SEVEN —— HOW DO I LOOK AWAY NOW THAT I HAVE SEEN YOU?

105 AC, KING'S LANDING.

Morrigan would like to point out that she's painfully aware that if Prince Daemon ever found out about this, Caraxes would receive a nice, little snack by way of her charred corpse— or raw, if he so prefers— she knows this would be perceived by any outsider as spying. And, maybe, strictly it is.

But Morrigan cannot shake the feeling of unease itching her senses ever since they'd been at the Sept and so, she's here, listening to the small council meetings and watching Otto Hightower in secret in the hopes of proving her own instincts wrong without even really knowing what they are telling her.

She's not here to uncover any secret happenings in the court and politics— but it's a necessary evil.

Morrigan's dark eyebrows draw together in a frown as she leans forward to the tiny holes in the wall, listening to the strange language of the dragon keeper. To her, hearing the familiar vowels and sounds, feels like a long-buried ghost.

Here's the thing: Morrigan's High Valyrian is... just enough to do what it needs to.

Like her father, she'd been taught by her grandfather— who, in turn, had been taught by Alyssa Velaryon just like any of her children. Morrigan can understand the language just fine, she thinks. But, after being taught by a stormlander who'd been taught by a stormlander who had not had anyone to speak the language being kept alive only by a handful of families... she's learned since she knows Rhaenyra that she's not particularly good at it.

There's a stilt to Morrigan's dialect— drenched in the accent of her harsh homeland— and anyone can recognise she is a stormlander by it, she thinks. It lacks any of the melodic cadence of Rhaenyra's vowels and words— Rhaenyra, who has been taught the language by her own family speaks it like a poem. Morrigan speaks it like a battlefield.

But, she figures as she stands in the tiny, dark hidden hall next to the small council's chamber— at least she speaks it.

Otherwise, she'd have come to this particular meeting and would've had trouble keeping up— which she is having anyway because the King, unlike the dragon keeper, is talking too fast for her ears that are so estranged with the use of Valyrian after all this time, but that's neither here nor there.

"It happened in the darkness of the night, my lords, during the hour of the bat," the dragon keeper explains just as Rhaenyra enters the chamber and Morrigan resists the urge to pinch the bridge of her nose as a tension headache begins to set in from translating the words. "The thief escaped our pursuers."

"How can a dragon egg watched by more than fifty dragon keepers be stolen?" King Viserys replies, a frown on his face.

"Prince Daemon was the culprit, Your Grace."

Morrigan jolts a little, eyes widening.

The king stares at him. "Daemon?" He echoes quietly.

Otto Hightower looks up to the king. "The Prince left a missive, which I believe might explain." He announces, and looks at Maester Mellos with a nod before the Maester unfolds the parchment and begins to slowly read the words out loud.

"It is the pleasure of Daemon Targaryen, the Prince of Dragonstone and rightful heir to the Iron Throne, to announce that he is to take a second wife in the tradition of Old Valyria. She is to assume the title Lady Mysaria of Dragonstone. Her Grace is with child and is to have a dragon's egg placed in the babe's cradle in the custom of House Targaryen."

Morrigan stares at the Maester, watching unmoving as he slowly lowers the letter and looks at the king. "The Prince has invited you to his wedding, Your Grace. It is in two days' time."

"Gods be good." Lord Lyman mutters before he raises his goblet to take a drink from the wine.

"Who is Lady Mysaria?" Lord Corlys asks slowly.

"We believe—"

"Daemon's whore." The King's Hand cuts off Maester Mellos, staring at them all before he turns to the king. "This is nothing less than sedition."

"I strongly agree, sire," Lord Lyonel says quickly, looking at the king.

"My brother wishes to provoke me. To answer is to give him what he wants," King Viserys points out.

"The realm is watching, Your Grace," Lord Corlys replies, watching the king.

King Viserys stares back at him, frowning again. "What would you have me do? Send him to the Wall? Perhaps I could put his head on a spike?"

"Daemon has seized Dragonstone, has surrounded himself with an army of gold cloaks and has now stolen a dangerous weapon—" Otto Hightower begins before Rhaenyra cuts him off.

The table of lords turns to her, but the princess's whole attention is on the dragon keeper. "Which egg did Daemon steal?"

The dragon keeper's chin lowers a little. "It was Dreamfyre's egg, princess. The one you chose for the cradle of Prince Baelon."

Morrigan turns and leaves.

———————

There's a soft, disapproving sort of frown on Ser Rodrik Fell's face as they're taking their dinner together that night that Morrigan isn't entirely show how it's gotten there— but, she is speaking from years of experience when she says it's likely because of her. She's just not quite figured out what she's done this time to cause it.

Only, tonight, Morrigan doesn't have the nerves to figure it out— she's too busy imagining what it might be like to have easy access to both, her great-grandmother's gardens and certain chambers in the castle of Dragonstone...— and so they're sitting in silence as they eat.

Simmering in her rage, Morrigan is gripping the cutlery too tight, cuts her meat to with too strong motions— she knows that— but she doesn't much notice it, anyways. Not that it much matters how delicately or not she handles her meal— it tastes like ash anyway tonight. Not even the fact that her most favorite dessert is served tonight changes any of it— it's the first time in all her life that the taste of the strawberries causes nausea.

Morrigan is almost finished with her piece of the strawberry pie when Ser Rodrik leans back, clearing his throat a little awkwardly. "I heard the Tully lad made himself well this week," he announces and Morrigan looks up, slowly lowering her hands to the table.

"I heard the same," she replies and it's true— although she's mostly aware of this because she's been spying on the small council meetings the past week. Otherwise she'd have heard of it— likely though the whispers of servants— but she wouldn't actually know that Ser Edmyn Tully, younger brother and heir of the current Lord of Riverrun and newly-instated second in command of the City Watch, had done a remarkably stellar job during his first week in office.

Especially considering half his force was holed up on Dragonstone with their actual commander.

Morrigan's blood runs so hot, she feels a blush creeping up her neck at the mere thought of him. Her hands grab the silver cutlery tighter.

"The Hand also mentioned that his eldest son is set to return to court within—"

There's a knock at the door that cuts Ser Rodrik off and the two straighten, heads going to the door just as it opens. Morrigan's eyebrows draw up in surprise, momentarily distracting her from the anger simmering in her chest, when she sees Rhaenyra step inside, the door closing behind her.

At the other end of the table, Ser Rodrik's chair screeches quietly as he stands up, bowing deeply. "Princess, we were not expecting you."

Slowly, Morrigan rises from her seat and curtseys. "We were not," she agrees.

Rhaenyra looks between them. "Stay seated— please," she says quickly, motioning with her hands and, exchanging a look, Morrigan lowers herself back into her chair as the knight pulls up another at her side for the princess. Rhaenyra gives him a small smile. "Thank you, Ser Rodrik."

"Of course, princess," he replies, bowing again.

For a moment, Morrigan wonders if she should be insulted he doesn't bow to her— the heir of his Lord— that often.

The quick glance Rhaenyra sends Ser Rodrik lets that thought die a quick death and she waves one hand in the air. "You can talk with Ser Rodrik present— he won't divulge any secrets your share with me. You can trust him with anything," she tells Rhaenyra, because, for as long as her memory goes back, Ser Rodrik Fell put his loyalty to her bloodline before anything else in this world.

The disapproving look Ser Rodrik gives her at the words reminds her that it's just for her family.

She can almost hear him say it— you should not divulge in promises if you cannot guarantee them to not be broken. As far as Morrigan is concerned, loyalty to her is loyalty to Rhaenyra.

Even if Ser Rodrik views the matter differently.

Rhaenyra takes in a breath before she nods, turning back to Morrigan. "I need your help." She announces and reaches out to take Morrigan's hands in hers.

Morrigan's head tilts a little. "Alright." She says slowly. "With what?"

Rhaenyra's jaw tenses a little and she doesn't speak for a moment, before, eventually, "Daemon stole my brother's egg from the Dragonpit."

It's all it takes— just one sentence— and Morrigan's all-consuming rage comes back with such force, it nearly chokes her.

"Alright," she says again, making sure to keep her face blank.

"Father has ordered a group of knights and dragon keepers, led by the Hand, to depart to Dragonstone as soon as possible to retrieve the egg." She looks up at her. "It'd end in catastrophe and bloodshed if they were to go alone."

It really would, Morrigan thinks, trying to imagine Daemon, Caraxes and the gold cloaks on one side and Otto Hightower with his guards on the other— Daemon and Otto cannot stand each other on a good day, and this is not a good day.

Rhaenyra takes in a breath. "So I need you to back up my story when I go to intervene tomorrow." One of Morrigan's eyebrows draws up in a silent question and Rhaenyra sighs softly. "Father would never allow me to go if I asked, so I will not give him a chance to forbid me to go before I do. But I might need you to buy me time if they realize I've disappeared too quickly."

Ser Rodrik looks between them. "So you need the Lady to lie to his Grace for you, if the occasion arises, Princess?"

Morrigan gives him a dark look— full of sharp edges and warning.

Rodrik returns it to her in kind, disapproval radiating from him that Morrigan doesn't much care for.

Let him stew in it for weeks, if he so wishes to.

Rhaenyra grimaces. "I— I don't want you to... but—" She turns back to Morrigan. "I would never ask you to commit treason against the king for me."

There's a sort of seriousness in Rhaenyra's eyes, desperately imploring her to believe her. And, without hesitation, Morrigan does, knowing Rhaenyra understands the graveness of the accusation, the consequences it could bring her.

Morrigan smiles at her. "You don't have to ask me, Rhaenyra. You're my friend. Of course I'll do it."

Rodrik stares at her behind the princess.

Morrigan doesn't so much as spare him a single glance.

Rhaenyra's shoulders sack a little in relief. "Are you sure?"

"I am."

There's a tiny smile— nothing more than a whisper of the bright smile Rhaenyra often gives her— on her friend's lips. "Thank you," she whispers softly, blinking quickly for a moment.

Morrigan squeezes her hands. "Of course." She replies softly before learning forward to look her in the eyes, a weight in them. "But, I beg you Rhaenyra, please be careful tomorrow. What you're attempting to do is going to be dangerous. I could not bear to see you harmed when I could have prevented it."

She hates that she needs to say any of this— the mere thought makes her sick to her stomach.

"And don't forget— as long as you're not on Syrax, you're vulnerable— they'll easily stop you."

Rhaenyra's expression hardens at the possibility.

"So don't get caught before."

AUTHOR'S NOTE,
akdjsks happy 2 weeks of stormbringer you all!! thank you sm for the love you've shown this fic (almost 15k readers and 1k votes in such a short time omg!!!!) ❤❤  i'm having so much fun with this fic atm (which is kinda obvious in how often i am updating; this is v unsual for me lmao) and it's really bringing me back to just having fun and writing without pressure and only bcs i enjoy it so!! thank you all sm for coming along on this journey!! idk why this is getting so many readers/interaction so fast but i am so grateful for it 🥰

also, we're pretty much at the end of ep 2 and about to head into the time skip!! stuff is happening soon in this fic hehe 🤭🤭

MINI SPOILERS FOR EP 3 / EP 4 PROMO IN THE REST OF THE AUTHOR'S NOTE BELOW (only regarding the timeline and no content of the episodes), SO STOP READING HERE IF YOU'VE NOT YET WATCHED PAST EP 2 AND WANT TO AVOID ANY SPOILERS

since there'll be a time skip of like 4-ish years from the end of ep 2 to the beginning of ep 4 (approximately, since ep 4 isn't out yet) and i had a few plotpoint planned in that time (yikes 💀) i'll be writing a few chapters set during the time skip(s).

is there any scene/reaction/interaction/dynamic you'd like to see (or see more of) set during that period of the end of ep 2 to the beginning of ep 4?? if so let me know here and if it fits into the outline i might add a little scene or two 👀👀