Epilogue
Twenty Years Later
"I'm not sure about this…"
Rolling her eyes, the Princess glanced over her shoulder at the witty yet inhibited man she'd wed. "Please explain to me how you have our blood in our veins and still yet act like a scared little girl?"
Indignancy flushed inside of him as they entered the well of the dragonpit, open to the sky. "I am not a scared little girl!" His cheeks grew red, making her smile. Good, he was starting to get angry. "You know how strong and manly I am, sister!"
Changing tactics, the young Princess twirled in her riding dress, melding to her twin brother's side. "Mmm, you definitely showed me last night, husband." He grew quiet, gulping a bit. He was normally so lively in public compared to her more prudish attitude, so whenever she did flirt with him it came as a shock when he felt like a fish out of water. She found it adorable. "Now I wish to show that side of you to the rest of the world, and you'd let a little rain scare you?"
A huge thunderclap sounded, echoing through the dragonpit. "I'm not scared, I just don't want to get caught out in the rain."
Princess Alicent Targaryen snorted. "Seriously, Viserys, they always joked that you came out of muna's womb after me cause you wanted to see if it was safe, and for once I'm starting to believe them!" He said nothing, to which she turned her back to him. "Dragonkeeper!"
"Yes, Princess." The head Dragonkeeper bowed.
"Saddle Sunfyre for me and have him ready. I shall be riding."
"Of course." He barked orders to his men. "Will his Grace be riding as well?"
"Will he?" Alicent gave Viserys a pointed look.
Silent for a moment, Viserys finally groaned. "Oh what the hells. Saddle Quicksilver please."
"At once, your Grace," the Dragonkeeper bowed. Alicent merely embraced her husband of three moons, kissing him deeply. She could always get him out of his shell, it just took a little effort some of the time.
"The things you make me do, sister," Viserys chuckled.
She smirked. "If it weren't for me, you'd just throw feasts and tourneys all day while playing Cyvasse with our cousins over cake."
Viserys matched her smirk and leaned in. "I do believe you enjoyed what I did with the last cake." Gods, she hoped the Dragonkeepers didn't see how hard she blushed. Alicent was sure her maids didn't notice her scrubbing extra-hard to get the dried frosting off of her inner thighs - at least she hoped they didn't notice.
Luckily, the appearance of their dragons managed to provide just the distraction. "Sunfyre, my sweet boy." Alicent ran to her golden dragon, the fierce beast immediately presenting his head to her gentle pets and coos. He'd hatched the same day as Caraxes, Alicent not remembering how little Sunfyre had to have been since she had only been three moons old at the time. In all her memories was the dragon large and formidable, yet he heeled under her firm but loving hand. "Are you ready to ride?"
'Always, muna… just hope the old grouch can keep up with me.' He growled at Viserys and Quicksilver, the beautiful older dragon marred by the scars of battle.
Alicent rolled her eyes. "Stop it. No dragon can be as beautiful as you." Sunfyre preened at the praise, nuzzling the Princess' side as she giggled. Unlike her twin, Alicent's only link to the traditional Targaryen beauty of her kepa and muna Rhaena were her amethyst eyes, in all other respects taking after her birth muna, Queen Ceryse. Sunfyre's hatching quieted most nasty rumors, while Daemon's sword did the rest.
Viserys, always eager to actually ride in spite of his previous hesitance, had already climbed on Quicksilver's back. "Well, wife? Is it you that is the cowardly one or I? Sovegon!" He continued to laugh as Quicksilver unfurled his wings and kicked up a huge cloud of dust, ascending into the skies.
Alicent narrowed his eyes. "We'll see who's craven." Quickly she scrambled up Sunfyre's spines and settled in the saddle. "Sunny, Sovegon. Don't let them beat us." Sunfyre's amber eyes glistened with zeal, and with a hoot of his own he joined his companion in the skies.
The sun illuminated her in rays of warmth that sparkled against the golden scales of her dragon. Alicent closed her eyes and basked in its warmth, sighing at the contrast of the cold wind slamming against her as Sunfyre flew faster and faster - catching up with Quicksilver. She remembered the first time she had flown on dragonback, just after her tenth birthday. The quiet girl among brothers and sisters fierce or fun, approaching Sunfyre with a fear she'd never know before… and yet, Alicent overcame it. She felt an innate calling to mount her dragon. An instinct within her that said dragonback was what she was born to do.
Moreso than being a Princess. Moreso than even inheriting the Hightower and all of Oldtown. Joined with marrying her twin brother, Alicent Targaryen was meant to ride on dragonback, and such had made her say the words and ascend to where only the gods could dwell.
Ten years later, married and set to depart for her new keep, she accepted it. Reveled in it. Allowed the joy and exhilaration course through her as it had for generations of riders and dragonladies before her. We are dragons! We know no law of man nor god!
None speak to us but each other!
All worries left her. All pain and tension blew away from Alicent through the gusts of wind slamming against him. She was free, freer than she had ever been.
Dragons answer to neither gods nor men.
Sunfyre had reached Quicksilver, Viserys looking to his side and narrowing his eyes at Alicent's impish grin. He kicked his leg and urged Quicksilver faster, to which Alicent did the same for Sunfyre. Only unlike with Daemon, their competitions drew a merry laugh from the both of them. Even as Sunfyre passed his elder.
Atop the world, joined by only her handsome husband and eventually all the children she would bear him, Alicent could finally feel like a true dragon. She loved court life, and being a hostess with the power of her rank and blood, yet all of it paled to being here in the skies. These moments were her refuge, where the carefully crafted facade her muna and grandmother taught her could be discarded.
"Whoooo!" she whooped, letting herself go finally. Joined by a loud roar from Sunfyre, overwhelming even the thunder from the stormclouds only a mile or two ahead of them, illuminated by the crackling lightning.
Only just then, two shapes burst out of the clouds. One slightly larger than Sunfyre and Quicksilver, while the other dwarfed them the way a whale did a fishing ship. Each bellowed, the former a sharp crack while the other was a throaty boom, to which Quicksilver and Sunfyre answered.
Alicent could only smile even in her shock, guiding Sunfyre in a loop until his golden wings settled between the two newcomers. "Sister!" the rider of the smaller, red dragon called out. "Fancy seeing you here! Shouldn't you be tut tutting over some feast's menu?!"
She countered with an obscene gesture. "Fuck you, Daemon!"
Her eldest brother, the Crown Prince, only laughed. Shooting her a teasing smile before Caraxes lurched upwards, making a loop before he dove. Alicent narrowed her eyes and gave a similar order, Viserys and the other newcomer forgotten as she chased after Daemon.
Competing with Viserys was fun, but competing with Daemon was a game neither wished to lose.
Caraxes, the Blood Wyrm, as infamous as Balerion the Black Dread or Dreamfyre to the enemies of the Realm thanks to the actions of the Rogue Prince - Daemon's title to all, one that he relished and boasted. A hard creature to top, but Sunfyre could do it. He was more slender and could boast a powerful sprint, wingbeats securing him the lead, as Alicent whooped again. Surely annoying her big brother. She basked in the deluge of the sun, ever high in the sky as it shone before the stormclouds caught up over King's Landing.
And as quickly as it came, it was over. The dragons circled over the Dragonpit, their fun ceasing as they flapped their wings, waiting for their turn to land one by one for the Dragonkeepers to feed and secure them. Sunfyre and Quicksilver from their arduous ride, and Caraxes and the finally landing Vhagar from their even longer journey.
Alicent marched up to Daemon, poking him in the chest. "Admit it, I beat you."
Daemon snorted. "That's it, no greeting?"
"Say it." She wasn't giving up on this moment.
Another snort, and then a groan. "Fine, you won, Alicent."
She cast him a grin and then leapt into his arms. "Missed you, brother."
Laughing, Daemon kissed her cheek. "Sorry Viserys. Unfortunately I've stolen her from you. She finally realized I'm the superior brother."
"Ha ha, very funny, Daemon," Viserys rolled his eyes, crossing his arms indignantly.
Before Alicent could smack the Rogue Prince upside the head, her goodsister and cousin did it for her. "Daemon, can't you for once not act like a cunt?"
"Careful, love, you'll scar the babe for life."
"Please, like you don't curse up a storm around everyone." Lyanna Stark of Winterfell, or Crown Princess Lyanna ever since the wedding three years before. She looked less of a Targaryen than even Alicent, and yet she was the chosen rider of Visenya the Great's dragon - and the wielder of Dark Sister, a wedding gift from Queen Rhaena herself.
As fierce a warrior as any other… "How is my sweet nephew?" Alicent cooed. Reaching a slender finger into the bundle of furs and waterproof oiled cloth to tickle his little cheeks.
"Vhagar puts him right to sleep… not like Caraxes, who just makes little Jae giggle and laugh." Lyanna shot her husband a glare.
Daemon laughed, hugging Viserys with one hand across his shoulders. "That's my son!" Young Jaehaerys, or Jaehaerys the Younger to many, yawned. Stretching his little arms. "I know he's excited to see Dany and Rhae again… and Myriah." Another longing expression formed in Daemon's eyes for his second bride, whom Alicent knew he loved as much as his first. It was… heartwarming.
As much of a Rogue Daemon was, he was a softie underneath it all. "All are well. And will Alaric and Ryah be joining us?"
"Tomorrow, I promise. They had to make a stop at Raventree Hall about Benjen's betrothal."
"Isn't he a bit young?" Viserys asked.
"Ten namedays? That's older than you were when you were betrothed, Vis." Lyanna kissed her cousin on the cheek. "And didn't you say at six that there was no one you'd marry other than Alicent?"
He locked eyes with Alicent. "Aye, never regretted it, no matter how much she smacks me." Daemon chortled, Lyanna giggled, and Alicent glared at him. Even as she kissed his lips.
"It's not as bad as it looks."
"Are you japing me, wife?" Maegor asked incredulously, gazing into the mirror. "I'm hideous."
Tyanna rolled her eyes. "So you decided to grow out your beard only to find out it's half-white, not silver." The expression on Maegor's face must have been mortifying for the groan of annoyance to leave her lips. "Honestly, you're just as handsome as the day we married." She hugged him round the shoulder, kissing his neck.
It was hard for him to continue to feel morose, for damned if Tyanna's lips didn't feel amazing. "Becoming old and feeble is not something I look… mm… forward to, wife."
"If you wish," Ceryse piped up from the couch, the Queen laying upon it idly eating grapes. "You could dye your hair back to silver."
He snorted. "My kepa would leap out of his grave to strangle me if I did anything so unmanly."
"Oh please." His eyes frittered to Ceryse, who for the last several moons had abandoned her usual chestnut brown to dye her hair a glittering golden blonde much like Rhaena. Gone was the more subdued Andal matron of their youth, in its place someone far more vivacious and daring - accounting for her maturity that is. "Don't you remember when I dyed my hair this color. How we pretended I was your long-lost sister from Lys, desperate to find my family?"
Maegor shuddered. Certainly he did remember. Hours of fucking left his cock raw, and when Rhaena joined in they broke the bed. "Wife…" he cautioned.
Ceryse gave an impish grin, still radiant despite the shallow crow's feet on the edges of her eyes. "Husband?"
"You're not helping by pushing down the bodice of your dress, Ceri," Tyanna laughed. "But please don't stop."
Twenty years of peace had progressed much like this - if enduring the great Rebellion was necessary to emerge into this bliss, then Maegor would endure it all over again.
The door opened at that point and revealed Rhaena, drawing the riveting attention of not only Maegor but Ceryse and Tyanna as well. Dressed in a flowing red dress and black cloak that failed to cover up her neck and cleavage, she looked utterly stunning. Especially with the circlet of Valyrian steel and amethysts framing her silver hair.
However, what lecherous thoughts bounced around in their heads were tabled for now, loving concern replacing them at Rhaena's companion. "Myriah, dear. What are you doing out of bed?" Maegor rushed to his gooddaughter - practically his daughter given how long the heir to Sunspear fostered at the Dragonpalace. "The Grand Maester said you should take it easy."
She looked too tired to argue with him, instead taking his hand and waddling to a couch. It was hard to sit with a pregnant belly nine moons large, but with Maegor's help she managed it. Bounding up to the couch next to her was Meraxes, Lyanna's direwolf. Left in the south to keep her company.
Rhaena rolled her eyes. "Come now, husband." She rubbed his shoulders. "He also said she needs a little bit of movement during the day to help with her swelling. And I thought you'd be glad to see your grandchild."
He gulped. "I am… just worried, tis all."
"I'm glad for anyplace to go outside that damned chamber, even if it's here," said the pregnant woman. With Daemon, Lyanna, and Jaehaerys in the North, it was the pregnant Myriah that stayed behind, and she was restless the entire time. "Can't spar with Daemon or Lya, can't go for a ride or a sail. Can't go and see my brother in Driftmark. Nothing." She was a perfect cross between Velaryon and Martell even if she looked pure Martell and her brother Corlys looked pure Velaryon.
She also loved her spouses, put together a perfect mix of ferocity and nobility.
"The babe will be here before you know it," Ceryse offered, kissing her cheek. "And both you and Lya are warnings to Alicent, Daenys, and Visenya on how their kepa will act when they're with child."
Maegor winced. "Bite your tongue. They're still my innocent little girls."
Rhaena rolled her eyes. "Of course, dear, of course." She looked around at them. "Did I interrupt something? When I came in?"
Tyanna shrugged. "Only reminiscing about the night Ceryse dyed her hair."
Even Maegor smirked when Rhaena's violets clouded over. Twenty years, two children, and entering her fourth decade of life hadn't dampened the lustful fire in the Dragon Queen's heart. "Not what we need right now. Mayhaps… oh seven hells, absolutely once we retire for the night, but for now we are needed in the Throne Hall. Daemon and Lyanna have returned." Now that was something they couldn't forego.
The Iron Throne had changed a bit since the Rebellion had been crushed. Thousands of new swords were added from those of the Faith Militant, forged in Balerion's fires yet again to create a wider throne. One that could seat a Queen as well as a King. Rhaena sat beside Maegor, just where Daemon and Lyanna would sit come their ascension, and his newborn son and his bride after that. Ceryse and Tyanna sat in intricately carved wooden thrones on either side, with dear Myriah as a senior Princess given one similar, Meraxes sitting on her haunches next to her.
Maegor stood as soon as he spotted his nephew. "Prince Hand."
"Your Grace," Jaehaerys the Elder bowed, only to embrace the King not long after. "Aemon sends his apologies. Poor Rhaenys' constipation finally broke and the Maesters must see to it that she is fully well before he and Jocelyn can join us."
"Is mother with them?" Rhaena asked.
"She and Aly both," commented Arya, her wicked smile never changing as she grew up. "I'm here to make sure this one doesn't get into trouble."
The Hand of the King's glare was both lessened and made more intimidating by his eyepatch. "I can handle myself, love."
"Of course, of course." Maegor understood his nephew's pain, being dominated by such powerful wives. Neither of them would change anything about it, however. "So, shall we get started… your Graces?" Arya, being of the North, sometimes forgot the court sensibilities. No one held it against her. "
Maegor nodded. "Let's shall."
One by one filed in the members of court. A lot had changed since the days of his kepa and brother, many nobles disappearing, their houses attained or destroyed in battle. Many remained, such as Lord Reyne, Warden of the West, Lord Qoherys, Lord Paramount of the Riverlands, and the cousins of the late Lord Rogar Baratheon. There were plenty of new faces, such as the rewarded Lord Bean or the Dornish Lords, while the expanding Targaryen family truly brought joy to the King.
Twins Rhaella and Aerea, his grandchildren in all but the official records, raised by Alyssa alongside her daughter Jocelyn - sweet Alys hadn't survived the winter ten years after the war.
Viserys and Jeyne alongside their three daughters. Beauties all.
Saera Dayne and her husband, a bridge between the Dornish and Targaryens alongside that of Princess Nymeria and Prince-Consort Victor.
Daenys, his vivacious maege.
Alicent and Viserys, the conscience of his family.
Visenya, his darling angel.
He loved them all, and thanked the gods every day they had survived the war.
And the crown jewel of it all entered the Throne Hall alongside his son and gooddaughter. "Kepa," bowed Daemon, as strapping a man as could ever be.
"Uncle." The beautiful Lyanna. She looked just like her father, his best friend. Meraxes bounded over to her, licking her face. Providing some levity to such a solemn moment.
Rising from the Iron Throne, Maegor approached them. Bidding them to rise. "My children. May I?" They nodded, Lyanna handing him the little bundle.
Sweet Jaehaerys the Younger His hair dark, his eyes grey. Like his muna, he was, but as Maegor brushed his fingers across his cheek, he could tell a dragon dwelt within him. "My grandson," he murmured to the boy, kissing him. "Prince Jaehaerys of House Targaryen! The second in line to the throne!"
"Long may he reign!" boomed the crowd.
Shifting the gentle bundle in her arms, Alysanne beamed as her cousin cooed over her youngest daughter. "You look just like your muna, kessa kessa… kessa kessa…" While of her peer group Rhaenys would squall while Jaehaerys the Younger would simply stare, little Daenerys shook her hands and smiled. Too young to laugh, but that would certainly come soon for such a happy child. "And she was born in a storm?"
Alysanne nodded, sighing. "Some traveling maege from Volantis called it a terrible omen. Even though aunt Tyanna disputed it through her own divinations, it's stuck at court."
"Oh pish," Saera waved her off with a snort. While she made a perfect Targaryen in coloring and features unlike Alaric, Lyanna, or her late brother Aegon, this gesture was pure Northman. Much like her wolf, who lounged in the shade a few feet away - panting in the heat. Unlike the little pup that had bonded to Jaehaerys the Younger, playing with his kepa, Lyanna's wolf. "We in the North think a blizzard-babe is a very good omen."
That was surprising. "Why is that?" Even with Arya as her wife, Aly still found First Men both enigmatic and hard to predict.
Saera grinned. "Cause in the midst of such hells, a little miracle comes along to bring love and joy to everyone in the keep. That is if they live, of course, which my second son did - as did little Daenerys. Kessa kessa… kessa kessa…" Daenerys smiled again at Saera, the toothless grin wide as Saera tickled her chin.
"She was certainly a welcome surprise."
"Cause they said Viserra would be your last?" Aly bit her lip and nodded, to which her cousin squeezed her hand. The memory was still painful - born not long after the war alongside his half-aunt Jocelyn, Aemon was an easy labor. So too were his sisters Alyssa and Daella, bundles of joy treasured by the growing Targaryen family alongside half-siblings Baelon, Alys, and Maegelle Reed.
Unfortunately, Viserra's breech birth had taken near forty-eight hours and came close to taking Aly - the maester cautioned against any further pregnancies so the three of them were content with the twins Arya birthed a few years ago. Daenerys had been a surprise, a fearful surprise, but one that brought the family of the Hand of the King great happiness since her quick and uneventful labor. As much as their great-nephew and granddaughter did.
"She, Jae, and Rhae are inseparable, aren't they?" Alysanne didn't miss Saera's cheeky grin.
Her nod was unavoidable, as was her smirk. "You didn't hear this from me, but Maegelle is sure her greensight vision was of the three of them marrying."
"Daemon would be happy."
"As would my sister." The two chuckled merrily, gazing out at the gardens from their perch on the balcony.
Aemon and Alyssa sparring together, soon joined by their half-brother Baelon and their cousins Daemon and Lyanna. It was no secret that the wielder of Dark Sister was probably the best in swordplay among them, but neither Daemon nor Aemon - best friends since youth - would ever admit it. Being trained by King Maegor himself was not something that made one humble in their skills, even against one trained by Gelina of Winterfell, Jorelle Mormont, Jonquil Darke, and Queen Rhaena.
Alyssa idolized her older cousin as a result.
Off to the left among the trees was Alysanne's own Maegelle Reed, chatting up her elder cousin Daenys. The daughter of Queen Tyanna was as excellent a divinator and wielder of blood magic as her muna, though the royal family kept it deliberately vague to avoid accusations - or mayhaps to encourage them. Tyanna's reputation has certainly warded off some plots before they even began. "Valyrian magic meeting First Man magic," Saera mused.
"We may be creating something we cannot control," laughed Alysanne. "Gelina in her last letter says we shouldn't worry though. Free Folk teach that all magic is pretty much the same just in different forms."
"Ironic… the old Valyrian scrolls think the same."
"Since when does the Lady of Starfall have time to read High Valyrian scrolls?"
A shrug. "Not much to do other than ride, hunt, or fuck. Since the Faith got wiped out there's no one for House Dayne to fight - I'd go mad without my books." That… made sense. "Gelina wishes she were here, but she'd rather be by muna's side."
Alysanne winced. "Aunt Rhaenys' joints are stiff again?"
Saera nodded. "She says a Stark is needed in Winterfell and she must stay with the young children, but her rides on Arrax are getting less frequent, and only after long soaks in the hot springs." Another shrug. "Only exercise I think she gets besides riding Arrax is…" she trailed off.
"Riding Gelina?" Alysanne finished, drawing a glare from her cousin. "Hey, you implied it."
"I don't understand what women in our house like about other women… I mean, how do you enjoy yourselves without a cock to pierce your cunt?"
That drew a snicker from Alysanne, even though she blushed. "We enjoy many things?"
"Many things?" Saera shook her head. "Alright, don't tell me."
Alysanne jumped a bit when two arms encircled her. "Greetings, wife." She calmed with a smile on her lips at Jae's voice. "What were you ladies speaking of?"
"Arya… and Gelina," Alysanne replied to a shake of the head from Saera.
Jae knotted his brows in confusion. "Alright." His mood brightened as he held Daenerys in his arms, Aly letting the proud kepa take her. "Much as I am happy to say I came here for my sweet daughter, I have some news." Both ladies were listening. "Myriah's in labor."
Two pairs of eyes widened. "Gods, does Daemon know?"
"Not yet." All three gazed to the courtyard as a Kingsguard trotted up to the group of youths. All were calm, until suddenly Daemon gasped and broke out into a run, dropping his training sword in the process. "Now he does."
Fifteen hours later, the Dragonpalace was once again filled with the squall of infant cries as young Prince Daeron Targaryen was welcomed into the world.
Sixteen years later
"Grandmother, please." Cursing as her legs wobbled, Rhaena wouldn't ever admit it but she was glad that Helaena rushed over to her. The young girl only five and ten letting the Queen Dowager brace herself on her shoulders as she steadied her legs. "You must not get up so quickly."
Rhaena's hands clenched on the cane. "I was riding dragons into battle before your parents were even twinkles in your grandfather's eye." Gods, that came out harsher than intended. Helaena was a sweet girl, same as her muna and late grandmother. While she was stoic like a dragon, there was still hurt in her eyes. "Helaena…"
"No, grandmother. I'm sorry…"
Rhaena shushed her with a finger to her lips. "No, my apologies. You were just trying to help." She coughed, hobbling forward. "When you were once the great wielder of Dark Sister, victor in a half-dozen battles, and now you can't stand without your granddaughter's care it is bothersome." She winced. "I haven't even ridden Dreamfyre in three years."
Helaena's eyes filled with tears. "If I couldn't ride Arrax for even a day…"
"I know. What Valyrians would we be without being able to ride." Coughing again, she brought a handkerchief to her mouth. Quickly folding it to hide the slight tinge of blood. Not today, never today. Today was too important for her to ruin it by being ill. "Let us head to the gardens. We shan't be late."
"My cousins would understand…"
"We shan't. Be late." Again she insisted, and thankfully Helaena merely nodded.
Outside waited Lord Commander Ryam Redwyne, his armor polished and glistening. "Ready, your Grace?" he asked.
Rhaena clicked her teeth. "You look quite dashing today, Ser."
Ser Ryam chuckled. "Credit your wee grandson. If Daeron is as fine a knight as he is a squire, then the battlefields and tourneys will tremble at his name."
"He rides Tessarion, Ser Ryam. They already would if we were at war." A smile crossed her face. So many grandchildren and great-nephews and great-nieces. So many dragons. Ty, Ceri, Maegor… I wish you were all here to see it.
She'd soon be able to tell them everything, Rhaena was sure. But not until she witnessed today's events, that was her promise to herself and the gods.
Once again, today was too important.
Near all of House Targaryen had gathered in the gardens of the Dragonpalace, joined by their allied houses by marriage - the Starks, Velaryons, Martells, and various others were all in attendance for the wedding of the heir to the Throne. Daemon had spared no expense, encouraged on by the still sharp Jaehaerys the Elder. Rhaena's brother was the father of a bride and grandfather of another. He had his incentive, no doubt.
Alysanne had been in charge of the wedding as the mother of one of the brides, and while it was in the Valyrian tradition rather than that of the old gods that she followed, the Princess went about it with her usual dedication. It reminded Rhaena of her wedding to Tyanna, a central grove of the garden chosen to hold the stone altar and the red, orange, and gold candles atop it - the colors of fire. Six black braziers made of dragonglass and gold were arranged in a crescent moon while the entire garden glowed with lanterns. Casting a proper illumination in the hours of dusk. Sun long since dipped below the top of the Dragonpalace.
Jaehaerys entered in that very moment, all dignitaries standing except for Rhaena. He greeted them all, sparing hugs for his uncles and aunts - even the normally dour Alaric gave his nephew a warm embrace. Daemon beamed and clapped his hand, Myriah hugged him and kissed his cheek, while Lyanna held him and peppered his cheek with kisses. "Muna," he whined, drawing chuckles from many. Both Jocelyn and Alysanne, the mothers to his brides, did the same.
They loved him near as much as his own muna did, which warmed Rhaena's heart. A close family, as it should've always been.
Finally, he reached Rhaena herself. "Grandmother."
"Grandson. Forgive me if I don't stand."
"Tis' alright." He leaned down and kissed her forehead. "Thank you for coming."
"Of course." She'd never admit it, but Jae was her favorite. Exactly like her grandfather, the great Conqueror. Maegor would've been proud to see him, dressed in his tan and red wedding robes, dark curls let loose and free as proper for a dragon. Daemon certainly was.
A low horn sounded, causing those assembled to turn. Rhaena shifted in her seat, remaining sitting but leaning over to see down the path prepared for this moment. Sure enough, both brides were led down the path towards their groom. Her brother Jaehaerys, his beard long and hair fully grey, guided the radiant Daenerys, while her nephew Aemon in the prime of his life did the same for the tall and joyful Rhaenys. They couldn't be more different, Rhaenys taller than her man with the Baratheon strength and dark coloring, while Daenerys was petite and fair.
And yet they both held the Targaryen violet eyes and were accomplished dragonriders. Rhaenys atop the fierce Red Queen, Meleys, while Daenerys had secured Balerion himself after the death of Maegor. They were dragons, scions of the last noble house of Old Valyria. It mattered more than their outward looks, nevertheless utterly beautiful in their own way, sheathed in the tan and red robes and golden caps that held their flowing hair in place.
They would be fine brides for Jaehaerys, and excellent Queens when he succeeded his kepa. Of this Rhaena was sure.
Princess Daenys, the only part of Tyanna Rhaena had left since her death only a year before, would be officiating as High Priestess of the August Pantheon - the restored Valyrian religion in Westeros. "In the glory of Aegarax, the warmth of Tessarion, and the love of Meleys we gather here to wed one of their sons and two of their daughters. Has the former presented himself before the gods today?"
"Kessa, Crown Prince Jaehaerys Targaryen comes before the gods."
"And have the daughters of Tessarion and Meleys come before us to be wed?"
Sharing looks with each other that Rhaena remembered in the gaze of Ceryse and Tyanna, memories still vivid in her mind even as many others had faded into the sea of time, Rhaenys cleared her throat. "Princess Rhaenys of House Targaryen asks Meleys for her love as she comes before the gods to wed."
"Princess Daenerys of House Targaryen asks Tessarion for her warmth as she comes before the gods to wed."
"And who gives them away?"
"Prince Aemon of House Targaryen, father of the bride."
"Prince Jaehaerys of House Targaryen, father of the bride."
Daenys reached behind the altar and handed each a dragonglass dagger, the fine obsidian reflecting the pale orange glow of the candles. The blood oath, the most sacred of all Valyrian rituals, never to be taken lightly. Jaehaerys, Daenerys, and Rhaenys didn't dare to, but with great certainty and love plunged in without hesitation. Rhaenys and Daenerys clasped their hands together with Jae, nicking their own lips with their blades before nicking two slight slits in their groom's.
None of them flinched, or cringed with the blood dripping from the cuts - even when they made the slices along their open palms, which were again clasped together. A slight pain to be followed with a lifetime of pleasure.
Their eyes flickered between each other, silent with only the flicker of love mixing as did the blood seeping from their joined palms. Rhaena wiped away a tear at the sight, not the only one who did so, while Daenys drew the various Valyrian runes upon their foreheads and cheeks. "Hen lantoti ānogar." Her delicate fingers wrapped a strip of red-black cloth around their hands. "Va sȳndroti vāedroma."
Attendants came forward, bearing the cups of Dragonstone wine for them to drink, mixed with their blood.
"Mēro perzot gīhoti, elēdroma iārza sīr." The wine was sipped down, every last drop. "Izulī ampā perzī, prūmī lanti sēteksi. Hen jenȳ māzīlarion, qēlossa ozūndesi." Each took a step forward. "Sȳndroro ōñō jēdo, rȳ kīvia mazvestraksi."
Rhaena sat with the most radiant smile as Jae drew both Rhaenys and Daenerys to him, hand clutching the waist of their robes and kissing both of them in quick succession. She could hear their moans, as well as the hitch in Jae's breath when his brides kissed each other as well. A proper Valyrian marriage, only the latest of many.
Wiping the tears from her eyes, Rhaena also dabbed a bit of her mouth. Hiding her grimace at another hint of frothy blood on it. While the focus remained on the groom and brides, now raising their conjoined hands in the air while Balerion and Meleys roared to the heavens, Rhaena's eyes met that of her daughter Alicent - she noticed from her seat next to her, eyes widened. "Don't say anything," Rhaena murmured. "I'll see the maester tomorrow."
Alicent bit her lip but nodded. "Promise, muna?"
Another nod. "I promise," she replied before rising from her seat to congratulate the happy trio.
Leaning against the wall with a pensive look, Jaehaerys pushed himself off as the door to his grandmother's chambers opened. Seated across from him, Rhaenys and Daenerys also stood. Their arms were clasped together, cheeks marred with rivers of dried tears. They had been sobbing, and for once Jae knew not how to ease their hurt.
It made him feel hopeless, especially considering his own sorrow as well.
The Grand Maester presented himself, the youthful face of the man twisted in ill ease. "Her Grace will see you now, my Prince. My Princesses."
"How is she?" Daenerys asked, her voice with a hard edge to it. Many underestimated her fire due to her petite beauty - Jae figured that her bonded dragon being Balerion would warn others, but people were idiots.
"It is not my place to say…"
While Dany bore a quiet, cold anger not unlike himself, Rhaenys was nothing if not fiery - a mix of the Targaryen and Baratheon blood of her parents. "You will tell us!" she snarled, grabbing the maester by his robes.
"Rhae, enough…" Jae placed a hand on her shoulder, and she deflated. Dropping the Grand Maester and turning into him. Hugging her husband of only two weeks, sobbing softly in his shoulder.
Sighing, the Maester met Jae's gaze and nodded. "She won't last the next week. Mayhaps two if the gods will it."
"Oh…" Daenerys bit her lip, trying to keep composed.
Jae kissed the corner of Rhae's mouth and reached out for Dany, who took his hand and squeezed. "Let us not keep her waiting." Wordlessly, both his beloveds allowed him to lead them into their grandmother's chambers.
Having been in battles from the Wall to the Stepstones, Jaehaerys knew the smell of death. No amount of incense or perfume could cover it up, and that this was his grandmother's form lying upon the bed - his heart broke. He was struck at how… feeble she looked. The powerful Queen of his youth, one of the fiercest dragonriders and wielder of Dark Sister before bequeathing it to his Rhaenys on her turning three and ten. She'd stoically endured the deaths of his grandfather and grandmother Ceryse, abdicating for his kepa only to stoically again endure the death of grandmother Tyanna. Even at his wedding, Rhaena had looked powerful and strong.
However, before his eyes was a woman whose body was broken. Her hair was white and sparse, face shrunken, and body emaciated. Occasionally she coughed, and her breathing was but a gentle wheeze with blue lips. She coughed again, and a tiny foam of crimson blood dotted her mouth and chin.
It was too much for his brides. Daenerys rushed to her, Rhaenys not far behind as they knelt by her bedside, grabbing her hands. "Aunt, we're here." Both Alysanne and Jocelyn were alive, but Rhaena was always close to the two of them. It was as if they were losing a muna too.
The Dragon Queen's lids opened, looking at them weakly. "My nieces… why are you still here?" she chided. "You were going to Dorne for your honeymoon."
Rhaenys shook her head, the tears returning in her eyes. Jae stroking her bare shoulders in her black dress. "We weren't going to leave you while you were so sick."
"Hush now… I was young once, and I never… regretted the pleasure I enjoyed with my loves. Your wedding was happy… and my loves would never… forgive me if I spoiled it." Daenerys leaned forward and cried softly against the sheets, while Rhaenys clutched Rhaena's hand as she stifled her sobs.
All Jae could do was stroke their backs, being strong for his brides, but his grandmother could tell that even he was having a hard time keeping it together. "Grandson."
His eyes met hers. "Yes, grandmother?"
"Come… closer to your grandmother," Rhaena asked, and Jae complied. "Tell your kepa and munas to come see me after you leave."
"Of course, grandmother, of course."
"And make sure then that you go to your chambers with Rhae and Dany and do not come out for at least two days."
"Grandmother…" Jae blushed, just as Dany and Rhaenys did - only their cheeks were already puffy and red from their sobs.
She shook her head, coughing. "No, you will enjoy yourselves. I may have given the throne to your kepa but I am still Rhaena Targaryen."
Sniffling, the two Princesses nodded, while Jon kissed the crowns of their heads. They looked up at him, still sad but with a glimmer of love in their eyes.
Rhaena smiled, her wrinkles shifting against the bones of her skull. "Keep close to your dragons, my loves."
"I will, great-aunt," Rhaenys stated.
"Balerion's been helping me already, aunt." Daenerys, when not with Jae or her friends, was always in the skies. A look of jealousy crossed Jae's face before it snuffed out. He hated himself for feeling this way - at Dany, no less, who loved him unconditionally. He had Ghost, so he wouldn't complain.
But his grandmother seemed to notice. If her frown was anything to go on. "Jae… you remind me of my grandfather."
His eyes widened. "Aegon the Conqueror?" Rhae and Dany looked up at him - sad as they were, there was pride in their expressions. Rhaenys rested her head on his side while Daenerys kissed his hand.
"Absolutely… the resemblance only grows as you grow older.
Jaehaerys sighed. "I'm more wolf than dragon, grandmother." It had followed him, the 'Dragonless Prince. Only his battle record and the reputation of his parents had kept calls to name someone else Crown Prince at bay.
Rhaena shook her head. "Nonsense." She reached forward to clasp him. "Your strength was always there, and your moment is nigh."
"Grandmother?" Jaehaerys was confused.
A cryptic smile. "You shall see… I know you will see…"
A half hour of banter and happiness followed, until the arrival of Dany's parents cut their visit short. When they left, it was now his loves that had to comfort Jae as he burst into tears…
That had been ten days previous. The Grand Maester had been wrong - Rhaena Targaryen lasted six days before she expired, breathing her last with a smile on her face before her entire family. No doubt seeing her late loves and parents and grandparents ready to lead her to the proper Valyrian afterlife.
It didn't make it any less hard. The end of an era. The end of the generation who had fought for and secured what the conquerors had forged from the squabbling Kingdoms of Westeros. Everything had changed. There was peace where there had been nothing but chaos. There was prosperity where only pain existed previously. Dynasties fell while others rose. The First Men were ascendent, the Valyrians had come back from the brink, and the Andals had been forced to adapt to survive - they didn't just survive, they thrived, even if they had to be dragged kicking and screaming to do so.
Jaehaerys knew his kepa and munas would live up to such a shadow left by his grandmothers and grandfather. By the Conquerors before them. The only question was would he be able to?
His parents thought so.
His uncles and aunts thought so.
His brides were sure that he'd dwarf even Aegon the Conqueror, they being his faithful Rhaenys and Visenya ruling beside him.
The Crown Prince couldn't know. He could only trust himself after years of feeling inadequate. The dragonless.
"Your strength was always there, and your moment is nigh."
His grandmother's last words to him still echoed in his mind.
"You shall see… I know you will see…"
Only now, as the the great pyre of Queen Rhaena I Targaryen began to burn out, did he realize what she meant. It hitting him as if a warhammer. "Jae, my love?" It was Daenerys, by his side with concern in her beautiful violet eyes.
He squeezed her hand, and that of Rhaenys on his other side. "Come with me." They rounded the pyre, ignoring the curious gazes of the others. Of his siblings and cousins. Of his parents. Of their parents. Of his uncle Viserys and aunt Alicent. Of uncle Corlys. Of Saera Mormont and Alaric Stark. They didn't call out to him or attempting to stop him, but their curiosity remained.
Their questions would be answered.
Head hung in a palpable grief, Dreamfyre was as menacing as she was beautiful - a sort of beauty only a Targaryen could appreciate. Rhaenys, clever as she was, caught on first. "It's Dreamfyre… it was she you were always destined to…"
Jae cut her off by kissing her, Rhaenys moaning into the kiss. They broke apart reluctantly, but he was mollified when Daenerys then kissed him. "Wish me luck, my loves." They only replied by hugging him close. His tension was palpable as he approached his grandmother's dragon, having lived life since her hatching with Rhaena. Grief made dragons unpredictable, but approach he did unafraid. "Dreamfyre."
The beast heard him and raised her large head. Amber eyes boring in on him. 'You're muna's grandson. The Dragonless.'
He gulped. "I hate that name, but yes. I am he."
'Why'd you let people call you that?'
"I don't have a dragon… it was accurate."
Dreamfyre snorted. 'Is that why you're here? To claim me?'
Jae nodded. "If you'll have me."
'Muna asked me to be your dragon after she passed - it doesn't work that way. I won't bond with you if you are unworthy or simply not meant to be mine.'
"I wouldn't ask you too."
Craning her head at him, Dreamfyre sniffed his scent. Her hot breath in his face, Jae not faltering. Her amber eyes narrowed, only to widen. 'You smell of her.' There was a long silence before she shifted. Lowering her shoulder. 'Hop on, rider.'
Stoic until now, Jaehaerys let out the widest grin and practically scrambled up the spines. The first true smile since his wedding night. The first laugh, absorbing the heat. Finally he knew what his brides felt when riding, the wind in his hair, the ground billowing beneath him. Twin roars behind found Balerion and Meleys fighting to catch up. Then Caraxes and Vhagar. Then Arrax and Vermax and Quicksilver and Sunfyre. The maze of dragons ascending into the sky, a proper tribute Rhaena deserved.
By the gods above, it was glorious.
