AN: Thank you for so many views in so less time. It makes me feel like I'm on cloud 9.
And sorry for the late post. Just finished my last sem and my exams and I have slowly writing this chapter during the course of my exams. It is shorter than the last one, but I think it cover more ground unlike the last chapter which was made of decisions and what and who to attack.
Have fun!
Valyrian Translation:
Ilagon riña: Down girl.
Kepa: Father
Muna: Mother
Se ānogar hen zaldrīzes: The blood of the dragon.
RHAENYS
Her hair flew in the wind as the moon shone above her. Rhaenys looked at the clear, beautiful night sky with bright shining stars. She rubbed her hands on Meraxes' silver scales that came alight in the moon and felt the heat that seeped into her core, even through the saddle that Meraxes wore.
She was the best rider amongst her siblings and what she did with her Meraxes had made her Kepa and Muna extremely worried. They had never really understood her joy of flying. It was the greatest thing in the world.
To be on top of everyone, near the sun in the day and the moon in the night. To see the gaze at her and her dragon in wonder and awe. To see great cities like anthills below her. Flying on Meraxes was freedom itself.
Rhaenys looked below Meraxes, once again. An armada of ships under her uncle Daemon's control sailing to take control of Gulltown. A single step in conquering the Kingdom of the Vale. Aegon had given her this task and she would not fail him. She would not fail their house.
"Ilagon riña," Rhaenys whispered in High Valyrian, rubbing Meraxes' scales affectionately.
Meraxes tucked in her wings and plummeted down towards the sea and Rhaenys laughed as the wind rushed by her filling her ears. She loved doing this at Dragonstone above the seas surrounding it. It awoke her bones and mind.
The sea came nearer and nearer and Meraxes opened her wings at the last moment, smoothening out to a glide above the black waters.
Soon they came upon her uncle Daemon's ship. It was one of the largest in the armada with 300 oarsmen. It was constantly manned with two crow nests and the sails were painted with the the silver seahorse the Velaryon's had chosen for themselves on a green background.
Rhaenys bent down and freed her legs of the chains that kept her chained to Meraxes saddle. It was an arduous task since she was still gliding above water on Meraxes' back, but at the end managed to do it.
As Meraxes approached the ship, she looked on the sailors who had awe written on their faces. They had many-a-times seen dragons, for her Kepa had flown the silver-and-pink behemoth Shrykos, mother to her own dragon Meraxes, many-a-times to Driftmark, before it had died when the Dragonmont had exploded and filled the sky with ash and soot for days and nights.
It was a night she could never forget. The screams, the shouts. Men, women and children burned and scarred. It was the night the four great dragon's of House Targaryen had died. Aegarax, Arrax, Gaeliothox and Shrykos. It was also the night her Kepa had died.
It was as if the volcano wished to complete what the Fourteen Flames of Valyria had left undone. The destruction of Valyrians, Valyria and their Dragons. The collapse of their great civilization.
That would not happen though. She was there. Her sister Visenya and her brother Aegon were there. From them a new loins a new line of Valyria would sprout forth. She knew that in her heart. Even though she and Visenya hadn't conceived despite them spending many nights with Aegon, she knew that it would happen at the end. They would have beautiful children. A daughter for her and Aegon and a son for Aegon and Visenya. And the two would marry, like Valyrian custom dictated and they would have their own children. All of them beautiful and strong and dragonriders, with silver-gold hair and purple eyes of their ancestors before them.
"Enough staring men. Back to work," Uncle Daemon's voice brought her out of her thoughts of the future. His voice was hard, like a commander's, unlike the sweet and playful voice she had hear constantly through her life. War changes men, she thought. She wondered how it would change them. For the better she hoped.
Rhaenys, carefully jumped from her saddle to the deck of her uncle's flagship. King Aegon, he called it, after her brother.
"Nuncle, how fares the preparations?" Rhaenys asked, as they walked side by side to the command rooms, situated below the decks on the ship.
"They go well, Your Grace. We estimate to be in the vicinity of Gulltown by tomorrow evening, where we will launch a surprise attack. The conquering of Gulltown will be easy, especially with you and Meraxes, Your Grace."
Uncle Daemon went down first through the hatch, and she went after him. He held out his hand for her and she took it, stepping onto the the wooden floors of the Lord's quarters is the ship, which had been kindly given to her by her Uncle, whilst he slept in the barrack's like the rest of the other men.
"A queen should not sleep with soldiers", He had said to her.
"I am a soldier nuncle. Much like Visenya and Aegon, this is my war as well," She had replied. "And you're not only a soldier either, nuncle. You are a Lord and these are your quarters."
"You are a woman neice," Uncle Daemon had said. "Not only that you are a queen. If Aegon or Visenya ever found out that you slept in the barracks, I am sure they would not waste a moment to cut my head off my shoulders."
Rhaenys had laughed at that, but in the end she had graciously accepted her quarters. Uncle Daemon left and she closed the doors to the quarters.
Picking at the laces of her lynesi dress, she got out of the dress, which pooled at her feet, leaving her naked. She picked up the beautiful red dress back and put it back in her chest, taking out simple red shift that she had brought with herself.
Once she was in her shift, she went beneath the thin covers that covered her bed and let sleep overtake her.
JON
"Are you sure?" Jon asked.
"Yes m'lord. I have no reason to lie," The fisherman replied. He had gone out to fish in the deep waters surrounding Gulltown, and had seen an armada of ships bearing sigils. A silver seahorse on green, red crabs on white and a red dragon on black. Jon had recognized none of these sigils, that was until the man had said she had seen a silver dragon fly on top of them all. A beast so big that it could cover Gulltown if his word was to be believed. Then he had recognized the armada, even if only due to the dragon.
His lord had gotten the raven same as any other lords of the Vale. To proclaim Aegon Targaryen as King of the Seven Kingdoms, and like the other Lords of the Vale he had stayed loyal to House Arryn.
"Fuck," Jon cursed. He was the Captain of the City-Watch of Gulltown. He would be dammed if he let the Targaryen's take command of this city. "Guards," He called out loudly. The two guards who had let the Fisherman in entered the well-furbished solar of the Captain. "Take this fisherman out and then run back to Lord Grafton and tell him that the Targaryen navy is about to attack us. Tell him to send a raven to Lord Royce to ask for men, to defend our city from would-be conquerors. One of you stay here." Jon gave the command.
"Yes m'lord," The men obeyed bowing as the quickly as one quickly scurried back out, the fisherman following him.
Jon quickly went and grabbed his sword belt and fastened it on his waist. "You come with me. Rally the men and ring the bells." The bells would mean that the city was under attack and all the men would join him near the gates that led to the harbour of Gulltown.
They got out from his solar and ran in different directions. He passed many men from the City-Watch and commanded them to follow him. The men did without any hesitation. It had taken quite some time for him to establish his positions in the watch, being a bastard of House Shett, who had previously held Gulltown, till the Grafton's had taken it from them.
The many years of his unfolding faith in the Grafton's and his quite capable actions as Commander had left a good note to his men and Lord Grafton, and his father who had been Lord before him. The previous Lord Grafton had named him his most leal man, and his son, a boy nearing reaching his manhood, had named him a true man of House Grafton. It had been one of the proudest moments in his life and one that brought him joy every time he thought about it. Today, like many other days before it, he would let this faith go unfounded. He would protect this city, even if it meant giving it his life.
The building of the City-Watch of Gulltown was not far from it's docks, and around 25 men followed him. The pale grey walls of Gulltown loomed over him, as did the sun and the moon. The gates were open as men, decked in the grey armours as was common to the watch, stood and checked each person, before they entered the walls of Gulltown.
"Close the gates," He ordered. "Let them in and close the gates." Jon would not let innocent people outside the walls as the waged a battle outside in the waters.
The men quickly followed his commands and, letting every single person as quickly as possible as he made his way out into the harbour. The harbour of Gulltown was deep and had more than a fifty ships, further augmented by the dozen Braavosi war galleys under their command which Lord Grafton had bought, all with their own men and warriors to man the ships.
His men went around and ordered the ships to prepare themselves for battle and he himself went on to the largest galley they had. _Lady Alyssa_ it was called, boasting 200 oars and three decks. Jon immediately boarded the galley and was confronted by the captain of the ship on the deck.
"M'lord, the oarsmen are ready. When are we to set sail?" The captain asked.
"As soon as the rest of the ships are properly manned. Are the catapults and ballista well stocked?" Jon asked. Lady Alyssa, had two ballista on either side of the ship and a catapult at the far back, to damage any ship.
"Yes m'lord," The captain answered, as his men boarded the ships.
"You lot over there," Jon called out. "Come here." The men rushed towards him. "Who amongst you are the best archers?"
"I am m'lord," The man said, walking out front. In truth he looked more a boy, with that blond peach fuzz he was trying to grow on his face. Another man stepped forward, with brown hair and fierce beard on his face. And then another, with his neatly trimmed beard and long black hair that reached his shoulders.
"All right. the lot of you will man the ballista and the catapult. I want you to shoot down that damned dragon from the sky. Shoot it down and I have no doubt you will be regarded as the Hero of the Vale," Jon said.
"Yes, Captain," The men replied enthusiastically. It took some time, but once all the ships were manned, _Lady Alyssa_ took off from the harbour to confront the enemy.
The sea salt sprayed on his face as the wind blew his hair away from his face. The men were lined up, arches ready with arrows near them and fire to light the arrows. The ballista were manned with the heavy bolts near the men, and the catapults with their huge rocks.
When he saw the Targaryen navy first hand, he was a bit disappointed, if he were to be honest. His own navy outnumbered them, not significantly, but he still did, and by what he saw with the Captain's myrish eye the Targaryen navy was not prepared for them to bring the fight.
"Archers!" Jon shouted. "Nock!"
The enemy approached closer and closer and Jon used his myrish eye to see that they were preparing themselves for the upcoming battle.
"Draw!"
"Loose!"
Hundreds of fiery arrows lit the sky as the sun set behind them, quite a lot of them fining mark. The Targaryen navy soon retaliated, sending arrows towards them as well, but what truly terrified him was the huge roar that was unleashed. The roar made his bones quiver. He who had faced the Mountain Clans of the Vale and lived, but when he saw the dragon he was terrified.
It was huge beast with silver scales that glinted as the sun hit it, its wings seemed to make the noise of thunder and he could barely make out the rider on top. When it opened its mouth he could see the rows of sharp teeth, black as the Stranger itself. But what truly made him afraid was the silver fire that it spewed from it mouth, engulfing his ships. Left and right his ships drowned to the bottom of the ocean.
"Archers! Ballistae! Shoot down that dammed beast out of the sky. Aim for the Rider!" Jon shouted. "For the King! For the Vale!"
"For the Vale!" His men shouted back, with renewed vigor, as they tried shooting down the silver dragon, but even they failed. The beast was an expert in flying, twisting and turning, avoiding the huge bolts from the ballista and the arrows itself did no damage.
The carnage around him continued and Jon saw the silver dragon and its mount clear enough. The woman was beautiful with silver hair, wearing an elaborate black armour.
The dragon opened its mouth and Jon saw the silver flames that rushed towards him.
"I hope I served you well Lord Grafton," Jon said, as the flames washed over him and his ship.
VISENYA
Visenya sat near the table that contained a map of the Storm Kingdom. They had crossed the Wendwater and were firmly in Argilac Durrandon's territory.
Orys was explaining their plan of attack to the lords that were present with them, with suggestion from Lord Massey, whose lands and castle were in the Stormlands, even though he supported them. Massey knew about these lands much more than they did.
"My Lord, Storm's End is as impregnable as an Old maid's cunt," Lord Massey said, before his eyes widened. "Pardon me for using such language my queen."
"Do not worry, my Lord. We are in an army camp, fighting a war and I have heard much worse than this," Visenya said, placating the man. "Continue, Lord Massey."
Lord Massey gave a nod and continued. "As I was saying, Storm's End is impregnable. If Argilac decides to hole up in his castle then we won't be able to defeat him. We might besiege him, but he has number's on his side, even though we have Queen Visenya and Vhagar, and storms are a common occurrence near Storm's End which may hinder us of our greatest asset. Queen Visenya and Vhagar. His bannermen could attack us from behind and we would be between Storm's End and his army. We would break before anything begins."
"The only way to defeat Argilac Durrandon would be in the field away from Storm's End then," Orys said, as he placed the two stag emblems between Storm's End and Bronzegate and in front of it he placed a single Dragon emblem for Argilac Durrandon had twice the men they had.
"We need Argilac Durrandon to come here and fight us and the only way we could hurt his ego is if we defeat his bannermen here. We would have to attack Bronzegate, Haystack Hall and Fellwood. Argilac would be forced to come here to defend his three of his major bannermen and because these are the only major castle between us and Storm's End right now," Visenya said.
"Yes, Your Grace," Lord Massey agreed.
"Alright then. We know our next plan of action. Alert the soldiers, Lord Massey. We move at first light tommorow," Orys said.
"Yes, my Lord. Your Grace," Lord Massey bowed to both of them and went out of the tent and Orys poured himself a glass of wine and joined Visenya.
"To think this battle could've been avoided if Argilac had acceded to our request," Visenya said.
"Argilac is a proud man Vis. He himself has fought in century of blood and had maintained long and hard to protect his lands. He would've never agreed to marry his only daughter and heir to a bastard," Orys said.
"I don't care if you are a bastard," Visenya said, softly. "Aegon doesn't care, Rhaenys doesn't care. You are our brother and the commader-general of our armies alongside Aegon. When this battle is done and over with you will anyway be the Lord of Stromlands under Aegon."
"When this war is over," Orys said, gulping down his wine in one go. Any discomfort from the wine was not shown on his face. "We still don't know, if we will win," Orys said.
"We will," Visenya said. "We have to," Visenya said again, as she got up from her chair. "The day has worn me out, Orys. I'll be retiring for tonight."
She remained long enough to see Orys give her a curt nod and she moved out of the tent.
Her tent was a bit farther away from Orys', made with the same green and brown cloth as the other tents so they could camouflage with their surroundings.
Visenya entered her tent. It was spartan, much like her chambers at Dragonstone. She had a cot with white sheets and black covers and a side table with a pitcher of wine and and some glasses and on the other side of the tent was her armour stand.
Visenya went near it, unbuckled her sword belt and put Dark Sister on the side. Soon she would use the blade to take the Stormlands for her siblings and herself.
Visenya then went on to take off her armour. She worked fast, her hands undoing the straps of her armour as her breastplate came off. She wished it was Aegon or Rhaenys who had done it instead. Her night would have been much more entertaining, to say the least.
Once she out of her armour she went to her chest of clothes and took out a white shift that was on top. Once she had worn it she put her armour back on the stand. Her armour was plain black and far less rich looking that the armour Aegon had ordered to be crafted for Rhaenys, but it was how she wanted it to be.
Once she was done she, blew out some lantern's in the tent and snuck inside the covers of her bed. Sleep was a welcomed friend tonight and so were dreams, and she did dream.
A man wearing a black heavy plate armour and held Blackfyre in his hands, the sword was unmistaken for she had seen it a thousand times. In the portraits, in her father's hands, and more importantly in Aegon's.
She shivered and rubbed the sides of her arms. The cold seemed unnatural and there was snow everywhere around them and she took a good look at the man.
He was tall and handsome with deep purple eyes and a face that reminded her much of Aegon. His hair shifted from black, to silver-gold and black again.
"Ice and Fire," The man said, his voice hoarse from the cold. "Remember. Ice and Fire."
And then she was bathed in flames.
Visenya woke up, sweating, her shift ruined, and her chest heavy. Two lanterns burnt bright in her tent, proving her light and a huge clangour came from outside the tent. She threw away the covers and took in deep gulps of air.
Visenya went to her chest and and opened it. Another shift was was kept on the top and she took it out, when the flaps of her tents opened.
"Well, well. What do we have in here?" A man said.
Visenya spun around.
The man was short and heavily muscled like an ox, with a litany of scars on his arms. His sword was bared and a cruel grin was plastered on his handsome face.
"The Targaryen Queen, in her shift. King Argilac will be please when I deliver you to him, but not before I can have some fun heh!" The man said.
The man moved towards her, like a lion cornering his prey. Visenya moved back to where the armour was and picked up Dark Sister, holding it expertly in front of her.
"Feisty, heh! No worries, Your Grace, I like feisty," The man viciously said, as he moved closer to her.
Visenya charged at the man, bringing the sword down in an arc. The man barely defended against it and pushed her sword away.
"A woman, trying to play the game of men," The man said, spitting on the ground. "I'll show you, you bitch."
Visenya smirked. "Dark Sister has a thirst for blood, you should be elated that it is yours that will quench it today."
The man shouted as he charged at her, slashing at her abdomen, which she easily deflected and then chopped of the man's arm.
The sword fell to the ground, clattering and the man bled from the stump she had left of his hand. The fell on his knees, crying over his lost hand and Visenya immediately lopped of his head. She had rapists more than anything.
She opened the flaps of her tent and went outside. Men were injured and limping around, and many others helped them to the tents. She walked to one of the men who immediately bowed when he saw her.
"What happened here?" She asked.
"A guerrilla raid, Your Grace. The men retreated back into the trees, once they were done," The man said.
Visenya hummed and closed her eyes, calling out to Vhagar, who landed a moment later.
"Which side did they go?" Visenya asked.
"Forests to the south, Your Grace."
Visenya walked to Vhagar, who offered her wing to her to climb up. Visenya climbed upon her dragon's back and on her saddle, her legs secured with straps on the saddle.
"Sōvegon, Vhagar."
Vhagar bet its wings, the dust rising on the ground as its legs pushed her up in to the sky. A feeling of power took over her when she was on Vhagar's back. Her Dragon had been named for the God of War of Valyria, and it would bring war to these men, who had dared to attack her camp.
Once she was on top of the forests she only needed to say one word.
"Dracarys."
The forests below her were bathed in Vhagar's flames, bronze with jets of poisonous green. She would win this battle and they would win this war. They were last scions of Old Valyria. Westeros would be theirs.
AEGON
Shit, piss, blood, mud, all the scents wafted to his nose through his helm as he cut down man after man, Blackfyre cleaving through the leather armour finely as more men fell down to his sword and the swords of his men.
Harren the Black had closed down Harrenhal and had sent his men forth to kill him and his army. Balerion was out away hunting game and Aegon had decided to not use him in defeating this small army he had sent. Him and his men needed to be bloodied before they fought the larger hosts of other kings. Harren's army was not worth such.
Soon enough his men had prevailed and they had defeated the small army of ironborn reavers. Aegon made note of how none of the Riverlords had sent their own men to fight for their King. If he gained their loyalty they would no doubt bolster his own forces.
"A victory today, Your Grace," Ser Clarence Crabb, the man who had helped his brother Orys conquer the Crackclaw point for him, said.
"Yes. An important victory. Tell the men to set up tents. We rest today and march tomorrow," Aegon said. Ser Clarence went and relayed his orders to his men.
The sun was full above his head and shining brightly. Aegon could feel the heat seep into his bones, but it didn't matter much. As a Targaryen and a dragonlord he had better tolerance to heat. His blood ran hotter compared to the other men. The old tales said that Valyrians had mated with dragons and dragons were fire and magic made flesh. Maybe that was the reason why Targaryen's had silver-gold hair and purple eyes. Why they tolerated heat much better than other men and women. Why they bonded with dragons. They were the Blood of the Dragon. Se ānogar hen zaldrīzes.
He walked around the field of battle, Blackfyre still in his hands. The ground underneath him was hard and littered with dead men. The ones who were still dying and could not be saved were given the mercy of death, be they Ironborn or of his own army.
His tent was put up first and his squire, Dickon Crabb, came to tell that to him. Aegon followed him to his tent. It was bigger than the other tents made of black and red cloth to signify it as the King's tent. He opened the flaps and walked in to a perfectly arranged tent.
It had a cot with fresh linens and a blanket on top of it. Beside the cot was a small side table with a pitcher of wine and two cups and a lamp. Opposite to the tent was the armour stand and in the middle of the tent was a wooden tub filled with water. A bath would be heavenly right now, Aegon thought.
"Help me with my armour Dickon," Aegon said.
"Yes, Your Grace," the boy said, as he rushed to him, unstrapping his armour. His gauntlets and vambraces came off first, then his gorget and bevor. After that Dickon removed his shirt of black scales and carefully removed the chainmail. The black gambeson he wore underneath stuck to him like a second skin with his sweat.
"Dickon, tell someone to bring a tub. I wish to take a bath," Aegon said. The young boy nodded and went out of the tent. Once he was out, Aegon unbuttoned his gambeson and threw it to one side of the tent. Rhaenys and Visenya always commented on his lack of manners in that regard, but it mattered not to him at the moment. Removing his breeches and his light cotton shirt, he sat on his cot in his small clothes till the tub was brought in and the filled it with water. Once they were done they moved outside and Aegon removed the last piece of clothing he wore and sunk himself in the tub, drawing his knees close to his chest.
The water was cold and had probably been taken from the lake men here called God's Eye. At Dragonstone he had taken baths with scalding hot water. That was the way he enjoyed it. He and his sisters with whom he had enjoyed taking baths regularly. Though those baths turned to bouts of passion far more often than remaining simply baths.
Once he washed himself of the grime and sweat that covered his body he got up and dried himself with a piece of cloth. After that he wore a simple loose red shirt and black breeches and left his tent. The sun was going down and a full moon was steadily rising in the sky blending the colours a perfect orange and grey. A gentle breeze was running through the air that cooled his skin.
His men were sitting in a circle as all of them ate food that was well deserved. Wagons of food were camped outside towards the south where his primitive wooden palisade that the people had called Aegonfort was.
His men laughed and sang songs in the common tongue about the stories of brave knights and beautiful women. His squire, a young lad from House Crabb that Orys had conquered in his name, saw him and quickly leapt up from the circle and walked towards him.
"Dinner, Your Grace?" Dickon asked.
"Yes. I'll have it in my tent," Aegon said.
"And Balerion, Your Grace?"
"He'll hunt for himself," Aegon answered.
Aegon went back in his tent and a few moments Dickon entered with food. It was a bowl of hearty soup with lamb chops and vegetables roasted with spices in it and two loaves of brown buttered bread.
"Thank you, Dickon," Aegon said. His squire went out and Aegon took a bite of the bread. It was soft and hearty, the butter making it saltier to taster. He picked up the spoon in the bowl and took a spoonful of the thick soup. A few pieces of vegetables and lamb entered his mouth, sweet and spicy to taste. It was a good soup and bread whosoever had made it.
One Aegon was done he pored himself a Lynese Red, that he had received when he had aided Lys and rained fire on the Volantene ships. The wine was a bit sour to taste, but it cleaned his palate well and Aegon drank a full cup. He had never been much for drinking, that had always been Orys.
After everything Aegon went and sat down on his cot, the white covers against his black small clothes. It felt odd not having Rhae beside him. Even Vis would have been a relief. He had grown much used to their company in night.
Sighing away his worries Aegon got into bed and pulled his covers. Tomorrow they would be marching further upwards near the God's Eye to get to Harrenhal. No doubt they would face more of Harren's men on the way, though if he was smart, Harren would hide away in castle until Aegon met him for parley.
When Aegon was woken up by Dickon to the screams of battle he wondered wether morning had already struck or not, for in Old Valyria, no wars were fought in the night.
Dickon hurriedly said that men had struck the camp and it in the hour of the beetle, the first hour since dawn where the sun slyly rose bating the skies in pinks and reds.
By the time Aegon was in his armour the men had slinked back on their boats in the God's Eye and his camp was in ruins. Aegon felt like a failure and fire burned in his veins as he called on for Balerion.
His bonded dragon quickly came his dark scales seemingly swallowing the light of the sun. Balerion roared into the sky and Aegon gave a fierce smile to his men as the dragon landed with a laud thud on the ground.
Aegon climbed on Balerion's back and slid himself comfortable on the thick leather saddle on Balerion's back. Snapping the chains to secure his legs on the saddle Aegon whispered, "Sōvegon," and Balerion flew high with the wind beneath his wings.
The two of them looked down on the God's Eye and when Balerion spotted them making their war in the small boats to Harrenhal.
"Dracarys," Aegon whispered and Balerion let loose his flames, hotter than the hottest forges ad blacker than night itself. The men didn't even have time to scream as the flames swallowed them up. It made Aegon feel good. He would not fail, this conquest he had begun would end with him on a throne as Seven Kingdoms bowed down to the might of House Targaryen. As he and his sisters looked down upon them all as their told the rest of these lords: We are dragons, and we are here to rule.
AN: The chapter explores the opening battles of the main Conquest of Westeros. Rhaenys is the one who fights in the Battle of Gulltown. The next Chapter will see the conclusion and aftermath of the battle, though you can all guess what it will be.
The next is the Ambush on the Wendwater, a small river in the current Kingswood, that marks the entry into the Stormlands. Like the original, Visenya, instead of Rhaenys, destroys the forest whose aftermath will be seen in the next chapter.
Lastly we have Aegon himself and the Battle of the Reeds which takes place sout of the God's Eye between Aegon's forces and Harren's forces. We also see the Wailing Willows an attack after that failed Battle of Reeds, which destroyes much of Aegon's forces.
In addition to it I have added some non-cannon things. For example, the hour of the beetle. There is no such thing in the books, but it made sense to me since in Egyptian mythology Kherpi, the beetle aspect of Ra brings sunrise back to the world.
Another non-cannon thing is that Valyrian's didn't battle in the night. It is taken from Indian Mythologies, where battle always took place from morning to evening and no battle took place in the night. An added thing to add more flavour to the Valyrians.
We also have a look at the characters. Rhaenys is someone who loves her siblings, evidenced from the fact that she wanted to join their lines together in marriage, and is also the best rider amongst her siblings and how flying was like freedom for her.
We have Visenya, who is a warrior woman and was known to dabble in mythical arts. Thus, I gave her a vision of sorts of what is to come to Westeros and how Ice and Fire need to be joined together. It adds a sort of connection to the Starks who will feature much sooner in the story that they did in Canon.
Last we have Aegon, who is reclusive man. He never talks to anyone and keeps to himself and how Aegon wants HOuse Targaryen to sit above all else and proclaim: We are dragons and we are here to rule.