The Dragon-Tamer

30

It took a full day to finally get back to Dragonstone and get settled in. Now, the hour is late and everyone was readying themselves for bed. Feyre was in her chambers, reading a book in bed. She was waiting for Rhaenyra to finish her bath, never really finding sleep without feeling Nyra near her.

She held her book in one hand while her other hand softly caressed her belly. She had checked in with the maester when she got home, and he said that she was due any day now. It excited Feyre to finally be able to meet her baby soon. The last baby she planned to have.

The door to the bathroom opened, letting steam out. Rhaenyra stepped out in her nightgown, silver hair wet. Feyre swore that she fell in love all over again. There was never a sight more beautiful than when her Nyra allowed herself to wash away all her stress from the day and appeared serene.

"You dare stare at your Princess?" Rhaenyra teased her lover.

Feyre smirked and put her book to the side, "What? Are you going to punish me for staring at a beautiful lady?"

"I might," Rhaenyra walked over to Feyre's side of the bed and straddled her lap, "But do you deserve it?"

They were about to kiss when there was a knock on the door. Rhaenyra groaned and slid off off Feyre's lap, annoyed by the interruption.

Feyre laughed at Rhaenyra's expression, "Come in!"

The door opened and in walked Corrine, who wore an apologetic smile as she walked in, "Forgive me, my lady, Princess."

"What is it, Corrine?" Feyre asked.

"The Lady Aemma refuses to sleep, my lady," Corrine told Feyre, "She requests your presence."

Feyre's brows furrow and she got off the bed, putting on her robe, "Is she alright?"

"I think she just wants her mother, my lady," Corrine assured her, "I remember when I wanted my mother all the time, very well into my teen years."

"I shall go to her," Feyre put her slippers on her feet and turned to Rhaenyra, "I'll be right back."

Rhaenyra nodded, "Take your time."

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Feyre made quick work to get to Aemma's chambers. She thought she nearly knocked a maid over. But she made it in ten minutes.

She knocked on the door three times fast and then once again, hers and Aemma's secret knock. The door opened by itself and Feyre entered the room.

Aemma was sitting on her bay window, watching the waves crash on the sand. She looked up at her mother who was panting as if she ran all the way here. The young woman laughed and stood to hug her mother.

"Did you run all the way here, Mama?" Aemma brought her mother to sit on the bay window.

"I was told that you needed me," Feyre took a deep breaths, "Forgive me for wanting to make sure that my daughter is alright."

Aemma smiled, "Thank you, Mama."

"Now, why can't you find sleep, my love?" Feyre grabbed Aemma's hand, "What's on your mind?"

Aemma wracked her brain to find the right words, "Can our magic bring the dead back to life."

Feyre was taken aback by her daughter's words, "Why do you ask that?"

"I've been thinking about...the King," And something else that Aemma didn't have the heart to tell her mother, "If he were to die, could you or I bring him back?"

"Aemma, you listen to me," Feyre leaned closer to her daughter, "I've studied out craft for a little more than a decade, and I can tell you that magic is not simple. Sure we can move things and control people, but things like healing or bringing people back to life comes with dire consequences."