Another few weeks* Rhaenys thought bitterly. *That was before Brandon Stark decided to march into the throne room and call for Father's head. Before Aerys decided to turn a political crisis into a personal vendetta. Before everything went completely to hell.*
"Rhaenys, love," Elia called softly. "Come here, sweetling. Your uncle has brought news." Reluctantly, Rhaenys disentangled herself from Balerion's substantial bulk and padded across the chamber to her mother's side. Crookshanks followed, his tail held high with feline dignity.
"What news, Uncle Lewyn?" she asked, settling onto the carpet beside Elia's chair. Her voice was carefully modulated-the precise diction of a princess, with no hint of the frustration and fear that churned beneath the surface.
Lewyn crouched down to her level, his weathered face kind despite the worry in his eyes. "Your grandmother Rhaella and Prince Viserys have safely reached Dragonstone," he said gently. "They send their love and hope to see you soon."
Safe* Rhaenys thought with relief. *At least someone managed to escape this madhouse. Though how long Dragonstone will remain safe is another question entirely.*
"When can we go see them?" she asked, though she suspected she already knew the answer.
Uncle Lewyn's face tightened almost imperceptibly. "The king feels it's best if you remain here for now, princess. Where you're... protected."
Protected. Right. The same way prisoners are protected by their cells.*
"I see," Rhaenys said politely. "And Father? When will he return from... his travels?"
The adults exchanged a look over her head-one of those loaded glances that said far more than words ever could.
"Your father is attending to important matters in Dorne," Elia said carefully. "He'll return when his duty is complete."
His duty* Rhaenys thought. *You mean when he's finished trying to fulfill that bloody prophecy about the Prince That Was Promised. When he's done risking everything-including his family-chasing shadows and ancient predictions.*
She loved her father, truly she did. But Rhaegar's obsession with prophecy and destiny had put them all in an impossible position. His conviction that his child with Lyanna would be the prophesied prince had led him to take increasingly desperate risks.
And now Brandon and Rickard Stark are dead because of it* she thought with a mixture of grief and fury. *Good men, dead because Father couldn't find a way to protect Lyanna without making it look like kidnapping. Because he was so focused on destiny that he forgot about politics.*
A sudden, sharp sensation cut through her brooding thoughts—a pull, deep in her chest, like a fish hook yanked by an invisible line. Magic recognized magic, and this particular resonance was as familiar to her as her own heartbeat.
Harry.*
The realization hit her like a lightning bolt. Somewhere in this world, at this very moment, the soul she'd loved across lifetimes had just drawn its first breath in a new body. The connection between them, forged across death and time, sang in her blood like a bell tolling.
He's here. He's actually here. Death kept her promise.*
The knowledge was simultaneously thrilling and terrifying. Harry was alive, somewhere in this increasingly dangerous world, probably as confused and disoriented as she'd been when she'd first awakened in Princess Rhaenys's body. But he was also completely vulnerable-an infant in a realm about to be consumed by war.
Where?* she wondered desperately. *Where are you, love? Please let it be somewhere safe.
Please let it be somewhere far from all this madness.*
"Rhaenys?" Elia's voice seemed to come from very far away. "Sweetling, are you quite alright?
You've gone very pale."
Rhaenys blinked, forcing herself back to the present moment. "I'm fine, Mother. Just... just thinking about Father."
It wasn't entirely a lie. She was thinking about family-just not the one they assumed.
"He'll come home," Elia said softly, reaching down to stroke Rhaenys's silver-gold hair. "When this is all over, we'll be together again. All of us. I promise."
I hope so* Rhaenys thought. *Though I suspect 'all of us' might include more people than you'r expecting.*
Uncle Lewyn rose to his feet, his white cloak rustling with the movement. "I should return to my duties," he said reluctantly. "But I'll visit again tomorrow, if I can manage it."
"Be careful," Elia said quietly. "The king grows more unpredictable by the day. Don't give him reason to question your loyalty."
"My loyalty has never been in question," Lewyn replied, though his voice carried a bitter edge.
"It's my ability to protect my family while serving a madman that I struggle with."
After her uncle left, Elia settled back in her chair with a weary sigh, adjusting baby Agon's position so he could nurse more comfortably. The chamber fell into a peaceful quiet, broken only by the soft sounds of the baby feeding and Balerion's continued purring.
Rhaenys returned to her spot on the carpet, but her mind was racing. Harry was somewhere in this world, probably scared and confused, with no idea what he'd been born into. The thought of him facing this dangerous new reality alone made her chest tight with anxiety.
I have to find a way out of here* she thought with sudden determination. *Not just for our family's sake, but for his. The connection between us is strong, but it's also dangerous. If anyone with magical knowledge realizes what we are, what we represent...* She didn't finish the thought. The implications were too terrifying to contemplate fully.
Crookshanks padded over to her, fixing her with those unnaturally intelligent amber eyes. For a moment, she could have sworn she saw understanding there-recognition, even.
"You know, don't you?" she whispered to the cat. "You know there's more to this world than most people realize."
The tabby's only response was to settle himself beside her, his warm presence oddly comforting.
Whatever happens* Rhaenys thought, absently scratching Crookshanks behind the ears, *I won't let them hurt him. I won't let this world crush him the way it's trying to crush all of us. We survived Voldemort, we survived death itself-we can survive this too. *
The pull in her chest continued, a constant reminder that somewhere in the Seven Kingdoms, her soulmate had just begun another lifetime. The thought both thrilled and terrified her in equal measure.
Hold on, Harry* she thought desperately. *Wherever you are, whatever name they've given you, just hold on. I'm coming. Somehow, some way, I'm going to find you.*
Outside the narrow windows of the Maidenvault, King's Landing sprawled beneath a sky heavy with approaching storm clouds. In the distance, thunder rumbled-whether from the weather or the drums of approaching war, only time would tell.
But in the converted prison that housed the Dragon Prince's family, a two-year-old girl with ancient eyes held secrets that could reshape the world, while her infant brother slept in their mother's arms, unaware that his sister was already planning their escape.
The Game of Thrones had begun in earnest, and the players were taking their positions on the board. But this time, the game included pieces that the other players couldn't even see-ancient souls in young bodies, magic that defied understanding, and a love that had already conquered death once before.
Let them play their game* Rhaenys thought with grim determination. *They have no idea what they're really dealing with.*