Chapter 47
RHAENYRA TARGARYEN
Rhaenyra had spent days fearing Daemon's next move. She would often sleep wondering him to sweep in at any moment with his dragon, and burn the entire castle up. But this.
She had never expected this.
They had rushed out of the castle at the first sign of trouble. The roar had woken up most of the men, there and there was much chaos within the castle for their greatest defence against a dragon invasion was still away.
Her aunt had yet to return, and for a minute there she had readied herself for a damning end. But all it had taken her was one glance to know that the dragon in the air was not Ceraxes.
She had seen it fly over the city enough times to recognise it. This dragon was smaller, and younger. Its intentions had been obvious enough, and her words had lessened the tension.
But not for long.
It was not Daemon coming after them. But soon it would be. Very soon.
"Rhaenys is dead," she heard her aunt gasp, and she had returned an hour after his arrival along with the fabled healer. Rhaenyra had been much young when she had seen him before, yet still she remembered those kind eyes, and soft hands.
He was the person who had helped her mother during the birth of her sister, and then Daemon had accused him of treason, and robbed him of an arm. She did not remember much about him, but all the whispers she had heard had painted him as a Saint.
"Yes," Laenor whispered as he lay there in bed. His body was covered in burns and scars, and he had some half dozen broken bones.
The room gasped at those words, as Rhaenyra felt her legs weaken. She was not close with her aunt, but the implication in that statement was obvious enough.
"It was Daemon," and she felt Alicent wrap her arms around her, as she steadied her, as Laenor continued.
He came to Spicetown out of nowhere. I was on my dragon, flying when he attacked me," and he hesitated, as he pursed his lips.
"I tried to fight but he was simply too powerful," and she saw his eyes well up with tears, as he continued.
"But then mother came. She was unprepared. She had no armor or riding gear on, and they duelled in the air for some half an hour," and Rhaenys was one of the best riders alive and Meleys was called the Red Queen for good reason.
Even Daemon would have trouble fighting her, but with no armor or riding gear to protect her. She was fighting at a great disadvantage.
"She died trying to protect me. They both did," and Laenor was crying now, as all eyes in the room turned towards her aunt whose face was ashen.
"He burned the entire town, until they all bowed to him. He was going to kill me too, but he changed his mind. He said he wanted me to deliver a message," and then he turned towards her aunt.
"He is coming for you," and his eyes then slid towards her.
"All of you," and she felt Alicent pull her in closer, at those words and the room was filled with silence at those words, as the Healer rose from the side and walked up to Ser Laenor.
"I believe that is enough," he said softly, somewhat unperturbed by what he had just heard.
"Ser Laenor is enough pain. He must now rest," and with that they slowly walked out of the room, and Rhaenyra walked hand in hand with Alicent and haunted and damned as it was Harrenhall was a very large castle, with enough hiding spots that Alicent and her were able to find a place that was completely theirs.
In the end, they sat together in silence reeling from the words they had just heard. It was not entirely unexpected. They had expected this of Daemon. They had expected war.
But reality and expectation, hardly ever aligned.
"What will we do now?" she finally gathered the courage to ask.
"You heard him," she said, as she turned towards Alicent and looked into her eyes.
"Daemon is coming for us," and she could see fear and hesitation in those eyes, as they hid on one the broken balconies of one of the towers, and infront of them the entirety of the land lay bare.
A small wind hit their faces, and one could see nearly five hundred tents put into the ground, and the army that was being assembled.
"We knew this would happen," Alicent whispered, and they did indeed.
"War was inevitable," and yet she had neve expected it to come so soon, pr perhaps it was all just naivety.
"I miss him. I miss father," and she had not thought about him in years, and yet as she looked at the carnage around her, she could not help but feel that nothing like this would have happened if he was alive.
"We all do," Alicent added, and they were not much close to the Velaryons despite their close blood ties, and they were no allies of theirs. But they were kin nonetheless, and now Daemon burned their home and their people.
He had killed his own blood.
"I believe this is war then," and this fear. This foreboding that lingered in the air. This was war.
"Perhaps," and they both simply looked at each other, and with the shadow of the Stranger inching closer every second, Rhaenyra wondered just how much time she had left.
And perhaps it was the shock of it all, or the possibility of death that moved them as they neared one another, until she could feel Alicent's breath on her face. The hesitation was obvious, the fear was palpable and yet she had lingered in its shadows for too long.
And so with a final plunge their lips met and the world around them dissolved, and it was slow at first and neither of them knew what to do, or what it was yet the only thing they knew in that moment was that they did not wish for it to end.
Not now.
Not ever.
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GAEL TARGARYEN
War.
It had turned from a possibility to a reality the second she had decided to take the throne, and yet now with swords drawn it was no longer just a reality. It was here.
War was upon us, and Gael found herself wondering if she was truly ready for the pains ahead. Laenor's tale had been one of death and devastation, and while the Velaryons were no friends of hers, they were kin. They were dragonlords, and now they were dead.
Gone, in the span of less than a day.
A council had been assembled for her, and the reality of the future she had been thrust into began to set, as doubts filled her heart. Daemon had become unhinged, and had torn up all the possibilities of a peaceful solution.
Now, the only way this war could ever end was for one of them to die, and she had no intentions of dying.
"This is not the welcome I had envisioned," she whispered, and right now she stood in her chambers besides Galen as she stared at the armies gathering to fight for her.
"I have only ever offered you war, death and pain," she whispered, as Galen smiled.
"Peace is overrated," he whispered to her, as she looked towards him and saw him nod at her.
"We were negotiating," she told him, and very few people knew of that.
"Me and Rhaenys, and we had reached a semblance of a deal. The Velaryons were going to declare for us," and she had hoped to force Daemon into backing off by gathering support from all of the Lords, but Daemon had struck first and he had struck hard.
He had not just removed one of the claimants to the throne, but had won himself a fleet and a gold filled treasury. It was not much, but he had managed to claw back the odds in his favor, and now the victory which had once seemed so close seemed rather distant.
"But now she is gone. Dead because of a war that exists only because of my cowardice," and if only she had not waited so long to accept her brother's offer. If only she had done something sooner.
"You are not a coward," he soothed softly, as he brushed back her hair.
"You are kind," and she had learned that from him. Learned this kindness from him.
"But I have learned that kindness for one's enemies is nothing less than treachery to your own being," and his eyes hardened as he said those words, and the reward for his own kindness lay there infront of her eyes.
"Daemon has declared himself as our enemy," he added with surety, that took her by surprise.
"Showing him kindness now will only prolong our suffering. This war will have little need of kindness so harden your heart my dear," he said, and she nodded.
"You have changed," she whispered as she stepped forward.
"I had to," he answered with a smile, and she would have liked mothing more than to stand there and look into his eyes for hours on end, but war was upon them and her Council had gathered already.
Still, she inched closer to his face, and just as their lips were about to meet they were interrupted.
KNOCK. KNOCK.
And a servant knocked on the door.
"Your grace, the Council is ready for you," and she wanted to burn him down for that interruption, as she closed her eyes and pulled back.
"I want to kill him," she whispered, as Galen smiled.
"We have waited five years. We can wait a few more hours," he whispered, and she nodded.
"I will be there," she said, and pulled away.
"Come with me then," and he raised a brow, yet said nothing as he followed her to the Council chambers. An entire council had been assembled already, and she recognised some familiar faces, and some new ones.
She spared them no glance, as she walked to the head of the table, and the lords all rose at her entrance, though she spotted quite a few of them eyeing Galen.
She walked to the Head of the table, and yet she did not sit down as she turned towards the guards.
"Bring me another chair," she ordered, and there were a few empty chairs to her side, and the men were all stilled.
"You..."
"Chair, now!" she ordered, and finally a guard moved a chair was brought down and placed beside her own.
She sat first, and pulled Galen down to the seat besides her, and the intent was now clear to all of the men gathered here. If they thought her malleable then they were wrong.
Daemon, she may not be. But Gael would never let these men rule over her.
"Sit, and let us now speak of war..."
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