athassprkr
patreon
(EM Vol. 2: A Wandering Melody) Chapter 59: Sun and Moon
🕑 Added 2025-08-26 14:02:51 +0000 UTCChapter 59: Sun and Moon
123 AC, Dragonstone
Baela Targaryen pondered on the events of the last few weeks and couldn’t help but think that they were some of the worst ones in some time. The day after she had attempted to burn the sorcerer’s manse, her grandparents had summoned her and confronted her completely about her actions.
Lord Harry had told her that he would speak with her grandparents, but a part of her doubted that he’d do so. She was wrong, and her grandparents already knew most of what happened. It was why she had told her grandparents everything about what had happened that night. Looking back, she couldn’t help but regret her actions. She was just so angry, so betrayed by Rhaena’s word that she wanted everyone to feel like this as well.
It took a few hours after getting back to the castle that fateful night to fully grasp what she had tried to do, what she could have done, had the sorcerer somehow created a manse that could withstand the power of a dragon, even one as young as hers.
And while Baela’s punishment was harsh, her grandmother had been oddly sympathetic. They met occasionally, when her schedule allowed it, and Rhaenys taught her ways to control the ‘dragon’s rage’ as she called it. She hadn’t known that this was a real event, but she thought that it oddly fit what happened that night, the irrational anger that consumed her.
She supposed that her grandmother, as the most experienced member of House Targaryen and a Dragonrider, knew of it. But it was odd that her father never mentioned it in any way. They worked on exercises, on ways that would recognise the rage and reign it in. It was just some dumb exercises like taking deep breaths. Baela didn’t know if it worked. She didn’t feel any different, but she was terrified that she’d do something like this again, enough to make the effort.
She often imagined Rhaena, Jace, or Luke who burned because of her rage, and she woke up every morning, sweating from the nightmares of seeing them burn and finally realising it later, like she had that night.
Baela was desperate enough to make the dreams stop, to avoid getting enraged like this ever again. Her grandmother’s eyes became much softer when Baela begged for ways to stop what she felt during one of their lessons, where she broke down and confessed just how afraid she felt.
It also didn’t help that she wasn’t even allowed to see Moondancer anymore. Her darling dragon was quite small, but she was still larger than a horse and couldn’t take it into the fortress. And given that her grandparents’ punishment included staying in the castle at all times. She wasn’t allowed to do anything but go to her lessons, eat her meals, and go to sleep. She hadn’t even played with Jace or Luke. She wasn’t even forbidden from doing so, but she kept imagining them in the fire, the one that she had caused, and just did her best to walk away.
Baela didn’t have it in her to argue about her punishment, not after what she did to deserve it. Her grandparents had been surprised by her acceptance at first, especially when she agreed to have Velaryon guards following her every move, who were instructed not to let her out of their sights.
Despite it all, Baela was miserable. Every day was boring, but boring was safe. She’d very much rather have dull days than succumb to the rage once more and burn her sister like she tried to do the Potters.
Speaking of Rhaena, she also looked miserable. She was being punished too. She did remember the sorcerer saying something about already going to speak with her grandparents about Rhaena, and her sister did say that she broke one of their rules or something during their fight. At least Rhaena still had Solarys with her; the hatchling was small enough that letting it roam in the fortress wasn’t really troublesome.
They hadn’t spoken since their fight, and a part of Baela regretted it immensely. They were always inseparable, especially since their mother died and they moved to Dragonstone, and now they had barely spoken to one another, no matter how much Baela’s heart ached for it. Baela wanted to apologise, to say that she shouldn’t have pushed about the Potters, that she wanted everything to return to the way it used to be.
However, she remembered the flames and tried to murder the Potters just because Rhaena spent time with them. She remembered the pleasure she felt as she let all of that anger rage, and she imagined that they’d burn and scream. She also remembered how powerless she felt when Moondancer fell asleep, and the sorcerer patiently spoke to her. She remembered how kind he was and how she was prepared to kill him. She imagined Rhaena being in that manse that she tried to burn, and thought that perhaps it was better that they wouldn’t speak to one another. And so, she made sure to avoid her as much as possible.
Which was hard to do now, as she sat at the dining table, breaking her fast, she did her best to ignore her sister’s gaze, instead focusing on her grandparents. Ever since they arrived on Dragonstone, her grandparents had joined them to eat whenever they could. The King, thankfully, rarely came. According to Father, he liked to wake up late and eat in his chambers alongside the Queen in the morning, which meant that everything wouldn’t be as tense early in the morning.
That wasn’t to say that things were good. Her grandmother obviously disliked Princess Rhaenyra and her father, but had kept these feelings somewhat contained. However, now, the princess now glared at the older woman with disdain, thinking that she stole the position of Hand from her, something that her father echoed in private sometimes.
Still, the Queen and the King’s presence certainly wouldn’t have helped in any way, and Aegon obviously hated Jace and Luke, given what happened after her mother’s funeral, and she thought that each meal was awkward enough to add this into the mix.
Her train of thought was interrupted by her father’s voice, cutting the tense silence, “Baela, it has been a while since we practised with that dagger of yours. Have you given up on learning already, daughter?”
There was a challenging tilt in his voice, one that would have angered Baela normally. For a few moments, she could feel the familiar fire in her veins and the delight at learning alongside her father. She loved these lessons with a passion, but she couldn’t help but grimace as she thought about whether it was a better idea to learn other ways to kill someone or what she would do with it.
Baela did her best to suppress a wince at that thought and turned towards her grandmother, who had a supportive look on her face. Her hands trembled slightly, and she looked down and answered calmly, “Maybe another time, father.”
She didn’t see her father’s expression, but she knew that he wasn’t pleased. Daemon Targaryen, despite his reputation, was quite intelligent. She was the one who often pestered him for her lessons, and he always relented after some pleading. Thinking about it, this was likely the first time he had approached her since their first lesson, a sign that he knew that something was wrong, and Baela’s refusal didn’t help matters at all.
As she expected, her father practically growled at the Velaryons, “I have waited for days for someone to explain what happened, and I am done waiting. What is happening to my daughters?”
Baela’s punishment did not forbid her from attending her dagger lessons, but her grandmother must have understood Baela’s feelings on the matter, given that she turned towards her father with a blank look, “They are grounded.”
“And why do you presume that you could punish my children?” her father replied, emphasising the fact that they were his.
However, the older woman didn’t seem impressed, “Perhaps, but they have been grounded for over a week now. If it took you so long to ask, I can’t help but wonder what else you missed.”
Baela gave the woman a thankful look as she directed his attention towards the Velaryons instead of Rhaena and her and returned to her meal, doing her best not to ignore her father’s rant.
It was true, in a way. Ever since the King had come, Father spent most of his time with the man, probably trying to convince him to grant him and Princess Rhaenyra a seat in the Small Council, doubly so when her grandmother was named as Hand. He had barely spent time with her and her sister, and he obviously regretted it, given the way he winced at how the Velaryons put it in his face.
He wasn’t always like this. When Mother was still alive, when they were in Pentos, he hadn’t cared about crowns or his brother, not really. He spent most of the time teaching her High Valyrian, teaching her about how to teach Moondancer a few moves, and dancing with his wife.
Now, there was sadness to him that hadn’t been there before. Most people wouldn’t see it or recognise it, but Mother’s death had hurt him a lot. Her father liked to pretend that nothing affected him, but they didn’t know him like she did.
In the end, everything became so complicated. The world was darker with Laena Velaryon in it, and he instead distracted himself with his hatred of Otto Hightower. He even wanted to make Baela queen by having her marry Jace. Even if he never said it explicitly, his motives had slipped up a few times.
Baela wished that her mother had never gotten pregnant, that she still lived, that they’d still be happy flying together, each one on their dragon, dancing in the sky.
It wasn’t until a few minutes later that she realised that she had been daydreaming for a while and missed most of the conversation, which had obviously escalated given her father’s tone, “They are my daughters, and their discipline falls to me, and I say that the matter is closed. Now, enough of this shit. Baela, get your dagger ready. We will begin our lessons in an hour.”
“But Father…” she protested.
“Now, Baela!” he shouted, making her stiffen.
The young girl looked at her father and her grandparents. She looked at Jace and Luke’s concerned faces before settling on her sister. She pictured a bloody dagger in her hand, and the room started to spin.
She wanted it to stop. She needed it to stop.
She closed her eyes and did her grandmother’s exercises, of taking deep breaths, but it wasn’t helping. Suddenly, she stood up from her chair and ran out of her room, ignoring her father yelling behind her.
She didn’t even know where she was going. She simply needed to get away.
It wasn’t until she found herself in Moondancer’s small cavern that she realised where her feet had taken her. She had never spent so much time away from her dragon, and given the enthusiastic reaction that greeted her, she had been missed just as much.
Moondancer nuzzled against her chest, warm and restless, and Baela held her tightly, burying her face in the pale scales. For the first time in days, she felt her breathing steady, though the ache in her chest refused to fade. She sat there for a long while, running her fingers over the smooth ridges of Moondancer’s neck, trying to quiet the storm inside her head.
“I’m so sorry, Moondancer. I’m sorry.”
Tears came seeping down her face, and she kept babbling everything at her dragon. She had missed her precious girl, despite how she was terrified of repeating her actions.
Moondancer let out a low, rumbling sound, pressing her snout harder against Baela’s chest as if trying to soothe her, and it only made the tears fall faster. Baela tightened her grip, whispering apologies over and over, words tumbling from her lips without thought.
She hated herself for what she’d done, for what she almost did. That craving, that loss of control, terrified her more than anything else.
A voice broke the calmness of her reunion with Moondancer, “Baela? Are you here?”
A familiar figure entered the cavern, and Rhaena entered. For the first time since that fateful night, both sisters met each other’s eyes, and to her surprise, Rhaena ran forward and hugged her tightly, “I’m so sorry, Baela. I shouldn’t have said these things.”
Baela froze, realising where she stood. She was alone, with Moondancer at her back and Rhaena right in front of her. Her dreams bled into waking thought, flashes of fire and screams, Rhaena’s face lost in the smoke. One word, one slip, and the nightmare could become real.
She stood there, unmoving, as Moondancer gave her concerned chirps, trying to comfort her through their bond, while her sister continued babbling, which became more frantic over time, “I had a bad day and screwed everything up. I didn’t want anyone to know about my time with the Potters. You know that Father doesn’t like them, and I was afraid that you’d tell him or that you’d come with me and that they’d prefer you, like Father already does.”
“Father doesn’t love me more,” she protested, even if she knew that it was a very weak argument, but jumped at it to distract herself from the situation.
“He always did, Baela. You were the one with the dragon, who liked playing with blades like him. He spent time teaching High Valyrian back in Pentos, and Mother did the same with me, but it’s not the same, you know. He focuses on you, and that’s fine. I was just afraid that the Potters would do the same to me now. But now, I see that I was being selfish and petty, and I’m sorry.”
Baela took a few deep breaths, calming herself down, and she spoke up once more, “How did you find me?”
“You always came here when you’re upset. I’m your sister. I’d know it anyway. Still, I didn’t know that you were punished. I thought it was just our fight. What happened?”
“I was mad after our argument and did something stupid,” Baela replied, not wanting to tell her sister that she tried to kill people that Rhaena obviously treasured, “Grandfather and Grandmother found out and... you know the rest.”
Rhaena hesitated for a moment before asking softly, “Baela… what did you do?”
Baela’s grip on Moondancer tightened, but she kept her gaze fixed on the floor. “I don’t want to talk about it,” she said quietly.
Rhaena frowned but didn’t push, instead shifting the topic. “Father asked about the dagger lessons. You used to love them. It’s… strange, seeing you refuse.”
Baela forced herself to shrug, though her chest felt tight. “I’m not sure I like it anymore,” she admitted, voice low. After a pause, she added, “I’m also sorry, Rhaena. I shouldn’t have forced you to speak before about the Potters. I shouldn’t have confronted you like that.”
Rhaena’s face softened, and a small smile broke through. “And as I said, I shouldn’t have reacted the way I did. Besides, I think it’s time to tell you the truth about the Potters, what we’ve been doing all this time.”
Baela blinked, surprised. She had suspected her sister was hiding something, but hearing Rhaena finally offer the truth made her chest tighten, despite the fact that her tone was very hesitant near the end. She was obviously still very hesitant about it, but was willing to share it with her, “You will?”
A part of her wished that Rhaena keep it to herself, to have a secret. This sudden willingness to share her secret made Baela feel even more guilty about hiding her own actions. She wondered how Rhaena would react if she knew, or worse, if they told her.
By the gods, Rhaena was forbidden to see them, wasn’t she? Which meant that when the punishment inevitably ended, she would know what she did, that she would truly lose her sister. It had been this feeling of loss that made her succumb to her rage in the first place. What was she going to do?
Her panic was interrupted by Rhaena, “I will. Actually… It’s better if I show you. We’ll sneak out together to the Potters’ manse. You’ll meet them, and you’ll understand everything.”
No! No! No! Anything but this, “Rhaena, we’re grounded. If Grandmother or the guards catch us…”
“I need you to come,” Rhaena interrupted firmly, meeting her eyes. “I need to show you that I trust you. Please.”
Baela’s throat felt tight, and she shook her head quickly, clutching Moondancer’s neck as though the dragon could shield her from this. “Rhaena, I… I can’t. I can’t go there,” she whispered, her voice barely holding together.
Rhaena’s expression softened, but her tone stayed firm. “You can. I need you to see them, Baela. I need you to meet them and see that they’re wonderful people. They’re going to love you.”
The words stung. She had almost tried to kill them. Her chest clenched, guilt twisting like a blade.
Rhaena obviously noticed her reluctance and took Baela’s hand gently, “Please. I’m trusting you with this. I want to share this with you.”
For a moment, she almost said no. She almost pulled away and told Rhaena to go without her. But the desperate look in her sister’s eyes stopped her cold.
She gave her a very small nod, which made Rhaena hug her, “Oh, you’re going to love it tonight. Their manse is wonderful and Lady Daphne makes this delicious drink…”
Baela ignored her sister’s exclamations, focusing on that first sentence. She interrupted her, “Tonight?”
“Yes, tonight. We’ll sneak out together. I’ll come to your room and take you there. I’ll leave you and Moondancer alone for now, but don’t forget to be ready.”
That was the last thing Rhaena said before turning around and leaving the cavern quietly. Baela stayed behind, burying her face in Moondancer’s warm scales, her breath shaky and uneven. The dragon rumbled softly beneath her, as though sensing her turmoil.
Despite her hesitation, she was happy that Rhaena was speaking to her again, happy to feel her sister’s warmth and see her smile. For a fleeting moment, it almost felt like before, before the shouting, before the silence, before everything had splintered between them. She hadn’t realised how desperate she’d been for this; how much she had missed Rhaena.
But the feeling was fragile, and deep down, Baela knew it. Things weren’t the same. They couldn’t be. No matter how much she wanted to pretend otherwise, there was no going back from what she had done. The truth would come out eventually, likely even tonight.
If she went with Rhaena, the Potters could tell her what she did, and she’d lose her sister. If she refused, she could lose her sister’s trust, show her that she didn’t care about the fact that she obviously pushed herself to share with Baela. There was no path where she didn’t feel trapped, no choice that didn’t terrify her.
Tonight would decide more than her sister knew.
Baela closed her eyes, burying her face against Moondancer’s scales, her whisper barely a breath:
‘What am I going to do?’
AN: I’m really not sure about this chapter. I thought about not uploading it at all since it's definitely not my best work and I wrote it while exhausted and on very little sleep, but I decided against it in the end. I also know that it’s a pretty slow chapter post-Valyria, but I do have something interesting planned, so bear with me. It was a bit of a coin toss whether to do it from Baela or Rhaena’s perspective, and I settled on this one. I wanted to pick up from where I left off before Valyria, especially both sisters screwing up and ending up fighting.
I settled on Baela since I thought that writing the realisation that she almost murdered someone would slowly change her and make her terrified that it would happen again, while Rhaena would feel pretty guilty about her fight and think that the changes in Baela are because of what she said, not knowing about Baela attacking the Potters and failing miserably. I don’t know if I pulled it off, but I don’t mind rewriting this chapter depending on your feedback. As usual, please let me know what you think and if you have any suggestions.
Comments
Marius Petrauskas
nice
Joshua
Personally I like that you did this from her point of view. Especially since we already had her sisters in a previous chapter.
