Chapter Text
In a world where her family was the only one capable of wielding dragons, she was far more interested in soulmarks and their mythology. She had known her whole life that she was to have a dragon one day, to bond with one, as was her birthright. It came naturally ; as simple and factual as the idea that the sun would rise on the morrow. A dragon egg was put in her cradle as a babe, and it hatched to reveal her lovely life-companion, Lyrax.
But to get a soulmark was something rather rare and all the more exciting.
Soulmarks were the product of an ancient magic. They were said to have appeared for the first time to the Conqueror and his sisters during the Conquest, and had since spread to the entire population. She was fascinated by their looks, their shapes, their alignment with the human anatomy, whenever they appeared. She remembers stroking her grandsire's only soulmark for hours on end when he held her during supper. It was a dove, etched on the inner part of his forearm. She had never asked, but it was common knowledge that his mark represented his late wife Aemma. No other soulmark ever appeared on him, even when his next wife, Alicent, bore him 4 children and cared for him in his ailing years. She supposes that explained a lot about her mother's other siblings and the strained bond they had.
Her mother had four soulmarks. It was unusual, but not all soulmarks were romantic, as it was often stated.
She had an anchor and a sailor's knot on her wrist. That, she knew was for Laenor, her father. He himself had a ruby ring etched on his hand, and it was her mother's actual wedding ring he had given her. The realm could spread gossip however they wanted about her mother's former marriage, but she knew that theirs was a union of love. Laenor had held them all, taken care of them, given them his name, his fortunes and his protection, taught them sailor's chants and how to swim, and he had loved them, her and Jacaerys, Lucerys and Joffrey. It was not the conventional type of love, but her parents had been soulmates.
Hidden on her mother's hip, was a tree with strong roots. This was a soulmark only seen in the confines and the privacy of their family's quarter, and only her siblings and her knew of it. It was like a dirty secret, that her mother held the Strong House family sigil on her body. It was the dead tree found in the courtyard of Harrenhall, where Sir Harwin Strong had been raised. They never talked about it, but she didn't need any explanation. She herself had also loved Sir Harwin, strongly so. He used to spar with her whenever he could and carry her wherever she wanted to go. He brought her chocolate cake from the kitchen each time she cried and he had taught her many stories of Harrenhall, his family's stronghold. He was gone before she could realize who he was to her, a loss as bitter as the one of the father whose name she took after.
Her mother had Caraxes spread all over her left collarbone, and no mark could ever rival with that one. No mark could be as telling as this one, no mark could ever scream Daemon as much as this one. He himself, had Syrax engraved from his shoulder to his elbow. So even if she was quite reluctant with a wedding so soon after losing both her father figures, she knew it was unnecessary to fight on this one. Daemon still cared for them in his own way. He wasn't the protective nor affectionate type, but his stare only taught them more than they could hope to learn by themselves. He wasn't distant, he just knew when to be present for them. And she rarely needed him, so he never really bothered, except for the swordmanship classes, which he forced everyone, girls and boys, to take.
Her mother's last soulmark was behind her neck near her scalp. She also hid this one often, and she had never known who it was for. But from the look of it, it was her oldest soulmark. It was a green flower, one she had never seen with her own eyes.
Rhaelle knew of her mother's dalliances, and some may say four was quite a number for soulmates, but she wasn't ashamed of that. She thought it so much more respectable, to have known love, and to have been marked for it. She was proud to be a product of a love between soulmates. She couldn't wait to have one herself. So when her soulmark appeared, she couldn't be more confused.
She had been eight. It came a week after the events on Driftmark, after a fever that had left her in a nightmarish daze for days. She had slain her uncle Aemond and caused him irreparable harm. But it was to protect her brothers. She had no regrets. She did the right thing, right ?
The soulmark was a sapphire gem anchored on her chest. She had no idea what that meant, and who it was for. She knew that she had to have had a contact with her soulmate for a mark to appear. It left her all the more troubled.
* * *
In her childhood, she remembered the way Aemond had gazed at Lyrax, her dragon. They had been friends once, playing together in the godswoods and eating cake on each other's laps.They had prayed together for days on end for his egg to finally hatch, to no avail.
"Do you think I'll have a dragon of mine someday ?" He had asked her, out of despair, his hair smelling of soot and dragon breath.
"Do you think I'll have a soulmark someday ?" She had retorted playfully. "You're a Targaryen, Aemond. Of course you'll have a dragon, that is your birthright."
"I don't give a shit about soulmarks", he had said dismissively. "Why are you so obsessed with them ?"
He looked over her head at the notebook she was scribbling on. She was drawing his mother's soulmark. It was an ancient book and he had never known its meaning nor who it was for. In his family, they never talked about soulmarks.
"Because it's magic", she had told him, and her brown eyes had glimmered in the morning sun.
"Dragons are magic", he had replied with a frown, stubbornly.
"Well, they are", she agreed. "But think about it. Don't you find it just so lovely ? The idea that there is someone out there made for you."
"Rhaelle", he started, his violet eyes looking down upon her, his face sullen. "It has never mattered for people like us. We will wed whoever fits best for the realm, with no care whatsoever for soulmarks."
She stopped her scribbling. The old, ancient book she was drawing for his mother had probably never meant anything for Otto Hightower. His parents had no matching soulmarks. It had never appealed to him as it had to her, with her parents' proof of love carved all over their bodies for the whole realm to see.
"I will wed whomever will match my soulmark", she claimed with all confidence. "Or no one at all."
"Don't you know how rare they are ? You could live a lifetime without meeting your one", he said, eyes wide, incredulous.
"You sound just like Jace", she told him, and he grimaced.
She went on with her drawing, focused on her notebook, but he never gazed away from her.
* * *
Jace is seven and ten and his soulmark appears on his shoulder a day after visiting Baela, all the way to Driftmark. It sits there, almost sparkling in the sunray : Baela's brooch, the one she had on ; two dragontails intertwined. They are all sprawled on the beach after a very strict sparring session with the guards, Jace, Luke and her. They are bruised all over, with Rhaena winning over and defeating them all one by one.
Luke is hooting like an owl, while Jace shoves him back a few feet, but smiling all the same. Rhaelle is so very happy for her brother, to know that from the very beginning, Jace was meant to marry and rule alongside his very own soulmate. It makes her own soulmark sting even more.
"Are you going to wed ?" Luke had asked, curious and excited for his brother.
"We aren't even betrothed, Jacaerys said with worry. Mother and Daemon were discussing it."
"You're so grown I might cry", she teased, feigning faint, and Jace rolled his eyes at her.
He splashed her. She pushed him into the ocean, both of them wrestling hard until Luke joined them and they all tumbled, chilled to the bone but celebrating.
"Sister, Jace had called once they had changed and bathed. This will change nothing, will it not ?" He queried, his eyes filled with concern.
"What do you mean, brother ?"
"I'm still the Jace that will always protect you, as you have done for me", he assured her.
She knew he was talking about Aemond's eye. The very proof that she would have done anything for him, sitting on a Prince of the realm's now uneven face.
He was the heir the Iron Throne could ever have needed. She was sure of it.
"Have you given up on searching for that sapphire soulmate ?" Jace questioned, his arm on hers, comforting.
"I will never."
She was determined to find them, whoever they may be. She knew that they had met for only a person you meet could imprint upon your skin. She had been so excited to come back to Driftmark, but it had been for naught. Whoever they were, she was sure they were not there anymore.
"Mother is delaying all betrothal request for you", Jacaerys informed her, caressing her cheek with affection.
"I know."
* * *
The question of Jace and Baela's betrothal was again put to the question when Luke's claim on the Driftwood throne was challenged. For the first time ever since that night, she was to meet again with him.
For years, she had wondered about Aemond, but never wording her thoughts out loud. She never wanted to confront herself and her actions on that night. She had maimed him forever, and she had not regretted it, for it was for Jace. Aemond was about to crack his skull open before she stopped him. She was certain she could do it again, and that she would if given the choice once more. She lulled herself with these thoughts for days to keep her remorse from gnawing at her.
She had worn a purple gown, for her dragon. She knew she was plain-featured, as so many had whispered at court, but she had never thought herself ugly nor ordinary. She was a princess, and the only daughter of the heir, this alone put her out of the ordinary category.
They were bantering together around the yard, feigning a sparring match when she saw him. The years had done well on him. He was tall and lanky, all grace and agility as he moved about the courtyard in a fighting match with Sir Criston Cole. He had a strong jaw and well-defined cheekbones, and his eye immediately caught her attention. She felt herself forget to breathe.
He easily gained dominance on his opponent, winning the match over Cole, and everyone applauded. His posture had been perfect, his stance and footwork controlled. He caught her eyes, and smiled.
"Nephews, niece. Come to train ?" He asked playfully, but the challenge in his voice was clear.
"Uncle", she greeted him, parting with the crowd of onlookers and meeting him in the middle of the training yard. "That was a good demonstration. I look forward to your next performances."
"Performance ? Demonstration ? I'm no court jester", he said with contempt.
His sole eye was taking her in. He settled at last on her face, but said nothing. Aegon was the one who interrupted them.
"My word, is that you, Rhaelle ?" He exclaimed, eyes looking on her figure. "You have much changed, dear niece."
"Aegon. I'm glad to see you again, she said, greeting him lightly. What's with all these new icons ?"
He was covered from head to toes with icons. The smallfolk called this practice tattooing. It was often meant to cover up and lose someone's soulmark in the middle of all these self-inflicted drawings. In the end, no one would come to know which ones were real soulmarks. She could recognize some dice on his hand, a woman's fan, jewels, ships, all sorts of drawings on his skin.
He shrugged, but smiled all the same.
"You know me. Always a lady on my mind", he jested, his head leaning to face her, too close for her comfort.
"Don't tell me these are all soulmark"s, she queried with scepticism and disbelief at the same time.
"I remember your small little book of soulmarks. I should model for you", he offered, giving her his open arm full of icons, offering a hug of all gestures.
She laughed, but still went on and embraced him, looking upon Aemond over Aegon's shoulder, whose face was a scowl. She was enjoying it, his annoyance. Soon, Jace and Luke came to greet their uncles as well, though this time the greetings were much shorter and colder. As Vaemond Velaryon's delegation arrived, they separated and went back to their quarters.
* * *
She was late to the audience. Her gown had ripped near the hip when she grazed the corner of a marble table, and she was sure to add another bruise to her long series of wounds from the training. Remembering her mother's stern look telling her to make haste on such an important day, she was running down the stairs when she fell off a step. She was sure she had sprained her ankle and was cursing the Seven for such a series of unfortunate events.
"What a sorry sight, niece."
He looked so much taller than her that she started to blush furiously out of embarrassment. He had a satisfied smirk on his face, enjoying her misfortune.
"Don't say a word. I'm embarrassed enough already", she said, hiding her face in her hands.
To his credit, he did not, instead, he held his arm out so she could reach to help herself up. She gladly took it, using it to test herself on one foot and on the other once she stood. She winced, her pain evident.
"Why are you here ?" She asked, confused. "Aren't the petitions about to start ?"
"I was sent to fetch you."
She frowned, releasing his arm. He did not elaborate, but simply continued looking at her. One unique eye seemed intense enough to make her burn.
"You were sent ? To fetch me ?"
"Well, I am a prince of the realm, and you are a princess", he said matter-of-factly.
"I took out your eye, and you hate me", she answered, and the air seemed to thin out of the hallway, hurrying to find some other room to fill.
He looked at her, scanning every inch of her face before smirking.
"Have you found yourself a lovely little soulmate on Dragonstone, Rhaelle ?" He enquired as he took a step forward, closing in on her.
"What are you on about, uncle ? Have you come to talk about soulmarks, of all subjects ?"
"Well, Rhaelle", he repeated, insisting on her name. "I remember your little obsession with those, and I was asking if you had found what you were looking for."
His hand slowly stroked a strand of her hair, and she shivered. She took a small step away from him, towards the hallway, far from the stairs she had fallen upon. He followed her mindlessly.
"I have not", she lied, and his smirk grew wider, he seemed almost satisfied with himself.
"Well, do tell me when that day comes, for I will gladly put out your little soulmate's life. As payment for my eye."
She felt her heart sink to the bottom of her stomach. He had said that as though he had told her about the weather. Furthermore, he had reached out his arm again so she could rest upon it and walk with her sprained ankle.
"I thought it had been a fair exchange, you losing that eye", she answered with defiance, choosing to lean on him, reaching her hand out to touch his eye patch.
He caught her hand forcefully before she ever could reach it, his eye mad with fury in an instant.
"I thought you had found what you were looking for, in Vhagar", she continued, never taking her eyes off his. "For years, I wished you had found peace in your dragon."
"I will when I see your debt getting paid", he seethed, holding her tightly.
"What makes you think I'll tell you if a soulmark ever appears on me ?"
She was smiling now. He would never know of her sapphire, for he never was to gaze upon her chest.
"I'll have my ways", he answered, suddenly reaching for the fabric of her dress, to which she slapped his hand.
In the corridor leading to the Throne Room, the King himself stood, interrupting them. Viserys was but a decaying body, she realized, finding herself leaning upon Aemond once more to get to her grandsire quickly enough.
"Grandsire", she greeted him, a small smile on her face, as his sole eye found hers.
Viserys was a shadow of a king. His skin was pale and deteriorating, he had a golden mask on to hide his lack of left eye. Though his eye was warm and loving, she felt the need to contain her disgust and repulsion at his stale breath and his chapped lips.
"Princess Rhaelle", he said, stroking her hair and her face with nothing but love. "And my son, Aemond", he uttered while observing their hands on each other. "Have you two reacquainted ?"
"We have, father, Aemond answered casually."
"Where are you off to, grandsire ?"
"My dear, will you escort your king to the throne room ? I have a matter to attend", he told them as he took her hands gently.
She agreed, but her ankle did not, stumbling from the moment Viserys leaned on her. Instead, it was Aemond who caught her, holding her firmly under the watchful eye of the king.
"I'm sorry, my king", she apologized profusely. "I sprained my ankle while descending the stairs. Prince Aemond was assisting me before you came upon us", she explained.
"Aemond, do help the princess", Viserys ordered thoughtfully. "Carry her to a maester after the petitions, but for now, I want Rhaelle to be present. She is a Velaryon, after all."
If he was annoyed by the request, his face never showed any trace of it. They walked awfully slow, with Viserys looking like he would crumble every step he took and Rhaelle, dependent on Aemond's arm, which she loathed. Finally, they reached the doors to the Throne Room, where their names were announced.
"Viserys of House Targaryen, the First of His Name, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm" the guard shouted as everyone halted and bowed. "Prince Aemond of House Targaryen, and Princesse Rhaelle of House Velaryon"
Upon seeing them, their arms linked in a display of friendship and propriety, everyone seemed confused, but it was nothing next to the sight of the King returning to his duties for the first time in months.
Aegon was smirking. Her aunt Helaena was smiling at her, oblivious to the discomfort of everyone else. Queen Alicent was frowning slightly, biting her lips while exchanging a look with her father Otto Hightower. On her family, the faces were nothing but bewilderment and concern except for Daemon who seemed amused by the whole situation.
Aemond carefully directed her to Rhaenyra, whom he greeted with a court "Sister", before joining his side of the family. She placed herself between the twins ; Baela linking arms with her.
"It's been so long, sister", Baela said, squeezing her arm tightly. "I fear you'll have some explaining to do", she added, raising her eyebrows twice, making Rhaena laugh.
The petitions were resuming. She watched as Viserys affirmed Luke once more to the Driftwood Throne, approved of the betrothals of Jace and Baela and Luke and Rhaena, and witnessed Vaemond's beheading. All three girls took a few steps backwards at the sight of blood. Rhaena was shaking. Baela, ever her father's daughter, barely flinched. Her heart was pounding in her chest so hard she didn't even realize that Luke had reached for her and was hugging her protectively.
"Luke, Rhaena is your betrothed. Take care of her", she whisper-shouted in his ear, thankful but annoyed by the attention.
"You're my twin sister", he affirmed with confidence. "I safeguard you before anyone else. Rhaena of all people, can understand why I am with you right now."
He had never looked so grown. She was the eldest of the two, and she had always felt the need to care for him and shield him from any harm. But he was the future Lord of the Tides, the heir to the Seasnake, and about to marry Rhaena. He held her upright again, her ankle starting to ache again from standing for this long. Over Luke's shoulder, her gaze fell upon Aemond, who was already watching her. His eyes were gleaming at the sight of blood.
* * *
"How did you get your ankle twisted ?" Luke asked as he escorted her for dinner, holding her and assisting her on the stairs.
She was wearing a purple gown meant to match her dragon's scale. The color suited her, and Rhaena had helped with braiding her hair. She felt pretty and cursed herself for how silly she looked limping about the Red Keep.
Aemond, ever the dutiful son, had actually carried her after the whole Vaemond ordeal, right in front of his mother's who couldn't even hide her distaste, and his father, who had seemed satisfied. He had brought her to the maester's quarter, where Maester Orwyle had put a cast on her ankle. He hadn't said a word to her, and she had been glad for the respite.
"Nothing crazy. I just missed a step and Aemond found me. It was embarrassing."
"Be careful with him, sister", Luke warned, his face filled with dread.
"I know, Luke. I took out his eye. He'll never rest until he gets his revenge."
"I think he's playing the long game", he guessed. "He cannot do a thing under Grandsire's surveillance. But Grandsire's time isn't infinite. So watch it."
She pinched his cheek and he scowled, disgruntled. Although he was now taller than her, she couldn't help it.
"Hey ! What was that for ?!"
"Since when have you been so protective, dear brother ? May I remind you I'm the eldest ?" She teased, and he rolled his eyes at her.
At dinner, once again their grandsire expressed his congratulations to Jace, Luke, Baela and Rhaena. All toasted to the future newlyweds, even the reluctant Hand of the King. As the King continued his speech, commanding them to seal the rift between the family, he turned towards Rhaelle, who suddenly felt self-conscious under his attentive eye.
"We are one house. Let us no longer hold ill-feelings towards each other. The crown cannot stand strong if the House of the Dragon remains divided. I hereby declare the betrothal of my son, Aemond, to Rhaenyra's only daughter Princess Rhaelle. This marriage will both strengthen our house and unite us once more."