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THIRTEEN;
『 LETTERS AND WISHES 』

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ㅤ I HAVE BEEN WED FOR TWO DAYS NOW. I feel more alone than I ever have, despite the fact that I am now wed. My brother and Ser Harwin both are here now, but my parents are not. My parents and my other brother hide away in Dragonstone. The comfort of Aemond is lovely to have but not enough to keep my mind off of everything. The dreams I have are vivid, the talons of Alicent claw deeper, and the citizens of King's Landing and all surrounding areas grow more tense by the day.

       I cannot count the number of people who want my head on my spike. Every corner I turn around, I assume death. With every small council meeting I have, I fear that one of the high lords may threaten or question my position. That has not yet happened, though it very well good. I am wanted dead because of a position I am in that I had no control to deny. I have sent numerous ravens to Dragonstone, to my parents, but neither of them have returned words.

      Jacaerys is the only one who writes back. He tells me mother and father are tense. I have written asking if I need to prepare to fight, but he has dodged the question every time it has been asked. Either he does not know himself or he does not want me to know. Either way, King's Landing must prepare for a battle. Targaryen against Targaryen.

      My dreams come all too vivid. I have different branches of the same dream every night. Though, two things remain the same. Snow is always sticking to the ground and I always hear my mother and Viserys whispering the prophecy in my ear just moments before I jolt awake, fearful and unsure of where I am.

      Aemond, bless him, awakes every time I jerk awake. He does his best to calm me, though I just get out of bed and leave him to rest. I fear too much to sleep again. I fear of what I may dream. Today I am to address to city, as their Queen, with Aemond by my side. The people will be likely infuriated that Princess Rhaenyra does not sit on the throne, though they will come to their senses, remembering she is a woman, and cheer for Aemond.

      People will question me. They will ask if I am fit to be queen because I have succeeded instead of my mother. They will wonder if I am just as ambitious as she is or if I am a quiet woman with no brain. Most will believe I am a quiet woman, few will believe I have ambitions. The people will bow to Aemond and nod to me, but I have accepted it by this point. I cannot change the fact that I am a woman so it is something I must simply love with.

      Our footsteps clamber down the great hall. Aemond and I walk side by side, as a true King and Queen. The doors are opened and blinding light shines inside. I do not narrow my eyes or look away. I allow my the intense light to enter my vision. We step out onto the top of the steps. The common people stand below. Hundreds of thousands of them, all dressed in raggedy cloth with dirt on their faces and tired eyes. Guards and seven steps are the only things separating us from them. Given enough strength, they could push through and kill us both.

      Aemond extends his hands in greeting. "People of King's Landing," his voice could reach Winterfell. "As you know, King Viserys Targaryen has died." Murmurs of prayers erupt across the crowd. People hope and wish that he is safe where he lies now.

      "When one King falls, another must take his place," his words stop the voices of the commoners. "Though, a King was not named as his successor, instead, it was your Queen, Alerhya Targaryen who has inherited the Iron Throne." He tips his head in note that it is my turn to speak.

      "In the wake of King Viserys' death, my grandfather, it was brought to my attention that I was named his heir." This rises voices in the crowd. Confusion, shock, denial. I cannot imagine the things these people are saying.

      "Both King Aemond and I have had our coronations, they were to be done quickly, which is why nearly no one attended. The Iron Throne grows cold if there is not a King nor Queen to sit upon it. Aemond and I also wed, to ensure the safety of our lineage." My voice sounds almost too feminine compared to Aemond's, though my words do seem to stretch far out. People in the crowd look at one another in confusion, though none of them speak out. My heart thumps in my chest.

Aemond takes my hand and interlocks his fingers in mine, a sign of our love. He holds our hands to the sky. People in the crowd throw up their fists and shout with smiles on their faces. They are happy to have a King. I can understand why they are reluctant of my decision, especially as becoming the Queen without anyone having know.

The crowd is cheerful, a fortunate sign. Aemond and I are brought back through the enormous iron doors which shake the floor beneath us as they close. I pause for a moment and take in a long breath. My head is dipped and I stare at my shoes. Aemond's hand comes down gently on my back.

"You spoke like a true Queen." He tries to calm me. I have been so tense recently, I feel bad that I've snapped at him a few times. My thoughts are all jumbled and nothing seems to be going in my favor- other than our relationship.

"The people hate me." I say bitterly. I feel as though the world is crumbling under me. My parents are cold as stone, Jacaerys won't speak to me the truth, and now the subjects I'm supposed to rule over hate me. My life truly could not get any worse- unless a war insights.

"The people do not hate you," he says tenderly. He takes my chin with his hand, forcing me to look at him. "They just do not know you. You did not grow up here. It will take them a bit for their trust to be earned, but trust me, Alerhya, there isn't someone more fit to be in your position." He states. I blink heavily. His words impact me like a blade to the heart. I do hope that their trust will be earned in time.

"I believe Rhaenyra would have been better suited for this position. She's been preparing her entire life. I do not understand why my grandfather-" I stop mid-sentence. Now I'm the one questioning my own position. Aemond nods and takes a look around the empty hall. It is empty aside from a few servants traveling from one way or the other. They do not care of what I have to say. They are much more focused on their own tasks.

Aemond and I trek back to our chambers. The walk is long but needed. I am able to fix my thoughts as we shuffle through the hall. Once we enter, we take a seat at our desks, which have been positioned across from one another, and begin our afternoon writings.

He addresses his letter to some High Lord, asking about something or another. I address my letter, once again, to my mother. I have written to her every day twice a day. I know she receives my letters because King's Landing has the fastest ravens in Westeros, and yet she has not returned any word, nor sent any of my letters back in an act of severe coldness. She simply reads them and then tosses them aside, I presume.

Mother,

I know you get every letter of mine, but I wonder why you do not send word back. My allies at King's Landing are paper thin and your lack of parentship does not help. I had to become a Queen and a wife in a single day and yet you seem not to care. I seem to have offended you in some way. I do not know why you act bitter whenever this was never a fate I decided- It was decided for me, by Viserys. I pray to the Gods every day that you are safe and healthy, though sometimes I wonder if you do the same for me now, after everything has happened and you have turned your shoulder to me. It is my wish that all of this can be forgotten and that you can warm me like you once did. I do not know if I can be the best queen I might if I do not have my mother by my side to help me.

Your Daughter,
Alerhya

"Alerhya." Aemond says from across from me. My eyes snap up in his direction. "You are writing like you may never run out of words to say." He states. I place the pen and ink aside and fold up the letter. I then pour some of the wax onto the back and stamp it closed with the signature Targaryen label.

"It's to my mother." I say. He lets out a long, knowing breath. He has seen how tense I've become without my mother by my side.

"Though it is something I wish not to believe," he starts. "I'm afraid that Rhaenyra may be the opposing side that you see in your dreams." He claims. I believe it to be true as well. The other side always carries Targaryen shields and there is always a dragon in the sky. It is either a golden dragon or a red and black dragon- Syrax or Caraxes.

"There is nothing that scares me more than having to fight my own mother, my own flesh and blood." I say shakily. My voice is uneven, a reflection of my thoughts. Truly, there seems no worse sight than that; a Targaryen mother and a her Targaryen daughter battling it out for a piece of furniture spiked with swords that sits at the end of a few steps.

"A reoccurring dream is never just a dream," Aemond's voice grows tense. "It is a sign, an omen. If you dream the same dream ever night, some truth must become of it." He claims. I nod my head, though I do not know if I'm agreeing or just doing so because it may allow the conversation to end.

"My love," he says carefully. "I think it wise you send no more letters to her mother. If she cares, she will write to you, if she does not, then you will know where her heart lies." My eyes reach from him to the parchment before me. I've already waxed it, it is ready to be sent off by a single flick of my finger to call someone to get me a raven.

My eyes swipe to the fireplace beside our desks. I snatch the paper from before me and toss it in the fire. The paper burns quickly and easily. It turns to ashes before I could even think to take it from the fire. I get up and approach the bookshelf, where I pick up the book I've been consuming for the past few days. I sit across the sofa near Aemond, who works carefully with his important writing.

I dive into the world as it had been four hundred years ago. This story is nothing but a fantasy tale; there are women of fire, men of wolf, and lions made of gold. It is an interesting book, even so. My eyes ripple through the words, taking in every one of them like I could not be stopped. The day turns dimmer and dimmer with every page that is turned. Finally, Aemond has sent off his last raven. He comes up behind me and closes the book in my hands. I hadn't even marked my page. He takes it from my hands as I grab at the air for it.

"Give it back!" I say. He darts across the room, taunting me with it as he holds it above his head. I try and jump for it, though the attempt is useless. He weaves around me and runs to the other side of the chamber, holding the book above his head again.

"I'm warning you," I say with a playful grin.

"I'm not afraid of you." He taunts back. I reach for the book again, but my attempt is unsuccessful another time. I raise my knee up and kick him between the legs. The heavy book falls to the ground with a thud. I pick it up with a devilish grin and turn to face him as he slinks against the bookshelf, a hand pressed against the point of target.

"You play dirty." He says with a grunt of pain. I shrug and slide the book back onto the shelf with all of the other ancient stories collecting dust.

"I did give you a warning." I reply. He comes up beside me and grabs me, engulfing me in a tight hug. He spins me around the room in his arms then places me back on the floor. He takes a few steps back then extends his hand to me, palm up.

I raise an eyebrow. "Why are you offering me a dance?" I ask.

"We never got to dance at our wedding." He replies with a flash of a grin.

I take his hand without a second thought. He spins me to him then places his other hand on my hip. I stretch my hand across to his shoulder. We turn around the room in a perfect synchrony. Our footsteps are never off beat from one another's. He steps back then pulls me closer to him in one quick motion. I twist into his grasp and he dips me toward the ground. My eyes do not leave him.

We continue the dance again, in a circle around once spot. He twists, turns and dips me again and again. Before long we're both sweating and out of breath. I have this sheepish grin on my face that refuses to disappear no matter how hard I try.

"Have you become stuck?" He tilts his head to the side with a cocky smirk. I roll my eyes and extend my hand, going to pushing his shoulder. He grabs my hand before I can do so, although I was only an inch away. He makes a clicking sound with his tongue.

"Naughty naughty," he says. "I can't believe you're threatening a King." He pretends to be shocked. I grab his hand on mine and press my fingers around his. He grumbles and releases his grip, and I release mine.

"How's that for a threat?" I cock my head to the side in a rather threatening manor. He licks his lips quickly then sighs.

"Rather-" he's cut off my the sudden bursting of our chamber doors. A flood of light from the hallway spills into our dimly lit room. Both of our heads turn immediately to spot the intruder.

Ser Harwin stands with a letter in his hand. "Forgive me my Lords for the intrusion," he catches his breath. "A raven from Dragonstone has arrived." I exchange a glance with Aemond before striding across the room quicker than I thought humanly possible. I take the letter and dismiss Ser Harwin with a polite nod. He bows then leaves our chamber, shutting the doors behind him.

I strode back to Aemond and he takes a candle that had been on the desk. I unroll the parchment and begin to scan the word scribbled in cursive lettering.

Alerhya,

My letters have been avoiding the question of mother because she has been watching me night and day. I can write these words now because she has turned her eye away for a moment. She and father speak of a war, a battle for the throne. She has been a mess ever since the coronation. She has deemed herself the rightful heir, and of course, father is in complete agree. She has been making deals with High Lords with armies. She is giving not only coin, but also my hand. She has arranged for me to marry Baela Targaryen so that Dragonstone may have total control of High Tide's fleet. I do not know the extend of battle our parents plan or when or whom they intend to strike. Therefore, my sister, I stress that you get your affairs in order and you are prepared to fight back. I do not know if our mother will have the heart to propose a war against her own daughter. But, as you know, the Iron Throne sinks it's ambition into any of those surrounding it. Our mother has been possessed by this ambition and I fear as though nothing can stop her.

      Your Brother,
      Jacaerys

       The paper falls from my hand as I stagger back to the chair beside my desk. Every thought in my mind has run blank and suddenly oxygen does not seem in reach. Aemond comes to my side in an instant and helps me to my feet. He takes my hand and waits patiently as I catch my breath.

      "How many men do we have?" I ask shakily.

      Aemond eye meets my gaze. He can tell immediately why I pose the question. "Nearly fifteen thousand." He replies in a quick sentence.

      "We will need every last one of them..." I turn to face the balcony. Night hangs in the air. "A Great War may be upon us." I say, turning over my shoulder to look at him.

      He shares the same expression of horror.

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