The Heir of the Dragon: A Rhaenyra Targaryen Quest

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Gain Trait: Diligent
-Nothing worth having comes easy. Your birthright may have made you heir to the Iron Throne, but it's hard work that sharpened your mind, gave your sword arm and made you a knight. And it is hard work that will actually put you on your father's throne. You don't leave things have finished, you are willing to work at a task for hours on end, even until the night, to ensure it's done. When you train at something you put your heart and soul into it, loathe to put aside until you are satisfied with your progress. A prince might be able to rest easy in your position, but that is a luxury you cannot afford, and in truth it's one your grown a distinct distaste for. After all, hours spent lounging around doing nothing could be better spent practicing with your sword, studying the histories, or working on a poem for a fair maiden.

Second Free Action Unlocked
Rest Actions Give Reduced Stress Relief.
Remember: All Work and No Play Makes For an Unhappy Princess

You found Ser Tarly in the training yard, making quick work of his straw and burlap enemies. He turned at your footsteps, a broad smile filling his mustached face at the sight of you.

There were few people near the training yard at this hour. Most of the servants were attending to guests who had come for your knighthood ceremony and few at court had any interest in training at the moment, which left you comfortable enough to kneel before your mentor. Such a thing, a princess kneeling before a knight of the Kingsguard, was not done, but he had more than earned the honor.

"Now now, enough of that," Ser Tarly urged you up. "A knight should not have to kneel before a fellow knight."

"It is the least I could do," you replied. "Without you, I never would have earned my knighthood."

"I don't believe that," Ser Tarky retorted. "Oh I have no doubt it would have taken you longer, but a knighthood at five and twenty is still knighthood. Even beyond the fact you skipped out on most of the training a squire a gets, you are an incredibly fast learner, princess. You are by far the easiest person I've ever trained. Rarely had to show you something more than once. A natural with the blade if ever there was one. And more than willing to put in the hours with training."

You were grateful you became a knight now instead of later. You had taken numerous risks to get here, but only fools would argue you earned it through anything other than merit. Johanna had no sons for you to be compared against, no daughters who were the very picture of a dutiful princess for people to hold up next to you and say: "Why can't she be more like them?" The only person they could compare you to is Daemon, and you'd have to work very hard to look worse than him.

"I hope I didn't get you in any trouble," you added. "I know my father was quite upset over this whole thing."

"Nothing I wasn't prepared for," Ser Raylon seemed dismissive. "The Lord Commander was quite unhappy with me, the Hand of the King was downright furious, accusing me of making a defiant girl completely uncontrollable."

You bristled a bit at hearing what Otto said. Hopefully people would stop seeing you as just a 'willful girl' now that you were an annointed knight.

"There were threats of explusion and being sent to the wall, but I knew it was all hot air," Ser Raylon went on. "They made it very clear that your knighthood was only allowed because of the doctrine of exceptionalism and I was not to allow you to go around knighting any other girls."

"I wouldn't dishonor what I've been given by just knighting anyone," you grew defensive.

"I told them that," Raylon assured you, "and to be honest, I doubt we'll see any woman who can match your skill with the blade and dedication for the next century. You are a rare breed, princess, even for a Targaryen."

"Thank you," you nodded.

"Would you mind following me, princess?" Ser Tarly asked as he put away his sword and began removing his armor. "There's something I've been saving for just such an occasion."

"Of course," you nodded. "Lead on, fellow knight." A silly grin appeared on your face as you said that.

You followed Raylon into the White Sword Tower of the Kingsguard, through the undercroft and past the common room. As you climbed the stairs, your mind wandered. You had had not only accomplished one of your biggest dreams, you had accomplished it early. With any luck you'd have decades of experience as a knight before you became queen. That gave you time. Time to work on other goals and other dreams.

What is Your New Dream?
[] [Dream] To convince Alicent to ride on Syrax
Things have changed a lot between you and Alicent these past few years, going from a deeply estranged friendship to a romantic bond. Alicent herself has begun to change. Ever since the trial at the Eyrie, she seems less hidebound then she once was. And yet still Alicent refuses to even consider going for a ride with you. Not of fear of Syrax. Rather she fears she will look improper. That absurdity is preventing someone you care about deeply from sharing in one of your greatest passions. You can fix this. You know you can. With some work, you're certain you can convince Alicent to take at least one ride with you.

[] [Dream] To Visit Essos
You are Six and Ten years of age, and your father is in decent health. It will in all likelyhood be many decades before you sit the Iron Throne. That's more than time enough for you to live, and explore. Your progress has given you a taste for travel, but you want to do something less bound by expectations as a princess and heir. You want to see Essos, explore the Free Cities and beyond. See things you would never see in the Seven Kingdoms before duty would make such travels impossible.

[] [Dream] Bring Dorne into the Fold.
Dorne. The last real part of Westeros that has yet to bend to the Iron Throne. Aegon had tried to conquer it once and it bleed the realm of thousands of men, and killed one of his sister-wives and her dragon. Dorne is the one black mark on the Targaryen dynasty, the one defeat inflicted upon your family by anyone other then one of your own. If you brought it into the fold, through fire or through diplomacy, you would finally finish Aegon's Conquest, bringing your family, and yourself, a great deal of glory and prestige.

[] [Dream] [Diligent] Master a Skill
Few things are better than seeing your hard work pay off. Part of you will always strive towards perfection even if realistically it is impossible. You want to master a skill, and be acknowledged for it. Be it a master of the blade, a poet without peer, or a law-giver greater than even Lord Strong. The specific talent or skill does not matter, just so long as you master whatever you apply yourself to. No matter what it will take considerable time and effort, but the same was true of most things worth doing in life.

[] [Dream] Become an Exemplar of Knighthood.
You are a knight, but you wish to become the knight. You want people to mention Rhaenyra the Dragonknight in the same breath as Symeon Star-Eyes. For generations to come, you want to be held up as a example of martial prowess and what chivalry should be. This will require even more work than your knighthood did, more tourney victories, squires of your own, and of course to act as a knight should, no matter if people say it is improper for a woman or not.

[] [Dream] Write-in ( Heavily Subject to QM Approval)

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Ser Raylon's quarters in the White Sword Tower were surprisingly sparse. The room was not very big, containing just enough room for a bed, an armor rack, and a small desk and chair. More like an enlarged prison cell than the quarters of an honored knight.

You watched as your sworn shield bent down and pulled out a large leather satchel from beneath his bed, producing a dusty bottle of white wine.

"I don't have much taste for drink," he admitted as he searched around for two glasses, eventually finding them and placing them on the desk. "Dulls the senses too much for my liking. But there is a time and place for almost everything."

He motioned for you to sit in the chair as he poured drinks and you obliged.

"I am told this is a highly sought after vintage of Arbor Gold," Raylon explained. "Autumn harvest. Queen Alysanne's favorite during her final years. You could probably buy a manse with the gold from one of these bottles if you found the right buyer. But's not what makes this bottle important to me. I don't much care for any of that. To me, all that matters is I won it from Lord Redwyne himself."

"Must have been a special occasion," you remarked, "for such expensive wine to be at stake."

"It was the Brightwater Tourney, about a decade ago," he replied, deep in thought. "Florent heir was having a wedding, so naturally every Reach house was there trying to show each other up. Reach politics are something of a sack of cats you see. The Tyrells are in charge, but as far as most houses are concerned they're stewards who got lucky so no one gives them respect. Anyways. For the past three tourneys leading up to this, Redwyne had been making a fool of house Tarly. Defeating myself, my cousin Donald and his sons multiple times. For a martial house like mine, losing to a wine-drinking boat lover was a bit intolerable."

You sipped at your wine, it was fruity and rich, though it had a strong edge to it as well.

"By the time I faced him, my cousin was already out of the running, knocked out by Boremund Baratheon," he went on, "and his sons were busy elsewhere. So, I was the only shot we had at defeating him this tourney. And with this being winter, we probably wouldn't see another tourney for months, maybe years. Our tilt went on for five rounds. Bastard clung to his horse harder than any man I ever saw. By the time I won I was so exhausted from the day and so injuried from repeated lance hits that I collapsed right there on the tourney grounds. Woke up with Lord Redwyne at my side, offering three bottles of the wine as both a compliment for my victory and apologies for my injuries."

"The first bottle we shared that night," Tarly smiled, "and the second was shared with my new brothers when I joined the Kingsguard."

"Your family must have been quite proud of that victory," you smiled.

"Quite," he nodded, his mustache twitching slightly as he did. "Though I must say I've done more for the realm in two years as a Kingsguard then I did for my family in three decades as a knight. Training you has given me purpose in life that I never had before."

You nodded at his words.

"As I said, Raylon," your words were warm and kind, "I wouldn't be where I am now without you. I'm glad you won that day."

"As am I," he smiled as the two of you raised your glasses in a small toast.

"Now, not to be a bore," he shifted topics, "but now that you're a knight we need to think about your future. Knighthood alone will not make you queen."

"Well Lord Strong is training me to fill his seat one day," you replied.

Mistress of Laws was not your ideal position, but you knew you would have a great mentor with Lord Strong at least.

"Excellent," Raylon nodded. "Master of Laws is a powerful position. In time you might be able to use that seat to push your father to finally deal with Dorne once and for all."

Dorne was a tricky question to be sure. A deathtrap for Targaryens, but also a black mark on your family and a threat to your uncle's efforts in the Stepstones as well. Many would support war with Dorne. Even part of you longed for it. War would be a chance for you to show your prowess, and take command.

"More immediately you need to think of getting married," he advised. "We need to find you a suitable husband, one who's strong, has influence, but also understands that you're to be head of your household, not him."

"Hmm," you pondered the idea. "Do you have any suggestions?"

You weren't keen on the idea of getting married anytime, but you had to admit Raylon's phrasing made it more tolerable to think about. A reminder that you were picking out a consort, not a man to rule over you.

"Ser Harwin Breakbones would be my first pick. Strong as an oxen and seems to be one of the few men who doesn't have their head shoved up themselves about you," Raylon suggested. "And as much as I loathe to suggest a Hightower, Otto's son Gwayne seems a good choice. Lad's already angling for it I think, and you're on good terms with him and his sister already. More importantly it will secure Otto's support for you. You need a marriage that gives you powerful allies."

"If it's power we're worried about, what about Ser Leanor," you suggested. "House Velayron is probably the second most powerful house in the realm after all."

"No, I would not do that," Ser Tarly shook his head. "If you marry Leanor Velayron, the Sea Snake will wrap himself around you and squeeze you until you turn purple. You should marry a Velayron if you worry their dragons will turn on you, and they will not turn on you."

"You seem very confident about that," you raised an eyebrow, "why?"

"The Sea Snake may rule his house but it is his wife who commands their dragons," Raylon replied. "Rhaenys has three dragons under her command, inculding Vhagar. If she believed she had a rightful claim to the Iron Throne, she would have made her move the moment Laena became a rider. Daemon is away in the Stepstones and it would be three dragons, one of which is considerably larger than your own, against you. You'd have no chance. Rhaenys will not fly against you. The only one you need worry about is Daemon, and he only has one dragon."

This sort of talk was definitely skirting some lines. After all, you could never even indirectly accuse your cousin Rhaenys of even considering such treason, let alone Daemon. But his point was an interesting one. Rhaenys did have King's Landing vastly outnumbered and outsized when it came to dragons. She could easily assert her claim, but she didn't.

You briefly considered mentioning Qoren Martell's interest. It could be a chance to bring Dorne into the fold after all, but considering Ser Raylon's hatred of the Dornish and the fact you weren't even sure what this interest even meant, you decided to leave that discussion for another time.

There was something you wanted to discuss with him though.

"What about my sword training?" you asked. "Now that I'm a knight, are we going to change my training?"

Raylon smoothed out his mustache for a moment.

"I admit I find myself conflicted on this," he replied. "The training was always a means to an end. We have achieved that end. You are an anointed knight and no matter how strong you become, your greatest weapon will always be your dragon. And yet, considering your age and your talent, it's clear you can reach even greater heights with your sword arm then you already have. Though I don't know how."

He stared at his wine cup for, deep in thought.

"Way I see it we have two options. First option we cut down your training to a few times a week for a few hours total, enough to keep you sharp and in shape for the tourneys if you want," he said. "Or we keep training as we have been and trying to figure out how to push from being a great knight into something out of the legends."

You were deeply conflicted. Fighting was what you were good at. You wielded swords better than men twice your age. And knew you could be better with proper training. But Raylon had a point. You achieved what you wanted with your sword fighting, You could go further but the gains would purely be for your own benefit and there was so much else you had to do right now.

You would be denying yourself a chance at greatness.

You would be giving yourself a chance to atain greatness in other ways.

Relationship with Ser Raylon Tarly Has Improved

How Do You Handle Your Sword Training?

[] [Tarly] You've achieved enough, cut back to just what you need. (Locks out Prowess Training, Prowess Will Not Decrease unless Rhaenyra is rendered infirm for months)

[] [Tarly] There is more you can achieve (Rhaenyra will gain Stress if she does not semi-regularly take Prowess Training)

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A knock awoke you early the next morning. The Hand of the King was waiting at your door along with Ser Tarly.

"The Queen has gone into Labor," Otto announced. "The king is at her side."

"Oh," the news hit you like ice cold water. "Is there anything needed of me?"

"Not at this time," Otto said, his tone barely changed from it's normal calm. "The king simply wished to make sure you aware of what was happening. A maester will come for you once there's been further developments."

You couldn't get back to sleep after that, a hundred fears going through your mind. You feared what would happen if Johanna died. Whatever your frustrations with her, you did not wish the queen ill and you feared what losing a second wife would do to your father. You feared what would happen if the twins came out deformed. You'd seen enough family records to know that occasionally Targaryens had stillbirths that were rather unusual to put it lightly. You didn't want the Westerlings privately thinking of you and your family as monsters. But most of all, you worried Johanna might have a boy.

The queen having a son or sons would be a bigger threat to your status as heir than Daemon ever would. The Westerlings would be pushing for their kin to be made heir from almost the moment they took their first breath and much of the realm would expect them to replace you.

You sat in one of your chairs for what felt like hours before finally a maester by the name of Orwyle came to your door.

"Princess, you'll be pleased to know the Queen has given birth to two healthy little girls," Orwyle declared. "All three are doing fine."

You sighed deeply in relief. Thankfully your were sure Orwyle took at as a sign your main worry had been about the queen's health.

Twin girls. You could deal with that. Even beyond your father's decree, you would still be seen as heir by every law and custom in Westeros.

"The king remains at the Queens bedside for now as she recovers," Orwyle explained, "but you can visit the twins if you so wish."

"Huh?" You found yourself befuddled by the question for a moment. "Oh, yes, lead the way, good sir."

You had no interest in even meeting Johanna's daughters, but you knew for appearance sake you had to visit.

Orwyle lead you to the Queen's chambers where Johanna's father, Lord Commander Westerling, Tyland Lannister, and Otto Hightower were all waiting, along with various maesters, septas and wet nurses.

Lord Roland was crying openly in joy as he held one of his grandchild, a septa held the other.

"Oh, good. Princess you're here," Roland smiled broadly through his tears, "come, meet your sisters."

You approached hesitantly, gazing down at the small bundle in arms.

The infant you saw was larger than you expected for a newborn, not unusually so or fat, just bigger, still a small thing though. She was a pink wiggling thing with a faint hint of white hair on top of her head and brown eyes like her mother.

Part of you thought you would feel something when you finally saw Johanna's children, that some wall within you would crumble and you would accept them as your sisters. Nothing of the sort happened. The baby was cute and you were happy for Johanna and her father, but you felt nothing for the baby.

"Oh, wow," you said, trying to bury your indifference, "she's quite the big one, isn't she? What's her name."

"Helaena. She's the elder of the two," Johanna's father replied. "And you're quite right, the maesters are joking she could already walk and talk when she was born.

"Lord Westerling," one of the Maesters urged. "We do need to get the infants back to her mother."

"Of course," Roland nodded, "but show Aelora to the Princess first."

So, Johanna did go with your suggestion. Well that was very kind of her.

The wet nurse brough the baby forward, pulling away her wrappings just enough to reveal her face.

You nearly screamed at the sight, your blood turning to ice as your heart threatened to stop entirely. Sweat running down your face, your mind refusing to accept what was in front of you.

"Princess is something wrong?" your former sworn shield asked, noticing your distress.

The infant was smaller than her older sister. Pale with just a hint of silver-blonde hair on her head. She was starring at you as you stood there, looking at you with two-mismatched eyes, one purple, one deep blue. her pale cheek marked with angry red birthmark, shaped just like a dragon's claw.

"You named me after all," a voice echoed in your mind. "Named me and rejected me."

It couldn't be possible. It simply could not be. The girl you saw at Harrenhal was your age and Aelora was months away from even being born. It couldn't have been her. And yet the resemblance, even now, was unmistakable. Her face was so distinct. How could she be anyone else?

If that had truly been Aelora at Harrenhal, what did that mean? What of her words, her talk of dragons dancing and death in God's Eyes? Was that really all a vision of some grim future? A future that seemed all too possible now.

You wanted to scream. You wanted to tell someone, anyone, what you knew, but who could you even tell? You had only spoken of that vision to Syrax. The Westerlings would think you mad and even your father would have a hard time believing you.

You quickly fought to regain your composure, smiling as you pretended to admire Aelora, but the terror welling inside you refused to go away, and it would remain with you through the hours that followed.

+15 Stress

New Relationship Established
Helaena Targaryen

New Relationship Established
Aelora Targaryen

6 Hour Moratorium

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QM's Notes: Another Moratorium since Dreams are an important vote. I admit most of you saw the Aelora reveal coming a mile away, but I didn't want the reveal so subtly forshadowed that no one could have guessed.

Edit: Forgot to mention, Picking become an Exemplar of Knighthood and "You've achieved enough" together will create stress for Rhaenyra.