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In the Shadow of the Throne

The Final Sunset

A week later…

The days had started melting together in a flurry of grief and resignation. She would have lost track of how many days they had spent in their cell, had Aegon not meticulously taken the task to make a small groove on a daily basis on the wall under the window where a leak had left the putty damp.

Whenever she closed her eyes, the nightmares assaulted her; when she woke up, memories crashed over her. She could only assure Aegon that he would be safe but she could not make him believe it. He believed that they would both die and when she was in the clutches of the darkest despair, she believed it, too.

In a strange way, they had started feeling almost cosy in their cell. They could now walk around it in the darkness without hitting the stool, the table, or their own straw-mattresses that now felt comfortable against their back in their hardness. The stench from the bucket in the corner no longer choked them and the stench of their own unwashed bodies, they could no longer tell. They knew when the guards at their doors would be changed.

Rhaenyra had no hope of escaping and she had no desire to, either. If it was up to her, she would be pleased to stretch on the straw-mattress and wait for the end. But if the chance came, she would take it because of Aegon.

Whenever he managed to sink into an exhausted slumber, she would stand near the window, look through the bars at the deserted courtyard and retrace her life once again. All those lords bowing to the little girl and uttering words she could not yet understand fully. Her father's hand, guiding hers toward Syrax' yellow scales. Her astonishment at realizing that the scales that had been wet at her reaching out for her newly hatched dragon had dried completely by the time her hand reached them. Lyonel Strong's patient smile at one or another hasty thing she did. And I did plenty of those. Lyonel had known life in a way that only came with age. All those rumours about her being unfaithful to him – how stupid! She had loved him because although he had been much older, he had been also strong and vigorous, his touch had roused her inexperienced body in a way she had never thought possible and women would always love him who could caress them skillfully. Rhaenyra had always thought that handsomeness resided in strength, not a smooth face. The humiliation of her first childbirth bed Since she was a child, she had been listening to women whispering horrifying tales of their own hard ordeals, so she had been prepared that the pangs of childbirth would be violent. No one had thought to warn her that they would be humiliating, as well – and humiliation was a thing that had been more unfathomable to her than any amount of suffering. Baelon's birth had left her… humbled. The fear she had felt when they had placed the newborn on her chest, still crying, and her horror that he might die. Her fear for him had come before her love. The mix of pain and fear at finding herself a widow with two small children and a third on its way, deprived of Lyonel's support and the warmth of his touch. All the men that had followed him in her bed – all of them young and dashing, no one with Lyonel's strength. No one but Criston Cole but then, she had been too young and inexperienced to realize it. The unusual arrangements she had reached with Gaemon. The night she had fled King's Landing… Baelon dying in front of her… Aemon falling down… Aegyl's head on the spike... Rhaenys jumping to her death… And then again: her father, Syrax, Lyonel, Criston Cole, Alicent, Baelon, Aemon, Aegyl, Rhaenys…

Then, a sudden jolt: Viserys! Viserys and the little girls. They always came up last, as if she had separated them from those she had loved and lost. Only her thoughts of Aegon, Viserys, and the girls linked her to this world. Only for them she still clung to hope.

They wouldn't kill Aegon. Of course they wouldn't. Even in their grief for Rhaenys, they would not be so stupid. Gaemon would immediately proclaim their youngest son king and the usurper and his supporters would have wasted a valuable hostage. About herself, Rhaenyra had no doubt that she would be executed. She was too formidable an opponent. Killing her would send a clear message to her allies that their cause was helpless. And besides, Alicent's screams from the day of Rhaenys' death still echoed in Rhaenyra's ears. No, they would not let her live. Fortunately, she did not want to, so she felt no fear.

Of course, her death would be a public affair. Rhaenyra took a good deal of time to consider how she should behave when they led her to the hangman. Her half-brother would no doubt like it if she repented, threw herself at his feet, wept and begged for mercy. The assembled lords would no doubt watch her humiliation eagerly. She would not do it even if she believed Aegon would spare her. But she didn't.

Defy him one last time? Insult him, his bitch of a mother and his traitorous allies? Only a few weeks ago, she would have done it gladly but now she found out that she did not care even about that. Besides, she did not want to make things harder for her own Aegon. It was bad enough that after her death, he would stay here on his own, alone in this nest of vipers.

Her thoughts were interrupted by footsteps. On his straw-mattress, Aegon stirred and opened his eyes. He, too, had recognized the unfamiliar footsteps even in his sleep. His eyes, wide with horror, met hers. Rhaenyra smiled encouragingly, although she knew that the time has finally come.

The door opened to admit Criston Cole, accompanied by a stolid man wearing the sigil of the Hand over his rich tawny robes. Behind them, a squadron of guards and a member of the Kingsguard whom she did not know waited. They could not all enter the cell and Rhaenyra noticed that Cole gagged visibly as he made his way to her. The stench must be unbearable, she thought and wondered whether the Lord Commander would be sick now.

"My lady," he said. "I am here to lead you to His Grace."

"Very well," she agreed. "Take me."

Clearly surprised by her lack of defiance, he gave her a long inquisitive look. She had the feeling that he wanted to take a step back and reevaluate the situation, find out what she might be planning. But he didn't do it. Instead, he turned to Aegon.

"Come on," he said. "Come with us."

Rhaenyra's blood curdled. The realization of what they meant to do to her son dawned on her immediately. All this time, while she'd been planning her conduct in her last hour, she had never thought that Aegon might be one of those who would see her. She clasped his hand and whispered, "Let him stay here. Take me alone."

"It's impossible, my lady."

Rhaenyra grinded her teeth and hugged her son, held him tight. She knew it would be the last time she saw him. "Come on," she said. "Let's go."

The procession crossed the narrow hallway, climbed down a flight of stairs, went through a thick oak door. For first time in over a week, Rhaenyra breathed in the fresh air and only now did she realize how foul the smell in their cell had been.

It was a lovely sunset of gold and scarlet. No cloud marred the sky. Rhaenyra looked at the sun and did not close her eyes against the blinding light. Soon enough, she'd encounter darkness.

Against the walls of the courtyard, lords and ladies in their best finery waited. Rhaenyra didn't even bother to scan them. Her eyes went straight to the wooden dais, to Alicent's gaunt face and fervent triumph in her eyes. From his chair, Aegon smirked at her when Cole brought her close.

Having accepted her death, Rhaenyra looked her half-brother in the eye. "May the Seven curse you," she said. Her voice was not loud but the silence in the courtyard flung it against the stone walls that sent it back with tenfold force.

Aegon didn't show any emotion. "For now, you are the cursed one," he said as a great roar announced the arrival of his dragon, led in with clinking chains over his mighty body. All around the courtyard, voices screamed in horror. Rhaenyra noticed how Alicent paled even more, if such a thing was even possible. All those years with Father, and she still isn't one of us. Lyonel had never betrayed any fear he might have felt of the dragons.

People kept screaming and pushing back as the dragon's chains were being removed. Aegon also screamed and the terror in his eyes finally alerted Rhaenyra to what awaited her. He had merely realized it before she did.

Through the primal wild fear crushing her she saw how Aegon fought against the hands dragging him away. He fought but drag him safely away they did. The great mouth opened and send a walls of flames racing against her. She raised her head and screamed, "The Seven curse you!" right before the wall reached her.

The twenty-second day of the tenth moon of the 130th year after Aegon's Conquest died away in a sea of gold and blood-red.