#rhea.

by the way, i believe i've addressed this before on my blog, but i cannot find the post and so i hope i'll be able to reiterate this well, but: my portrayal of rhea and her following narrative will contain a lot of criticism of daemon. it will always be in the context of their marriage. outside of it, she does not truly have any problems with daemon's character. in fact, sometimes, she will admit or even defend daemon's reputation as a great knight, swordsman, dragonrider. rhea is an honourable woman, after all. she does not slander nor lie.

still, there is admittedly a lot of bad blood between them. i've always imagined it like this : they are sort of victims of each other, as much as they are the perpetrators of each other's wound. i believe, in their early days of marriage, they would say the most hurtful thing to each other — mostly because daemon is against the marriage, and rhea is completely taken aback that he will not, essentially, carry this duty to her as her lord husband. remember, rhea comes from someone who honours these things, who follows duty step-by-step, who was taught to uphold it even. it's unfathomable to her that he just threw that out of the window. so — metaphorically — he bit at her, and she bit back. they are each other's anguish.

but, all the same, i do believe they are also together victims of a much larger system, aka the monarchy of his family. based on the book, good queen alysanne arranged the match. and in my personal headcanon, rhea – possibly having been without a maternal influence – had truly been enticed by the strengthened claim of her seat that queen alysanne promised, but also most likely have been just as moved by someone of higher authority who recognised her potential and had somewhat been motherly to her. she was ensnared by the possibility of a targaryen backing her position as runestone's heir, and so she accepted the match. in reality, of course, the match has most likely already been decided.

and, more than likely, it is rhea's much stable position that queen alysanne had sought after, to ensure that her grandson or the targaryen dynasty may have another claim to a stronghold and land.

that is to say, while rhea has very bad experience and it will be expressed in her narrative, i do see and write this dynamic with much complexity. i believe both daemon and rhea were dealt with very shitty sutuations and they both, in their youth and stubbornness, couldn't have handled it nor saw the larger picture to be able to rise above it. so again, metaphorically, they bit at each other. and of course, as it is in fictional writings, i welcome conversations and situations to consider if they would. or, if they could reflect on it much, much later — even with other characters.

❛⠀do you mock me ?  ❜

the words burst out of her before she could help herself. suddenly, all at once, it feels as though every restrained composure she has kept are threatened singularly by this piercing remarks. she knows not if he'd meant it as a jest, or in a way that reflects his mischievousness: manoeuvring their talks so she could possibly admit that her heart has indeed been stolen by the boy-sailor of her youth, but in the moment, all rhea could remember were the countless fights and accusations she'd endured each time her so-called lord husband cursed her of her honourable front. deride her of their marriage bed he will never grace.

as though rhea had the full say of their marriage in the first place. as though she, too, was not wounded by the promises that his family had not kept, had betrayed her with. daemon targaryen's unrelenting defiance is inspiring only to the way she applies it in her lordship. in his shadow, she learnt to keep her chin high, to not bend so easily by the easy whims of men in her council. but beyond that, rhea had kept every hurt her lord husband had dealt her like they were still scars she, sometimes, could not help but itch.

some days, they still bleed.

and of course, of course, she understands that she too had dealt him her own wounds. she, too, in her fury for such blatant disrespect, have dug her knives deep and pulled her arrow tight in ensuring he is as injured as she. they are as much victims of each other, as they are the perpetrator — that much, rhea will not deny. still. still.

she is the abandoned, the unwanted.

and often, in such lonely nights – rarer now, thankfully – she wonders if she will always be just that : the woman anyone would abandon. the woman nobody would want. even klaus left. for war, of course — rhea understands as much. she too had went on with her marriage; had told him that their summers had meet its end. despite it all, did he still not left ? was it because of this : because she is difficult, and stubborn, and wilful ? because she is a lady made from the bedrock of her ancestors, and the woman who would not yield ? casting aside the need for affection for a chance at the littlest of respect ? is she truly, devastatingly heartless ? is that what her dearest klaus, her summer-heart, her newly-learned nikolai, thought of her ?

rhea feels her eyes burn, it stings with the threat of a tear, but she clenches her jaw. she pretends she isn't hurt. she goes to him, marches really, and snaps into his face :

❛⠀i buried it.  ❜

she's just staring at him, unimpressed. perhaps the young lady royce had ought to learn to control her expressions better – but alas. she hasn't the slightest idea why her dearest, most loveliest cousin aemma would ever consider this fool.

if rhea speaks, it would be a crime against the crown.

so she doesn't. the temptation, of course, is mighty. it crowds and weighs on her tongue like nothing else. since her own wedding to the second prince of the seven kingdoms, there is much rhea wishes she could say, she could ask, from which she knows could not be answered: after all, had they predicted this, the good queen alysanne and her kins ? could she have anticipated daemon's stubbornness and insistency in maintaining the chastity of this marriage when he would not do the same with the whores he invites to his bed ? and what would this mean for everyone ?

is rhea expected to remain patient ? would their wedding bed remain bear, and her own womb barren ? ( and could rhea want this, be sate with this ? for so long, she'd been taught that a lady's eventual duty would be to give birth, to have children, even if they could rule. and while apart of her felt relieved to not have to meet childbirth so quickly, another twists itself in agony of what will be robbed. could this truly be the once-wedding everyone had so joyously celebrated ? could this be what those promises, and vows, reduced to ? )

so yes — rhea does not speak. instead, she holds tightly around aemma's arms, and she says nothing to the latest swell of her good-sister's stomach. had viserys been so eager, to plant another child, when rhaenyra is none but a few months old ? and, more importantly, is this hurting her? is this hurting her? is this hurting her? why would he do this when it hurts her—

❛ and i, you. ❜ she reaches to pull strands of blonde hair behind aemma's ears, and rhea tries to smile, though she thinks her concern is much stronger for it to appear sincere. ❛ tell me, my aemma, what ails you ? ❜

❛⠀do you worry ?  ❜ her voice is calm. ❛⠀do not. this much injury could still be healed.  ❜