Sin Eclair: Thanks! Edmure gets done dirty in a lot of fanfics because people just drink the Tywin koolaid, but he's a very competent and caring lord (hell, in canon he smashes Tywin in the field being outnumbered 2 to 1...). He gets it a lot better here because the Riverlands aren't totally smacked.
Vasdos: Thanks. For now the sides are drawn, but maybe Quentyn can save it. If I do a Dance story it will not be an SI at all.
cliff: See this chapter.
Guest: Going to be difficult, they're outnumbered 3 to 1 in both men and dragons.
AVL: This isn't a romance story. Of course there are romantic interactions so that the pairings don't come out of left field, but the story isn't focused on that, be it Quentyn-Nym or Jon-Arianne or even Aegon-Ned-Dany. The story focuses on character interactions, politics and war. Romance is a side-track that I don't want to get deep into because it would make the story unnecessarily long.
Daenerys
Daenerys stared at the map laid in front of her, standing as she was under the large, golden tent.
Everyone was frenzied, be it Connington, the Dornish lords, or the Valemen, who now found themselves in the war room.
All the little flags gave her some sort of headache, but she wasn't worried, since the black flags vastly outnumbered the blue ones, and some blue ones were now hastily repainted in black.
Aegon leaned in. "I wouldn't put the Arryn forces in a crucial position, Dany."
"Why is that? They're the freshest troops we have, other than the Dornish reinforcements, of course," Daenerys answered.
"A man who turns his cloak so easily can turn it again just as easily. Who is to say they will not turn in the battle?" Aegon whispered.
Daenerys stared at him for a moment, but had to agree.
"Where would you place them, then?" she asked.
"In the center, where they'd be between the Golden Company and the Dornish troops. I'd wager they would not have any thoughts of betrayal if they were stuck so." Aegon pushed some flags. "And warn the men that if the Valemen turn their swords, to not hesitate to cut them down immediately."
Daenerys nodded along, looking at the Dornishmen, in particular.
Most of them had not placed their flags, nor gotten completely ready for battle, and this unnerved her. Are they waiting for Prince Quentyn? He is late to the meeting.
Just as she had spun those thoughts, a familiar figure entered the room, and all the Dornishmen's face lit up.
"Well, are we done throwing tantrums?" Prince Quentyn asked, angrily, still shadowed by the Sand Snake. "Can we get back to negotiating like adults?"
"Prince Quentyn, the negotiations are over." Lord Connington frowned. "They have failed, now it is time to lay our plans for battle."
"I have come to an agreement with Prince Daeron."
Prince Quentyn's words caused the whole room to go silent, hanging by his lips.
"He will bend the knee, then?" Daenerys asked.
"Yes, he will, at a cost," Prince Quentyn answered. "In exchange for pledging allegiance, the North will be treated as a Princely Kingdom, equal in rank to Dorne. Major financial compensation is to be expected, along with the naming of Prince Daeron as Prince of Summerhall, and your heir, until a child is born to you. Lord Edmure Tully will be recognized as Lord Paramount of the Riverlands, with dominion over Deep Den, the Golden Tooth and Hornvale, and Lord Edmure, in addition for the promise of a royal match, will be named Hand of the King."
"This is preposterous!" Lord Connington sputtered angrily.
"These terms seem reasonable enough to me." Aegon stepped in, cutting the Old Griffin short. "If this is the price for peace, it is one that I am willing to pay."
Daenerys felt her head spin. Peace, but at what cost? The North would essentially be independent, and she had already given so much to Dorne, what would be the next kingdom to ask for concessions? The Vale? The Iron Islands?
And what of her nephew's ambition? He will marry Arianne Martell, that means…
Daenerys suddenly felt a jolt.
"No," she said, her amethyst-colored eyes staring straight into the prince's soul. "These terms are unreasonable."
"What?" Prince Quentyn openly defied her. "These terms are perfectly acceptable! No one loses face, and the Northmen will be content with what they could spin as independence."
"And it is precisely why this isn't acceptable. Stark or Tully, they will bend the knee or be destroyed." Daenerys frowned. "If they do not? Good, let them, for I care not. We will sweep them today, let the others run North and beg on their knees for our help when they starve."
"Dany." Aegon put a hand on her arm. "It is quite reasonable. Daeron will fight with the Starks, you know it. If all we need to concede is a few privileges, a Handship and some keeps, so be it."
Daenerys felt his smooth touch soothe her skin, but he hadn't extinguished her fire. She turned to Prince Quentyn, then.
"On whose authority did you take leave to discuss these terms?" She asked.
"Mine own."
"You are sworn to us, Prince Quentyn." She seethed. "Do not forget it."
"I forget not, Your Grace." Prince Quentyn's demeanor never changed.
"Good, then I suppose you will see no opposition to these terms being rejected?" She smiled.
"I would very much oppose this decision." Prince Quentyn frowned. "And I advise you to be very careful, Your Grace."
Daenerys snapped.
"Is that a threat, Prince Quentyn?" she leaned in, Ser Barristan immediately moving forwards. "I can see why you wish to have Prince Daeron close to you. He will wed your sister, who is already pregnant with his child…would you plan to have us name him heir and then use it to usurp us?"
Prince Quentyn's eyes went wide.
"What?" he asked, fists clenched. "Have you gone mad?"
At these words, Daenerys almost wished to walk up to him and slap him across the face.
Instead, she restrained herself, whilst the Prince made to roll up his sleeves, showing his arms covered in white bandages.
"I have shed my blood for you. I have led my men to their deaths for you. I have lost kin for you. I almost died for you. And you think I would betray you, now? When the fate of the World is on the line?" Prince Quentyn laughed, with a single tear rolling down his cheek. "I have made my bed with you, I can see that, and may regret it, but, please, I will not betray you now."
"You regret siding with the rightful claimants to the Iron Throne?" Daenerys raged.
"Not with my cousin, King Aegon," Prince Quentyn scoffed. "For you, Your Grace, I must say that by the hour, I think that you could count yourself lucky that you have dragons."
Barristan started to draw his sword.
"Oh please, Ser Bystander!" Prince Quentyn laughed as half the lord in the room brought a hand to their own swords. "Please, do come here and cut me down. Perhaps that will wipe away the shame of having done nothing as Queen Rhaella suffered in her chambers with you outside of them. Mayhaps if you'd done your duty as a knight then, I wouldn't have to stand here talking to a petulant child."
"Watch your words, Martell," Ser Barristan warned. "And I'll show you how deep Marcher steel cuts."
"Child?" Daenerys asked, for her part. "I would also advise you to watch your words, Prince Quentyn, because although I am merciful, you are talking to your Queen, not some lowborn!"
Tension was mounting in the tent, which she suddenly realized was at least half-Dornish…a little like her forces. Damn that Prince!
"Dany," Aegon spoke softly. "Please, calm down."
"No, I will not!" Daenerys turned to Aegon, anger in her voice. "All my life, I have been put down and shamed, and I will not let others take away my birthright!"
"No one is contesting your birthright," Aegon replied calmly. "Naming Daeron our heir would go a long way to mend relations with the Starks."
"As long as Daeron isn't within our grasp, he will always be a threat to our rule," Dany retorted. "They will conspire and they will want to see his head crowned and ours on a spike. No, Aegon! I love you, and I will not see you fall for something I would've been able to prevent! Naming him heir…it is unthinkable. Giving Summerhall, a Dornish holding, is even more so. I do not trust Prince Quentyn to turn his back on us the moment we show weakness."
"The World is hanging in the balance, Your Grace," Prince Quentyn replied in a softer voice, with a simple bow of his head. "Prince Daeron is as much a threat to me, as he is to you."
Daenerys made to answer, but she could see that his gaze had shifted to Aegon, who was now the center of attention of the room.
"I…" Aegon muttered. "It is not an easy decision. I would not be opposed to restarting negotiations, but…"
Aegon drew a deep breath.
"I must agree with my Queen, Summerhall…it is too far…out of our grasp."
"Your Grace, he would be between Dorne and the Crownlands, how much further deep into loyalist territory would you want him to be?" Prince Quentyn asked.
"If we are to negotiate again, surely they would come to us?" Aegon asked. "Coming back to them would make us look very weak."
Aegon's gaze shifted slightly to the Valemen, and Daenerys got where he was going with this.
If they easily turned their cloaks once…
"Be the one that wishes to mend bridges, Your Grace, I beg of you," Prince Quentyn pleaded. "The world is at stake…"
"Why do you doubt so much, Prince Quentyn?" Daenerys asked, confused. "We outnumber them three to one. We have more dragons, more men, more horses, more elephants."
Rather than answer, the Prince quickly and firmly spoke out, "I will resign my position of Master of Coin if you do not go back and negotiate."
Daenerys nodded. Back as she was into the corner there was only one thing for her to say, "Done. You are free of your position; another person will be named soon."
The Prince's shock was clear on his face, he had clearly not been expecting that. He thinks himself more important than he is.
"Fine," Prince Quentyn said after a moment to compose himself."Then, it is to be battle, then?"
"I fear that unless our nephew comes to us and bends the knee, there will be no other outcome. As a matter of fact, these people you kindly negotiated with have just forded the river, downstream," Daenerys replied.
"Then, I warn you, not a single of my men will move unless that dragon is taken down." Prince Quentyn stood with determination.
Daenerys froze.
"What?" She asked.
"My men will not move an inch out of the woods and cliffsides until you take down that dragon," Prince Quentyn said, with full confidence. "I have seen what burns do to a man, and I have seen dragonfire in action. I do not wish for any of my men to be sacrificed at the stake so that you may go wreak havoc elsewhere."
"This is treason." Daenerys stepped forwards.
"My men will follow me." Prince Quentyn folded his arms.
"Lord Fowler, Lord Dayne, do you support this madness?" Daenerys asked.
"I support my Prince." Ned immediately smiled back at her, almost evilly.
"Prince Quentyn commands, my sword and shield are his. If he does not wish for our forces to engage, I can do nothing but follow." Lord Fowler bowed his head.
"What will be your decision?" Prince Quentyn asked with a satisfied smirk.
And now, it was falling apart. Without the Dornish besides her…she knew she couldn't lay her hands on him or she'd lose everything, but being treated like this…she'd remember this slight; this was for sure.
"Your Grace, it is quite logical." Lord Connington stepped in, to her shock. "Their dragon must be distracted, if not killed, if we are to win. Should we let it run rampant, it will annihilate our men in the blink of an eye, and any victory we will get will be very sore indeed, if it is one at all."
She looked back at the Prince, who now hid his smile.
He had offered them a choice: Kinslayers or Beggars.
Daenerys' mind raced back to Essos, to the years of hardship, to Viserys, Drogo, then Qarth and Meereen. To the obstacles on her way.
She was only awakened by Aegon's voice whispering in her ear ."Dany, let's call another round of negotiations."
"No," Daenerys whispered back at him. "I have begged enough, Aegon. I have suffered and this close, when nothing stands in our way? I will not back down. We may risk to be kinslayers, but will our nephew risk to be so as well?"
"We cannot risk it, Dany, none is so accursed as the kinslayer," Aegon replied softly. "Please, it would be no begging, we just need to…"
"No." Daenerys shook her head. "No, Aegon, no. Please, I do not wish for it. Not another humiliation. Not in front of them."
"Shhh, Dany…" Aegon tried to comfort her, to no avail.
"He will be a threat, always…" Daenerys looked into his eyes. "I cannot let this pass. If we show ourselves, prepared to give battle, then he will back down."
Aegon looked languidly at her, and Daenerys felt him faltering.
"Trust me. We are the last dragons."
"He is a dragon too."
"He is a Stark."
Aegon winced. He looked at the table, then back at Dany, and finally at Connington.
"Lord Connington is right," Aegon spoke up. "We cannot risk a battle if we do not have full control of the skies. But we must try to avoid the useless spilling of blood."
Aegon took a deep breath.
"Let us take positions for battle. Seeing our determination, our three dragons in the sky, Prince Daeron will have no choice but to see the lengths we are willing to go to, in order to take the Iron Throne." Dany could almost see Aegon's confidence growing. "We will force him to come and meet us, and the Northmen and Riverlanders will come back to discuss with us. A battle would be catastrophic for them, let us not forget so."
There were a few nods around the table, but on his side, Prince Quentyn just looked at them with teary eyes.
"I should have left you there." The prince shook his head at Aegon, and left the tent without saying another word, the Dornish lords following closely behind him.
Daenerys placed a hand on his shoulder, and kissed him on the cheek. At least, Aegon had stayed loyal. He always had. And as much as Daenerys wanted to reprimand the Dornish, she would have to wait until after the battle. For the moment, she needed their men, and she had promised them lands and riches.
That, she would not go back upon. She had signed a treaty, and that was sacred. What message would that give everyone if she immediately renounced it? That the Targaryens were oathbreakers? No. Daenerys would be magnanimous.
But she would have to deal with them somehow. Removing Prince Quentyn as Master of Coin was already one step to further that goal. Removing Vaith and Allyrion? Though both had served well…a question for another time.
Now, it was time for battle, and Daenerys, accompanied by Aegon, slowly left the tent, once the final details had been fixed.
They would fly over the Tully camp with the three dragons, and meet their nephew in the skies. With no hostile moves, he would not risk to draw blood first, and he would see their determination in winning.
With such a show of force, they would force him to land, and call for another parley, which they would gracefully accept.
She stepped out, accompanied by Ser Barristan and some Unsullied. Watching the skies, she couldn't help but notice that there still hadn't been a single break in the weather. The skies remained gray, though no rain had yet fallen.
Daenerys found her dragons waiting for her, on the great grassy field near Tumbleton.
Viserion was already in the air, prowling around, whilst Drogon and Rhaegal were waiting on the ground.
Before she could even reach Drogon, though, Aegon grabbed her by the shoulder.
"What if he does not yield?" Aegon asked, his purple eyes shining into hers. "What if he does not fall for our gamble?"
"Then, we have no choice but to defend ourselves, Aegon," Daenerys replied, determined. "If he does not back down, then he will have to watch us burn his armies. He cannot allow this to happen, you know this."
"And what if he tries to attack us?" Aegon asked.
"Viserion will protect our camp," Daenerys answered, confident. "If anything is amiss, I will know."
She then pulled her arm away from him, and gently mounted Drogon, leaving Aegon to his own dragon.
"Soves."
In a swift motion, Drogon lifted himself from the ground, rising up towards the clouds above.
Soon, Rhaegal's greenish scales were glittering underneath her, as they both undertook to fly towards the Northern camp.
Rhaegal soon found himself near her, though slightly above, due to the dragon's light weight. She could not see Aegon, but this mattered little. In the air, the winds would make it so that Aegon would never be able to hear her, even if she shouted at the top of her lungs. Instead, she made signs towards him, when needed.
The two of them used the river to navigate to the Northern camp, expecting to see the blue-scaled dragon waiting for them, above the many tents of the upper Mander.
Yet, when they arrived above it, she could see that there was something wrong.
The many tents dotting the fields below were still there, but there seemed to be a clear lack of activity.
This could be expected, with the army having forded the river, finding refuge in the woods and grassy vale, but there also was no dragon.
Where had it gone? It certainly wasn't attacking their rear, she would feel it with Viserion.
Worried, Daenerys turned her dragon towards the ford where Lord Edmure had made his army cross, hoping to find something there too. Yet, all she found was emptiness.
She looked above her and saw that Rhaegal was vanishing in the clouds, and then she understood.
Aegon was worried about a surprise attack from above, with Winter hiding in the clouds to pounce on them.
Her heart skipped a beat. Urging Drogon higher, her hands began to shake.
Was it fear, or just the cold that had settled as she entered the first clouds? She could not tell, but she was sure that the fur coat she wore would not protect her long.
She caressed Drogon's scales, feeling the fire inside of him, to keep her hands warm. As she did so, she scoured everywhere for a sign of something.
Suddenly, atop her, on the left, she saw a flash, and a screech.
Lightning? Has Rhaegal or Viserion found something?
The uneasiness continued to settle. Rhaegal had vanished in between the numerous clouds, and she could now hardly tell which way was up, with water continuously pouring over her head, sometimes into her eyes, forcing her to use her hands to wash it away.
She trusted Drogon to keep her in the right direction, and, finally, a small break happened in the clouds. Yet, there was no sign of Rhaegal or Viserion, or even Winter for that matter.
Everywhere around her were clouds of different shades of gray, and not a single flicker of life to be seen.
"Where are you, Aegon?" she asked herself, now worried that they had been deceived.
Fearing for the worst, she wanted to plunge back down, towards her army, but she could not bear to leave Aegon behind.
Something dark was looming in the clouds, and it was not rain.
Fear gripped her truly for the first time, and Drogon could feel it.
She tried to calm herself, to tell herself that it was only her imagination that spawned dragon faces in every corner of her eyes.
All of a sudden, her body shook.
Or was it her body? There was a great roar in the skies, and the entire world seemed to shake for a brief moment, and then a great pain struck her stomach.
She looked down, but there was nothing. Not a stain of blood.
But upwards, there was a rumbling, and the roar became louder and louder.
She narrowed her eyes, waiting to see what was going on.
Was the thunder in the distance playing tricks on her mind? Or was Aegon in trouble?
She did not have time to dwell on it.
All of a sudden, something came out of the cloud above her. A cream-colored dragon.
"Viserion!" she shouted. "You scared me!"
But Viserion did not answer. He kept falling, and that is when Daenerys came to a horrible realization.
He was missing his entire right wing, and blood fell atop of her in his wake.
"No!" She cried out. "Ilagon! Ilagon!"
Drogon shrieked and rushed downwards, rushing after Viserion's falling body.
There was a chance Drogon could capture him in his claws, there must've been.
Falling through the skies, her vision became wet once more. She tried to control Drogon, to manage to keep some distance between her and the surely approaching ground, but to no avail.
When the ground finally came into view, it came at tremendous speed, and it was not the ground, it was water.
The Mander stood there, impassive to the tragedy above, and in an instant, her vision became wet again.
A giant splash resounded, and she barely managed to utter to Drogon, her voice half-choking on water: "Hepnon!"
Drogon levelled off, his wings parallel to the river, slowly urging his large body upwards. She felt a jolt, and heard another splash, but Drogon had managed to recover. His tail splashed on the water, as he slowly gained altitude once more.
She urged Drogon back, to see if Viserion had taken the shock, but the next vision filled her with a sense of absolute horror.
The waters of the Mander were red with blood, and there was no trace of Viserion but a few cream-colored scales on the surface, sinking slowly.
"No!" Daenerys cried out, tears welling up in her eyes.
Drogon roared loudly, which was matched by an even greater roar, coming from the heavens.
There, forcing some clouds down with it, stood the silhouette of the giant dragon.
Winter did not dwarf Drogon by any means, but, with its blue scales, it shadowed the grey skies in a manner that made it look much larger than it was.
It came to a halt in front of her, its wings extended and belly in full view, and unleashed another roar.
One of victory.
Paralyzed, Daenerys did not know what to do. The taste of water mixed with blood, dirt, and tears made so that not a single word came out of her mouth. Instead, she could only look on, as the two dragons stared each other down.
And then, behind Winter, a blink of green.
Rhaegal.
The green dragon came out of the clouds as silent as a hunter's arrow, and aimed directly for Winter.
Yellow-Red flames spouted from his mouth, and, suddenly, Daenerys felt reinvigorated.
"Dohaeragon zirȳla!" she ordered Drogon.
Her child's death would not go unpunished.
Drogon climbed up to face the blue dragon, but itself had now understood that it was being attacked from two directions, and clumsily rose up, though a large beam of fire landed on its side and tail.
Rhaegal was swift, though, and buried its claws in its left wing, tearing out a chunk as if it were made of paper, before disappearing in the clouds once more.
Daenerys found herself in an advantageous position now, firmly behind Winter.
Drogon fired a large plume of flames, but Winter was more agile than she thought, and dodged it by swerving to the side, trying to lose its pursuer. Luckily for Daenerys, Drogon was more agile, and managed to stay put right behind him, not letting Winter even a chance of eyeing her position.
Suddenly, though, the large dragon extended its wings upwards, in front of her, creating a whirlwind which shook Drogon, as well as slowed down the larger dragon.
Realizing what Winter was doing, she ordered Drogon to push through, with no fear.
Drogon's claws dug into the blue dragon's side, clawing into its scales, releasing some of them, and punching into others, which had already been damaged by Rhaegal's fire. Oily black liquid came out, and another deafening roar made her ears ring.
When she regained her senses, Winter was no longer in her line of sight.
Immediately, Daenerys urged Drogon upwards, then back towards the fight.
Rhaegal had taken over, as she saw the green dragon come down from above, diving towards the large shadow underneath, which had trouble climbing.
Daenerys' eyes lit up as she saw him.
It would all end there, in a moment.
But as Rhaegal straightened up, all it did was release another plume of flames on its wings and sides. It did not even attempt to jet some flames towards the head.
It then hit Daenerys.
He does not want to kinslay.
"Aegon, end it!" she cried out, knowing full well no one would hear her, her words carried out by the wind and reduced to nothing.
Instead, Rhaegal passed in front of Winter, and into its line of sight.
In the blink of an eye, Winter dove down towards him, releasing its own plume of blue-grey flames, which hit Rhaegal right in the middle.
Daenerys urged Drogon down, trying to keep up with the falling dragons. Winter was firmly behind Rhaegal now, claws extended, coming from above in a deafening shriek.
With horror, she watched as Winter tore into Rhaegal's left wing, the green-colored dragon shrieking in pain. Its claws dug into scale and flesh, allowing Winter's mouth to head towards Rhaegal's neck…
"AEGON!" Daenerys cried out at the top of her lungs, urging Drogon to plunge faster, through Winter's black smoke.
To her surprise, though, Winter just looked into Rhaegal's terrified eyes, and then let the dragon go, turning its attention back to Dany.
She, though, had no intention of being caught off-guard.
Using her higher position, she maneuvered Drogon behind Winter, but, with the dive and the water in her eyes, had trouble seeing where she was sending Drogon's flames.
Despite this, she cried out: "Dracarys!"
Large, red-and-black flames spouted from Drogon and landed all across Winter's belly and wings, the large dragon having apparently completely turned left, only leaving its underside facing her.
Soon enough, she lost the blue dragon, it having managed to blend itself with its surroundings once more.
In the skies, there seemed to be a lull. The clouds had parted slightly, to reveal many small openings.
The ground was more visible too, with the green fields and hills dotted along the Mander now being somewhat visible from high above.
Daenerys urged Drogon upwards, the black-scaled dragon roaring as it flapped its wings, waiting for another challenge.
A smaller roar met him. There, in front of her, was Rhaegal. The poor little dragon had been battered. Some of its scales had been sheared off, and there were holes in its wings, but it held.
Another rumble followed.
This time, though, Daenerys did not let herself be confused. Seeing the large approaching mass in the clouds directly in front of her, she immediately turned Drogon towards the left, its wings flapping desperately in an effort to avoid the oncoming storm.
It was the right call.
A wave of heat hit her right side, though it did no harm to her.
Drogon moved away, into the thinning clouds, avoiding a greatly unfavorable challenge. There, she tried to find Rhaegal, its green-colored wings being lost against the similar coloring of the ground below. Her eyes searched above, but only found the first rays of the sun shining onto her.
There, though, after what seemed like an eternity of searching, she finally found the small dragon, the hole in its wing prohibiting it from gaining altitude.
Behind him, like a shark waiting to stalk its prey, was Winter, which had managed to maneuver itself right above it.
Watching the scene from even higher, Daenerys felt her heart skip a beat. She urged Drogon downwards, his wings folding to gain speed to catch up to the two slower-moving dragons.
Drogon came down on Winter like a hawk, though it had to start spreading its wings, losing speed and altitude, and making Daenerys' eyes teary from the winds battering her.
It seemed that Winter had sensed her presence, since it tried to hide its large wings from her, always moving from one side to the other, preserving it from Drogon's claws and teeth.
Daenerys still kept an eye out for Rhaegal, hoping that she'd made enough time for him to escape back into the clouds.
It was only when she saw Winter fire another jet of flames that she managed to get a glimpse at Aegon's mount, turning right through the smoke released by the blue dragon.
Then, as swiftly as Rhaegal itself had turned, Winter flew down to meet it. Its claws dug into Rhaegal's back, and this time, its jaws clamped tight around its neck.
Powerless, Daenerys could only watch as blood began to spurt from Rhaegal's shoulder, who shrieked in pain.
Not letting herself be overwhelmed, she forced Drogon towards the ground, consequences be damned.
"Dracarys!"
The black-scaled dragon released another plume of smoke, and rammed Winter at full force.
Surprised, the dragon let go of its prey, a deafening roar filling the skies, all three beasts tumbling in different directions as if they were leaves cut off a tree.
But they had lost too much altitude.
Rhaegal managed to level off slightly, only for a massive crash to be heard.
Looking down, she saw that a massive mound of dirt had risen from the earth and into the sky, Rhaegal's body clearly visible.
Daenerys wanted to cry once again, but this time, her tears of sorrow were replaced by tears of rage.
She cried out with fury, matched by Drogon's roar, and immediately sought Winter's form.
This time, blue against green, it could not use the clouds as cover. Drogon rammed into the larger dragon once more, its claws digging into the beast's side, it's jaws desperately trying to find something to latch onto.
Claws digging into the flesh of its opponent, Drogon ripped off its scales, scattering them to the ground below.
Winter roared in pain, trying to shake off its opponent, but Drogon's teeth found their way into the dragon's tail, though the fight was not over by any means.
Winter's muscles tensed, the larger dragon trying to shake off Drogon by any means necessary…until it also found something to latch on to.
Daenerys watched in shock as the blue dragon's teeth sunk into Drogon's back, tearing away at its black scales as a knife would through butter.
Drogon was forced to let go, now fighting for his own survival. Both dragons struggled, but neither managed to keep themselves in flight, and, suddenly, Daenerys saw the ground approach.
Both dragons hit it hard, but, thankfully, on their side. Daenerys did not see much, trying to clear her vision of the dirt, while desperately clinging to Drogon's spines.
The force of the shock had separated the two dragons, allowing both to take flight again. This time, once more, though, Winter had managed to find its way back to the clouds without Daenerys being able to track it. The only thing it left behind was a trail of dark blood and blue scales, scattered on the field.
She dared to turn around, and felt her stomach turn.
Right behind her, almost where she could reach, were bite marks. Later on, close to Drogon's tail, the scars were deeper, and a trail of blood formed from the left side, where several spines were missing, with others bent at unnatural angles.
Drogon hissed in pain, making Daenerys nervous. It was obvious that he couldn't climb higher without being impaired, and, as such, she decided to take advantage of a break in the weather to go back and circle Rhaegal.
Ever vigilant, she stood guard against Winter's next attack, but nothing came.
Did it go to burn my armies? No, she'd see it from here, and nothing was close to burning. As a matter of fact, several brave men had started coming out of their hiding places and approached the fallen dragon.
Daenerys ordered Drogon to land beside the wounded beast, and, as she did so, could observe the damage that had been done to her child.
The Black Dread Reborn had taken a beating. In addition to the damage to its back and tail half its wings were shredded, and it had large claw marks on its belly, with a deep scar trailing black blood onto the marshes.
Daenerys gasped, but continued moving quickly towards Rhaegal, who was, thankfully, still moving, though it had not taken to the skies again.
She felt her heart sink once more.
Could it be? No, she couldn't have lost him, either.
Daenerys hurried to Rhaegal's side, desperately trying to find Aegon.
He wasn't near Rhaegal's head, which was in an awful state. The dragon's head was split in the middle, blood dripping in a large pool which slowly ran down the small hill it had crashed upon. Its breathing was slow, and Daenerys could see that the green-colored dragon had lost many teeth, some missing, some just cut to pieces.
Its body was in no better shape. If Drogon was scarred, Rhaegal was ripped to shreds. She could not tell if its scales were red with blood, or if there was a gaping wound there. All along its back, she could see the devastating effect of Winter's bite, which had quite literally taken out large chunks of the dragon.
As for its wings, well…both of them had been badly damaged. Its right wing was severed in two places, while the left was missing much of its flesh and some bone. It was under this wing that she found Aegon, lying on the ground.
"Aegon!" she cried out, rushing towards him.
Rhaegal moved its wing slightly, to help her get a grip of him.
Aegon was lying against Rhaegal, his face completely drenched in blood, holding his right arm with his left.
Daenerys quickly put some of her cloth over him to try and stem the bleeding, but above all desperately tried to see if it was alive.
"I'm sorry…" Aegon finally muttered, his eyes flicking at her, "Mother…I'm sorry…"
"Shhhh, Aegon…" Daenerys grabbed him with her cold hands, wiping away the blood that just kept coming. "Stay with me, Aegon, don't go to sleep, do you hear me?"
Daenerys looked around, and saw that there were riders approaching. In the distance, she could see the banners they were holding were those of House Martell.
She frowned. Have the Dornish turned on me? Did Prince Quentyn betray me and side with Prince Daeron after all?
She couldn't let these thoughts haunt her, though. Aegon needed help, and it seemed no one else was coming.
"Iōragon ilagon!" she shouted at Drogon, before moving back towards Aegon.
"Mother…" Aegon continued to whimper. "Mother…"
"It's me, Aegon, it's Dany, please…" she begged him, tears in her eyes, "I'm sorry, Aegon, you were right. I shouldn't have been foolish, please, don't go…"
Aegon's purple eyes stared blankly at her, almost trying to find out who she was.
"Rhaenys?" Aegon asked. "They'll come back for you too…"
"Not Rhaenys. Daenerys." She cupped his cheek, gently. "It's Dany, your Dany…"
"Dany?" Aegon's gaze wandered. "It hurts…"
"I know it does, Aegon, help is coming." Daenerys did her best to shield him against the cold winds that had started to sweep the grassy fields. "Please, be strong, for me…"
"Is Rhaenys here too?" Aegon asked. "I miss her…"
Daenerys did not understand what was happening. Aegon's mind was faltering, that was for sure, and she wondered how long it would be this way.
"I love you, Aegon, please…" she begged once more. "I'll follow your advice. I'll make peace with my nephew, but please, stay with me…"
"Daeron…" Aegon smiled. "My little brother."
"Yes, yes, your little brother, I promise I'll make peace with him, but stay with me!" Daenerys cried out.
It was then that she heard the horses come quickly besides her. Raising her head, she noticed a knight without a helm, with unmistakeable blonde hair.
Ned.
He looked at her with a pained expression whilst unhorsing, and moved towards Aegon.
Daenerys grabbed his arm before he began to touch him.
"If you harm him…"
"Dany, he needs a maester, and he needs one now," Ned warned without a second thought. "He needs to go back to camp or he'll die within the hour."
"How?" she asked.
"I'll take him on my saddle."
"No!" she cried out. "I'm not letting you take him."
"Dany, if I do not bring him to camp now, he will die. You have to trust me, or take him yourself at this instant," Ned replied with a plain expression on his face.
She looked at the state of Rhaegal, and that of Drogon. She could well put Aegon on Drogon's back and fly to camp, but that would mean leaving the entire army defenceless…
"Fine." Daenerys nodded, as she helped Aegon into Ned's arms. "But if anything happens to him."
"I am a knight, Dany," Ned replied. "I bear no ill will towards Aegon. He is my King, just as you are my Queen."
With that, Ned attached Aegon to his saddle, trying to stem the bleeding from his head and chest with some cloth he had on him. Once he was firmly attached, Ned himself got ahorse, and, accompanied by his escort, kicked his horse forwards at a gallop towards the camp.
Daenerys, for her part, stayed with Rhaegal.
Her child was still suffering, and it was a mother's duty to stand by her children as they suffered. She had lost one already, she would not lose another.
She pressed her hand on Rhaegal's scales, trying to soothe the dragon, as she had Aegon. Soon, Rhaegal drifted into some sort of slumber, breathing easily, but closing its eyes, under Drogon's watchful gaze.
All the while, Daenerys looked at the skies, which had cleared from grey to reveal the sun for the first time in what felt like moons.
She scoured it, trying to spot Winter's silhouette from as far as possible and get Drogon ready for a final clash.
But try as she might, there was nothing in the sky but a few scattered raindrops. The skies were completely empty, but that thought was scarier than the alternative, for now one question resonated in her head: where had Winter gone?