Daenerys looked at the little girl in the crib. She was a chubby, sweet, beautiful baby. Even as an infant, it was easy to see how gorgeous she would be. It was no surprise, as both Jaehaerys and Sansa were beautiful. Dany saw her husband's features in the girl.
The princess was afraid. Afraid that when she saw the little girl, she would begin to hate her. It was a huge relief when that didn't happen. She couldn't hate her, not when she could see Jaehaerys in her.
"Da-cays," she heard her say.
The word surprised her, and the cute way she blew air out of her mouth like a dragon breathing fire brought a genuine smile to her face. She had heard from her mother that many ladies hated their husbands' bastard children. But not her. Did she love the little girl? No, not yet. But at least she was sure she had no ill feelings toward her.
Would she love her in the future? That was uncertain. While she held no grudge against her, she couldn't help thinking how wonderful it would be to have a daughter of her own. She allowed herself to dream for a few moments. Perhaps she would give Jaehaerys a son, as handsome as he was, as strong and intelligent. That same little boy would take Rhaelle's hand to keep the lineage and the dragons within the family.
How beautiful fantasy is, and how sad reality is.
The door burst open. Sansa Stark appeared suddenly, agitated. The woman was breathing heavily. On her face, which she kept covered most of the time, there were traces of the abuse she had suffered at the hands of the Ironborn. Even with her wounds, she was a beauty, even Daenerys had to admit. If someone said that Sansa was the most beautiful woman in the room while the princess was present, she would not question their taste.
"A beautiful, healthy little girl," said Dany.
She noticed the fear in the northern woman's eyes; she had probably grown up hearing how southerners treated bastards. Poor girl, she seems very afraid. Dany did not seek to comfort her or say otherwise; instead, she caressed the baby's cheek, making her laugh.
"It was... a painful birth, though I couldn't compare it to any other," Sansa said, trying to remain friendly.
It was an uncomfortable scene for both of them: Jaehaerys's wife and the woman who had been his beloved so long ago. Dany wondered what it was like to watch Jaehaerys grow up, to fall in love with the prince little by little. Sansa had that privilege. And Jaehaerys too, he grew up with the redhead and fell in love with her as he grew up.
Dany didn't feel jealous; he was her husband. Her hand went to her neck, covered by fabric. Her husband had left a mark on her; the slight pain while rubbing it was comforting.
"Still," Dany murmured at Sansa's words. The redhead frowned. "Rhaelle, it was for my mother, right?" she asked Sansa.
"Yes, for the queen mother... I hoped she would be as brave as she has been," the stories of what Rhaelle had endured from Aerys had earned her a reputation. A reputation for certain people; others thought it was the least a woman should endure from her husband.
Dany smiled. "A beautiful name. I remember another Rhaelle, she ended up marrying a Baratheon, eventually giving birth to Robert Baratheon's father," said the princess, recalling a bit of the history she had been taught.
"My daughter... I hope she will be safe here, in this beautiful castle," Sansa said firmly. She had a strong will, Dany could see that.
"She will be. There will be no safer place in the Seven Kingdoms for her to grow up," Daenerys said. "May I?" she asked as she put an arm under the little girl.
Sansa approached, not to push her away or refuse her request. Instead, she picked up the baby and showed Daenerys how to hold her correctly. It might seem rude to assume that the princess didn't know how to hold a baby, but it was better for Sansa to explain it to her; it gave her greater confidence.
Daenerys wasn't bothered; instead, she looked at the baby in her arms.
"Is my presence a nuisance?" Sansa asked politely.
"No, it's not," Dany replied almost immediately. "You are a guest here," she said.
"I could leave and live in the village near the GodsEye," said Sansa.
"Would you leave without your daughter?" asked Dany. Sansa hesitated. "Jaehaerys' daughter will not be in the village, it is too dangerous," she explained. "For now, she is the heir to Argentstone," she blurted out the news like a battering ram on the gates of a castle.
"She is a Snow. I did not intend for her to replace your trueborn children," Sansa stepped forward and denied the princess's words. All she wanted was for Jaehaerys to be close to his daughter, perhaps giving her a small castle in the future.
"She is a Snow... but that is temporary," Daenerys said. "Jaehaerys is the Hand of the King. At the slightest opportunity, he will legitimize her," she continued, Sansa's face lighting up with understanding.
"And you agree with that, princess?" she asked incredulously.
"I already do. The little one deserves the surname. She has more dragon blood than many others in the house," she said, thinking of her older brother, the now-deceased Rhaegar.
"She's a bastard," Sansa said again. "A woman, moreover, her legitimate children—"
"I may not be able to have children," Daenerys said flatly, lifting the baby, who clapped her hands. Her vision blurred for a few seconds before she blinked repeatedly to clear away the tears.
"I'm sorry," Sansa's voice was laden with sincerity, and the princess could tell.
"It doesn't matter, I've already had three children," Dany tried to convince herself that she was fine. "And Jaehaerys already has an heir. Perhaps you will find to be a second wife for him," she blurted out and waited for Sansa's reaction.
The young woman's face reddened as much as her hair. She did not respond, probably trying not to say anything indecent in front of Daenerys. She could interpret the words as a provocation, as a way for the princess to discover her motivation for coming to Argentstone.
"I don't intend to take your place," Sansa said firmly, even though her heart longed to be in the prince's arms again.
"You won't," Daenerys said firmly as she handed her the baby. "You'll make your own. And you will give me heirs when I am unable to do so." It weighed heavily on Dany's heart to say those words, but Jaehaerys' lineage was important.
"And Jaehaerys... does he agree with this?" the young Stark asked timidly.
"No... he refuses to take a second wife," Dany said sincerely, not knowing how her words would be received.
"Mhm," Sansa's lips formed a straight line of disappointment. She had had the faint hope that Jaehaerys felt the same way she did. But the prince seemed too loyal to his wife even to consider taking a second one. Or maybe he didn't even want to be with Sansa again.
The two women continued an awkward conversation, not about Jaehaerys, but about little Rhaella. Princess Daenerys found it quite fascinating to raise a child. Despite boasting of having three, she never nursed the dragons.
According to Sansa, Rhaella was special, but then all mothers said that about their children. But Daenerys, knowing who the baby's father was, did not doubt those words as other lords might have done.