Of Schemes and Kisses

Robb waited outside the grand library, gazing up at a depiction of Aerys and Rhaella Targaryen. It was crafted on a tan canvas, though Robb could not tell if the colour was intentional or simply a sign of ageing, and the former king and queen had been elegantly etched in charcoal. Though their lips were parted in toothy grins, Rhaella’s eyes appeared to reveal sorrow. Robb stepped closer to her, trying to decipher the art.

“She was beautiful, wasn’t she?” Daenerys asked as she approached Robb. He immediately withdrew from the painting, stunned into silence for a moment before he regained his composure and smiled.

“Yes, Your Highness, I wish I could have met her,” Robb replied in attempt to be polite.

“As do I,” Daenerys said with a short exhale and Robb felt a pang of regret. He had momentarily forgotten the lessons from his maester that had informed him that Rhaella had died whilst giving birth to Daenerys.

“I- I apologise, I did not mean to-”

“It’s quite all right,” she disregarded the issue with a wave of her hand. “Viserys and Rhaegar both say that I am beginning to look like her. I am honoured to be compared to her in that way.” She smiled up at Robb, slowly repositioning herself so that her chest was pushed forwards and her hips jutted to one side in attempt to draw attention to her features.

“It is an admirable compliment,” he agreed, his eyes remaining on her face. “Do your brothers resemble your father?” Daenerys’ attempt to allure Robb was halted and she stiffened as she attempted to comprehend the meaning behind his question.

“In which way?” she said to clarify, her tone revealing that he had offended her.

“In appearance, of course,” Robb answered with a frown while puzzling over what he had done to make the princess bitter.

“They both have his features in their own way.”

“I wonder if Aegon resembles him more. I know he is still young, but this illustration reminds me of him,” Robb said as he turned back to the canvas, no longer wanting to look at the now sour princess.

“Perhaps,” she shrugged, noting that she had lost his interest. “The madness skips a generation, you know. My brothers and I are fine; it is Rhaenys and Aegon you will have to be careful with.”

“I beg your pardon, Your Highness?”

“The Targaryen madness. I know you were asking about that moments ago, not their physical resemblance. And I am letting you know that it skips a generation,” Daenerys explained and Robb’s forehead creased, upset that he was being falsely accused. Unable to think of an appropriate response, whether it was best to apologise or defend himself, he fell silent.

“I apologise for keeping you waiting, Robb,” a voice boomed down the hallway and Robb spun on his heel, actually grateful to see the king striding down the hallway to begin his lessons.

“It is no problem, Your Grace,” he replied with a bow of his head. Rhaegar then turned to Daenerys, noticing her scowl and troubled eyes.

“If you will excuse us, sister, we have important work to do,” he said as he placed a hand on the door.

“Of course. I will see you later,” she addressed them both, excusing herself and walking down the hallway with her Kingsguard trailing behind. The two men entered the library, Robb following the king until he found the section of books he needed and they took a seat.

“What was she talking to you about?” Rhaegar wondered as he opened a thick book, eyes scanning the page. Robb hesitated, but then realised that he had no reason to lie.

“She was telling me that the Targaryen madness skips a generation…” he answered, lacking the confidence to speak the words louder. Rhaegar snorted a short chuckle as he lifted his eyes.

“She’s lying,” he stated. “The saying ‘when a Targaryen is born, the gods flip a coin’ is more accurate. Rest assured, I and my children appear to be fine. That is partly why I insisted on wedding a non-Targaryen, and that Viserys did as well; I did not wish to burden this world with more people who would disgrace the Targaryen name.”

“Do you feel as though, for example, your father has disgraced your family’s name?” Robb asked, feeling comfortable enough to pry further because Rhaegar had initiated the conversation.

“Anyone who has the title of the Mad King has brought plenty of shame to his name,” Rhaegar responded with a frown. “He raped his sister, was obsessed with killing, and was so mad that he had to be slain by his own Kingsguard. I cannot think of worse ways to dishonour one’s name than those.” Robb attempted to hold Rhaegar’s saddened yet strong stare but failed and dropped his gaze to the oak desk.

“It is a tragic story,” he eventually muttered.

“And I pray every day that my story will not follow his.”


“How often do you do this?” Jon wondered as he walked at Rhaenys’ side through the market. The upper class men and women of King’s Landing were browsing the stalls alongside the princess, searching for a fairly priced ornament or two to return home with or gift to friends.

“Once a month, perhaps,” she replied while glancing to her left, briefly inspecting a stall of delicately crafted wooden figurines before continuing on. “I am able to forget that I am a princess for a short while. I only recall my status when I beckon for a Kingsguard to bring me my pouch of coins.” Rhaenys laughed and Jon only allowed an acknowledging smile, not wanting to appear unprofessional to the Kingsguard behind them or any other prying eyes that were no doubt watching. They wandered closer to a booth that displayed a brilliant collection of brooches and Rhaenys became mesmerised by the small jewels sparkling in the sun.

“Your Highness, what an honour it is,” the man behind the counter said with a bow. “Perhaps I could interest you in this dragon brooch I acquired just yesterday? Newly crafted and of good quality, I assure you!” Rhaenys looked away from the orange rose and to the silver dragon that the man was cradling in his palm. The craftsmanship was extraordinary, including plenty of details to give the dragon the illusion of scales, and a tiny amethyst gemstone provided the dragon’s eye.

“It is well forged. My brother would like it,” Rhaenys said, not wanting the item for herself. “Do you have anything else? Perhaps inspired by Dorne?” She was scanning the brooches but could not spot anything that she liked enough to purchase.

“I do, yes…” the trader muttered as his eyes darted across the board in search of what he knew he possessed. “Ah, here! This is such a beautiful item but no one has bought it yet!” He shifted a brooch to rest before Rhaenys and her lips curled upwards. It was a slender golden spear, shaped similar to her own, and along the shaft it had minute details carved into it with immaculate precision and repetition.

“I will take the dragon and the spear,” she declared and the man nodded, taking the two items and proceeding to package them for transport. The Kingsguard overheard Rhaenys and stepped forwards, offering to her the sack of coins. Once the exchange was made, they continued through the market until they arrived at a fruit stall that Rhaenys made a point to visit every time she ventured out to the market.

“Your Highness, would you like your usual fruit?” the vendor asked and Rhaenys nodded.

“Yes, but two please,” she replied and the man obliged, pulling out two oblong yellow fruits with spikes covering their skin. Rhaenys paid and then held one out to Jon.

“Is it going to bite?” he asked and she giggled.

“No, of course not!”

“What is it?” Jon wondered with a bewildered look across his face.

“It is a fruit from Essos. I cannot pronounce the name properly, so I won’t try to say it,” she explained before taking the blunt blade from the merchant’s stall and slicing her fruit in half. Jon’s eyes widened when he saw a bright green mesh of seeds beneath the prickly yellow skin.

“That is incredible…” he muttered before accepting the blade and splitting his fruit open too.

“Taste it,” Rhaenys encouraged before taking a rather ungraceful bite out of her own piece. “I love the sweetness so much I always buy one to end my day at the market. I first tasted it in Dorne, when my uncle gave me one. He found them when he visited Essos and he frequently ships them to Sunspear.” Jon smiled, listening intently as she shared her story, but his eyes suddenly darted to his left. A man dressed darkly was emerging from the crowd, his black eyes focused on Rhaenys. Jon dropped the fruit and drew his sword, a nearby woman screaming at the motion, and Rhaenys gasped. Jon instinctively put himself in between the attacker and Rhaenys, surprised to find the assailant presenting a sword instead of a inconspicuous knife, and they engaged in combat. The Kingsguard grabbed Rhaenys’ arm and pulled her behind the fruit stall for some cover, withdrawing his own sword and looking over his shoulders for any other assailants but found none. Jon blocked a high attack and used the momentum to force his opponent’s sword down, flinging it onto the ground. He pointed his sword forwards, the tip slowly pressing against the man’s throat, and the assailant raised his hands in defeat.

“Keep him alive! He will be brought before the king!” the Kingsguard shouted at Jon before he made a mistake, and Jon responded by roughly taking the man’s hands behind his back and picking up the discarded sword. The City Watch soon arrived, aiding in calming the spectators and ushering Rhaenys to the safety of the Red Keep. Rhaegar and Elia met their daughter in the throne room, Elia running out to embrace her while Rhaegar held back his affection in front of Robb, who was awkwardly trailing behind him.

“Oh my love, are you injured?” Elia asked as she clutched onto her daughter.

“No, but you will squeeze me to death if you are not careful…” Rhaenys muttered and Elia broke away.

“What happened?” Rhaegar demanded and the Kingsguard stepped forwards.

“Your Grace, a man attempted to attack the princess at the market. Her guard stopped him before he came too close,” he answered and Robb grinned, glad to hear that his brother had done a good deed that perhaps even Catelyn could not ignore.

“Is he alive?” Rhaegar asked while his eyes flicked over Rhaenys, observing that she was unharmed.

“Yes, Your Grace,” the Kingsguard said with a gesture behind him to the commander of the City Watch who stood behind the shackled prisoner.

“You know where to take him. I only need to know who gave him the order,” Rhaegar instructed and the commander bowed his head before leaving with his men and the attacker.

“Father, if I may,” Rhaenys began and she received a nod. “Jon saved my life. He recognised the threat well before it was close. He should be rewarded, perhaps even with knighthood for performing such an honourable task.” Rhaegar did not take long to consider the proposal, realising that it would only encourage the young man to continue to protect his daughter as well as winning more favour from the Starks, so he turned to Robb.

“In the North you do not take knighthood, is that correct?” he asked and Robb quickly straightened his posture.

“No, Your Grace. Only occasionally a Northerner will accept the knighthood if the knighting lord worships the Seven,” he replied, hoping that his words and different religion would not offend the king.

“Very well. Rhaenys, I have heard your request and will consider it, after consulting Jon and Eddard over the matter. Now, go to your chambers and rest while I speak with your two protectors,” Rhaegar commanded, dismissing Rhaenys from the conversation. Though she did not like being brushed aside, Rhaenys obeyed and was relieved at the thought of having some time to herself to mull over the event. As she walked towards the exit alone, Rhaegar faced Robb.

“Your Grace?” Robb said with caution when the king failed to address him, still pondering his next move.

“Go with her,” he instructed after a pause and Robb nodded, hurrying after the princess with his assigned Kingsguard. As they walked, her silence told Robb that she wished to not talk yet, but once the Kingsguard was posted at her closed door, Rhaenys let out an exhale.

“How are you?” Robb asked, lingering near the door as he watched Rhaenys take a seat on the edge of her bed.

“I…” she began, immediately trailing off as she tried to find the correct words to describe her state. “I will be fine. I am unsettled, of course, but this is not the first time an attempt on my life has been made and nor will it be the last.” Robb’s brow creased and he took a few steps forward.

“Assassins have come for you before?” he clarified and Rhaenys looked up from her lap.

“Of course. I am a princess, a Targaryen, there are plenty of people who wish me dead.”

“Well thankfully none of them have succeeded,” Robb remarked.

“It was all thanks to your brother. We were in the middle of a conversation and yet he noticed the armed man before he came too close. He would do well in the Kingsguard, you know,” Rhaenys said but Robb shook his head straight away.

“He would never.”

“Why not?” she questioned. Jon had struck her as a classically honourable man who would jump at the chance to play such an important role for the kingdom.

“Well, I could not say for certain, but I think there would have to be something better for him than the Kingsguard to make him leave behind his home and his family. Those oaths would bind him for life, and I do not believe that Jon would wish to live here for the rest of his life,” Robb explained.

“The oath was not for Jaime Lannister’s life,” Rhaenys pointed out, attempting to shift the conversation away from the concept of Jon leaving King’s Landing.

“It was a fair outcome, I think,” Robb said as he shifted weight between his feet.

“Sit with me and explain,” Rhaenys offered and Robb obliged. Once he was sitting next to her, at a distance he hoped was respectable but not too far that it implied he did not desire to be close to her, he inhaled deeply before carrying on.

“It should be one of the worst crimes to murder the king, or any of his family, especially when they are great leaders. But when the realm is in genuine accordance that the king is mad… Someone has to do the task, do they not? Jaime saved the city, and your father made the correct choice to only end his duty to the realm and not take his life too,” Robb justified. His views differed from his father’s, but he truly felt as though Jaime had no other option.

“I am glad that we share that opinion. Some still hold anger against my father for it, but I understand why he came to that conclusion,” Rhaenys said with a hint of relief. “I do not know if I could ever handle having such weight on my shoulders.”

“You mean if you were queen?”

“Yes.”

“I would lift any and all weight from you,” Robb offered and a grin crossed her lips.

“That is kind of you,” Rhaenys commented.

“Only my duty as your husband,” Robb replied and then his words sunk in. His cheeks flushed and his eyes enlarged. “I mean, when we are wed, that will be my duty.” He stumbled over his words and Rhaenys giggled, finding his reaction cute.

“I understand,” she said before reaching across and resting her hand atop his. “I thank you in advance.” Robb smiled and upturned his hand to allow their fingers to intertwine.


Talking with Robb had calmed her nerves considerably, but Rhaenys still wished to have an early night to sleep away her stress. Shortly after she had summoned Audrei to her chambers, there was a second knock and Audrei answered it to reveal Jon, finally finished discussing the attack with Rhaegar.

“I thought you may wish to speak with me,” Jon said with a touch of hopefulness that Rhaenys picked up on. She nodded at him and then turned to Audrei.

“Go and prepare for changing into my nightgown,” she instructed.

“At once, Your Highness,” Audrei replied, giving a quick curtsey before disappearing behind the dressing screen to give them a form of privacy.

“I am aware that you may not wish to accept my gratitude because it is simply your job to protect me, but I would still like to say thank you for what you did today,” Rhaenys said, her soft voice and expression revealing her honesty. A modest smile crossed Jon’s lips.

“I am just glad that you are safe,” he said and she nodded, holding his gaze for a moment before turning and walking to her bedside table. She retrieved the spear brooch she had purchased earlier and offered it to Jon once she stood before him again. “I could not…”

“You saved my life. I am in your debt,” Rhaenys attempted to convince him.

“No, you are not.”

“I will not rest until you accept my gift,” she continued but Jon made no move to take the pin from her outstretched hand. Rhaenys took a step forwards, putting them at what would be an uncomfortably close distance had there not been such a bond between them, and took his hand in hers. She pressed the brooch into his palm and then closed his fingers around it, surprised to find that Jon did not resist. “Thank you. You can go and stand watch now; I must prepare for bed.” Rhaenys gave him one last kind smile and then walked towards her dressing screen where Audrei was smoothing out her nightgown.

“I will have to leave this behind. You bought it for yourself; I will not deprive you of a beautiful item that I cannot wear,” Jon said, determined to not have something of such high value. She paused and looked over her shoulder.

“But I did not buy it for myself,” Rhaenys replied genuinely. She disappeared behind the screen and Jon left the room, running his fingers over the precious metal and wondering if he should place it by his bedside or keep the gift with him in his pocket.