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Rating:
Teen And Up Audiences
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Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Categories:
F/MF/F
Fandoms:
Game of Thrones (TV)House of the Dragon (TV)A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. MartinA Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms
Relationships:
Rhaenyra Targaryen/Laenor VelaryonRhaenyra Targaryen & Daenerys TargaryenAlicent Hightower & Rhaenyra TargaryenHelaena Targaryen & Rhaenyra TargaryenLaena Velaryon/Daemon Targaryen/Daenerys TargaryenAegon II Targaryen & Rhaenyra TargaryenAemond "One-Eye" Targaryen & Daemon TargaryenJon Snow & Daemon TargaryenDaemon Targaryen/Daenerys TargaryenJon Snow & Daenerys Targaryen
Characters:
Laenor VelaryonRhaenys Targaryen VelaryonLucerys Velaryon (Son of Rhaenyra)Jacaerys VelaryonDaenerys TargaryenDrogon | Daenerys Targaryen's DragonAlicent HightowerDaemon TargaryenAegon II TargaryenAemond "One-Eye" TargaryenVhagar (ASoIaF)Rhaenyra TargaryenHelaena TargaryenLaena Velaryon (Daughter of Corlys)Caraxes | Daemon Targaryen's DragonVermithor | Jaehaerys I Targaryen's DragonJon SnowGhost | Jon Snow's DirewolfMelisandre (A Song of Ice and Fire)
Additional Tags:
Time TravelTime Travel Fix-ItDragon POV - FreeformWhite Walkers (A Song of Ice and Fire)ProphecyDreamsDance of the DragonsReconciliationPoliticsAlternate Universe - Canon DivergenceSome RomanceFamilyRhaegal livesGood Sibling Rhaenyra TargaryenHelaena Targaryen Joins Team BlackAemond does not lose an eyeSome angstHurt/Comfortsiblings bondingTime ShenanigansBlood MagicThe Long Night (A Song of Ice and Fire)One-Sided Jon Snow/Daenerys TargaryenJealous Jon Snow
Language:
English
Series:
Part 1 of The Wings of Time Next Work →
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🌑 𝑫𝒂𝒓𝒌 𝑴𝒂𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒓 🌑
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Published:2023-09-27Updated:2026-07-08Words:479,849Chapters:115/130Comments:6,122Kudos:9,244Bookmarks:1,865Hits:519,728
Dragons, Dreams, and Second Chances
BearlyMadeIt
Chapter 5
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Yes. Absolutely gone insane.
"The dead?" Rhaenyra repeated.
"Yes." The girl frowned. "Why else would you be here?"
They stared at each other for a few seconds, not sure who was playing who right now.
"Listen, my lady," Daenerys tried again. Maybe she had not heard of the dead after all. "Winterfell is gone. The North is gone. I do not know how far south they hunted us, but everything in between is gone. They are all dead." She paused for a moment. "Will have joined them, which is worse."
Rhaenyra stared at her without a word.
"If I were them, I would go for the big cities next. Kings Landing alone…" 500.000 or something around? Not even counting any graves nearby. "The Night King will raise so many; I do not want to think of it."
She still just stared at her. "The Night King?" Rhaenyra repeated.
Part of Daenerys wanted to lose patience with the women, but she remembered hearing it for the first time herself. It was hard to believe, simply based on words.
"Yes. The Night King, White Walkers, the army of the dead. The wall fell. Did you not hear?"
Then again, whoever could have told her was dead.
---
"What did she say?" Laenor asked the very moment he joined her.
Rhaenyra just shook her head. "Nothing useful. She is… quite confused." The nicest way to put it. She han't given up hope though. She had learned some things at the least. "I think she hatched all three eggs."
"What?"
Yes, what. What had been her favorite thought too.
"At least one of them turned on her and attacked her and the black one. The third one is missing. We have at least one aggressive dragon flying around. Maybe even two."
How could they not have heard of it?
Laenor hesitated. "Did she tell how she hatched them?"
She shook her head. "Did not get to it." She paused and looked at her husband. "I do not even know her name."
He looked at her exasperated, which finally made her smile. And then laugh.
Laenor hugged her loosely. Rhaenyra leaned her head against his shoulder and sighed weakly. What a mess.
"Should I fly to Kings Landing?" He asked softly. "Tell your father?"
"Yes, I would... I would appreciate that." Her father had to know. They had taken way too much time already. "I will try to talk to her again. Maybe tomorrow or the day after." Perhaps whatever fever dream she was having would pass.
---
Only, and she could only admit this to herself, all alone in her chamber, it did not let her go. From the North, she had said. That the wall had fallen, that Winterfell was gone. The White Walkers coming for them, killing everyone and everything in their path. If that did not sound like the end of the world, what did?
It sounded… it sounded so much like her father's words, like Aegon's dream, it scared her. The end of the world of men. Worse was, the girl believed it. Rhaenyra had seen it in her eyes. Her first question had not been about herself, not even her dragon. Her first question had been how many men they had.
---
Drogon stared when yet another dragon turned up. A white-ish one, this time, looking oddly close to Rhaegal. At least the size fit. A young man petted it absentmindedly while talking to the older dragon lady, and then hopped on its back and they took flight.
Where were all the dragons coming from? How were they even? Everyone had always said that they were the last ones, the only ones, that their existence was a wonder, albeit Drogon had no idea what the word meant.
The white one had to have been somewhere nearby. Once again, Drogon took flight, feeling the insane hope that there were even more of them somewhere close. The more dragons they were the better their chance at survival. Soon enough, he circled the firey mountain, although it wasn't all too firey right now. His brothers and he had curled up on its warm stone time and time again back when… back when they were all still alive.
Everything smelled of dragon. Drogon couldn't quite get how he hadn't smelled it before. Not paid it any mind, yes, believed the red was the only one, maybe… He didn't know. It did not make sense. None of it did. But once again, he didn't bother all too much. He simply landed, watched the men who fed him eye him carefully, and very slowly sneaked into one of the caves.
---
Vermithor opened his eyes and raised his head when a new scent filled his nostrils. He saw the little one. Barely bigger than a hatchling, in his humble opinion. Black scales, like Balerion had had. The little one looked around, stepping through the tunnels carefully. Their gazes met and Vermithor growled. To its credit, it didn't back away immediately.
---
Rhaenyra barely even slept at all. The girls' words haunted her. Her certainty. The way she spoke of it. She believed every damn word.
One of the calm crazies, Rhaenyra thought uneasily. The worst kind. The loud screaming ones she would ignore, but her? What had happened to make her believe such nonsense? And believe it so firmly. Whatever had attacked her… it had made her lose her wits, which just made matters worse.
Her talking of the dead, the North having fallen… it unsettled her, worse than she wanted to admit. Why from the North? Why make it sound like the end of things? Why…
And then things clicked, and Rhaenyra realized why it seemed so familiar. White Walkers, the army of the dead. She chuckled weakly and shook her head, nearly feeling relieved. It was the Long Night. Nothing more, nothing less. She must have read the stories and… believed it would happen again? Was that it?
She would have flown her dragons over here, if she even had three to begin with, looking for the dead, and then… and then what? One of them had turned on her? Unlikely. If, if, the girl had hatched all of them and through some weird chance of luck bonded them, they wouldn't turn on her. No way. Dragons were loyal. Once the bond was made, it was made. They were them. Sometimes they were a bit moody, sometimes acting out, but they would not attack each other nor their rider on a whim. Never.
Which meant… she didn't have three dragons? But what had attacked the black one, then? Or did she have three dragons, and something had broken the bond?
Rhaenyra sighed. No matter how much she thought of it, it didn't get better.
Come morning, she looked for the guard who had spotted them first.
"Where did they come from? The dragon. Do you remember?" She asked. The guard had scurried down the rock he was positioned on when she asked his name.
"North… North-west, my princess."
Rhaenyra hummed and thanked him. She might have come from the North. She seemed fixated on Winterfell, after all. Maybe, if whatever had happened there… the North was largely empty, whether the Starks wanted to admit it or not. Still. Someone must have seen them on their mad journey south.
Next, she went to her maester, ordering him to send ravens to the Starks and Arryns if they had seen a dragon flying around. If she had run from anywhere nearby Winterfell and made a flight for Dragonstone, she might have passed over them. Maybe someone had seen her. Or whatever had hurt her.
---
The next few hours, Rhaenyra once again mulled over what to do next. Talk to her again, of course. See if her story had changed. Or see how many insane explanations she could come up with. Part of her knew she should talk with Rhaenys or Laenor first, get their opinion… but what to say? The girl believes the dead are marching. Made for a good story for sure.
---
"How is she doing?" Rhaenyra asked her guard.
"Good, I dare say. Upset, but good. For her circumstances, of course. She demanded being let out several times."
Rhaenyra smiled weakly. Upset, but good. Should be doable. She entered the room.
The girl looked up from her soup. She carefully put the bowl aside and sat up properly.
"I demand to be let out of this room, Rhaenyra."
"If you explain some things to me." Still not, but she wouldn't say. At least until her father was here and made his decision.
The girl, well, young woman really, looked at her darkly.
"What you told me. About the dead. It sounds like the Long Night." They were legends at best. The maesters disregarded all of it. The most likely theory seemed to be wildlings turning insane if it had happened at all.
The girl just stared at her… and sighed.
"I saw them. I watched them overrun Winterfell, kill everyone and everything." Her voice quivered. Tears rolled down her cheeks. "Everyone I know is dead. We… we are just… maybe they really hate water. I cannot explain why we are still alive otherwise, I…"
"Do you really –"
"Believe that? Yes. I did not in the beginning. Of course, I did not. It is insane. But…" She shook her head and wiped away her tears, which just kept falling. "They killed my dragon, Rhaenyra. Shot him right out of the sky. And then raised him. I wish I could…" She trailed off and fell quiet, looking at the ground.
Once again, her certainty made Rhaenyra uneasy. She didn't sound like she had to think about any of it. Her tears. Her believe that they had killed and raised her dragon from the dead.
"Tell me how it went. The fight at Winterfell."
Maybe, if she told the full story, she could find loose ends she could unravel. Maybe the girl would realize it was all a farce.
"Well…" the girl told her. Of her Dothraki – how had those turned up? – of Jon riding her other dragon, of her army, of theirs. Of fucking Lannisters not keeping their word, which send her on a tangent about Lannisters, which in turn made Rhaenyra smile. Fucking Lannisters. They could agree on that! She still remembered the audacity when the man had asked for her hand. To live out her days at Casterly Rock. Part of her wanted to believe her so badly, although every word was unbelievable. She sounded so certain, though. Had answers to every question, had explanations, could tell her of their defences, their battle plans. Everything. Barely hesitated, as long as it wasn't about her dragons, that was, never fidgeted around. She just told her story.
"We can fly Drogon west if you don't believe me. You can see it for yourself." She finally ended.
Once again, Rhaenyra stared at her. Her offer… The fact that she was so sure of what they would see. Or it was her try at escaping. But if she believed all of what she had told her, she would not try to escape. There was no reason to. There was nowhere to go. Everyone else was dead.
"One more thing."
"Yes?"
"What about the dragon glass?" That one still did not make sense.
"It kills white walkers. Fire for the wights, dragon glass for the walkers. We hoped dragonfire would kill them too, but…" she shrugged. "Did not work. I tried. The fucker just smiled up at me."
"Hm."
"Can I leave this room now?"
Rhaenyra did not reply; was lost thinking about her words again. If only she was not so certain…
"Rhaenyra?"
"Yes?"
"Can I at least see my dragon?"
Rhaenyra eyed her for a few long seconds and then nodded. "Of course." If she believed it, she would not run. Or fly.
Notes:
That's the least cliffhanger I could manage. I hope it's okay, haha.
Thank you lots for all the comments on the last chapter! In the next one, Daenerys will finally meet Laenor, Rhaenys and their dragons.
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