They met the Lannister host upon the Kingsroad still returning from Highgarden. Their pace was slowed under the weight of the harvest and gold, which turned in favour of the Targaryen forces which now charged towards them. As Rhaena flew upon Rhaegal, the promise she had made to Tyrion rang in her ears. She could picture him even now, standing before her just before she was to climb up upon Rhaegal, could see the fear and desperation in his eyes. In the end, Tyrion Lannister had not even needed to speak. Rhaena understood. 'I will save him if I can.' She vowed before turning away. Jaime Lannister. No other would have been entrusted by Cersei to retrieve the Tyrell fortune and harvest, and so Rhaena fully expected to see him upon the battlefield. She clutched tightly at Rhaegal, hearing him as he roared alongside his brother and their voices carried to the army below as they flew overhead the Dothraki hoards Daenerys had collected before departing Meereen. There was nothing more terrifying than a pair of dragons flying above a hoard of Dothraki. They had no fear of death and looked utterly wild. Rhaena felt pity for the men they now faced. Bearing down upon them, Drogon swept forwards and released a short but powerful blast of dragon -fire at Daenerys's command, tearing through the first rank of soldiers as Rhaena gave a sharp yell and tilted her body so that Rhaegal could feel her movement. He dipped his wing and tilted with her, steering off towards the left flank of the army where she then shouted for him to attack. He did so. With fire and blood.
The Dothraki had their orders. They were not to burn or destroy the harvest or steal the gold. Any horses of the enemy they wanted they could keep, and soldiers they fought they could kill, but the provisions must be kept intact and the gold retrieved from the enemy. The Dothraki obeyed their Khaleesi, satisfied enough that they could take the horses and whatever trophies from their enemies they wanted. Rhaena took little pleasure in this. Flying overhead upon Rhaegal, she was reminded of the battle against Ramsay Snow. That had been entirely different. She had been fighting to reclaim Winterfell for Robb, Sansa and Jon, to save Rickon and unite the North. This was just butchery. Part of her wanted to call to her sister to stop, to offer them the chance to surrender. Her tongue stayed still, knowing that her sister would not hear her…neither heed her even if she could. So instead she kept Rhaegal from using his flames any further, other than to strike the ground and herd the Lannister soldiers away from the wagons, having him skim the ground and use his massive size and tail to sweep away at the lines whilst she fired arrows from his back, finding her confidence and balance upon him as he flew steady and straight to run down his back and fire a volley. Each arrow found it's mark, Rhaena sensing the shift of every muscle Rhaegal possessed, judging the wind and their direction, the speed of their movements and fired. In truth, most likely it was simply pure luck, but Rhaena liked to think that skill had a part to do with it. At least the arrow was not the same as burning to death.
It was when Drogon began attacking the wagons himself that Rhaena wheeled Rhaegal around in order to fly after them, shouting over the wind before feeling her magic surge and rise, fixating her mind upon Drogon and forcing him to stop, calling to him through their blood bond to leave the wagons alone. They needed them. Drogon snarled as he turned his head, bright eye staring directly at Rhaena before peeling away with a great strike of his wings and did not attack the supplies again. Only a few had suffered. Rhaena prayed it would not make all that great a difference. Taking Rhaegal around for another pass, he roared threateningly, baring his teeth for all to see and it was enough to make the Lannister men drop their arms and flee. Soon enough their entire line was broken and all of them were either fleeing for their lives or dying under a Dothraki blade. Some who had taken dragon fire directly had dragged themselves to the lake in order to cast themselves into the water to quench the fire that ravaged their flesh. The field was now afire with smoke and ash, thick pillars rising upwards so that even Rhaena could not see clearly below, keeping Rhaegal securely under control as to not accidentally set fire or attack their own allies. Shrieks and screams rose with the smoke, harassing Rhaena's ears until she thought they would burst. Not even the sound of the wind as Rhaegal flew was enough to drown them out.
Something swift and dark flew without warning, flying out of Rhaena's vision as quickly as it appeared until she had snapped her head around to see it fly over Drogon and Daenerys. A large bolt of some kind. Following the line the bolt had travelled, Rheana brought Rhaegal to a half in the air, his giant wings beating against the smoke and sky so that she could look. Just beyond the canopy of smoke stood a wagon, miraculously untouched, with a strange contraption upon it. From the distance Rhaena could not distinguish who manned it, but from what she could tell of the contraption itself it was something like a giant crossbow which could be loaded with heavy iron bolts. At close range, perhaps it would be enough to kill a dragon if the bolt struck a weak point. Before Rhaena could determine who stood at the machine, Drogon's great black shape blurred past with a gust of wind which almost tore Rhaena from her seat upon Rhaegal's back, her dragon shrieking in irritation as he flapped in order to righten himself before flying upwards as Drogon dove. It was only when Rhaena was closer did she begin to see more clearly. The man was someone she thought she recognised, though with the smoke and ash in her face, it was not certain. All the same, if she were right, then she had every reason to suddenly feel a burst of terror crash through her. "DROGON! DAOR!" Screaming against the wind and the sounds of battle, Rhaena begged Drogon not to attack even as Daenerys commanded him to let loose his dragon fire. With the conflict of commands, Drogon hesitated a moment too long, and before anyone knew what had happened, the giant arrow bolt had struck his right wing and lodged deeply into the muscle there. He screamed and Rhaena felt his pain with a gasp, clutching her own shoulder as her magic had forged a powerful connection through her desperation and fear. Drogon tumbled from the skies in a mass of wings and scales before managing to righten himself, thinking of his rider and mother upon his back and wishing no harm to befall her. Bringing himself up over the water, Drogon fired upon the contraption which had caused him pain with an anger only a dragon could feel.
Rhaegal also screeched as he wheeled around sharply, turning in order to face his brother as Rhaena craned her neck to see, but everything below and around the giant crossbow went up in flames. The breath caught in her throat. She must have been wrong. She prayed she had been wrong. No matter what, she could not bear to think that the man she had thought to have seen might now be dead, burned beyond recognition and little more than ash. Sucking in a deep breath, Rhaena had Rhaegal fly once more in a circle over his brother, spouting columns of flame upon any soldiers that attempted to approach with their feeble weapons and delusions of glory. She did not burn them, but she ensured that they would not be able to get to Drogon or her sister, defending their backs until she was able to turn back. Rhaena looked in enough time to see two riders galloping hard. One was aimed at her sister with a spear in hand, the other was flying at the other rider. They collided just as Drogon opened his great maw and bellowed with flame upon them, the riders disappearing behind the veil of fire. "Land Rhaegal, hurry!" Pressing her hand firmly against his neck in the signal to land, Rhaegal sensed his rider's urgency and did as he was bid, diving down and settling upon the ground where Rhaena all but flung herself from his neck as his tail swept away a wreckage of a wagon from her path to clear her way, her pace not once breaking as she bolted for the water.
She waded until she was waist deep, looking for someone to breach the surface, hoping that they had hit the water before the flames had struck them. One had been Jaime Lannister. No one could mistake that man even through smoke and fire. The other…the other she did not dare name until she was certain. Her jaw was tightly clenched, staring at the water's surface which had now settled to look for a disturbance, an indication that someone was about to break the surface, but there was nothing. Not even a bubble. "Rhaegal!" Casting her voice to the air, Rhaena turned with a fury in her stride as she waded from the water with her hand gripping the hilt of her sword tightly. She did not even spare a look at her sister, all that mattered was that she kept her word and discovered the identity of the man who had shot down Drogon. Hearing her call, Rhaegal immediately put down his head for her to climb onto his back, waiting until she was settled before taking flight once more. Although the shore of the lake was calm, the river it fed had a strong current. If they were clever, they would allow the water to carry them away downstream. Rhaena scanned the water for signs of bodies, for at least Jaime Lannister would be noticeable in his ostentatious gold gilded armour. She hoped. She prayed.
Flash. A light caught her eye, quick and bright but certain. Pressing her hand against Rhaegal to make him halt, Rhaegal brought himself up and turned his head slightly in order to regard his rider, sensing her unease and anxiousness. Feeling her hand move once more to ask him to land, Rhaegal did so as quietly and lightly as possible, settling himself upon the ground where he could smell the fresh water and the grass, the strong scents of the forest which were all strange and new to him. He rather liked their scents. They intrigued him, and so Rhaegal turned towards the forest which lay behind them and pushed his way inside, breaking down a tree in order to explore as many new scents as he could find. His rider was safe. She was strong and capable, and her fire would protect her. If not, all she need do was call for him upon the horn she carried at her hip if her sharp tooth and curved claw she also carried failed her. Rhaegal's tail vanished like a writhing snake into the woods, and Rhaena hid her smile as she turned instead to the bank of the river where two shapes were pulling themselves free of the water. Quietly, she approached them as one berated the other. One was cast in golden armour, washed clean from ash and soot from the river, whilst the other wore plain, boiled leather armour. Now she was certain. Especially when she heard him speak in that drawling, crude tone of his which had not changed since she last recalled hearing it. "Listen to me, cunt. 'Till I get what I'm owed, a dragon doesn't get to kill you. You don't get to kill you. Only I get to kill you." Ser Bronn of the Blackwater, miraculously survived and still cussing and grumbling about his payment. Rhaena should not have been surprised. So overwhelmed with their defeat and their experience, neither man heard the prowl of the woman who continued to approach them step by step, hand resting upon her sword ready to draw it.
"That was only two of them, and one didn't do all that much destroying. She has another. If she decides to use them, to really use them…"
"You're fucked." Bronn finished for Jaime as he caught his breath back. Dragging that pompous arse with all his armour out of the water had taken all of his strength and nearly killed him more than once. There was not enough gold in the world to pay for all Bronn had to endure.
"Don't you mean we're fucked?"
"No, I do not. Dragons are where our partnership ends. I'm not going to be around when those things start spitting fire on King's Landing." Sounding still shaken, Jaime Lannister realised that he had to tell Cersei. Not only about the dragons, but about the fact that he had lost the gold and the harvest of the Tyrell family. The gold was meant to pay off the kingdom's debts, and the harvest to provide food to the starving of King's Landing. He dreaded seeing the rage and disappointment on her face. She had entrusted this task to him. Now he would have to return to her empty handed. "Best well jump back in that river." Bronn muttered before turning himself in order to get up, rising to his knee until suddenly realising that they were not alone. His hand jumped to grasp one of his knives but the ring of metal being drawn from its sheathe rang through the air and before he could even fully grasp the hilt of his knife, a blade tip was pressed under the jut of his chin. Bronn froze in place, cursing under his breath as Jaime turned quickly in order to look, clumsily reaching for his sword as the sunlight obscured the figure before them.
"I would not do that, unless you wish to lose the other hand." Rhaena warned, though her voice was somewhat unrecognisable to the two men before her. They frowned and blinked, squinting against the sunlight until she sighed and tilted her head, allowing her head to block the gleaming streams of light so that they could see her face. Both lost their tongues and their wits, staring open mouthed at Rhaena who was utterly spotless in her finely made armour, holding a Valyrian steel blade with a coronet of silver upon her head, adorned with amethysts and black diamonds. Never had she looked fiercer, more radiant, or as powerful. She had fled King's Landing a small, broken thing. The woman before them now held none of the meekness of her past, but had seemingly been forged entirely anew. Both could do nothing but stare. "Ser Bronn of the Blackwater." Light toned and smirking, Rhaena dropped the tip of her blade from Bronn's throat in order to seize hold of him by the hauberk, grasping him firmly as she brought her mouth to his and planted her lips where she kissed him fervently, stroking his mouth and tongue with her own whilst Bronn felt his mind completely wash itself clean of thought. Jaime simply stared at them both, uncertain of how to react until his hand crept slowly to his sword hilt. Quick as a snake, Rhaena thrust her sword towards him and pointed it warningly, one eye watching him cautiously until finally she broke free and stepped back, grinning. "I believe I vowed the next time we met; I would give you a proper kiss. Does this suffice, ser? Is my debt now repaid?" Overpowered by such a kiss and considering the circumstances, Bronn could only make a wordless sound as his head had not yet recovered its senses. Rhaena laughed. Freely and lightly. Jaime could not recall ever hearing the little dragon laughing ever in the past. It seemed strange to hear it now.
"What will you do with us?" He finally had the sense to demand, rising to his knees and climbing to his feet whilst seizing hold of Bronn who continued to blink himself awake, dragging him to his feet also. "I'm afraid even without my dominant hand, you will find I am more than capable of defeating a rebellious little upstart such as yourself." Now Rhaena turned away from Bronn and looked to Jaime, still full of amusement. With her eyes roaming over him, her brow then quirked.
"I think I might take you by surprise, Ser Jaime. It has been many years since we last met…and I have learned a thing or two concerning the sword."
"As I see. A good blade." He looked down at the Valyrian steel in her hand, noticing the dragonhead pommel. "Where did you find it?"
"It was a gift." The jewels in her coronet glinted whenever she moved her head, the gilded scales of her armour seemingly rippling with each movement. Considering the two men before her, Rhaena finally gave a decisive smile and sheathed her blade. "But I have no interest in fighting with a one-armed man, or an old friend. I am glad you are alive, Bronn. Was I right? Were you the one I saw manning that contraption?"
"Aye, it were me." Bronn finally spoke to her, though he had to lick his lips to moisten them before doing so as they still tingled from the force of her kiss. In truth he had never meant what he had asked of her, Bronn had believed for certain that they would never meet again, and yet all these years later she had kept her word, stupid as it might have been. In his mind, Bronn still imagined Rhaena Targaryen to be a small and frail creature who often required rescuing from danger and attackers, who would cough up blood if she walked too far and whom he had rocked and cradled in his arms when she had sobbed through a fever that had almost stolen her life. Rhaena Targaryen was no longer that girl, and Bronn did not know how to take her. She had named him friend, but that did not necessarily mean she would spare him because of it. Many things could change in several years, Rhaena may not be the same sweet tempered and kind hearted girl he had once known. At the very least, she wasn't pointing a sword at him. Jaime, however, foolhardy as he was, dragged his sword free and levelled it against Rhaena's neck even as Bronn grasped hold of his arm, natural reflexes causing him to leap to Rhaena's aid, though he needn't have bothered. A low, guttural and admittedly terrifying snarl ripped through the tranquil surroundings. A shadow moved beyond the trees.
Where Rhaegal's body of green and bronze had melded perfectly with the shades of sun spattered trees and earth, he now stalked slowly from within the folds of the forest to emerge with his golden eyes blazing in outrage and threat, jaw hanging low to reveal the curved teeth which could easily rip trees out from the ground all the way to the roots. Jaime and Bronn staggered backwards, watching the dragon creep forwards with alarming stealth and quiet, wings tightly folded against its body before they were free of the trees and they immediately stretched to increase his size, rising upwards until he was directly above them. Jaime wisely lowered his sword. "He will not hurt you," Rhaena promised them as she held out her hand where Rhaegal lowered his jaw against her palm, which was now barely bigger than his smallest scale. He and his brothers continued to grow larger and larger, seemingly by the hour. "Not while I am here. I give you my word you have nothing to fear from me."
"Are we not your prisoners?" Jaime challenged, his mouth running away before what few wits he possessed could tell him to remain silent. "I would expect you would want me dead at the very least. After all. I put a sword through your father's back. My sister tormented you throughout your childhood. Were our positions reversed, I would not hesitate to either kill you on the spot or drag you back to my sister." Bronn hissed at Jaime to shut up, calling him a fucking idiot who clearly did not want to continue living. Rhaena remained unaffected, however, hushing her dragon gently as her eyes surveyed Jaime carefully. His tongue darted out to moisten his lips which had gone completely dry, eyes flitting constantly between her and the dragon and was unable to keep from shifting. Lowering her hand from Rhaegal, Rhaena approached cautiously, maintaining her locked gaze upon Jaime until they were stood directly before one another. She was certainly taller than her remembered. Where before he had barely reached his waist, Rhaena now stood almost eye level to him. Any taller and he would have to look up at her as he did with Brienne of Tarth.
"I am not going to kill you, Ser Jaime. Nor am I going to take you prisoner," she decided flatly, turning away from him in order to return to Rhaegal. Jaime stared at her blankly, unable to understand what was happening and rather stupidly asked her why. "Why?" Mirth danced across her expression. "Because my sister would kill you, Ser Jaime. She would kill you because you are the one who, as you reminded me, murdered our father. You are the brother of the woman who is occupying the throne my sister wants and no amount of value you possess would stop her from using you against Cersei. Your death would ruin her, yes, but then you would be worthless. Admittedly you make an invaluable hostage, but as I said. You would not live long. Especially with that mouth of yours." To this, Jaime could not deny he had a bad habit of speaking without thinking. Thinking had never been his strong suit. "Additionally…I made a promise to someone we both care about. I promised him to see you safe, and as of right now, safe is far away from my sister. So go. I will not stop you. It is enough that I know you are alive, and it will satisfy him too." Jaime stared openly at Rhaena, one name springing to mind as it was the only one that made any sense.
"Tyrion." She nodded her head.
"Tyrion." Agreeing softly, Rhaena looked one last time at Bronn. "If you chose to, you could come with me Bronn. I will make certain to pay you well." Bronn had near enough had his fill of people attempting to buy him. As much as he wanted gold, he was now caught between two houses who would no doubt maul one another to death which meant he would likely die in the crossfire. Still, he felt torn. Tempted even. If he went with Rhaena back to Tyrion and her sister, he would be on the side which had three dragons. They looked most likely to win. On the other hand…Bronn begrudgingly admitted to himself he'd grown rather fond of Jaime as he had his brother. These damn Lannisters would be the death of him. Seeing his confliction, Rhaena chuckled richly. "Either way, I will ensure that you are given immunity no matter the outcome of this war. Do your best not to die, and after my sister claims the throne, I will make certain that you receive everything that you are owed and more." Settled by her words, Bronn felt his usual cockiness returning to him.
"What if I asked for something specific?" He questioned as he watched Rhaena climb up onto the dragon's back, warily watching the beast as it continued to eye them.
"Are you requesting another kiss, good ser?"
"What if I wanted more than a kiss?" A grin took hold even in the face of a dragon, watching Rhaena as she lay herself against Rhaegal's neck and smirked down at him rather sultrily. A man could not help but appreciate the view of a gorgeous woman with a smile that could con him out of his fortune. "What if I asked you to come my bed and to fuck me good and proper?" Rhaena bared her teeth in a broad grin whilst Rhaegal did the same, though his bared fangs were accompanied by a menacing snarl as his head turned to snap at Bronn who balked and reared back quickly away from the dragon's maw as Rhaena laughed.
"Then I shall have to consider your request, Ser Bronn of the Blackwater." Inclining her head with grace, Rhaegal bore Rhaena away with cascading winds battering against both men who lifted their arms to shield their faces. It was only long after the dragon and his princess had left, during the long walk back to King's Landing did Jaime realise that Rhaena had addressed him by his name during their entire exchange. Not once did she refer to him as the Kingslayer. It then occurred to him that, over the course of her life, Rhaena Targaryen had perhaps been the only person alive to have called him only by his name. The realisation was unsettling. Uncertain of how he was going to explain everything to his sister, Jaime sighed heavily and wondered if he had indeed gone mad. At least, not as mad as Bronn. What kind of fool asks a woman on the back of a dragon to come to his bed? Jaime had almost struck him on principle. Perhaps they were as mad as each other. After the day they'd just had, Jaime would not have been surprised if this was the case. Whilst they walked, Rhaena flew, smiling all the way. She stretched her arms and felt the wind against her as Rhaegal carried her back to where her sister and Drogon waited with Tyrion and a cluster of Dothraki, facing Lannister prisoners who had chosen to bend the knee. All but two, it would appear. Frowning, Rhaena watched as Rhaegal approached, the scene rapidly growing before her as she watched two men, one young and one old, be brought and made to stand before Drogon as Daenerys watched stoically.
The intention of her sister became abundantly clear to Rhaena even before the clarity had formed words in her head. A coldness stabbed through her heart, the sharp sting of horror as her hand jumped to press against Rhaegal's neck. He dove immediately, her magic roaring to life as their minds melded almost indistinguishably from the other, until her desires became his. Rhaegal bellowed as Drogon answered his mother's command to incinerate the two-legged beings before him. What did it matter? The earth was crawling with them, two less would not matter. However even as he bellowed with the fires stoked within his breath, a huge shape cut across the sky and landed with such a crash it sent many sprawling upon the ground. The two men below were felled in an instant, sent flying onto their backs to stare up at a belly of scales as fire rippled around them in bright orange and gold streams. Rhaegal bowed his head against the onslaught of fire even as Drogon recognised his brother and snapped his jaw shut, snarling indignantly with his tail shuddering angrily. Answering the challenge, Rhaegal bared his teeth and hissed, lifting his wings threateningly as Rhaena gasped for air, fire dancing across her body. She too had been engulfed by Drogon's flames, and it was only because her own had leaped from within and shielded her in a cloak of fire which burned coolly against her skin and fought against that of Drogon she was unharmed. Her armour remained untarnished, gleaming brightly in the sunlight as Rhaegal crouched protectively over the two men, daring anyone, even his brother, to take them.
Recovering her breath, Rhaena slowly lifted her gaze from where she trembled from the aftereffects of the magic and flames, feeling them quieten within her. She looked first at Tyrion who looked just as horrified as she felt, saw his wide eyes and fearful expression. She looked to the kneeling men who were cowering away and shivering, some staring in horrified fascination whilst others could not even bring themselves to raise their heads. Rhaena looked at Drogon, sensing his rage and fury as he hissed and snarled until she reached for him with her magic and quelled his anger, hushing him gently until he calmed and went silent. Last of all, Rhaena looked to her own sister, Daenerys. What she found were eyes of outrage, gleaming brighter and more fiercely even than Drogon's. A silence fell upon all present as Rhaena began to understand the gravity of her actions. She had openly defied her sister, the queen, before those who had been made to bend the knee. Now she looked as if she wanted nothing more than to burn Rhaena alive too. It was the first true moment that Rhaena saw the evidence of a madness in her sister, her beloved Daenerys, which she had not known to be there before. A madness obsessed with fire. Merciless. It was now only a thread, but Rhaena began to fear for what was now to come. She had tried to deny it, especially in herself, but there was a fragility of a Targaryen mind which easily snapped. Her sister was now beginning to reveal the signs of it, and as Rhaena held her gaze with impassive coldness, she knew that there would be no going back from this.
Their sisterhood was no more.