Chapter 38: Nightmare
Lilyanna did not know how she had found herself here, standing on the shores of a rocky, desolate beach.
The wind battered against her skin, and above her the skies were gray and lifeless. The waves of the seas were rough and turbulent, crashing violently against the shoreline.
At first, Lilyanna thought she was on Dragonstone, but when she turned around, she saw the remains of a hollowed-out, razed castle.
The princess followed her compulsion and walked toward the castle, climbing the cliffs and dragging herself over jagged stones that were slick with saltwater.
When she reached the top, she found herself in front of what had once been a gate, the castle looking larger and far more decrepit than she first thought, the bones of the structure barely holding itself together, and everything that was left, including the ground, was scorched.
"Do you know why I brought you both here?" Lilyanna jumped when she heard a deep voice speak, and when she looked down, saw a large man, standing well over six feet tall, with long and curly black hair, a thick beard, and a crown of black iron resting atop his head.
His face was haggard and wrinkled, making it hard for Lilyanna to accurately tell his age. He wore a short-sleeved, black wool tunic under a heavy cloak and flared trousers, standing in front of two small boys who were similarly dressed.
What language was he speaking? Lilyanna thought, knowing that it was not one she had heard before but for some reason was able to understand it and wondering how she did not notice the three when she first arrived.
The two boys looked at each other before the older one looked up at the man confidently. "You brought us here because you plan to rebuild Hoare Castle. Another seat to add to that of Pyke and Hoare Tower, to show all the prosperity of our reign."
The man sneered at the older boy. "Are you truly stupid enough to believe that I would have us leave the green lands at a time such as this, and travel to Great Wyk simply to show you a castle I wish to rebuild?"
The boy did not respond, knowing that any answer he gave would only entice his father to lay his hands upon him.
The man looked at his younger son. "Harlik, tell me that you do not have as disappointing an answer as Harren's."
Wait, Harren? Lilyanna thought, staring at the three as a cold realization crept over her.
She questioned how she could be having a dream of Harren Hoare's memories, having only experienced such a phenomenon with the Targaryens that she was bonded to.
Is it because I'm in Harrenhal? Is this the castle's magic at work? Lilyanna did not like the implications of what such a notion could mean while she was here.
Harlik hesitated, shrinking slightly under his father's gaze before answering. "You… You brought us here to show us just how easily our family's power and legacy can be diminished. And that we should not become overconfident due to current successes."
Harren huffed, rolling his eyes. "What a load of shit. What kind of-"
Harren was cut off when his father slammed his fist hard on the top of his head, the blow forcing the boy to his knees with a sharp crack that echoed against the burned stone beneath him.
"Do not put words in my mouth, boy," The man growled, his voice low and dangerous. "You will speak when you are spoken to, and you will speak sense when you do. You are the eldest son of me, Halleck Hoare; you damned fool, act like it!"
Harlik flinched but said nothing, not wanting to draw his father's ire as his brother had just done.
If it were anyone else besides the second King of the Isles and the Rivers, who had humiliated him so, Harren would have had them and everyone they loved mutilated, and their broken bodies fed to the dogs. Instead, Harren sucked in a sharp breath, his hands clenching at his sides as he fought not to cry out in pain.
Halleck looked between his sons, his dark eyes hard as he gestured to the ruined castle behind him. "Ever since our ancestors slew King Rognar II Greyiron and took the Seastone Chair for ourselves, there have been those who wished to see us brought low. This castle for centuries had been a symbol of our might, until Harmund III and his wretched Westermen mother, Lelia Lannister, tried to denounce our God and end the Old Way. Their weakness led to the murder of Hagon the Heartless, a King who had sought to resolve the issues his elder brother and mother caused and led to the Ironborn being subjugated by Aubrey Crakehall."
We know this already. Why must I have to listen to tales of fools long since dead? Lilyanna winced, her eyes widening as she heard Harren's voice ringing in her ears despite his lips not moving.
What the fuck is going on?!
"Even after that Andal dog was overthrown six moons after his rise and drowned as a sacrifice to the Drowned God, over the following centuries, each Hoare King grew weaker than the last," Halleck clenched his fists, glaring at Hoare Castle. "And our decline would have continued if not for the actions of my father, Harwyn Hardhand; we would not now rule the Iron Islands and the Riverlands as Kings feared from the sea to the mainland. And do you know why that is?"
Neither boy answered their father, waiting for him to tell them.
"Because strength is not given, it is taken. And it is proven, again and again, lest others forget who their masters are. That is what my father had done, what I am doing, and what you both will do," Halleck growled. "This place was a warning, a reminder of what happens when our house grows soft, when we forget the Old Way, and when we believe our rule to be secure. That is the lesson I want to instill in you, one that my own had done for me and my brothers when he brought us here to look upon the bones of what we once were and swore that we would never be brought so low again. So, remember and remember it well."
"Yes, father," Harren and Harlik said in unison, though Harren's voice carried a tightness to it.
Halleck studied them for a long moment before giving a single, satisfied nod. "Good."
I will never be like you; I will be far better than you will ever dream of being. Once again, Lilyanna could hear Harren's voice in her head, seeing the wrathful expression he was struggling to hide.
Before she could think further of this moment, Lilyanna suddenly felt a hand wrapping itself around her throat, lifting her off the ground and squeezing tightly.
Her eyes widened when she now looked into the eyes of a large, portly man with thinning black hair dressed in black armor, her feet kicking out uselessly in the air as her hands clawed at the man's hand, unable to dislodge him.
As she was being choked, she could see the resemblance the man had with the younger Harren Hoare she had been forced to watch, and when she looked over his shoulder, she saw that Halleck and his sons were no longer there.
Harren Hoare? Lilyanna tried to open her mouth to speak, but Harren the Black simply squeezed her neck tighter, glee shining in her eyes as she struggled to breathe.
The world around her shifted, and Hoare Castle was replaced with Harrenhal, flames bursting from the towers, racing along the walls, bathing the sky in red and gold. She could hear the ear-piercing and terrible screams emanating from the castle, could see the shadowy figures of people running, burning, collapsing within the overwhelming blaze.
Harren started to laugh, drawing Lilyanna's attention back to him. "You can see me, you are here with me."
The King lifted his other hand and roughly dragged a finger down Lilyanna's face, smearing soot and ash across her skin, feeling like her flesh was being branded.
His smile turned cruel and vicious as he gazed into Lilyanna's eyes, the light of the fire making his dark eyes look even more ominous. "Is this that fool's plot? The dragonspawn managed to dig his way out of hell, and accomplished this… obscenity? Tell me, girl, if I kill you, will the so-called King of Westeros come show himself?"
There had been a time when Simon had wished that his eldest brother, Bywin, had never accepted the title of Harrenhal's lord from King Jaehaerys.
He was young then, only seven and ten, far younger than both Bywin and Lucamore, as he had been born far later in their father's life and to the man's third wife. To him, leaving Talsworth, the only home he had ever known, had been devastating, even if he was old enough to understand the weight of what had been offered to his family.
His father, Ser Arnolf Strong, had been the third son of House Strong of Talsworth, and due to his place behind his two elder brothers and nephews, was never meant to inherit anything nor have anything to pass onto his sons. It was why Simon and his brothers strove to become exemplary knights, knowing that they would have to carve their own places in the world.
So of course, Bywin could not refuse when their King decided to make him, the eldest son of a third son, lord of the largest castle and some of the most fertile and richest lands in Westeros.
And as he stood within Hunter's Hall, overlooking a painting of the Trident and its three main tributaries, Simon could not help but think about the last time he had ventured to the banks of the Green Fork, longing for the simpler days when the world had not yet taken so much from him, when his family had still been whole.
For a moment, Simon could almost hear it—the gentle rush of water against the river, the distant laughter of boys long grown into men.
But the illusion did not last; when he turned his head, Simon almost felt his heart beat out of his chest as he caught sight of Princess Lilyanna Targaryen standing a few feet away from him, staring at him emotionlessly.
The girl was barefoot, dressed only in a thin, pale shift that clung to her body. Her red hair hung loose around her shoulders, and for a moment Simon wondered how long she had been standing there, silent and unmoving.
"Princess?" Simon said carefully; his voice was soft and uncertain.
At the sound of Simon's voice, Lilyanna's body jolted, and she sucked in a sharp breath, her eyes blinking rapidly and looking panicked, reaching up for her neck and holding it with both hands. She looked around the hall for a moment before her gaze fell upon the castle's elderly castellan.
"Ser… Simon?" She said hoarsely, relaxing slightly once she realized that she was no longer being strangled by Harren Hoare.
How the hell did I get here? Lilyanna thought, her pulse still racing as her fingers tightened instinctively around her neck.
"Princess…" Simon took a cautious step forward, his brows knitting together as he took in her appearance. "Are you unwell?"
Lilyanna swallowed, her throat dry and aching. "I… I am fine, Ser Simon. I just… I was in my bed and I... woke up here?"
"Perhaps you are being affected by the curse of Harrenhal," Simon said jokingly, trying to reassure Lilyanna.
Lilyanna frowned. "Curse?"
"You would not be the first person that I have found… wandering the castle grounds lost in the thralls of sleep; I would not be surprised if at this moment, others are moving about in similar states," Simon explained. "Our maester believes that the fear Harrenhal inspires in men, the stories that have formed in the light of countless tragedies that took place here, seeps into their dreams and that fear feels so real that their bodies begin to follow where their minds have gone, as if the castle itself is guiding their steps."
Lilyanna stared at him for a long moment, letting out a shaky breath and lowering her hands from her throat. "You may be right, gramps."
"Gramps?" Simon questioned, unfamiliar with the strange form of address.
"Gramps, short for grandfather because you're so old," Lilyanna muttered before her eyes widened and an apologetic expression formed on her face. "I am so sorry, Ser Simon. My lady mother is oft to say that I speak before I think at times."
Simon chuckled, amused by the display. "I have taken no offense, princess. My own children and grandchildren have said worse regarding my age, though rarely with such honesty."
Despite herself, Lilyanna let out a quiet huff of laughter, though it did little to steady the unease still coiling in her chest.
"Do you believe in the curse, Ser Simon?" The princess asked quietly, her voice steadier than before.
Simon was silent for a moment, his gaze drifting past her. "Harrenhal is an interesting place, and I have lived here long enough to see good men rise… and be brought low. Some would call that a curse; others would say it is simply the nature of power, and the price that comes with it."
Lilyanna frowned slightly. "That's not really an answer."
A faint smile touched Simon's lips. "No, I suppose it is not."
Lilyanna then glanced at the painting that Simon had been staring at before she had arrived in the hall, tracing the rivers with her eyes. When she looked back at the man, Simon already followed her eyes, and she could see a bittersweet smile now resting on his lips. "I know you must have heard this countless times, but I am sorry for your loss. Lord Lyonel and Ser Harwin were good men, and they deserved better than their fate."
If I had gotten rid of Larys, they would still be alive. They're dead because I grew complacent and overconfident. Lilyanna thought, clenching her hands.
Simon regarded her quietly, his expression softening. "They did, but the world is not often so kind as to give men the ends they deserve. But at least they have received justice thanks to the efforts of Prince Daemon and your father, the King, who honors them greatly by coming here personally to see them laid to rest."
Lilyanna did not know how to feel about Daemon receiving credit for what had been mostly her efforts, nor Viserys being praised when he allowed the man truly responsible for all of this to trick him into believing the matter settled and walk free within these very walls.
"I suppose that is true," Lilyanna forced herself to say.
"Come," Simon said gently, gesturing toward the doorway. "Let us return you to your chambers before your absence is noted. It would not do for the Queen to think Harrenhal has stolen one of her children."
Lilyanna huffed softly at that, though the humor did not quite reach her eyes. "Let's not add me to the castle's list of victims."
Simon allowed himself a chuckle as he led her from the hall.
When Lilyanna greeted Simon goodnight and entered her bedchamber, she found her twin sitting upright in bed while their brothers slept soundly around her.
Helaena's eyes were wide and unfocused; her hands twisted tightly in the furs, holding onto them for dear life.
"Helaena?" Lilyanna's brow furrowed as she stepped closer. "Are you-"
"The voices, the voices, the voices, the voices," Helaena muttered to herself repeatedly, staring intently at the fireplace.
Lilyanna sat down on the edge of the bed and carefully placed her hands on top of Helaena's, trying to still the frantic tremor running through her sister's fingers.
"Helaena," she said softly. "It's just a dream, you're safe."
Helaena squeezed Lilyanna's hands painfully tight. Her gaze then darted away from the flames, and she stared deeply into Lilyanna's eyes, her own still glossy. "The voices, the voices are calling you to the water."
A chill crept down Lilyanna's spine. "What are they saying?"
Helaena hesitated before her lips parted. "They're screaming; it's all they can do."
That's just fucking great. Lilyanna gently scratched the back of Helaena's head, causing her sister to instinctively close her eyes, relaxing into Lilyanna's touch.
"Come back to me, sister," Lilyanna whispered in High Valyrian, continuing to move her hand through Helaena's hair, holding her close.
It had been a while since Helaena had a dream that affected her this badly, one that pulled her so far from herself that it took more than a few gentle words to bring her back.
Slowly, the tension began to leave Helaena's body. Her grip on Lilyanna's hands loosened, and her breathing evened out, though her fingers still twitched faintly against the furs.
"Lily," Helaena whispered, finally opening her eyes, looking now more focused than before.
"Yes?"
"I hate this place."
Lilyanna let out a snort. "So do I."
"Where… where did you go?" Helaena asked.
Lilyanna sighed before explaining what had happened to her sister, describing everything in great detail, from the way Harren Hoare had looked at her to the screams that erupted from Harrenhal as the castle burned.
"Have you tried asking Aegon, Visenya, and Rhaenys about your dream?" Helaena asked once Lilyanna was done.
"I was thinking of-"
"We had seen the dream, Lilyanna," The girl flinched when she heard Aegon's voice behind her, squeezing Helaena's hand involuntarily.
Helaena noticed the reaction and knew what had happened; she looked around despite knowing that she would not be able to see the ghosts.
"So, you just decided to stand there watching instead of helping me?" Lilyanna whispered harshly when she turned around to look at the three ghosts, glancing down when she heard Daeron murmuring and turning to face the wall in his sleep.
"We tried to help," Aegon said, glaring at the ground, his fists clenched at his sides along with his jaw. "But it was as if there was a force between you and you, keeping us from reaching you."
Seeing Harren Hoare again, seeing the man's memory, then how the landscape had changed into the night when he had burned Harrenhal, and seeing Harren choking Lilyanna, filled Aegon with a rage he had not felt since he was alive.
"Could it be possible that Harren truly roams this castle? That he is like us?" Rhaenys quietly asked, looking at her siblings.
"Yes, that is most likely the case," Visenya said grimly, her gaze hardening as she thought about Lilyanna's dream.
Rhaenys frowned. "But Lilyanna has never interacted with a spirit that was not one of us, and we are all forcibly bonded to her. If this was something naturally occurring, then we would have encountered it long before now."
"Which is why I believe that Harrenhal is the cause," Visenya said. "As I said the other day, this place is a nexus and a strong one at that. It would not surprise me if Harren was not the only spirit inhabiting this castle; any who have died here could be unable or unwilling to pass on to the afterlife due to the magic that seeps through every crevasse. Who knows what other creatures could be tied to this place? It's quite fascinating to think about."
"Fascinating is not the word I would use to describe any of this," Lilyanna said, her hand unconsciously rising to her throat where she could still feel the phantom pressure of Harren's grip.
Visenya's gaze flicked downward toward Lilyanna's neck when she saw the motion, her expression softening slightly. "No, you would not. But for now, we should focus on making sure this does not happen again."
"What are they saying?" Helaena asked, staring at the space her sister was facing.
Lilyanna sighed. "What am I supposed to do?"
Visenya's eyes met Lilyanna's. "For as long as you stay here, you remain awake."
"That's your great solution?" Lilyanna deadpanned.
"It is the only one that guarantees he cannot reach you again."
Lilyanna let out a quiet, incredulous breath, dragging a hand down her face. "This place just keeps getting better and better."
"The best solution would be for Lilyanna to leave this place immediately," Aegon said, his voice dripping with frustration as he looked toward Visenya. "Every moment she remains here only gives him another chance to reach her."
"How would I explain my disappearance to my parents?" Lilyanna asked. "I don't think they would believe me if I told them that the ghost of Harren Hoare was attacking me in my dreams."
"Are your parents' worries more important than your life?" Aegon growled.
"We do not know just yet if Lilyanna's life is in danger. For all we know, appearing in her dreams is the most Harren is capable of," Visenya said, though there was a faint tightness in her voice that betrayed her uncertainty.
Aegon, however, caught the hesitation. "Is that a risk we should be willing to take? Yes, it was sleepwalking now, but-"
"Brother, calm yourself," Rhaenys said softly, placing her hand on Aegon's shoulder. "You are letting the feelings you have toward Harren affect you."
Visenya meanwhile huffed. "Yes, him being able to communicate with Lilyanna is strange, but given that we have been here for three days now, and this seems to be the only thing he has done so far. When she sees us in her dreams, nothing we do to her affects her actual body, so I doubt he can do anything else to her unless she is unconscious."
Lilyanna could see that the conversation was just going around in circles between the three siblings and decided to intervene. "Look, we should-Ow! What the hell, Helaena!"
Helaena pinched her sister's side again, harder this time, pouting as she did so. "Tell me what they're saying."
Lilyanna groaned, rolling her eyes as she once again thought about why she of all people was reincarnated.
"You two look like shit," Aegon said as he looked at his younger sisters, pieces of food flying out of his mouth as he spoke.
The family was in the middle of breaking their fast, and Lilyanna and Helaena had been the only ones not eating or participating in the scattered conversations, both looking worse for wear. Their faces were pale and drawn, dark circles shadowing their eyes, denoting their lack of sleep.
Helaena sat unnaturally still beside her twin, her fingers lightly tracing the rim of her cup over and over again. Lilyanna, meanwhile, leaned back in her chair, staring blankly at the table.
Alicent frowned, having heard the comment. "Aegon, mind your tone."
"I am only stating a fact," Aegon replied.
"Aegon," Lilyanna sighed, staring at her brother blankly. "You are the last person who should be commenting on anyone's appearance. You don't even bathe regularly."
"I bathe!" Aegon exclaimed.
"Not regularly," Helaena, Aemond, and Daeron said in unison.
"Fuck all of you," Aegon muttered, his cheeks turning slightly red.
"That is enough," Alicent said, her gaze shifting toward her daughters. "Lilyanna? Helaena? Are you both unwell?"
"We're fine," Lilyanna said.
Helaena tilted her head. "We didn't sleep."
Aegon snorted. "Yes, we gathered that."
"Aegon snoring kept us up," Helaena lied, and Lilyanna let out a snort under her breath.
Aegon glared at Helaena. "I don't snore!"
Alicent raised an eyebrow. "I thought I told the five of you not to sleep in Lilyanna's bedroom again."
"You did," Daeron said, fiddling with his fork nervously. "But, but the curse-"
Viserys chuckled from Alicent's other side, taking a sip of wine. "Ghost stories and old wives' tales," he said lightly. "Harrenhal has frightened men for generations; it is no wonder it has begun to frighten my children as well."
"That's not what this is," Daeron insisted, his voice small.
Viserys smiled faintly at that, though there was a trace of fatigue behind it. "Well, I do not think sleeping in your sister's bed will protect you regardless."
Alicent looked back at Helaena and Lilyanna, her eyes taking in their appearances. They were dressed well, wearing matching black gowns trimmed in gold thread; their hair neatly arranged, yet nothing about their appearance could hide the exhaustion etched into their features.
Alicent's frown deepened. "I understand that you are both tired, but we have much to do today and there will be no time for rest. Unlike your brothers, you have not been successful in finding companions of your own so far."
Despite having traveled to three castles, among the Queen's children, only Aegon and Daeron had been able to find friends amidst the sons and daughters of the nobility. Aegon with Eddard Waters and Daeron with Rylen Stokeworth, Lord Stokeworth's juvenile third cousin, and Mykal Mooton, the youngest nephew of Lord Mooton.
"Aemond has not been successful either," Helaena muttered.
Alicent ignored Helaena's remark. The twins knew that their mother was far more interested in the alliances her daughters could form than her sons. "You told me that you were both going to make the effort to find girls that you like. Instead, you are giving me excuses. Must I search for you? What other reason could there be for-"
Daemon scoffed, his voice traveling from where he sat at the end of the large table. "I believe it is quite clear why no one would allow their female relatives to be your daughters' ladies in waiting. Your eldest can hardly stand to touch others, hates loud noises, and will find herself lost in a daze whenever she dreams, and your youngest is hardly the sort of girl any sensible lord would wish his daughter to be influenced by. They may fear her teaching them to be just as unruly as she is, or that she will use them to wet her cock once she has them to herself."
"Daemon!" Viserys and Laena both exclaimed, looking equally appalled, Viserys' face flushing with anger while Laena's eyes flashed with sharp disapproval.
Alicent went rigid, her hand tightening around her goblet as she glared at the prince. "How dare you speak of my daughters in such a manner?"
Daemon leaned back in his chair as if he had not a care in the world; one arm slung lazily over the backrest. "I was merely speaking what others are too polite to say aloud."
Alicent moved to speak, further enraged by Daemon's words, but Lilyanna reached across the table to grab her hand, gently squeezing it.
"It's fine, mother, I don't care," Lilyanna said, her face expressionless as she kept her eyes on Alicent. "Besides, you shouldn't give children attention when they're throwing tantrums; it only encourages their immature behavior."
Lilyanna did not spare Daemon so much as a glance as she let go of Alicent's hand, leaning back in her chair again.
Daemon laughed, a low, amused sound that was more genuine than anything he had offered since arriving at Harrenhal. "Is that so, niece?"
Lilyanna did not look at him. "Of course, it's why I feel so bad for Aunt Laena. Talking care of four children all by herself, the Gods have given her quite the task."
"I suppose there cannot be a meal between us all without Lilyanna and Daemon getting into it," Laenor muttered under his breath.
Rhaenyra sighed, agreeing with her husband. While Lilyanna had seemed to ignore their uncle as much as she could, Daemon always found the need to try and test Lilyanna's patience.
Sometimes it worked, and other times it did not, but each encounter between them always ended in something foul and inappropriate being said.
Viserys exhaled sharply, the sound cutting through the tension. "Enough, I will not have this table turned into a place for insults and petty quarrels. I wish to hear nothing more of your arguments; do you both understand?"
He's the one who keeps attacking me! Lilyanna thought, clenching her fists underneath the table.
Daemon raised his hands slightly in mock surrender, though the smirk never left his face. "As you command, Your Grace."
Lilyanna let out a quiet breath through her nose, too tired to argue. "I'll keep that in mind, father."
The conversations around the table resumed after that, but the earlier ease was gone.
Lilyanna folded her arms over her chest, her appetite nonexistent.
Across the table, she could feel Daemon's gaze lingering on her, but she ignored it.
For a moment, everything seemed normal, until she noticed something moving toward her from the corner of her eyes.
At first, she thought it was a servant until she turned her head and caught sight of a man with horrific burns across his entire body, his flesh blackened and split, hanging from him in charred strips as smoke curled faintly from his skin.
He walked slowly through the hall, dragging one foot slightly behind the other, but no one moved to stop him; no one reacted at all to his presence, continuing to eat and talk as if nothing was wrong.
Lilyanna's breath hitched when the man's eyes found hers. He tried to smile at her, but the melted skin on his face did not allow move his lips very well.
Lilyanna's fingers tightened against the edge of the table. "Do you see him?" she whispered to her sister, not looking away from the man.
Helaena, who had still been tracing her fingers around the rim of her cup in slow, repetitive circles, looked up when she heard Lilyanna's voice in her ear. She could only see the side of Lilyanna's face, but she could tell that her sister was scared.
"I don't see anyone there, Lily," Helaena answered, staring at the space before them.
"Are you sure? Because-"
"It hurts…" Lilyanna froze when she heard the burned man suddenly speak, his mouth barely moving, but she could hear his voice loud and clear.
And just like in her dream, Lilyanna did not know what language the man was speaking but could still understand it.
The burned man came to a stop directly in front of Lilyanna, his body phasing through Daeron's, the young boy none the wiser to the thing that now stood between him and his sister, its ruined form bleeding smoke into the air.
"It hurts…" The man repeated, his voice wet and broken.
Lilyanna could not breathe as the smell of the man hit her; the scent of burned flesh was thick and cloying, making her stomach twist violently.
"Lily?" Helaena whispered, her voice laced with concern.
The man leaned closer to Lilyanna, his ruined face hovering inches from hers.
"We burned," He rasped. "We burned for him."
What the fuck?! Lilyanna dug her fingers deeper into the table, wanting this moment to end.
"Why did father not surrender?" The man asked, still staring at Lilyanna.
"Lilyanna?" The princess's head snapped toward her mother, seeing the concern in Alicent's eyes; she looked at her.
Lilyanna looked back at Daeron, but saw that the burned man was gone, the smell and smoke disappearing with him.
Daeron finally noticed his sister's gaze, turning his head to look at her questioningly.
"Lilyanna, what is it?" Alicent said more firmly, leaning forward slightly.
Lilyanna swallowed thickly, forcing a small smile onto her face. "Nothing is wrong, mother. I'm just tired."
Alicent did not believe her daughter, but did not question her further, deciding to ask again later.
What the hell? God, is it going to be like this until we leave? Lilyanna looked down at her plate, her appetite becoming even more nonexistent as the burned man's face refused to leave her mind.
When the family finished their meal and began to rise from the table, Lilyanna remained seated for a moment longer, her hands still clenched tightly in her lap.
"Lilyanna," The girl leaned her head back and saw her mother standing over her, looking even more worried.
"Sorry," Lilyanna muttered, standing up and trying to walk past Alicent and Ser Criston.
When they reached the doors of the hall, the Queen placed her hand on Lilyanna's shoulder, forcing her to slow down as the rest of their family walked ahead of them.
"Lilyanna, you should not believe a word Daemon says; he knows nothing. We will be able to…"
Is that what she thinks is bothering me? Lilyanna thought, having almost forgotten the interaction entirely.
Lilyanna shook her head, staring at her mother and ending Alicent's tirade about Daemon Targaryen and his impropriety. "I am not upset about what Daemon said. It's not as if what he said was wrong; no one would ever want their relatives, let alone their female ones, to be around me. They would be afraid of me either teaching them to behave like myself or that I may despoil them. I doubt the nobles of the Riverlands will be all that different than those of King's Landing or the Crownlands."
It was why Lilyanna was not worried when Alicent had first told her and Helaena that they must find ladies in waiting, viewing the whole affair as a waste of time. She was sure that Helaena would eventually find a few girls who would love being so closely tied to a Targaryen princess and who she would like in turn, but she herself had long since accepted that she was not meant to be someone other girls gravitated toward, but someone they were warned about.
Why would I even want to be surrounded by a bunch of vapid social climbers anyway? It would just make it harder for me to do as I have always done if I have a bunch of people watching me all the time. People who would sell me out at the most advantageous opportunity.
Alicent's expression tightened at her words, hating whenever Lilyanna would get like this.
"That is not true," The Queen said firmly, her voice betraying her frustration. "You are a princess of the realm; any house would be honored, would be tripping over themselves-"
"They trip over themselves for Aegon, Helaena, Aemond, and Daeron, not for me," Lilyanna said plainly. "I know that I am the only one you have not received offers for such, and I know why; I have always known why. You do not need to pretend otherwise, like I told my uncle; I don't care."
Lilyanna hated the pity and sadness she could see in Alicent's eyes, and even in Criston's eyes when she looked over Alicent's shoulder.
But she ignored the feeling, knowing that this was always going to be a topic that she and Alicent would fiercely disagree about, and unlike Viserys, Alicent was not good at pretending not to notice the obvious opinions of those around her.
And at this moment, the princess had more important things to worry about than Alicent's feelings.
Hours Later
Why in the Seven Hells did I ask for this again? Aegon thought as he looked down at the dirty armor lying on the ground before him.
"You must take care when rubbing the oil onto it, Prince Aegon, or the grime will never come off," Criston said as he stood over him.
After meeting Eddard in Rosby and taking him as his companion, Aegon had found himself enthralled by the stories Eddard would tell him stories about his adventures.
Eddard was a hedge knight, so most of his tales involved him competing in a few tourneys and hunting down some robber knights and outlaws with bounties on their heads.
Aegon had never been very interested in knighthood, finding little appeal in discipline or duty for duty's sake. Even his martial training had always been something he had done because it was expected of him as a prince and as a man. After all, he had never truly cared to excel at it.
It had never bothered him too much that he did not have Lilyanna's raw talent or Aemond's work ethic and perfectionist nature, or even Daeron's eagerness to please. But meeting someone just barely older than himself and seeing just how sheltered his life was in comparison to theirs and realizing, when looking outside of his family, just how narrow his worldview was, made him envious in a way he did not expect.
So, he had surprised his parents and Criston both when he asked to become the Kingsguard's squire when they left Rosby. But as he found himself on his knees scrubbing filth from Criston's armor like any common boy in the yard, Aegon began to question his own sanity in wanting any part of this.
This can't be all there is to squiring, is it? Criston has had me doing this for weeks now and little else!
Aegon grimaced as he dipped the cloth back into the bucket, the water long since turned murky with dirt and oil.
The only thing that made this all seem worth it was the
"You mussed a spot, brother," Aemond said, a small smirk gracing his lips as he turned away from the straw dummy in front of him to look at Aegon.
"Have you finished your set, Prince Aemond?" Criston asked before Aegon could snap back at his brother.
Aemond straightened at once. "Not yet, Ser Criston."
"Then I suggest you return to it," Criston said evenly. "A sharp tongue does not win battles; discipline does."
Aemond inclined his head without argument and turned back to the dummy, resuming his strikes with renewed focus.
Aegon rolled his eyes before looking around The Flowstone Yard. He, his brothers, and Criston were not the only ones occupying the large space; most of the castle's guests were either in the yard proper or were in the covered gallery overlooking it, the two groups split almost equally by gender, with the men favoring the yard itself while the women gathered along the gallery above, their voices carrying faintly as they watched everything below.
Lilyanna had wanted to join them, but Alicent had been firm on making sure that she and Helaena interacted with the other noble girls there and had all but dragged Lilyanna to the gallery. While Rhaenyra had not forced her eldest sons to attend to their shared lessons with Criston since Harwin died, Aegon could not say for certain the reason why his sister was doing this.
From where he kneeled, Aegon could see his parents, elder sister, and good brother talking to Jason Lannister of all people.
To say that most were surprised by the arrival of several Westerlands houses in Harrenhal for the funeral would be an understatement, especially with House Lannister leading them.
Memories were long in Westeros, and not enough time had passed for anyone to forget the scandal that many houses were embroiled in when the King's youngest daughter had created the Royal Bank and an audit of the realm's taxes had been made, revealing just how many were cheating the Crown, including a sizeable portion of the West.
It was clear to all that the Lord of Casterly Rock was trying to worm his way back into the Crown's good favor, acting entirely too shamelessly for a man who had been exposed for having stolen the most amount of gold out of every house involved and whose brother had been removed from the small council in disgrace due to this act.
Viserys looked to be the member of the royal family least bothered by Jason's presence, smiling awkwardly at the other man as he spoke. Alicent's expression was blank, but Aegon knew his mother well enough that he could see the tightness in her jaw and the faint rigidity in her posture. Laenor looked bored, as if he could not wait for the moment that Jason would stop speaking, and Rhaenyra looked as if she were trying to hide her emotions, but could not stop herself from glaring at the lord.
"Looks like you're having a good time, my prince," Aegon looked away from the gallery and saw Eddard approaching him with a wide grin on his face.
Aegon huffed. "You know that I am only in this position because you told me that being a squire would be more interesting than this."
Eddard did not look chastised; instead, his smile grew. "I also told you about how monotonous it could be, but you ignored me. But you shouldn't be too upset; we all must start off cleaning armor and fetching wine, even princes."
"I should take your tongue for this, you blasted cunt," Aegon muttered as he threw down the rag he had been using. "And where were you? You told me you were going to be here over an hour ago."
"I ran into Lord Lydden's squire, and two of us had gotten caught up talking about a hedge knight who'd been gutted outside Fairmarket by some townsfolk for stealing—seemed like the sort of story you'd enjoy."
Aegon snorted. "Well, you would be right about me enjoying that more than this. What is this squire's name?"
"Martyn Reyne."
Before Aegon could inquire further about this, he heard his brother's voice rising. "Watch where you are going!"
When he turned his head, Aegon saw that Aemond's training sword was now lying on the ground along with a bouquet of dead flowers. Aemond was standing in front of a tall, beautiful young woman with long, wavy black hair, pale skin, a pointed chin, hollow cheeks, and the brightest green eyes he had ever seen in his life.
She was dressed like a serving wench and was staring at Aemond with a quiet intensity, as if she was trying to peel back the layers of Aemond's flesh with just her eyes.
"Apologies, my prince," The woman finally said, her voice soft and melodic as she bowed to Aemond. "I did not see you standing there."
Aegon chuckled when he saw Aemond's cheeks turn red. Whether it was because of the woman's beauty or simply Aemond not wanting to be told that he was so small that she did not notice him, it was clear to Aegon that the woman's words had embarrassed him.
"J-Just watch where you walk," Aemond said flatly, bending down to retrieve his sword and the flowers.
He then shoved the dead plants into the woman's hands, glancing at her face before looking away, feeling uncomfortable by how intently she was looking at him.
"Don't mind my brother, my lady; he is not used to being in the presence of such beauty," Aegon said, smiling widely.
Eddard snorted under his breath while Aemond's face became even redder before glaring at his brother.
"I am no lady, my prince," The woman said, barely glancing at Aegon as she continued to stare at Aemond. "But I suppose I have been called many things in this place."
"Then can we have a name that encapsulates all those things?"
"My name is Alys Rivers, my prince, and I-"
"Was just leaving, yes?" Everyone turned and saw Lilyanna and Helaena standing nearby, the younger twin having been the one to speak and glaring at Alys.
A faint smile appeared on Alys' face, which only made Lilyanna's scowl deepen.
"You've already apologized; you can leave now, Rivers," Lilyanna said, not liking just how close she was standing to her younger brother.
"Of course, princess," Alys said, bowing before turning around and walking away, disappearing into the crowd.
"What was that about, and what are you doing here? Won't the vein in mother's forehead burst once she realizes you two are down here?" Aegon asked as he looked at Lilyanna and Helaena.
Lilyanna looked away from where Alys had last been seen and shrugged. "She's too busy trying not to kill Jason Lannister with her eyes to notice. Besides, Helaena was floundering so much that today is a waste for everyone involved."
"I wasn't floundering," Helaena muttered.
"You were floundering, and it was very sad. I don't think I've ever seen that many girls run away in terror than when that spider crawled out of your sleeve," Lilyanna said.
"I didn't do it on purpose; I forgot he was there," Helaena argued.
Aegon snickered. "Helaena, that does not make it any better."
Princess Helaena keeps spiders in her sleeves? Eddard thought, seeing that neither of Helaena's siblings looked surprised by the response.
"Are we just going to ignore what just happened?" Aemond asked, staring at Lilyanna, his face having finally returned to its normal color. "Aren't you the one who is always telling me that I must treat the commoners with respect and care? How you treated her was the opposite of all of that."
"I simply figured you did not wish for Aegon to continue trying to get her into your trousers," Lilyanna said blandly. "Excuse me for trying to save your virtue, baby brother."
Aemond scowled, crossing his arms. "Is that the excuse you are using?"
"Yes," Lilyanna then walked over to a nearby rack, meeting Criston's gaze from where he stood helping Daeron, smiling at him as she grabbed a training sword. "Now are you going to keep complaining, or are you going to spar with me?
"You're wearing a dress."
"Excuses, excuses, Aemond. It just sounds to me that you are afraid of how easily I'm going to kick your ass."
Aemond's jaw tightened at once, the challenge striking the exact nerve Lilyanna had intended. For a moment he said nothing, his violet eye narrowing as his restraint wrestled against the very real desire to prove her wrong in front of everyone watching.
"You are impossible," he muttered, but there was no true refusal in it.
Aegon immediately brightened up. "Oh, this is going to be entertaining."
But just as he did, suddenly a few dirty breastplates had been dropped in front of him, and he saw that Criston was now standing above him. "Prince Aegon, you are not finished."
Aegon exhaled sharply through his nose, already sensing where this was going. "I'm fairly certain I've scrubbed enough rust off your armor to forge a second suit by now."
Criston did not so much as blink, simply pointing toward the bucket. "Again."
I hate myself. Aegon thought going back to cleaning as Criston left his side and walked towards Aemond and Lilyanna, no doubt wanting to stop them before they began their spar.
"Father, you cannot truly believe that Jason Lannister has truly changed," Rhaenyra said the moment that the lord had finally walked away.
"I believe that Lord Jason feels remorse for what he has done, daughter," Viserys said.
Rhaenyra frowned. "Father-"
"Calm, Rhaenyra, I am not going to remove the tax I have placed on House Lannister; they have stolen from the Crown. I simply do not believe in continuing to be angry over the matter; a King who holds onto grudges invites division, and division is a far greater threat to the realm than wounded pride."
Rhaenyra held his gaze for a long moment, her expression tightening almost imperceptibly.
Viserys sighed, the sound heavy with the exhaustion that had settled into him increasingly as the progress wore on. "Rhaenyra, a ruler must also know when to let a matter rest. If every slight is met with iron, then all that follows is blood."
"I am not saying you should take his head," Rhaenyra said. "Only that you should not allow him and others like him to feel so comfortable. He should have allowed you to call for him today instead of coming to you, to us without warning; he should have sent word to the Strongs that he and his vassals would be coming to Harrenhal instead of feeling justified in not doing so. It is the blatant disrespect that troubles me, that men may take from the Crown, and suffer little for it so long as they throw some gold around and bow prettily after."
"And what would you have me do, Rhaenyra?" He asked. "Humiliate him before the court? Strip him of his lands? The matter was settled over two years ago; there is no need for that now."
"That is not what I am-"
"Your Grace," Larys Strong said as he bowed to Viserys, smiling at the others. "I was hoping to speak to you about-"
"Yes, of course, Lord Larys," Viserys said quickly, looking for any excuse to end the argument he and his eldest daughter were now having.
Rhaenyra rolled her eyes as her father and the Lord of Harrenhal walked away from her, Laenor and Alicent, casting a glance behind them, their shared frustration left unspoken but keenly felt.
Laenor pursed his lips. "He left quite quickly. I wonder what could have caused him to do that, especially whilst he is still in recovery?"
Rhaenyra sharply exhaled. "Laenor."
Alicent ignored the other two; her gaze lingered on Larys as he walked beside the King, his expression as mild and agreeable as ever.
Gods, I hate that expression. Alicent thought, knowing just how fake it is.
Eventually, Laenor looked between his wife and the Queen, noticing that once again the two were refusing to make eye contact with each other, pretending that the other was not there.
He had noticed that ever since they had returned from Dragonstone, Rhaenyra and Alicent's tentative friendship had become strained and awkward.
He had asked Rhaenyra a few times what had happened, but Rhaenyra refused to give him an answer, leaving Laenor to assume that it must have been something bad.
"You look like you could use a drink, lady wife," Laenor suddenly said. "You stay here and let me get you one."
"What?" Rhaenyra frowned, looking at him confused. "You do not need to-"
Laenor smiled, and Rhaenyra immediately knew that he was doing this on purpose, a sense of dread slowly creeping up her spine. "It is nothing at all; I find myself parched, and I would hate for my princess to suffer the same fate."
Laenor did not wait for another reply, already turning and disappearing into the crowd, leaving Rhaenyra alone with the one person she had been carefully avoiding.
I wonder how angry Rhaenys and Corlys would be if I fed their son to Syrax? Rhaenyra thought
For a moment, neither woman spoke, the noise of the hall swelling around them in the silence without truly reaching them.
"You should not press him so hard," Alicent said quietly, finally breaking the silence, her gaze still fixed ahead.
Rhaenyra frowned. "I did not press Laenor-"
Alicent shook her head. "I was not talking about Laenor; I meant your father. I do agree that the houses who stole from the Crown should have received more of a punishment, but your father is not as strong as he once was, and-"
"You are wearing black," Rhaenyra said, cutting off the Queen. "And you have also made the children wear black as well.
Alicent hesitated before responding. "It is a time of mourning and black is the color of it."
"Lyonel and Harwin's funeral was a time of mourning, and that has passed," Rhaenyra said, the words settling like a weight in her chest. "And yet you are still wearing it."
"It is one of the colors of the house of my husband and children."
"And yet you have been married to my father for over fifteen years and rarely wore either black or red during this time, not until now. Are you telling me that you and my siblings will now be wearing red and black exclusively? What has changed?"
Alicent's fingers stilled against the fabric of her gown, irritation passing through her eyes. "Why does it matter?"
"You know why, Alicent," Rhaenyra whispered. "You were the one who said that you were not sure if you could trust-"
"Despite what Viserys likes to think, he could have died in Rosby," Alicent said, her voice becoming tight. "And if he had, everything would have changed in an instant."
Rhaenyra went still, still uncomfortable with the notion of her father's mortality being discussed.
Alicent finally turned to look at her then; her expression was one of tired fear. "I could not stop myself from thinking about what... what would happen then. Aegon will be five and ten soon; he still needs me to remind him to wash his hair, and he's sleeping in the same room as the rest of his siblings because he believes this castle is haunted. And houses we have met in..."
The houses we have met in the Crownlands and most of here in the Riverlands seem so intent to follow you, loved you even before they knew you. If Viserys had died in Rosby, I do not doubt that Lord Jakor would have immediately declared for you and would have had my children and me arrested at even the smallest hint of us trying to crown Aegon. Alicent thought, unable to say this aloud.
Alicent had truly started to think about just how much of the realm would side with her son should Aegon push his claim, just how monstrous the fighting would become.
She had also thought about Daemon and the Velaryons, about what they would do in the chaos of Viserys' death. The Velaryons seemed fine with her and her children, and even if Daemon hated them, he was somewhat tempered by his wife, her family, and Rhaenyra herself.
But should war break out, all Alicent could think about was her children flying on their dragons to face off against the might of eight others, one of which included the mighty and terrifying Vhagar and the Velaryon fleet.
Her children were still babes, playing at strength and not truly understanding the world that she had been trying to carry them through.
"So now you have decided to prostrate yourself out of fear?" Rhaenyra asked.
"Is that not what you wanted? For me to-"
"I want you to trust that I will not kill my own siblings for a stupid fucking chair because I love them and not because you are pleading for my mercy and stroking my ego," Rhaenyra hissed, looking around for a moment to make sure no one was listening to their conversation. "Did you know that when we were on Dragonstone, Aegon begged me to believe him that he would not press his claim, that I had nothing to fear from him?"
Alicent's eyes widened, a flicker of something raw breaking through the composure she clung to so tightly.
"…He said that?" She asked finally; her voice was quieter than before.
Rhaenyra nodded once. "He did."
Alicent's hands tightened at her sides.
"What will you do when your father is Hand again?" Rhaenyra asked. "Will you pretend that this conversation never happened and go back to wearing green, and make my siblings do the same? There is nothing else I can give you but my word, Alicent."
"Did you mean what you said that night? Do... do you l-love..." Alicent could not bring herself to say it, could not bring herself to give credence to what existed between herself and the princess.
"I did, I do love you, Alicent, and I know you love me too; I can feel it, I always have. Even when we hated each other, I could still feel it, and I still loved you even when I wished that I did not."
Alicent could not stop the abrupt laugh that escaped her lips; Rhaenyra had always been the brave one out of the two of them, reckless enough to speak what was on her mind and unravel everything that those around wished to ignore.
The sound faded just as quickly as it arrived, and Alicent turned away from Rhaenyra, unable to keep looking at her.
"You say that so easily," Alicent murmured, though there was no real bite in it. "I want to believe you, Gods help me, I do. But wanting something does not make it so."
Rhaenyra turned her hand slightly, allowing their fingers to brush against each other. "I know, but I am going to keep trying; I think you underestimate how stubborn I can be when it comes to what I want."
Alicent rolled her eyes, fighting the smile that wanted to appear on her face. "I am well aware of it."
Rhaenyra smiled, and before she could say anything else, footsteps and voices began to draw closer around them, the world returning in full.
Alicent withdrew her hand as if she had been burned, straightening her posture, the mask of the Queen settling back into place piece by careful piece.
"Perhaps we should see what is keeping Ser Laenor," Alicent said, though her eyes lingered on Rhaenyra for a heartbeat longer than necessary.
Rhaenyra inclined her head, and Alicent could not read her expression. "Of course, Your Grace."
Alicent flinched almost imperceptibly at the use of that title but said nothing as they walked through the gallery.
She hated how Rhaenyra had taken to calling her everything but her name since they shared that kiss, but Alicent knew the distance between them was one of her own making. And she only hated herself even more as she knew that she was not brave enough to bridge the gap.
"Why did you get angry at that bastard who was speaking to Aegon and Aemond?" Helaena asked as she and her twin sister walked into the castle, leaving the function in the yard.
Lilyanna was a bit sweaty, and her dress slightly rumpled, but otherwise was composed enough that anyone passing them in the corridors would have assumed it had been nothing more than an unremarkable afternoon spent away from the court's scrutiny for her.
Lilyanna exhaled through her nose, her gaze fixed ahead. "In the other... future? She and Aemond knew each other. She's like a witch or something, and I don't know if she was controlling Aemond or if Aemond was actually in love with her, but the two of them worked together during the Dance."
"She's a witch? And she was Aemond's lover?" Helaena asked, her eyes widening.
Lilyanna explained everything she knew about Alys Rivers to her sister, both from the books and the TV show, drawing together a half-remembered account of witchcraft, prophecy, and the way Aemond's fate had become entangled with hers in the shadow of Harrenhal.
"Do you think she knows the truth? The way she was staring at Aemond and then you..."
"I don't know," Lilyanna admitted, assuming that her sister's words had trailed off naturally. "But I don't trust her, and I think it's best if we make sure that she stays as far away from Aemond as humanly possible. She might be able to see the future but I-"
"Lilyanna?" The girl in question paused when Helaena called out to her, and when she looked at her sister, she saw a confused and slightly scared expression on her face. "Where did you go? Lilyanna?"
"Helaena? What are you talking about? I'm right here," Lilyanna said, moving to stand in front of her twin.
She tried to reach out to her, but when she did, her hand passed through Helaena's shoulder, the other girl none the wiser to what Lilyanna had just done.
"What the fuck?!" Lilyanna shouted, jerking her hand back as if she had been burned, stumbling a step away from her sister.
Helaena did not react; she only blinked at the empty air where Lilyanna had been standing a moment before, her head tilting slightly as if trying to locate her. "Lilyanna?" She asked again, softer this time. "Are you still here?"
"Helaena, please, I'm right here!" Lilyanna shouted again, but Helaena had walked through her, her screams falling on deaf ears.
Lilyanna tried to follow Helaena but, in an instant, the polished stone beneath her feet darkened into soot-blackened ruin.
The air thickened with smoke, and the hallway was now almost completely covered in flames.
"Lilyanna!" The princess turned around and saw the Three Conquerors and the other ghosts now standing behind her.
"What the hell is going on?!" Lilyanna asked, feeling the smoke burning her lungs.
Visenya ignored her question, walking toward Lilyanna and wordlessly placing a hand on her shoulder. Unlike the other times they had tried to touch her, Visenya's hand did not phase through her; instead she could feel the elder Targaryen's hand on her body.
"Is... Is this a dream?" Lilyanna muttered. "But I was just talking to Helaena; how can I-"
"You do not belong here," Lilyanna heard the same voice of the burned spirit she had seen earlier that morning.
But when she turned around, it was not just the burned man standing at the other end of the corridor, but a large group of people, each just as burned and disfigured as the others around them, staring her and the Targaryen ghosts down.
"You do not belong here! Dragons do not belong here!" They all shouted, their voices overlapping with each other before rushing forward, descending upon them like a horrific hoard of the undead.