*Music to listen to: Game of Thrones Season 6 OST - 13. Reign
Another tremble, another sound of the catapults pulling stones and fire loose on Meereen. With each tremble Ireyne cringes, slightly bunching over as she helps Danaerys into her clothes.
" You are not used to war, are you?"
-"Where I come from, the north, it was always relatively peaceful, Your Grace, I'm not used to actual besieging, except reading it in stories."
" It is fine, you will see. Come, Missandei will bring you to safety." Outside the young chocolate coloured woma smiles and Ireyne faintly smiles back. Her curls bounce around her head like a crown and again Ireyne thinks how kind and beautiful Missandei looks. If only Greyworm would take the chance to court her..
Rhaenyra sighs. The pulling of catapults has almost become monotonous. Tyrion and Danaerys are arguing what to do. Then Missandei arrives back. " I've brought Ireyne to the selters, she should be fine."
Rhaenyra perks up at this, her attention on the young woman. -" What shelter?"
" That in the east of the city. " Rhaenyra's eyes widen. -" The east? The sons of harpy are coming through there! I have to warn her and the inhabitants."
- "Rhaenyra!" Danaerys screams after her as she takes of running. Yet she doesn't hear. The oldest Targaryen, runs and runs, feet pounding on the street, hair swinging left and right.
Soon enough she can hear screaming and low and behold , The sonq of harpy have decided to come wreak havoc. They are approaching a young woman and her child that she keeps against her side.
Rhaenyra turns, no Unsullied in sight to help them and so she searches for a way to help the woman. A large ladder stands against a house, yet, filled to the brim with pots full of earth and stone. Now, with the houses blackened by ashes, it is unsteady and so Rhaenyra pushes her full weight into it. The wood creaks and then the ladder starts moving.
Before the masked men approaching the woman can say anything, the wooden structure knocks him in the back. Taking him down.
- " Thank you, your highness." The woman sobs. -" It's fine, go and bring yourself to safety." The mother nods, brown skin gleaming in the sun and then she hefts her baby son on her arms and runs away.
It is chaos in the streets and Rhaenyra looks everywhere, stops people, but no one had seen Ireyne. She hears a familiar cry and over her in a flash , wings batting greatly, appears Drogon, flying over her head and bathing everything in shadow.
She can hear his roar and hears the thump of his coming down from the sky. For a moment she looks up, purple eyes focusing on where Danaerys is and then she turns, ready to leave and find Ireyne.
And then she hears a sound that warms her blood, the three dragons in the sky, answering each others' call.
Smoke is thick in the streets and Rhaenyra doesn't know how long she's been searching only that she can seen nothing. She coughs, hand before her mouth and blinks, eyes watery from the smoke. She finds herself in an open place, a market of some kind. However, there is no sound, and the market is too eerily silent for this time of the day. Especially with the masters attacking Meereen.
-" Ireyne?" But the oldest siblings' call remains unanswered. For a moment all is silent but there is in a flash the unmistakable sound of swords being drawn. There are dozens of them, masked men and their helpers, face drawn in glee.
Rhaenyra realizes they have come for her.
Rhaenyra's white-silver hair is indication enough of her bloodline and family. She knows what a blow it will be to Danaerys should something happen to her or worse should she die.
Her mind, searches for a way out, now that panic has not yet taken over her logic. Unfortunately there is no way out. Rhaenyra grabs hold of the small knife in her shirt, but knows it will not be much. Not against these bastards.
-" We have you now, my Lady." The men hiss, preening in glee. Her heart, her very mind and soul scream for help, anyone, anything and then...suddenly, she hears it, seemingly something that answers. It is a notion, an intuition on the inside and it is here. For a moment she wonders what the feeling is and then she hears the angry roar of a dragon, loud, filling the skies like thunder and she sees him.
Vyserion has come to her rescue.
Large, almost fully grown now, a cream almost golden colour with reddish hues in his scales, his body, fins and his wings. Black vertical stripes run on the sides of his neck, followed by the light reddish almost orange and golden hues. The below side of his neck is the light beige-cream colour and large spike-like horns, the same beige-light sand colour protrude from his head. Around them are other spike-like scales and she can't help but think how handsome he is.
Vyserion, like a bringer of chaos, arrives, his head bowed forward and his wings beating rapidly and strongly as he comes flying closer and closer. He bows slightly backward and she feels it before she knows it and then a see of fire spits from his mouth, burning everything and everyone below.
She jilts back ,down on her knees and she can already hear others coming, her enemies voices multiplying, and as they arrive, she knows their burned comrades will not deter them .
But then there he is, Vyserion, and with a roar he drops down heavy on a house, that crumbles beneath his weight. Wings spread he roars to the sky, loud angry, victorious and then he jumps down and he is right in front of her.
A cry escapes one of the men as he comes running, sword raises but her dragon is quicker and Vyserion moves quickly with his winged arms forward, body and neck moving threateningly. He opens his mouth and tears the man's head straight off. Rhaenyra feels queezy for a moment but she has no time to react because more are coming.
The oldest Targaren gasps, hair hanging in her face as Vyserion brutally attacks the men around her, not giving them any chance to attain her. And then he turns to her for a moment. She isn't sure what to do until he bows his head almost around her and then spits fire to the nearest soldiers arriving.
When he back up, until his body is beside her and he bows slightly down she understands. Vyserions' teeth show, he growls, tail swishing as she scrambles up and then limps to his side.
Rhaenyra steps up next to him, worries her lip and then touches his side hesitantly. Uneasy, she breathes hard and then steps up his left wing, like she has seen Danaerys do, and starts walking forward, hands stretched out as she hesitantly puts step by step, hunched over. Then when she is high enough, she puts her hands where his wings sprout from his body, hesitates for a moment and then moves her hand forward, trembling and takes hold of the spikes protruding from next to his fins. She walks forward, until her other hands touches the other side and grasps the spikes on his back. Then with trembling legs, Rhaenyra sinks to her knees, positioning her legs on either side of Vyserion until she is seated right where the fins stops, snug in between his wings. She lays on his back; upperbody slightly upwards so she can see. She grasps hold of the spikes between the moving fins with trembling fingers.
Vyserion's body still moves , breathing deep, fins in his neck slightly moving ad he still growls menacingly at the soldiers coming near.
Then as soon as he feels she is seated right enough the golden dragon turns and starts mving his large winged arms forward, another roar coming from his mouth, loud and low, startling everyone around him as as he starts taking up speed. He walks faster and faster head and neck moving left and right, crushing the debris beneath his feet and tail and then Rhaenyra tumbles a little forward as his wings spread wide and he starts to go into a canter and then he is running , beating his wings greatly and ten with a small jump he is in the air. Te world becomes smaller and smaller beneath her as as Vyserion's wings take up height.
Rhaenyra breathes deeply, heart pounding as Vyserion roars his victory over the city.
He flies faster and then they are at the gates of Meereen and she sees the Dothraki arriving , led by Daario and the bloodriders and Vyserios bow forward and flies low, roaring low in his throat, startling everyone below. His clawed feet are pulled up lazily as he swerves lower and lower, until he just barely touches Daario with his feet, but an inch away from his horse and hair.
The man turns, angry, yet he grits his teeth for he knows better then to annoy a dragon. He watches in anger and unbridled fury when Rhaenyra looks back at him, moving with the body of Vyserion as he takes up height. A smirk plays on her lips.