As Drogon's flames descended upon her, Rhaena had exhaled in acceptance and awaited the sensation of heat burning into her flesh in a sharp burst before it would all be over. Instead, she suddenly felt a presence surrounding her, one that was familiar yet as if far away behind a incorporeal veil that she could not touch. Her mind grew blank as warmth surrounded her gentle, like an embrace. It felt nothing like she imagined burning alive would, yet as her mind quietened and seemingly drifted to the edge of her conscious reason, Rhaena found she did not care. All thought and all feeling was pushed down and replaced by something else which seemed to take over her body, the foreign presence pressing itself into her body as easily as one would pull on a cloak. At that moment, Rhaena had not understood what it was or what it meant. It was only after Drogon's flames had died away and she had opened her eyes to find herself surrounded by her own fire which enshrouded her protectively did she realise that something had interfered with her intention to die alongside her sister. She caught sight of Jon staring at her, seeing milky white eyes which he had only seen before in the far north when he had met his first warg. It took a moment, but Jon seemed to make the connection purely upon instinct. "Bran." The whisper drew Rhaena's attention, blinking at him blankly before a heart wrenching wail broke free.

"Bran! How could you?! Let me die, let me die with her!" But clearly Bran, who had been watching over everything as it occurred all the way in Winterfell, had no intention of allowing Rhaena to die. "Dracarys! Dracarys! DRACARYS!" Now screaming, Rhaena all but begged Drogon and Rhaegal to end her life but neither of them answered. Underneath her the Iron Throne had grown bright red and hot, groaning as the swords began to soften and melt around her. Only her own flames protected her, summoned by Bran to shield her from death and burning. Seeing that the throne was beginning to melt from the dragonfire, Jon tore forwards and seized Rhaena forcibly, dragging her away even as she fought and screeched, attempting to tear away from him whilst clutching her sister against her. Eventually Jon had no other option but to duck and grasp both by their legs and haul them over his shoulder, blinded by his own tears as he did so. Rhaena pounded at his back and struck at him however she could, demanding that he leave her to die but Jon refused. He had lost Daenerys, he could not lose Rhaena too. So after setting her down and lowering Daenerys gently to the floor, Jon had grasped Rhaena by her arms and pulled her against him, trapping him against his chest and allowed her to continue striking and beating him as she sobbed, until all the energy she had left was spent. He cradled her, sinking to the ground and held her in his arms as if he would never let go, watching as Drogon mournfully nudged at Daenerys's unmoving body.

Above them, Rhaegal gave another sorrowful cry, exhaling hot air over them before giving a rippling snarl as his head then lifted, looking at the Iron Throne which was beginning to cool, the intense red of heated metal gradually dimming. Both dragons bared their teeth and spread their wings, turning their anger and rage upon the throne which had been the cause of so much bloodshed and grief, and ultimately, their mother's death. Twin columns of dragonfire burst into life and crashed over the Iron Throne, where the metal finally became liquid and the severe edges of the countless swords were lost as the throne became an amorphous pool of molten metal, spilling down the steps in a river of flaming red. Liquid dragonfire. Exhaling a deep breath as he continued to hold Rheana tightly in his arms, he felt her fingers dig into his flesh as they both watched the Iron Throne be erased from existence. When Drogon crooned once again, their eyes turned to find him shifting aside and delicately, oh so delicately, curling his claw underneath the fragile body of his mother as if afraid to disturb her rest. Taking hold of Daenerys, Drogon looked back only once, fixing his eyes upon Rhaena as she breathed raggedly. Emotions flowed through her from Drogon, their magic conversing one to another until finally, she nodded. "Go." With a soft hiss, Drogon turned away and took flight, spreading his great wings and vanishing into the snow ridden clouds, bearing Daenerys Targaryen away.

Once the room was clear, Rhaegal carefully climbed down from his perch and made soft, comforting sounds towards Rhaena, nudging at her tentatively until she placed her hand upon his snout as he lay down and curled his tail around both the small two-legged beings. For a long while none of them moved. Having calmed a little, Rhaena lay against Jon as he rubbed her shoulder, both of them staring into nothingness. Eventually they would be found, there was no escaping that if they merely stayed put, but neither of them had the will to move. So they continued to remain still, drowning in their grief, until finally Jon summoned the will to speak. "We'll tell them I did it." As his voice filled the open air, Rhaena at first did not understand him. Then she turned quickly in order to look at him, face straining in protest.

"No, Jon. You cannot take the blame for me. This is my sin to bear." But Jon would hear no argument, shaking his head as he gathered Rhaena up once more and cradled her against his chest, burying her completely in his embrace.

"They will need you to lead them."

"I do not want to lead them."

"You must, otherwise there will be chaos, more death. This way, at least you can keep the peace." Fresh rounds of tears and sorrow welled up within Rhaena, burying her fingers into whatever hold on Jon she could grasp. "I was going to do it. It's not really a lie if we tell them I was the one who killed her. Only you and I know, so we just need to keep it between us."

"Jon…Jon…I cannot let you do this." Managing a rueful smile, Jon drew away so that he could look upon Rhaena's face. With tender touches, he began to rub and smooth away the trails of tears, ash and grime from her, searching her features and studying her as he never had done before. He counted her lashes and measured the slope of her nose, defined the shape of her jaw and compared the shade of her lips to dusky roses. In her he saw no similarity to Daenerys. They had been sisters. Twins. But they were each their own person, and Jon loved them both. He may be Rhaegar Targaryen's son, but he was also Eddard Stark's, and it was his duty to protect his family. Rhaena was his family, and he would gladly take the fall for her and face dishonour in order to ensure that she was kept safe. Eddard Stark had done the very same for his own sister, and since Rhaena was the last living connection Jon had to the family he had never known, he was all the more adamant to preserve it.

"You must." Reaching forwards, Jon pressed a firm kiss to her brow. "Let me do this for you, Rhae."

"Jon…"

"Promise me. Promise me you'll not tell them the truth. Tell them I did it. Promise me." Too grief stricken and exhausted to protest, Rhaena found herself blindly agreeing to Jon's request. She sank back against him and closed her eyes, letting the agony of loss wash over her until it pressed her into a darkened sleep. That was how they were found by the Grey Worm and the Unsullied. Rhaena unconscious in Jon's arms with Rhaegal curled around them, and when Jon lifted his head to meet Grey Worm's dark gaze, he announced that the queen was dead, and that he had killed her.