax flooded their bond with warmth and amazement, bowing her head slightly to her betrothed. Rhaenyra was surprised. No one wanted to ride a dragon with her, not even mama. Syrax wasn't big enough for, say, two adults to ride, yet, but her Golden Lady could handle the two of them without trouble.

Would she feel better in the skies, she wondered, curling tighter in his arms. Maybe? She felt things intensely, always had. This was far from the first time she had dealt with grief. No, usually, she hid in Syrax's cave for a while, and, when she finally felt in control of herself, she would take to the skies. Or just a high place, since she had only recently begun to ride her Golden Lady. The wind on her face, drying her tears and holding her tightly as they raced, had helped before.

But right now?

She clutched his shirt tightly.

Right now she didn't want to go anywhere. If she moved, she would break apart in so many pieces that she could never be put back together again. Thankfully, he didn't pull away. He just held her, keeping her warm. He didn't even flinch when Syrax moved to wrap around them, warming the air further with her heat.

This time, it wasn't just the two of them trying to hide their grief from her already brokenhearted mother. No, this time they had someone who wanted to help her carry the feelings. If she could be brave enough to accept it.

Rhaenyra Targaryen was a dragon, shaped by grief and fire, who had grown up with the knowledge that if she had a cock, her mothers suffering would never have happened. And yet, perhaps, she could be more one day.

Growing Strong, huh?

Notes:

Rest in Peace Aemma. I wasn't expecting you to hijack my story, but I'm definitely not mad about it. You did good.

Chapter 5: A Princess Returns

Rhaenyra glanced over at her husband, watching as his red hair seemed to look like a flaming halo around his head from the sunset. When they had first met, she was but eight namedays, and she had been fascinated immediately by the boy whose hair looked like fire, and eyes as green as Syrax's.

She loved fire.

She loved Syrax.

The dragon in her was drawn to the flames. Perhaps not in a way a woman looks at her husband, but she had been curious. Her mother had arranged the betrothal that same day and Rhaenyra had not done more than pout a bit. She knew herself well enough to know that if her intended had been anyone else, things would not have gone well at all.

They married when she was ten and one, but her mother... had not been there. No, Aemma had died in her battlefield just two moons after their betrothal contract was signed. While her step mother tried to break the contract, she had failed, and thus, Rhaenyra was married two moons after coming into her moon blood, as per the arrangement at ten and one.

She'd been wisked away to Highgarden the next day, where she remained until now. Now, she was twenty and seven, and a mother of six boys and a girl, and was pregnant with another accidental child.

Alester Tyrell, her eldest, had just turned ten and one, along with his twin brother, Baelor Arryn- Tyrell. Caelon Targaryen- Tyrell came next, at nine namedays, then Daeserys Targaryen- Tyrell, who was six, and finally, Aemma and Aemon were two.

Alester would be the future Warden of the South when she and Lyonel passed, and was betrothed to the second daughter of Borros Baratheon, Maris. Baelor was betrothed at birth to her cousin, Jeyne's heir, Lady Lorra Arryn. The others had no contracts, yet, but both parents had a few ideas in mind.

They had time to think, as they wanted to ensure that any and all matches made were in the best interest of their children.

The newest pregnancy, and it would be her last,  had been what caused the summons. Of that, she was sure. As much as she wanted to deny the invitation, she couldn't. Mostly because it was not an invite, as much as it was a direct summons from the King.

All of her previous pregnancies had been kept quiet, a secret of Highgarden. Sure, people knew that there was an heir born to the Tyrell house, but no one knew more than that. Not one of Otto's spies knew when her children were born, nor did any of the gray rats so much as enter her home. No, they had hired healers from Essos when they locked down Highgarden.

Rumors, after all, had been spreading that Rhaenyra was barren for years. Everyone was under the impression that, because Rhaenyra did not get pregnant immediately, she was unable to conceive at all. She was fairly certain the Hightower's had started the rumors, since Otto and his spies had kept an extremely close watch on her when she first married.

After the first five years of no announcements, everyone believed it too. They had played in her favor, as most believed the princess had simply struggled to produce a single heir like her mother had before her.

But that had not been why she had no children young. That had been due to the contract and her husband not wanting her dead. Lyonel had been content to wait until she was ready. Everything from their second kiss, and onwards, had been on her terms.

She refused to be her mother to any man, and was grateful that Lyonel had easily agreed with every boundary. Every child they had, except for the one in her belly currently, had been her choice. They had been planned, dreamed about, and eagerly waited for until their arrival.

This one... frankly, she wasn't certain how this one had happened, as she regularly drank moon tea, not wanting any more children after her beloved Aemma and Aemon were born. She hadn't noticed at first, but once she did... well, she was strict on this being her last pregnancy.

It was a rough one, mostly causing her extreme dizziness and fainting spells that made the healers ban her from Syrax until after she delivered. Her nausea had yet to disappear, even though she was constantly hungry. The worst of it, though, was the exhaustion she could not shake. She was only five moons into this, yet she was dreaming of the day her babe would be in her arms simply so she could stop the awfulness of pregnancy.

She wondered if her mama had suffered as she did, but simply hid it better. Or perhaps, she was simply unobservant. Then again, considering the agony her mother had gone through, and that the birthing bed had killed her, Rhaenyra was just grateful she had an easier time.

Rhaenyra wasn't entirely certain how the news of her pregnancy had been leaked, or how none of her others had been in the past, but she was certain of one thing. Her father and his... wife were in for a very surprising day.

After all, Rhaenyra was less than a few days travel from the Red Keep. She could have visited whenever she chose, yet she did not step foot in King's Landing until, well, she had no choice. Mostly because she loathed her father and his... wife.

The affair started just three moons after her mothers death, perhaps earlier. Her maid, Lady Alicent, had been caught in her fathers room by Uncle Daemon. In order to protect the girl, who was ten and four at the time, her father married Lady Alicent. Lady Alicent, who was by birth, a child of House Hightower, a house under the eye of House Tyrell and the Reach as a whole.

When Rhaenyra's good mother, Oleana, had heard of the affair, she had Lord Hobert dragged to court to apologize on his knees for his neices despicable behavior. He had to publicly call Lady Alicent a whore and a sinner who turned against the Faith. Lady Alicent was banned from Old Town for life, and could only go to a single Sept in punishment.

The woman, though seemingly distraught, had popped out a new heir to the Throne less than a year after her marriage. Seven months in fact. It brought shame to House Hightower to the point that the Septon and Septa refused to have anything to do with the prince for an entire year after his birth.

Aegon came first, when Rhaenyra was still just eight. Then came Helaena two years later, Aemond a year later, then finally, Daeron. Aegon was now ten and nine, Helaena ten and seven, Aemond ten and six, and Daeron ten and one.

Ironically, Laena, her cousin, married Uncle Daemon a month before Rhaenyra's own wedding, and had three children soon after, twins Baela and Rhaena, who were four and ten and Baelon, who was three and ten, their youngest. Laena was only ten and three at their wedding, but seemed fine with it, running off with the prince of her dreams.

All of the drama between the family was oh so fun to watch. Daemon and his Velaryon allies, who were known as the Black Faction, made a move to gain power. It was almost immediately mirrored by the Hightower's and their Green Faction. They each played her father like an instrument, while Rhaenyra hid away and grew her own family.

No one would be expecting the woman she had become, nor her children. They were coming in as Lord Paramount, since her good father had passed only a few moons ago while he was in King's Landing, and his Lady wife. While the Targaryen- Velaryon family fueded with the Targaryen- Hightower line, she had kept herself very much out of it.

From what she had been hearing, their families were destroying themselves without her having to do a single thing. Otto had lost the youngest boy, Daeron, a month ago because he had believed the child to be bonded to Vermithor, and thus, sent him to Dragonstone along with the second son Aemond. Only, Daeron wandered into the wrong cave, stumbling across the Cannibal instead of the King's Mount. Poor thing.

Aemond had tried, and failed, to bond with every single dragon he could find, but it only resulted in him getting half of his face melted off by an annoyed Silverwing. Oddly, no dragon wanted the boy, and any egg he touched supposedly went cold instantly. Some said he was no child of Viserys Targaryen, but a child of a Dragonseed that had been cursed.

The eldest boy, Aegon did have a dragon, a young one called Sunfyre, but it was... malformed.

As for Daemon and Laena's children, the twins had hatchlings stolen from Dragonstone that had grown. One named Morning, the other Moondancer. The youngest boy never had a bond.

She smirked as a shadow passed over the carriage. Syrax had grown larger and more fearsome. Her girl had spent her time hunting, instead of simply being fed, and had discovered a... taste for human flesh, making her even more vicious. Any crime against the House of Tyrell was swiftly met with death via Syrax.

Speaking of dragons, excluding her two oldest children who were not Targaryen by name only, the rest of her children did indeed have hatchlings of various ages. Syrax had disappeared one winters day, and had come back to lay a clutch of six gold and silver eggs. Because of their coloring, she suspected the father to be Gray Ghost, but she did not question it. According to the contract, the eggs belonged to her descendants, so long as they held the name Targaryen.

Caelon had a female dragon called Tessarion, who was mostly gold with silvery wings. Daeserys had a male, Vermax, who looked silver with yellow gold speckles on him. Aemma's hatchling was Shrykos, a female who had the prettiest gold to silver ombre scales in the world, only second to Syrax in beauty. Finally, Aemon had Gaelithox, a male dragon with dark silver scales. It was interesting to watch the dragons grow with their bonded child.

Which meant, the so called Green's had a single dragon to their name, via Aegon and Sunfyre. The Blacks had Daemon and Caraxes, Rhaenys and Meleys, Laenor and Seasmoke, Baela and Moondancer, and Rhaena and Morning. One sickly dragon verses five wasn't really a fair fight. However. Considering the army under the Hightower's command, masquerading as those who followed the Faith, the battle would be much more even.

Hopefully, they would tear each other apart and leave her and her family alone. If they did not, she had five dragons as well under her watch, although all were still young except for Syrax. But her Golden Lady was more than capable of outsmarting most.

"Lovely?" Lyonel muttered from beside her, "are you nervous?"

Ah, how lucky she had gotten with her husband and his family. Lyonel Tyrell was no longer the young boy he had been. He had grown into a man, tall and broad, with the same fiery locks she had once been so fascinated by. His eyes were still the same pale green that she had grown to love, and he was still just as dependable as he had always been.

Theirs had not been a love story in the beginning, but a desperate attempt of a mother to save her young daughter. Eventually, her fascination him grew as he encouraged her to be who she was. He stayed by her side as she grieved her mother, just as she had stayed by him when he lost his father.

Unlike her father, who let rumors of his wife and daughter go ignored, Lyonel was intense with his defense of her and their children. He tolerated no disrespect towards his family, no matter who the other party was. He had sent people to punishment for simply speaking poorly of her when they first wed.

Speaking of her father, she knew this was yet another of his wild plans. He wished to marry Baela, Daemon's daughter to Aegon, while marrying Helaena to Baelon, and Rhaena to Aemond. This was supposed to mend the rift between their family, according to her father in all of his... wisdom.

Thus, calling her back under the guise of the pregnancy, possibly to trap her in the Red Keep once again.

"Promise you won't let them keep me?" She whispered softly.

He pulled her closer into his side, allowing her to curl up under his arm. "Grow Strong, remember?"

"Mhm." He would keep her safe. As would Syrax when she was able. Their household would keep the children safe too.

All they had to do was show up for a few weeks, then they could return to their little paradise.

They would keep growing strong together.

Notes:

And, that's a wrap folks. I did leave it kinda open in case I wanted to play around in this world again later, but I'm content. The Black's and Greens are destroying each other, and Rhaenyra is keeping neutral. After all, while the Tyrell family colors are green and gold, they did remain neutral at first.

Considering I wrote the last three chapters in, hm, a day?, I think it turned out okay. I'll do some edits and clean it up a bit after some sleep. Let me know what you think of this pairing! I really like the idea of Rhaenyra marrying Alicent's family's lord.

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 3 of House of the Dragon Stories