SIX —— GIRLHOOD IS JUST LIKE GODHOOD

105 AC, KING'S LANDING.

There's something about the capital of the kingdoms that does not quite sit right with Ser Rodrik Fell, and whether that be the way of people living on each other like rats— too little room and too many living things— or it be the absolute otherness of the Red Keep to his home, he isn't sure. Truth is, he doesn't quite care.

But, at the end of the day, there is a specific reason why he is here and why he is not intending on leaving anytime soon and it has nothing do to with his age or preference of pillow to lay his head on at the end of the day and everything to do with loyalty.

Because, what is the promise of safety when it comes from a family that had lain ruin to his homeland not much more than a century before? When it comes to his heirs, there is nobody and nothing Lord Boremund Baratheon trusts than loyalty— no words, no promises no matter how sweet and alluring— and even if his granddaughter is not a son— she is the only final heir he has today.

And so, it'd been Ser Rodrik, a knight he'd grown up with and known all his life, to accompany his eldest granddaughter to the Red Keep and stay at her side for her safety and protection.

Ser Rodrik Fell much believes that the Knighton boy— Eric— who'd replaced him as guard of the sisters when they'd left Storm's End has an easier job than him, even with four of the Five Storms under his care.

Nobody can try and tell him that all her sisters combined hold a candle to what the eldest daughter might do.

And not for the first time he thinks it's a good thing he was sent with her and not some green knight. At least the girl respects him with sincerity.

Any lad who'd been send with her would have drowned in her storm even if there'd still be a still sea with the sun beating down.

None of those boys would have lasted a month.

And any of them would've sunk like a drowning cat upon the realization that the Lady Morrigan, heir of Storm's End, had snuck out upon one of the most important days in recent history— the Lords swearing loyalty to Princess Rhaenyra as Heir to the Iron Throne— to fly a dragon and nobody the wiser.

With Daemon fucking Targaryen.

Ser Rodrik Fell would have given his sword arm to be in Eric Knighton's stead at Storm's End, wrangling a horde of four reckless girls who liked to bring desperation to grown knights as a pastime before the lessons with their septa. The girls were a hurricane, their grandfather liked to say.

Rodrik isn't quite sure what Morrigan Baratheon is supposed to be if they're hurricanes, but it's something like what Durran Godsgrief must've faced then.

As a boy, Rodrik had liked storms. Then he had met his Lord's granddaughters.

And he most certainly isn't sure if the fact that his lady was content with playing pretend at convincing everyone that the whole incident never happened made this better or worse. It's been fucking months and if he didn't know for a fact the entire thing occurred, he could've sworn that his lady had never so much as known about the existence of the king's younger brother.

He doesn't fucking like it and he can't even blame it on this shit city.

"How is the princess faring, my lady?"

Morrigan looks up at him, an expression as if he'd torn her from her thoughts for a moment before she turns her eyes back on the steps ahead of them, leading up to the Sept where they're to join Rhaenyra and Alicent any moment now.

If she's being honest, she isn't quite sure when she was last in a Sept by choice— she's going to the Sept many times a year, but it is because of expectations and not choice. She doesn't think it's been since she was a girl— it's always been because of something else.

She knows it has not been since she turned ten and five. And she finds the grand Sept to be even more oppressing than the smaller one in Storm's End.

At least there, she could still hear the wind and sear even beyond the stone.

"She's been better. She lost her mother and brother after all," there's a soft frown of worry creasing her forehead. "But she is strong."

She doesn't have a choice but to be strong, Morrigan thinks. Rhaenyra is the heir to the throne now and history has never been kind to women— most certainly not those in power. Rhaenyra could either learn to swim or she'd drown in it all.

Sooner, rather than later.

———————

"It's only been half a year since my mother died, and already they tried to marry my father off and replace me as heir," Rhaenyra says softly as the three of them make their way through the Sept, an expression of displeasure on her face. "I know those men and how they plot in their secret council when I've been sent away."

"You cannot worry at the matters of lords and kings, Rhaenyra. What if your father were to remarry?" Alicent replies, pausing for a moment as she grabs one of the matches, turning to the array of candles.

Morrigan doesn't say a word— her mother is still alive, after all, so what right would she have to participate in this conversation?— and still, even here, where she wants to comfort her friend all a small part of her can think is that if there is a world with a firstborn daughter on the Iron Throne, then a firstborn daughter as Head of one of the Great Houses isn't far either— if Rhaenyra ascends her father's throne, nobody will stop her from succeeding her father as Lady of Storm's End either, one day.

She has four younger sisters and no living brother— Morrigan wants that world more than anything, if not for her own sake, then for theirs.

Rhaenyra looks away in the silence.

"Your father loves you." Alicent adds. "He chose you for his heir."

"He didn't choose me. He spurned Daemon." Rhaenyra replies, a sharpness to her tone like the difference matters.

And it does.

Morrigan frowns, tearing her gaze from the flickering fire of the candles in front of her— she'd long since grown to prepare the silence of her great-grandmother's gardens over the Sept and had only seldom been in the Sept since she'd been here, only ever really to fulfill the expectations for an unwed lady of her status and inherited faith— and looks up at her. "Everyone knows that you'll be a better ruler than Daemon can ever hope to be."

Rhaenyra's pale eyes— so much like that of her third sister, Ellyn— turn to her, meeting her dark gaze and there's something in there Morrigan cannot quite put her finger on— almost like something is trying to claw its way up her throat and out of her lips, but the words choke her all the same.

They stare at each other in silence as Alicent kneels down in front of the candles, lighting one and blowing the flame on the match out before she folds her fingers together. She turns to them. "Kneel with me."

Morrigan stiffens, just for a moment and then she is a young girl again and her body acts as if she is sleepwalking— making her way to where Rhaenyra is cautiously approaching Alicent's side like it's a wild animal coiled to strike and sinks to her knees, folding her fingers in sight for prayer.

She stares at the flames for so long, they all blend together, blurring at the edge of her vision.

It'd been so long since she'd prayed— no, begged. She'd begged the Seven for salvation in a garden filled with death and life nearly three years ago.

To this day she is not sure if it'd been their answer or her own doing that had brought what she had pleaded for.

To this day, she cannot find peace in holy places anymore.

"I find this is a way to be with my mother," Alicent tells Rhaenyra at her right. "Here, in the quiet of the Sept, I feel close to her— I know it sounds foolish."

"I don't think it's foolish," Rhaenyra replies, a weight on her tone Morrigan hates to her and she watches as her two friends exchange a look. Rhaenyra shakes her head. "I don't."

Alicent sends Rhaenyra a soft smile. "Good. Because I thought you might try."

"I..."

"If not for me, then, perhaps for them." She offers Rhaenyra the match.

Rhaenyra takes in a deep breath— or lets out a sigh, Morrigan isn't quite sure— and turns back to the candles, lighting the match with one of their flames before she blows it out and awkwardly folds her fingers together.

She gives Alicent a side-look. "What do I say?" She asks after a moment.

"Whatever you wish. It's only for you and the gods to know."

Rhaenyra nods slowly, turning back to the flames, staring at them for a moment, blinking rapidly.

She lets out a sob, covering her face in her hands before looking up again. "I want him to see me as more than this little girl." She whispers and the notes hit something in Morrigan's very soul.

And she wonders if this isn't a wish all daughters share.

"Mine own father does not know the language of girls, either." Alicent says, looking at Rhaenyra. "When I wish to talk with him, I know that I must make the effort."

Rhaenyra's throat bobs. "Thank you."

And while they're comforting the princess, seated in the middle with Alicent's hands in her's and Morrigan's head on her shoulder, Alicent is watching Rhaenyra as Rhaenyra watches the flames— and Morrigan is watching Alicent.

———————

They're almost out of the Sept when Morrigan reaches out and grabs Alicent's arm, stopping her.

"What are you doing?" She asks softly, her voice low.

Alicent frowns at her. "I don't know what you mean," the Hand's daughter replies, gently tugging her arm out of Morrigan's grip and follows Rhaenyra outside.

And Morrigan stands there, watching her— a feeling of unease she cannot explain writhing beneath her skin.

AUTHOR'S NOTE,
okok so first off, i think it's a little obvious BUT let's not mention any spoilers beyond whatever happens jn the latest episode in the comments!! i'm trying to keep this fic as spoiler-free as possible bcs some people haven't read fire&blood/know everything that's gonna happen and there are so many people posting spoilers everywhere without warning & i'm just trying to keep that as little as possible in here <3

so this wasn't planned lmao but i'm home from vacation and i was feeling inspired to write so here's an update a day earlier than planned!! i wanted to thank you all for the love the last chapter (and this fic overall) received in the past two weeks it's been up, you all are truly amazing 🥺❤❤

this chapter isn't *that* long or eventful but!! it introduces some minor ocs (i noticed that i never mentioned ser rodrik before so here he is!!) and sets up the future events & conflicts hehe