Seeing Helaena's pitiful expression, Rhaegar gently removed a fallen leaf from her hair and whispered, "Do you want to get good at swordplay?"
Helaena gave him a shy look and fidgeted nervously with her fingers. Dreamfyre had given her some courage, but it never felt like enough. Deep down, she hoped that learning swordplay would be a better way to protect herself.
"If you want to practice swordsmanship, I can ask Ser Arryk of the Kingsguard to teach you," Rhaegar continued.
"Really?" Helaena tilted her head, her large eyes gleaming.
"Of course," Rhaegar nodded, smiling. "Provided you work hard and are not afraid of suffering."
He had no preconceived notions that women should only take on traditional female roles. To him, every Targaryen had unlimited potential.
"Yes, I will practice hard and become as powerful as Queen Visenya," Helaena replied eagerly.
Everyone had their idols. Rhaenyra admired Nymeria, the Warrior Queen, for her heroic deeds, while Helaena worshipped Visenya Targaryen. Rhaegar also admired the brave and wise Visenya. He rubbed Helaena's head affectionately and mused, "If you become skilled in swordplay, I will give you a gift."
"What kind of gift?" Helaena asked curiously.
Rhaegar glanced at the wooden sword in his hand and shook his head, "It's a secret, but it will be great."
"Uh-huh," Helaena replied overjoyed and jumped into his arms.
Helaena clung to him tightly, and Rhaegar smiled helplessly, supporting her legs as she wrapped them around his waist. "Thank you, brother," she whispered, nuzzling his neck and pressing her lips to his cheek.
Rhaegar shook his head, smiling as he patted her back and kissed her forehead. Both he and Helaena shared the gift of Dragon Dreams, which bonded them closely since childhood.
Their intimate moment affected those around them. Rhaenyra, standing behind Rhaegar, narrowed her eyes as she watched Helaena cling to him. Sensing her gaze, Helaena looked up and met Rhaenyra's eyes directly. The coldness in Rhaenyra's eyes softened to avoid frightening Helaena.
Helaena smiled, tightening her arms around Rhaegar's neck and nuzzling her head against him, locking eyes with Rhaenyra.
On the other side of the clearing, Aemond watched his sister nestled in their older brother's arms and blinked, silently closing the distance. He didn't have any particular thoughts, just a subtle, inexplicable envy—toward both Rhaegar and Helaena.
Noticing Aemond's approach, Rhaegar extended a hand, resting it on his younger brother's shoulder with a smile. "What is it? Something on your mind?"
Aemond was caught off guard, suddenly finding himself under his brother's affectionate attention. His mind went blank, cheeks flushing as he stammered, "Brother, do you remember your promise before you went to Storm's End..."
"To go to Dragonstone and tame dragons," Rhaegar finished for him, seeing his struggle.
Aemond's face lit up, nodding eagerly. "That's right!"
"Don't worry," Rhaegar reassured him. "There's a Kingswood hunt in a month. After that, I'll persuade Father to visit Dragonstone, and I'll help you tame a dragon."
Rhaegar had been studying ancient texts on dragons and their riders, keen on deepening the bond between Targaryens and their dragons. He wanted his father to reconnect with the dragons, an endeavor that required a trip to Dragonstone. Moreover, he aimed to share forbidden magical knowledge with his father, hoping to unite their family through this shared power.
Aemond's eyes sparkled with excitement. "Really?"
Splat! Rhaegar playfully smacked his head. "Man up. Don't act like Helaena."
Aemond pouted, rubbing his head.
"Rhaegar, put Helaena down. We need to go back," came Rhaenyra's voice, cold and firm.
Rhaegar turned to see his sister's calm, yet stern expression. He knew her well enough to sense something was off.
He gently set Helaena down, ruffling both her and Aemond's hair. "Go play."
"Uh-huh," Helaena replied, pulling Aemond along as they bounced away.
Rhaenyra had already turned and was walking away briskly, her red skirt swaying with her steps. Rhaegar's eyes followed her, trying to recall what might have displeased her.
It was nighttime, and the moon was a thin crescent in the sky.
Inside the king's chambers, a few lit tallow candles hung on the walls, casting a hazy glow. The deep corridor echoed with a knock on the door.
"Ahem..." Viserys's coughing filled the room, his voice a raspy wheeze. "Come in."
The harshness of his cough made his breathing sound labored and his throat raw.
Creak—
The door opened, and Rhaegar was the first to enter, his eyes scanning the dimly lit room. Rhaenyra followed, her long silver hair cascading over her shoulder as she peeked in.
Rhaegar glanced at her with amusement. "Come on in, we're not thieves."
"It's just my first night here," Rhaenyra muttered, lifting the hem of her black skirt and walking in lightly.
After leaving the Godswood Forest, Rhaenyra had been uncharacteristically silent, not wanting to witness her father receiving treatment. The siblings had not exchanged a word before entering the chamber.
Carrying a tray with a butter candle, Rhaegar took Rhaenyra's hand, and they walked into the bedroom together.
"You're all here?" Viserys leaned listlessly against the headboard, his loose robe barely covering his frail frame. He hadn't expected his daughter to join them.
"She insisted on tagging along," Rhaegar said, resigned.
The first night he returned, he had spoken to his father about treating his wounds. The gathering had been postponed until tonight.
Viserys smiled weakly. "Just come, be generous."
Rhaenyra shot Rhaegar a look before quickly approaching the bed. "I wanted to see you," she said softly, adjusting a goose feather pillow behind her father's back.
She knew her father's wounds were severe, though he had never let her see them. She wanted to understand the pain and stress he endured.
"Oh, a body covered in cuts is nothing to see," Viserys joked weakly. "You should see me during the day; I still have a bit of gallantry left."
Rhaenyra held her father's hand, feeling the weight of his suffering. His hand was missing two fingers, and the other was wrapped in gauze, with a hint of blood seeping through.
She looked down, biting her lower lip. During the day, her father was the king, strong and imposing. But at night, he shed his tough facade, revealing his vulnerability.
Rhaenyra's eyes welled up with tears, and she glanced helplessly at Rhaegar.
"Ugh, really can't do anything about you," Rhaegar sighed, walking to her side and whispering, "Remember? Father isn't as fragile as he seems."
These were the same words Rhaenyra had used to reassure him earlier in the day.
Her tears fell freely now. "Rhaegar..."
Seeing her father like this, and hearing Rhaegar repeat her own words, filled Rhaenyra with a deep guilt and an inexplicable embarrassment.
"What are you crying for? It doesn't affect my enjoyment," Viserys said gently, wrapping his arms around his daughter and kissing her head. "You're right, resilience is one of the few things I have going for me."
"I'm sorry..." Rhaenyra choked out, burying her head in her father's chest. She hadn't realized how deeply a single look or touch from him could affect her.
Rhaegar sat on the edge of the bed and patted Rhaenyra's head softly. "No one is blaming you. Let me treat Father first."
Rhaenyra sniffled and said, "Do it, just don't let Father be in pain."
Rhaegar and Viserys exchanged a helpless glance.
"Father has many wounds on his body. Don't be afraid," Rhaegar reminded gently as he helped his father remove his robe.
"Don't worry." Rhaenyra wiped her eyes and moved aside to give them space.
Rhaegar began the treatment. Viserys, bare-chested, grimaced and groaned occasionally, enduring the pain and itch as his wounds healed.
Rhaegar was focused, using a strangely shaped serpent to draw black smoke from each wound. Halfway through the treatment, Rhaenyra couldn't bear to watch any longer. She quickly walked to the other side of the bed, knelt, and wrapped her arms around her father.
Viserys leaned against her shoulder, the pain easing a bit, and forced a smile.
After a long while, the treatment was over. Rhaenyra dressed her father in his robe, carefully smoothing out the folds.
Rhaegar examined his father's freshly treated hand, noting the gash that had previously been deep enough to see the bone. Now, only a faint bloodstain remained.
"The wound is healing," Rhaegar said, a flash of inspiration lighting up his eyes. "It must be healing in the right way now."
Though Viserys was still a bit chesty and short of breath, he looked more relaxed. He watched his children, a warm smile spreading across his face. "It's late. You should both go back to rest."
He could see that the siblings had some unresolved issues when they entered, and he didn't want to take up any more of their time.
"There's no rush," Rhaegar said, his hands still working. He looked at his father seriously. "I have some questions for you. Father, have you ever thought about taming a dragon again?"
(Word count: 1,499)