Chapter 37: Chapter 037 – Rhaella Targaryen

[289 AC]

Fire poured out of the blazing phoenix, coalescending, swirling and crompressing, as it slowly materialised into the form of a graceful womanly figure.

Fire giving birth to life, as Rhaella Targaryen's soul reformed and melted into her stunningly beautiful, physical form, unblemished by age and the torturous treatment her brotherly husband had given her.

It was a short and yet lengthy process, as Phenex lived through her life as he reformed her existence and waited for the quiet Queen to awaken from her deathly slumber.

…

Her mind hazy and body heavy, Rhaella slowly came to herself, as she lay on the heated oily black stones of the Heart Chamber, her bare skin rubbing against the smooth stone surface.

Her eyes opening in a flutter, she was disoriented and thought that her mind was playing tricks on her, as all she could see was a massive blazing figure surrounding her in a darkly lit chamber.

Realising her state of dress a moment later, her eyes widened in shock and she hastily sat on her knees, using her hands to cover her modesty. One of her arms wrapped around her bared chest, while her free hand shielded her womanhood from view as best she could.

Closing her hauntingly beautiful eyes and biting on the inside of her cheek in an attempt to use the pain to wake herself up from this obvious nightmare, as she thoought that her deranged husband's perversion with fire may have snuck into her mind to torment her not only when awake, but now also in her sleep.

The next moment though an etheral voice echoed in her mind, telling her of the futility of her actions.

“This isn't a dream, Rhaella Targaryen.”

The voice had a deep and somewhat soothing tone to it, as it addressed her.

Her deep violet eyes opening again, the former Queen found a pair of bright eyes, with the same colour as hers and the size of her head, staring back at her calmly.

Many things could be said about Rhaella.

About how tragic her life had been, how dutiful a Queen she had been, or how she too may have been at fault for her children's foolish decisions and character flaws. And yet, no one who truly knew her, would dare to call her weak or spineless.

The mere fact that she had endured decades of loveless marriage and later on also the horrible abuse under her late husband proved as much. Even then she had used the meager power she had had and stood up to him, as Aerys Targaryen had wanted to force himself on her former handmaidens, among them Joanna Lannister and even Oberyn's mother.

Dismissing several of them throughout the years to protect them from the Mad King, she had taken it upon herself to endure his abuse and anger.

Rhaella Targaryen had an inner strength that let her stave off despair and sorrow, even when others would have long since broken. It was a patient and soft strength that protected her kind and gentle heart form the experiences that had been forced upon her.

And so, she looked at the mystical being in front of her with deep eyes, as she gracefully straightened her back, fearless in the face of the unknown.

Though she was startled, when a moment later tendrils of fire encroached upon her, flinching back insintinctively.

“At ease, I will not hurt you.”, the deep voice echoed in her mind again, as she forced herself to stay still, while strings of fire wrapped around her form, her aversion of the fiery element firmly suppressed.

True to his words, the being in front of her did not harm her, as those tendrils knitted themselves into a silken-soft robe that enveloped her sensual curves in their entirety and sent a pleasant warmth through her figure.

Owing it to her upbringing and exceptional manners, Rhaella found herself reflexively lowering her head and addressing the being in front of her quietly, as she voiced out: “Thank you.”

Clenching her jaws for a moment, she looked up again, as she asked softly, the slightest stammer to her voice: “W-where am I? And w-what are y-you?”

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“I will answer your questions in due time, Lady Targaryen.”, the fiery being answered, its voice ringing in her ears pleasantly as it continued, “Though first you must try and recall the last things you remember, Rhaella. Remember what happened to you.”

Drawn in by the enchanting voice, the former Queen's eyes became hazy, as she relived the last few years of her harsh life.

Her beloved firstborn, kidnapping the Warden of the North's only daughter and fleeing with her to Dorne, leaving behind his wife and children on Dragonstone. Her maddened husband killing the Warden and his heir, Brandon Stark, when they had come to King's Landing and demanded justice for her son's actions.

War breaking out in the realm as a result, Eddard Stark and Robert Baratheon rallying their supporters, with her son Rhaegar Targaryen finally being struck down by the young Lord Baratheon, which had supposedly earned him the title 'Demon of the Trident'.

Afterwards she had been sent with her son Viserys to Dragonstone in her pregnant state by her husand and King, where she had then received the news of his and her son's family's deaths in King's Landing. Sorrow deep in her heart, due to the death of her grandchildren and daughter-in-law, she had given birth to a daughter a few months later.

Her eyes suddenly widening and waking from her daze, Rhaella Targaryen looked at the being in front of her.

Her body trembling in shock and confusion, while tears shimmered in her eyes due to the memories of her children's and grandchildren's fate, as she stammered hestitantly: “I … I-I died in labour … H-how … ?”

The creature's head, that had until now been resting on the floor, was raised in the air via its long neck, staring down at her majestically, as the being addressed her once again: “You asked me who I am?”

Pausing for a moment, as Rhaella stared up what she now recognized as a bird of sorts, it continued: “I am the Phoenix, Ruler of the Fiery Sky, Aspect of Life, Fire and Rebirth. The people in the lands you know as Westeros and Essos call me the Lord of Light, R'hllor or the Red God, and more recently, the God of Volantis and Ruler of the Blessed Cities.”

Sorrow and confusion forgotten for the moment, Rhaella's mind was in great shock, as her mind registered his words and she realised that she stood before a real god.

The former Queen didn't doubt the being's words. Too clear she remembered her own death, while the proof of its power was not only wrapped around her bare form, but she recognized their validity by simply looking at the blazing creature before her.

She had heard of the name of this god before, along with knowing of First Daughter, i.e. Volantis, being the oldest and one of the most powerful of the Free Cities, where the Red Temple's influence was apparently very great, though she did not know what the Blessed Cities were, having never heard this name.

Her thoughts were interrupted, as the divine creature continued: “I instilled life back into your existence and revived you, Rhaella. And the reason why I did such is your daughter, Daenerys Stormborn.”

“D-Daenerys?”, Rhaella asked quietly, bewilderment in her tone, before she continued a bit more forcefully, as she was worried about her child, “W-where is she? Where is my daughter?”

Suddenly the fiery body of the great creature, collapsed in on itself, the flames twisting and contracting, until the long-necked bird turned into a blazing humanoid figure.

Fire turning into flesh, Rhaella found herself looking into the violet eyes of the most beautiful man she had ever met. Soft black locks, fair skin and sharp features, all attached to the physique of a warrior.

A calm look on his face, her ears tingled as she heard the god's human voice for the first time: “Daenerys is here in Volantis, only a few floors higher up in this temple. She is safe and under my care, Rhaella. I brought her here a few days ago, when I received the news of her elder brother Viserys passing away.“

The words exploding in the former Queen's mind, she faltered in her steps. Deep agony spreading through her heart and numbing her senses, as she heard of her second-born's death.

Silent tears ran down her cheeks, as her sight became hazy and she threatened to fall, when suddenly strong arms wrapped themselves around her waist and shoulder. Warm hands falling onto her form and rubbing comfortingly over her back.

Instinctively, she froze at the intimate physical contact, her palms pressing against the hard chest of the man, unsure if she should push the unfamiliar deity away.

Though the comforting warmth flowing into her heartbroken form from the points of contact between their bodies and the soft soothing words that suddenly rang in her ears made her defenses cumble.

“It's alright. You can cry, Rhaella. You don't have to be strong right now. Not while under my protection.”

Unable to hold back her sobs, her head fell forward against the man's chest, while her fingers tightly clutched at his robes. Her tears staining and darkening the black fabric of his tunic, as soft trembles rocked through her frail form.

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