athassprkr
patreon
(EM Vol. 2: A Wandering Melody) Chapter 24: Kind Eyes
🕑 Added 2025-06-26 14:02:20 +0000 UTCChapter 24: Kind Eyes
123 AC, Dragonstone
Rhaena’s return to her room had been spent mostly contemplating what she had just experienced. Lord Harry didn’t explain much of what happened in that cavern, and she had a feeling that he regretted bringing her with them. She had seen something that she wasn’t meant to. If she had to guess, she was welcome to see the dragon egg, and even the Child of the Forest, but not the one-eyed ghost, or the entity that spoke through him.
Lord Harry hadn’t explained everything in detail, something that was odd, given his proclivity to teach, much like a Maester, but with magic and adventures. Both Lady Daphne and he had remained quiet during their trip back to the manse and hadn’t truly spoken to her. They had given her more of that heavenly brown drink, and Rhaena felt like they were waiting for her to leave to have a proper conversation.
She could understand why. Rhaena wasn’t the most knowledgeable when it came to magics and Theology, but what she had seen, what she had experienced, was godly. She had seen something beyond man, beyond sorcery, speak through the ghost-man, and the words felt like power. And yet, Lord Harry stood there, staring down at the power of a god, and made it flee.
Rhaena had seen much during the last adventure. She had seen proof that the Long Night existed, was attacked by one of the legendary Ice Spiders, seen the frozen forms of the White Walkers, and spoke to one of the Children of the Forest.
And yet, it all paled before this moment, where a sorcerer confronted a god and won.
It was then that she clearly realised one simple fact. She had no idea who the Potters were, really. They were travellers, yes. They were powerful. They had magic. They had strange manners, owned strange objects, and walked with such confidence, an assuredness that nothing could threaten them, and given what she had seen, they were right to. Lady Daphne was barely phased by the presence of a god, let alone her husband’s power.
She snuck back to the castle, with many thoughts swirling in her mind, Solarys giving her comfort with just her presence. She neared her chambers when she heard a familiar voice speak up sharply, “Rhaena Targaryen!”
Rhaena stiffened, heart thudding, and turned around slowly, dreading the look on her grandmother’s face, which made her feel very intimidated for some reason.
Her grandfather stepped forward with a similar severe look on his face, “What in the Seven Hells are you doing out of your chambers?”
The young girl knew that she had to give them a good explanation, one that was intelligent, thoughtful, and plausible. She dreaded her father or sister knowing of her adventures. Her sister would likely wish to have joined her, but she did not know how her father would react. If she were to guess, he would go to the Potters’ manse, with Caraxes behind him, and wielding Dark Sister, for endangering her.
Looking back, the Potters hadn’t said anything about keeping their adventures to themselves. She wasn’t forbidden from telling anyone of what they had discovered. Of course, the spirits of fire, wind, and molten stone, deep in the Dragonmont, would likely kill most people who would wish to see the giant Dragon Egg, and no one would believe that she had gone to Skagos of all places for an afternoon.
Oh, her grandparents were still staring at her, expectantly.
Right, she still needed a clever and plausible reason for being out of her room in the middle of the night, without any guards. It had to be something that would fool them. Rhaena knew that she could do this. She was smart, wasn’t she? It should be easy.
Unfortunately for her, she blurted out, “I was walking Solarys.”
Rhaena winced as the words left her mouth, and her grandmother pounced on her explanation, her gaze somehow becoming sharper, “You were walking your dragon…”
“He was feeling cooped up,” the young girl explained while trying not to wince at her statement, “And I couldn’t sleep, so we walked around the castle.”
She looked up and saw her grandmother’s eyes soften, “You know, Rhaena. Your mother had the exact same look on her face when she lied.”
Rhaena went still at the mention of her mother. Her father tried to avoid the topic as much as possible, and her stepmother rarely spoke of her. Her grandfather’s eyes seemed to smile often. “Do you remember the time she tried to sneak onto one of my ships?”
His wife snorted in amusement, “I believe she blamed it on a swarm of butterflies that accidentally guided her to the ship. Truly, her claiming Vhagar was for the best. I shudder to think what kind of mischief she would have caused, had she not been too preoccupied with flying the beast.”
Rhaena smiled at the story, feeling warm at a tale of her mother that she hadn’t heard before. Sadly, she had just realised that she did not know much of her mother as a person, not as her mother. Before her death, she was always ‘mother’, the woman who told her stories of Driftmark and comforted her when her father did not spend time with her.
She gave her grandparents a teary smile, “Can you tell me more about her? My mother, I mean.”
Lady Rhaenys knelt down and enveloped her in a hug. Rhaena could hear Solarys’ hiss of discomfort, and yet she returned the hug immediately. Of course that was when her grandmother let go of her and gave her a small smile, “I’ll be glad to tell you more stories, sweetling, the Gods know that your mother caused enough trouble to fill an entire book, but why don’t you start by telling me what you have hidden in your sleeves?”
Rhaena’s entire body stilled. Did her grandmother only hug her to see if she had anything else on her person? Or perhaps, she had just noticed that there was something in her sleeves? She did hug her quite tightly, and the sewn-in pockets in her sleeves could be pressed against her.
That didn’t matter. Fear spiked up in Rhaena. She had no choice now, did she? Slowly and hesitatingly, she took out the black dagger, made of Dragonglass, and presented it to them, looking down, trying to avoid their gaze.
It had been a gift from Lord Harry, a way to remember Root by keeping one of her daggers. She noticed that it was something that he did frequently, kept small things to remember their adventures, and he urged her to do the same. First, there was a Valyrian Steel ring and dagger from their adventure in the Dragonmont, as well as a small blade of Dragonsteel, the odd black metal that was created by the egg, and now, one of Root’s Dragonglass daggers for the Skagos expedition.
“What is this, Rhaena?” Her grandmother asked with obvious concern in her tone.
Her grandfather answered in her stead, “This is Dragonglass. There were stories of daggers made of the material that were used for certain spells or rituals. I’ve seen similar ones being used in Asshai. Seven knows what they did with it. Did the sorcerer give you this, Rhaena?”
The young girl froze completely in her tracks. Her grandfather’s eyes were wild with a mixture of anger and fear. She didn’t know what to say. Never in her wildest dreams did she think that they would guess this, and so quickly, too.
While Lord Harry never said to keep their adventures secret, Rhaena didn’t want other people to know. Her adventures with the Potters were hers, and hers alone, and she did not want to share them or, worse, for the adventures to stop. Sure, it could be terrifying, like what happened in Skagos, but the wonders that she had seen, the history that she witnessed, were worth it.
The sound of her grandfather coughing broke her train of thought, and she realised that she hadn’t said anything for some time since he had asked her the question. Her grandmother glared at him and gave her a kind smile, “How long have you been practising magic, Rhaena?”
Magic? Why would she be practising magic? Sure, she was tempted to ask Lord Harry or Lady Daphne to teach her, but she never had the courage to go through with it.
Realisation dawned in Rhaena’s mind. They thought that she was learning magic or had magic used on her by the Potters, “I never used magic, grandmother.”
“Then why do you have it?” her grandfather asked, doing his best to suppress his discomfort. “Why do you have a knife that is used for magic?”
His tone was severe, commanding. Rhaena had never seen her grandfather like this. He was usually so composed, quick to smile and laugh, but could contain his discomfort and anger easily. This was different.
He was looking at her like… like he didn’t recognise her. Like she’d brought something dangerous into their home. He might not mean it, not truly, but she could see the fear in his eyes and the way he looked at that knife, as if it would come to life and kill them all. She wanted it to go away, that look in his eyes. She wanted him to be her grandfather again.
“It’s not mine. It belonged to one of the children of the forest,” she blurted out, before realising what she had just said.
She hadn’t meant to say it, but she couldn’t lie, not now, not with both of them looking at her like that. Not when her grandfather looked at her like she was a monster in hiding.
There was silence. A long, heavy silence settled over the hallway like snowfall.
Corlys’ expression froze. His eyes darted to Rhaenys, then back to the dagger, then to Rhaena again, as if trying to determine whether this was a jest, a childish mistake, or something far more dangerous.
Her grandmother composed herself faster than he did, and she asked, “Why don’t we continue this conversation in your chambers?”
Rhaena could only nod, limbs stiff as she followed them down the hall, Solarys clutching tighter around her shoulders. The silence between them was not quite accusatory, but it weighed on her all the same. She could feel tears gathering near her eyes, and she did not know why. She wasn’t sad, was she? Or perhaps did her grandfather’s accusations hurt her so much?
When they entered her chambers, her grandmother gave her another hug and wiped her tears. “Sweetling, we are only worried about you. Your grandfather just had bad experiences with magic during his travels, and I understandably worried. Now, why don’t you explain everything about it? We promise not to tell anyone, not even your father, but you should be honest with us.”
Rhaena nodded, feeling slightly better; even her grandfather’s eyes softened when he looked at her, “It started the night Solarys hatched. I snuck out to the Dragonmont. I wanted to claim a dragon, the Grey Ghost. I ended up being chased by the Cannibal. Lord Harry saved me and sent the dragon away. He and Lady Daphne comforted me and promised that I would have a dragon of my own. That night, when I went to sleep holding my egg, it hatched, and I found Solarys in my arms.”
“He hatched your egg, without even being present,” her grandmother commented with surprise in her tone.
“Yes. I think it had something to do with the bracelet he had given me when we broke our fast. It was almost glowing before Solarys hatched. Now, it simply feels empty, and the glow has stopped. I went to visit him, later, to repay him for his kindness.”
“How?” the Sea Snake asked.
“By warning him of the King coming to see him. After all, Princess Rhaenyra flew to King’s Landing, after speaking with him, and Father had just told me of the Court coming to Dragonstone. Now, I know that it was because he gave something to the princess to heal the King, but I did not know then. I went to warn him, and we ended up on a small adventure near the Dragonmont.”
“What sort of adventure?” Her grandmother asked.
“Lord Harry and Lady Daphne are adventurers, travellers who like to explore old tombs, old legends, and histories. They came to Westeros to study it. They found a small cave in the Dragonmont with very old cave paintings, going back to the Age of Heroes. I was invited to come with them. I do not regret it. We found much there.”
She grabbed a small box underneath her bed and opened it, revealing her treasures. Her grandfather looked at its content with fascination, and gave her an awed look, “This is Valyrian Steel. Where did you find it?”
“There were bodies, old Valyrian, who tried to explore the Dragonmont before the Doom. They had sealed a section of it with magic.”
“And what is this? I’ve never seen such a metal,” Rhaenys said.
“It’s called Dragonsteel. Lord Harry believes that it was the metal the First Men used during the Long Night.”
“The Long Night is nothing more than a story to terrify the children of the North,” her grandfather protested.
“No,” Rhaena answered, shivering at the sight of the ice beings in Skagos, “I saw the bodies of some. They looked like they were made of frozen ice, instead of flesh. I have seen Ice Spiders, as large as a horse, and I met one of the last Children of the Forest.”
“Is that where you received the Dragonglass dagger?” the Sea Snake continued, “Were you just on one of your expeditions in the Dragonmont?”
Rhaena almost corrected him, telling him that she was in Skagos, but stopped herself; Telling her grandparents that she'd travelled halfway across the continent in the blink of an eye would likely be too unbelievable for them. “Yes. The Potters have been nothing more than accommodating. They teach me things about the world that I never thought were true, and their magic doesn’t use any blood or sacrifices. Please don’t think they’ve done anything wrong. They’ve always treated me with kindness, like I was someone worth listening to. Someone who mattered.” Her voice faltered slightly at the end, and Rhaenys reached out to place a gentle hand over hers.
“We don’t think you’re lying, Rhaena,” her grandmother said, voice quiet but sure. “But you must understand, this is… a great deal. The Children of the Forest, the Long Night, Dragonglass blades and Dragonsteel, it sounds like tales spun by bards.”
Her grandfather, ever the sailor, was still staring at the Valyrian steel blade in the box, but his voice had lost its earlier heat. “Tales, yes… and yet you carry proof of them.”
Rhaena looked between them, her throat tight. “Please,” she said, voice barely above a whisper. “Please don’t tell anyone. Not Father. Not the Princess. They’ll forbid me from seeing them again, and I…I can’t lose this. Not after everything.”
Her words tumbled out in a rush. “You understand, don’t you, Grandfather? You went on adventures, too. You’ve seen strange lands, met people with magic and wonder. You know what it’s like to chase after something real.”
Corlys blinked and shared a look with his wife for just a fraction of a second. Then, he chuckled and leaned back slightly, a glimmer of pride softening the lines around his mouth. “Seven hells, you’ve got that fire from me, haven’t you? Laena was just like that. Adventurous, headstrong, never content with the walls built around her. She would’ve loved you fiercely.”
That caught something in Rhaena’s chest and held it there, warm and aching.
But her grandmother’s voice cut in, calm and unrelenting. “We’ll need to meet them. Lord Harry and Lady Daphne. Speak with them face to face. If they are to keep taking you on these… excursions, then they must answer to us first. Is that understood?”
Rhaena nodded quickly, eyes still wet but shining. “Yes, Grandmother. I understand.”
She threw her arms around both of them in a fierce hug, burying her face in her grandmother’s shoulder. Neither pulled away. When she finally stepped back, there was still anxiety in her heart, uncertainty and fear of what came next, but it was wrapped in something gentler now. Hope. Relief.
She crawled into bed, Solarys coiling beside her, warmth seeping from his scales. For the first time in what felt like weeks, she didn’t feel like she had to carry it all alone.
AN: Phew, that was harder to write than I expected. I know that some reactions, especially Corlys’, seem out of sorts, but I tried to make it biased from Rhaena’s perspective, who is still just a child, and mentally exaggerated everything. It’s something that I’m trying, and I hope that I pulled it off, but if I didn’t, I don’t mind rewriting this chapter depending on your feedback. Also, this conversation is different from Rhaena and her grandparents' perspective. They know that there's something going on, but don't really trust the story from a kid. It's hard to explain, but you'll see it in more detail in the next chapter. As usual, please let me know what you think and if you have any suggestions.
Comments
athass_prkr
It's a nice idea, but it's sort of a very fine line to tread. Having Harry be involved in the affairs of the Dance would be like an instant win, which is why I didn't go with that route. If Harry were less OP, then I would have had some more options, but it didn't feel right to nerf him just for this story. Instead, I'm making the challenge far more intellectual in nature, a mystery to solve, instead of an enemy to slay, with his seemingly casual actions having a lot of consequences. He's essentially involved without actually being involved. If that will stay the case, I don't know. Maybe I'll come up with a way to make him involved that would fit with what I've been doing so far, maybe not.
Sayantan Roy
I wish you would give the potters some cause to integrate... The way things are, I don't really see why Harry would be willing to do anything or how having him in the story would be any fun if he has no incentive to involve himself...
Marius Petrauskas
nice
Garri Sarkisov
Finally good human reliable relatives
BriskyMortar
I have a complaint. We need at least 2 chapters, no, 3 chapters every day. You can't just keep delivering awesome chapters and expect us to be satisfied with only one at a time. Joking aside, great chapter and the story is flowing pretty nicely. The pacing and changing of POVs are working marvelously. You clearly improved a lot since the fic before EM that I forgot the name (magical marvel I guess?)
TypistTyphon
Great chapter
Sukhraj Singh
Now this is what a healthy relationship with your parents and grandparents should look like. I agree with the Rhaenys actress, Rhaenys and Corlys probably have the healthiest relationship in the entire show, its good that they get to share that with their grandchildren. I don't fell offended that Rhaenys for not being able to love Rhaenyra's Strong children, after all it is a hard thing to ask someone to love someone who is not your blood and your actual grandchild.
Monzter E
Nice... how relatives should be...
