#ravella

It looked like years had passed since the last time King Viserys Targaryen had left his chambers to watch the children in the training yard. 

Weeks, was the correct response, but to a man rotting from the inside out, discharge leaking from any cut and puncture, every second felt like a lifetime. His wife, Queen Alicent, tried to cheer him up, and did everything she could to take care of him and make his life easier, though there wasn’t much to be done — he was going to suffer that illness for the rest of his life, Maester Mellos, had warned years ago. Each breath was a source of agony, each day a reminder that he was already dead inside. 

Viserys looked much older than his real age, and watching Ser Harrold and Ser Criston train Aegon and Aemond, he wondered if his grandfather, King Jaehaerys, had felt as close to death by the end of his reign as Viserys himself did. He didn’t know why his lungs and heart didn’t stop working; every day he closed his eyes to sleep thinking on whether there would be a tomorrow for him. 

He couldn’t say if he was relieved to find there was. 

Something caught his attention — a wild curtain of black hair, followed closely by the usually more sedated (and, right now, not less frenetic) silver curls of his youngest daughter, Helaena. The King watched in silence as Ravella interrupted the princes’ training to make frantic questions. His head — crowned by the same silver strands he’d bequeathed all his children — tilted when he saw Aegon, looking mournful, lower his sword to the ground and touch Ravella’s shoulder, saying something that was obviously apologetic. 

Viserys hadn’t known his eldest boy had it in him to offer comfort. Every time he blinked, it seemed to him that Aegon was drunk, up to some mischief. 

His surprise increased when Aemond came to stand to Ravella’s left, his right arm circling her shoulders — that son of his had a sensitive soul; he was the one more prone to offer comfort… only, he and Ravella spent their days arguing. He said something to her, she nodded, then both he and Aegon took off, disappearing from view. He couldn’t find his sons, though he saw Helaena and Ravella run away, in the direction of the godswood. 

From his position, the King followed the girls, hurrying through corridors with the support of a cane. All the servants he crossed paths with bowed in deference, then took off in a hurry, as if the Stranger himself were stalking them — or a dragon, he thought with a dry chuckle. 

In silence, he thought of the conversation he had with Alicent some days before, during the banquet to celebrate Helaena and Aegon’s wedding. His wife was adamant Aemond and Ravella carried a torch for each other, and while Viserys wasn’t sure of it, he admitted she knew them better than he did. The quality of his parenting had declined as had his health. 

Depending on what happened next, he’d grant Alicent’s request and push his son and ward together. They’d have to be patient, because those two truly enjoyed their bickering. Even now, he could picture them on the dance floor, arguing while they danced, following the music with the same fervor they snapped at each other. 

Finally, he reached the verandah that gave him the best view of the godswood. Ravella and Helaena were looking in the bushes, around the trees, under the stone benches and… “Ser Willis,” Alicent was breathless from running upstairs. “Have you seen Ravella’s dog?” 

“No, Your Grace,” Ser Willis Fell answered. 

“Alicent, calm down. Take a deep breath,” Viserys took her by the hand, led her to a bench. “Be easy, or you’ll have an apoplexy.” She obeyed, taking deep, steadying breaths. “What’s wrong?” he asked when her breathing got easier. 

“Ravella’s dog has gone missing. She’s been looking for hours.” 

That explained Aegon and Aemond offering her comfort. Viserys knew Ravella had been one of the few people to congratulate Aemond after he claimed Vhagar — the old dragon that had belonged to their ancestress Queen Visenya Targaryen — and commending him on his bravery. 

The memory of her, who seldom had pleasant things to say to Aemond, giving Aemond a brooch with Vhagar’s bust on his nameday filled the king with shame. He hadn’t congratulated Aemond, even if he, more than anyone, understood his son’s agony, comprehended fully well what had led Aemond to try his luck with the old beast. To be a Targaryen, and not a dragonrider… 

He’d also failed to protect his son. Hours before bonding with Vhagar, Aemond had been whole; a few minutes after coming off her saddle, he was injured and crippled for life. Three years, and he was still training to make up for the loss of his eyesight. 

Perhaps of his eye, Viserys thought. There were rumors Aemond had the destroyed globe removed and replaced by a gemstone. The king didn’t have the courage to ask. He was a failure as a father, didn’t believe he was entitled an answer. 

His eyes settled on Ravella’s back, and he wished she got her dog back. It was odd the way he’d bonded with the girl. To everyone else, she was Lady Whitmore, his and Alicent’s ward, brought to Court after her father’s passing. But to them… she was a part of their family. 

He thought of her dog, the furry black animal, with its shiny coat, following her everywhere. Alicent’s handmaiden had once told them she’d heard Ravella crying, and upon opening the door, finding the dog dutifully licking her tears away and trying to cheer his owner up. 

Viserys didn’t want to think of Ravella losing that dog. She loved her pet, the same way Targaryens loved their dragons. The animal, which she often carried in her arms, would give up its life for her. 

“Everyone should help find the dog!” he barked suddenly. 

Alicent nodded. “They are trying. I’ve been looking as well. Helaena is the only one not looking, and that’s because she’s elected to stay with Ravella. Where could that dog have gone?” she wondered. 

“Your Graces, look!” Ser Willis said, bracing himself against the bannister. 

Viserys helped Alicent stand so they could join the knight. They watched as Ravella sat under the shade of the weirwood, knees pressed against her chest, body wrecked by sobs while Helaena ran her fingers through her hair. Despite the distance between them, the king knew her hopes of finding the dog were dwindling. 

Only, that wasn’t what had caught Ser Willis’ attention — it was Aemond, covered from head to toes with dust, carrying something twice as dirty in his arms, and striding toward Ravella. Helaena heard his approaching steps, glanced up, then patted Ravella on the shoulder. As one, the girls scrambled to their knees, watching, breathless, as Aemond closed the distance between them. 

He stayed about a foot away from Ravella, holding his arms out. The dusty thing he held moved… and barked, excited, wiggling its tail. Viserys threw his head back to laugh, the sound of Ravella’s scream of joy piercing the air. Next to him, Alicent was bouncing on her feet, all but prancing; she held him by the waist, resting her head against his upper arm. To his right, Ser Willis had a small smile on his lips. 

“Why is Aemond covered in dust and spiderwebs?” Alicent asked, still laughing. 

“He must’ve found the dog in the secret passages,” he guessed, heart twisting when he saw Helaena run into Aemond’s arms, as excited as her friend. Aegon, as dirty as Aemond, soon joined them. 

Viserys studied the children. Helaena and Aegon were married, a match arranged by Alicent. She’d told him it was Valyrian tradition — one she found disgusting —, though he knew the truth: Alicent didn’t want Helaena to marry Jacaerys, Viserys’ grandson, on account of his illegitimacy. He didn’t argue with her wanting the best for their daughter, but knowing she didn’t consider the future king of the Seven Kingdoms good enough grated him. Besides, he considered Aemond was a much better fit for Helaena; he was calm and composed, wouldn’t press his sister. 

But now… Viserys inclined his head, squinting to better see: Ravella, still holding the dog against her chest, took two steps forward and spoke. Then, with a deep smile on her face, one that illuminated the godswood and lit up the entire world, she stood on her tiptoes and gave Aemond a kiss on his cheek. 

On his scarred left cheek. 

Then, still laughing, she did the same to Aegon, then took Helaena’s hand, both girls walking away while Ravella brushed most of the dust off the dog with her fingers, a gray cloud of dirt rising in the air around them. 

The silent adults weren’t the only ones watching them, Viserys noticed. Aemond, spine straight and tense, was also staring at Ravella’s back, a scowl distorting his face. But, when she disappeared inside the Keep, the glower on the young prince’s beet-red face diminished, changed until it turned into a small, discreet grin. Slowly, his spine relaxed, and he touched his fingers to his cheek, where the warmth of Ravella’s kiss still had to be imprinted. 

Viserys looked at Alicent. “If it is to Ravella and Aemond’s taste, I won’t argue.” 

“Really?” tears welled up in her eyes. 

“Really,” he smiled and kissed her forehead. “I want them to be happy. If you think they’ll be happier together, then you must be right. But they must agree to the match, Alicent.” 

“It might take a while,” she frowned. 

“It doesn’t matter if it takes years. We’ve promised Ravella that she will have the final say on the matter. It’s important Aemond does, too.” 

She nodded. “I agree, Viserys. What if someone asks for her hand before Aemond does?” 

“Reject the proposal.” 

“Don’t you mind?” 

“I want my son to have the advantage,” he grinned. The truth was, the more he thought of that match, the more he liked it. It was perfect — Ravella was like a daughter to them, and if she married Aemond, she’d be a part of their family. Alicent adored the girl, and trusted her to make her favorite child happy. Helaena would have a sister of a close age. 

All in all, it was much better than perfect. 

*** 

Weeks later, Viserys and Alicent joined the children on a picnic on the beach. Aemond and Aegon were racing in the sky — Sunfyre was winning, because he was younger and lighter than Vhagar — while Dreamfyre merrily soared between the clouds, riding the air currents. 

His younger daughter was pregnant with her first child, and Ravella had planned the picnic to commemorate. Not only that, but she’d worked with Aemond to make it happen. 

“Won’t you fly?” he asked Helaena. 

“My stomach’s too upset for that. I’ll wait a while,” she said, but took the twig Ravella handed her, and threw it as far as possible so Ravella’s dog could fetch it. 

It was impossible not to laugh at the sight of the small dog running after the small piece of wood, barking out loud in excitement. 

In a blink, the dog was back, offering the stick up to Ravella. She threw it in the opposite direction, and again, the furry animal took off. 

When she raised her gaze to them, her smile froze. “Your Graces?” 

Viserys said nothing, but Alicent turned ashen-faced. Ravella frowned, looking down… her eyes widened at the sudden darkness. Slowly, she turned around until she was facing Vhagar. Aemond’s dragon had landed in silence behind her. Viserys saw his son on the saddle, adjusting his body to watch. 

Ravella gathered her skirts and took a step to the right. Vhagar’s head moved, slowly, and rested on the sand, intercepting her. 

She went left, and Vhagar followed, intent. 

“She wants a hug,” Viserys called out. 

“Viserys!” Alicent said, though her voice was choked. 

“She won’t leave you alone,” he said, all but shouting, “Think of her as a really big dog.” 

Ravella glanced back and nodded. Then, she raised her hand and laid it on Vhagar’s scales. The dragon let out a loud, huge grumble that echoed in the distance. It grew and grew until it became a delighted hoar. Holding the reins, Aemond watched, transfixed, a silly, albeit confused, smile on his face.