Diana looked lost to the world as she cradled little Jaehaera close, the blood on her skin long since dried, crackling and pulling at her skin as she stared off into space. Only vaguely aware of the maid gently using a damp rag to clean her skin wherever possible around the sleeping babe cradled in the princess' arms.

Rhaenyra was still abed; the babe had been stillborn, rumoured to be deformed with scales and a tiny tail, a girl. Due to loss of blood, the queen had been put on bed rest, at least for the rest of the day, for both her health and her safety as Daemon and his Gold Cloaks swept the keep and city for traitors or any clue of where the escaped Greens had gone.

A ship bearing the Hightower banner had been reported as missing by the dock master early that morning, with no sign of Vaghar in the nearby mountains where she nested. The Dragon Pit had also reported an attack, leaving several dragon keepers dead and some assailants burnt to a crisp, freeing Sunfyre from the Pit. Dreamfyre and the infant twins' hatchlings had been left behind in the chaos, not that they'd be much use to the Greens anyway. Helaena would not be riding off to war, and the hatchlings would just be a burden to cart cross country.

"We need to take action." Rhaenys snarled, her hair a mess, her cheeks still showing signs of tears, her narrowed gaze focused on a defeated Aelyx seated on a settee, his face in his hands. Slowly, the man looked up, his face haunted as he stared back at the grieving mother with dark eyes.

"Rhaenyra made herself clear; we will take no action unless by her order." He declared, his voice cold.

Rhaenys was unmoved, her back straightening with obstinance, "Her Grace is still abed with child fever. You are her consort; it is up to you to act in her name!"

Aelyx's eyes narrowed as he came to stand, his massive form looming over Rhaenys as he declared, "The Queen has spoken; to go against her is to be named a traitor. I know you grieve for your son as we all do, so I will overlook your transgressions."

Rhaenys' face blanched at the reminder of her loss, "My son died defending his queen because he believed in her. I will not allow his sacrifice to be in vain. The Greens have spilt blood; we must answer in kind. You may be content to let things lie, but I-"

Aelyx's face became an alarming shade of red, the vein in his neck throbbing as he roared, "I lost my daughter! Mine and Rhaenyra's! You know nothing if you think I do not understand your pain, Rhaenys."

"Princess Alycia, Your Highnesses," Ser Harrold declared, voice sombre as Alycia came storming in, eyes flashing with burning hot fury; at her side, a silent Tyland stood vigil, ready to report his findings.

Aelyx gave Rhaenys one last scowl before his face turned back into one of general, cold and emotionless. With his back straight, he turned to stare down his sister and good brother.

"Speak." He demanded.

Alycia's eyes narrowed in the face of her brother's disrespectful tone, but for once, she held her tongue, allowing her husband to go first. Tyland looked exhausted, dark circles under his eyes as he reported in a clinical tone, "The treasury looks to be undisturbed, although looking through the books, it seems some of the money put aside by the dowager queen and the Hand for 'special projects' seems to unaccounted for. All in all, the losses seem to be at a minimum. Lord Beesbury and his assistants are still scouring the books for more inconsistencies."

Aelyx nodded once sharply before barking, "Lord Beesbury has been working tirelessly for hours; allow him some rest before he continues. We will need him at his best to maintain our treasury in the coming war."

"War, Your Grace?" Tyland asked, his tone apprehensive, even though Alycia smirked, looking hungry at the idea of retribution.

Aelyx frowned as he snapped, "The traitors have murdered my youngest sister in cold blood. They will answer for this crime with fire and blood."

"Allow me to go as a messenger, brother. I will hunt the traitors down." Alycia demanded, face flushed with excitement. Her face dropped when her brother only shook his head in refusal.

"The Queen made her orders clear. We will make no offensive action until she is out of bed and our dead put to rest as Targaryen custom dictates." Aelyx replied, his tone firm.

Diana looked up at his declaration, her eyes clearing as if woken from a dream, still rimmed with red as she spoke the first words in the long hours since Dahlia's body had been discovered, "We burn the dead, and then, we burn them all."

The next day, instead of gathering on the hillside outside the city typically used for royal funeral pyres, the court concluded in the walled-in Kingswood, just outside the Red Keep, with two hundred guards standing ready in case of attack.

Draped in black robes, her father's crown on her head, and Blackfyre hanging from a belt wrapped around her waist, Rhaenyra stood front and center. Syrax was ready, with Vermithor flying in circles above them as extra protection. The Queen's face was pale, her cheeks sunken from blood loss and grief as she stared silently at the two pyres holding the four wrapped bodies. On one lay the corpse of King Viserys and Princess Visenya; on the other, Ser Laenor and Princess Dahlia.

Due to the mitigating circumstances, Rhaenys had agreed for Laenor's body to be burned instead of transported back to Driftmark for a seaside burial.

The Valyrian priest droned on in High Valyrian as the court stood in mourning, the High Septon having already given his eulogy, the robbed man standing with his acolytes off the to side. Despite Rhaenyra's distaste for the Faith of the Seven, she insisted the Septon be present for the funeral to give the ceremony and her new reign signs of legitimacy.

The older man was obviously uncomfortable being there, his close ties with the Hightower's well known to all. Still, he'd agreed to come nonetheless, seemingly unwilling to piss off the reigning monarch without an army backing him. Diana had no doubt he would betray them the first chance he got for Aegon and his lickspittle followers.

As the priest finished his final prayer, Rhaenyra stepped forward, her gaze locked on the pyre, her voice bleak as she called, "Dracarys, Syrax!"

Syrax let out an almost mournful cry at her command before letting loose a massive stream of flames on both of the pyres, setting them ablaze. As the fuels slowly burnt to ash, the nobles began to return to the keep, stopping and giving their final condolences to their queen, leaving only the royal family behind to mourn.

"All of this death," Rhaenyra said, voice almost too soft to hear over the crackling of the fire, the sickening sweet smell of flesh filling the air, "and for what? Because my father dared to name me heir. His firstborn child, like our Valyrian ancestors of old used to."

Rhaenys' voice was flat as she said, "It is as I told you all those years ago, Your Grace. Men would sooner put the realm to the torch than see a woman ascent the Iron Throne."

At her words, Rhaenyra merely nodded, her face a blank mask as she replied, "Then let it be so. A war of ravens, this will be no longer; blood will have blood."

** Line Break **

The Small Council chamber was full of discussions, Lord Jasper Wyld's and Maester Orwyle's chairs noticeably empty. The former had fled sometime during the Green's grand escape while Maester Orwyle remained locked in his room under suspicion of treason. Maester Gerderys of Dragonstone had been summoned to search the former Grand Maester's stores and documents for proof.

A letter to the Maester's Citadel had been sent to apprise them of the proceedings, not that Rhaenyra really cared what the 'grey rats' as Daemon liked to call them, had to say.

Since a formal council meeting had yet to happen, the posts of Master of Law and Master of Whispers remained unfilled. Diana had been named Hand of the Queen just before Rhaenyra's miscarriage. The rest of the council kept their seats with Daemon as Lord Commander of the City Watch, Aelyx as King Consort, Lord Beesebury as Master of Coin, Tyland Lannister as Master of Ships and Ser Harrald Westerling as Lord Commander of the Queensguard.

The sound of approaching footsteps had everyone quieting, everyone coming to stand as Aelyx declared, "Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen, First of Her Name, Queen of the Andals, the Rhoynar and the First Men. Lady of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm."

Rhaenyra looked both beautiful and terrifying, wearing a beautiful gown of black, red and gold, the details designed to look like dragon scales, her hair pulled back into a series of braids and the crown of Kings Jaehaerys and Viserys upon her brow.

Everyone in the room bent their heads in respect before waiting for the monarch to take her seat before they took theirs, marbles dropping into their holders with a thunk.

"I thank you all for being here. What is our standing?" Rhaenyra said, her eyes thoughtful as she took in the map on the table with miniature figurines representing their potential allies and enemies.

Daemon looked confident as he began to lay out their numbers, it already having been decided that as the most senior dragon rider and warrior, he would lead any discussions about war tactics with Aelyx there to assist, "Reports of Vaghar being seen flying over Storm's End arrived early this morning from our loyalists in the region. Aegon has been crowned there before with Borros Baratheon's backing. Also, news of Aemond's betrothal to the eldest Baratheon daughter, Floris, was announced. Undoubtedly, Storm's End will host a fast wedding before Aemond sets off on Vaghar on a war campaign. The Hightower forces were said to be marching through the Reach, although their movements are slow."

Diana cut in her tone firm, but polite, "Ravens swearing allegiance to Queen Rhaenyra have been pouring in from the rest of the realm; the Vale, Westerlands and North are ready to fight for their chosen queen… although Riverrun's raven had yet to arrive. That in itself isn't surprising; Grover Tully, old and sickly as he is, is also a cold-hearted man who has never been shy of letting his opinion of a female heir be known. He will be a pain to win over."

Picking up where his wife left off, Daemon declared, "Several of House Tully's bannermen have answered the call, including House Strong, House Frey and House Blackwood. Perhaps the threat of civil war will persuade the old Tully to change his mind. If not, I'm sure Caraxes and I can ensure their cooperation."

Rhaenyra frowned as she looked down at her clasped hands before declaring, "We already know the Vale and North stand with us; Aedan's fostering ensures their loyalty unless they want to be known as oathbreakers and betrayers for the rest of time. Perhaps being surrounded on all sides by the crown's followers will cause Lord Tully to reconsider his stance. If not, Uncle, I want you to fly to Harrenhal and use it as a base to show the Riverlands why they bent the knee to Aegon the Conquerer in the first place."

"And what of the Lords who declare for the Pretender?" Rhaenys asked, "What of those who conspired to assassinate our queen and murdered my son and the King Consort's sister? Have we even found out how in the hells the Greens orchestrated such an attack?"

Aelyx looked pained as he replied, "Alycia and my mother's informants are hard at work rooting out Larys Strong's spies. Already, a dozen have been sent to the black cells for questioning. As for the puppet master, he has fled. We have sent word to Lord Harwin Strong, apprising him of his brother's treason. Lord Strong is too honourable to harbour a fugitive of the crown. It seems the former Lord Confessor made a habit of taking prisoners from the cells, using them as his assassins, and he cut out their tongues so they could not betray him."

"Barbaric." Lord Beesbury declared, banging his hand on the table, his brow furrowed in disgust.

"It's been made clear that the Green's plan was sloppy at best. The assassins' failure to kill the queen despite her being incapacitated is proof enough. Add on the dozens of innocent casualties and leaving one of their 'king's' children behind and…" Tyland shrugged his shoulders, gaze dropping in shame as he took in the pained faces sitting around the table.

Failure or not, the Greens had managed to flee by the skin of their teeth and had spilt blood on the way out the door.

"Ravens have been sent proclaiming the Hightower's crimes for all to hear. Anyone following Aegon will do so knowing they support a kinslayer and traitor." Diana declared, eyes hard as she glared down at her clenched hands.

"This Hightower rebellion is a fool's errand. What do they expect to accomplish with only two dragons and the entire realm apprised of their crimes?" Lord Beesbury asked, grey brow furrowed in confusion.

Rhaenyra looked sorrowful as she answered, "Alicent begged me to spare her children before I went into labour. The Gods only know what poison Otto has poured into her ears over the past two decades. The lengths a mother will go to defend her children are long and arduous. Alicent will not give up, even if it kills her. And Otto will never admit defeat."

The room was silent as the council digested the queen's statement, heads bowed in sorrow and thoughtfulness. After a few beats, Daemon braced his hands on the table and leaned forward, eyes hard as he stared Rhaenyra in the eye, unflinching, "My daughter had been murdered, you were attacked in childbirth, give me the order, and I will bring you their heads, Your Grace."

"Princess Alycia Targaryen, Your Grace." Ser Harrold called, holding the door open as Alycia came storming in; her son Tyson followed behind her, wearing black, gold and red riding leathers. Alycia looked lethal, her silver hair pulled back into war braids and a sword on her hip.

Back straight, Alycia bowed her head once to Rhaenyra and said, "Your Grace, I have come to formally ask to take my son and fly to Casterly Rock to rally the Lannister forces."

Rhaenyra's eyes widened in shock before her brow furrowed in thought, while Diana paled as she stared in horror at her daughter, who looked more like Queen Visenya Targaryen reborn than her little girl.

At Alycia's declaration, Rhaenys' head had shot up, face brightening with fierce determination, "Your Grace, you control the greatest power ever known to man; I have heard word that the conflict on the Stepstones is coming to a close, my husband Lord Corlys is sailing for King's Landing."

Daemon scowled as he spat, "And you did not think that was pertinent information to tell our queen?"

Rhaenys was unruffled by her cousin's vitriol, face a blank mask as she replied, "Because I was waiting for confirmation from the maesters that my husband was well enough to travel. He was gravely wounded in the conflict. According to his raven, Prince Daemion remained behind to patrol the gullet with the Valaryon fleet on Quickfang. With your permission, Your Grace, I would ride out on Melyse to join him with Baela. She can take her place as Driftmark's regent and heir while Lord Corlys remains here to recover and hopefully join your Small Council."

Rhaenyra nodded, face solemn, "Had my good brother and Lord Corlys been apprised of the situation here? Do they know of our losses?"

Rhaenys shot an apologetic glance at Diana before replying, "Yes, Your Grace. They send their condolences and loyalty."

Rhaenyra was silent for several long moments, her gaze thoughtful as she took in the massive influx of information presented to her. Silently, she looked to Diana, who nodded once, shallowly, eyes rimmed with tears at what was about to happen.

"I give my permission for Princess Alycia and her son Tyland to fly to Casterly Rock to rally our forces and ensure their safe travel. I also permit the Princess Rhaenys to fly out and meet Prince Daemion with Baela. I wish all of you luck in your ventures. You have the full might and approval of the crown behind you."

*** Line Break ***

Alycia felt alive for the first time in what felt like years as she readied Canibal for their journey. Her sweet boy was as temperamental as ever, his black scales shivering with anticipation as she snarled and purred in equal measures as she readied his saddle.

Behind her, a suitable distance away, Alycia knew Tyson was doing the same with his Arghurys. The smaller brown dragon might not have been as fearsome as the infamous Cannibal, but he'd proven himself to be a loyal and fearless mount, putting himself in danger multiple times to defend her son. He'd had to, living in the wilds of the Kingswood, sharing territory with multiple other dragons.

Once Alycia was sure her saddle was secure, she turned to where her family stood waiting to send her off, her daughter's face still flushed with grief, tears in her eyes as she watched half of her family prepare to leave for war.

Smiling gently, Alycia held out her arms to a sobbing Jocelyn. Her darling girl had been inconsolable ever since the Greens had made their escape, and Laenor and Dahlia had been murdered. Even though she would never admit it, Alycia knew Jocelyn had hoped to marry Aemond and turn him to their side: a childish fantasy but an understandable one.

The young girl had refused to speak the traitor's name since he'd escaped on dragonback. When she'd been told of his new engagement to the Baratheon girl, she'd been enraged, screaming and throwing objects around her room until she finally burst into tears.

"Let me go with you," Jocelyn begged, clutching Alycia close, burying her face in the crook of her neck.

"No, my sweet," Alycia murmured, combing her fingers through her daughter's golden curls, "you must stay with your father here, where it is safe. Once the conflict has passed, we will fly wherever you wish."

"It isn't fair. No one needs me here." Jocelyn muttered, pulling away, lips pursed in a pout.

Stepping forward, Tyland smiled indulgently as he cupped Jocelyn's shoulders from behind, "I need you, my darling. How could I live knowing my entire family flies to war while I stand around shuffling papers."

Jocelyn didn't look convinced, but she didn't argue as Tyland pulled Alycia into a deep kiss and hugged Tyson close before letting go and stepping back as the two dragon riders climbed onto their mounts and took to the sky.

The Cannibal let out an earth-shaking roar as they flew into the clouds. High enough that any spotters below would have trouble identifying them as anything other than a bird. Their flight to Casterly Rock was to be as inconspicuous as possible so as not to alert the Hightowers to their plans.

For the next several hours, the pair flew in relative peace—the wind on their side and the sun providing a comfortable journey.

It wasn't until the Cannibal began to hiss, his head jerking to and fro with aggravation, that Alycia realized something was off, having begun to drift off in her saddle, confident in her mount's ability to navigate the familiar path to her husband's ancestral home.

Sitting up straight, Alycia jerked her head around to where Tyson had been following behind at a reasonable distance. Like the Cannibal, Arghurys looked troubled, his more miniature form weaving with uncertainty, tiny roars of discomfort making his flight jerky and uneven.

Over the sound of the wind, Alycia would hear the faint sound of her son's desperate attempts to calm his mount in High Valyrian to no eval.

"Tyson!"

Before Alycia could finish her sentence, a massive form broke through the clouds with a terrifying roar. Scales the colour of green mould and damaged wings filled the Targaryen princess' vision as Vaghar's enormous body sent the two smaller dragons fleeing in terror.

The ancient dragon snapped her jaws as she tried and failed to catch Arghurys, his movements swift as he began to bob and weave, his apprehension having been replaced with terror-fueled focus. Instead, her teeth caught on the smaller dragon's tail, biting off the tip and making Arghurys scream as he flew away.

"Surrender, cousin! Don't make me kill you!" Aemond yelled from her perch on the ear dragon's back, silver hair flowing behind him as he smiled viciously.

At his words, Alycia felt her blood fill with fury, Cannibal echoing her with a blood-curling roar as he dived after the old she-dragon, who was still pursuing Tyson and Arghurys.

"Tyson! Dive!" Alycia roared, leaning forward as the Cannibal dipped into a death-defying drop, his wings bent close to his body as they descended.

Once they were in the clouds, Alycia felt her heart rise into her throat as she lost track of her son. His mount's distant screeches and Vaghar's deep roars were the only sounds as the war dragon pursued them, withered by her massive size.

As they dropped below cloud level, Alycia looked around, seeing only forests and flat ground, nowhere for two dragons to hide. Aemond had chosen his hunting ground well.

Gasping for breath, Alycia jerked her reins, stopping their drive before they hit the trees below, levelling out as the Cannibal tail thrashed, knocking off several treetops in his wake.

With a screech, Argarys quickly followed, his wings beating frantically to keep up as Tyson clung to his saddle, face pale and eyes round with terror.

Desperately looking for landmarks, Alycia could have cried when she saw the familiar peaks of Casterly Rock's unique form far in the distance. A half an hour's flight if they hurried.

But there wasn't time to celebrate as an ominous shadow covered the land, followed by a bellowing roar as Vaghar broke through the cloud cover, her shadow the only warning they had before a burst of flame blasted forth, almost scorching Alycia in the process as her mount roared in pain as his left-wing caught the brunt of the blast.

"Mother!" Tyson cried, his panic evident as he turned to the rapidly approaching Vaghar.

"Submit! Do not make me a kinslayer this day!" Aemond roared, the smug look on his face showing how confident he was that he had them beaten.

"Traitor!" Alycia screamed, face red with fury as she dodged Vaghar's next attack. A snap of the jaws was not meant to kill but wound Cannibal enough to force them to land. She missed Cannibal's wing joint by only inches.

Aemond meant to cripple them.

"Dracarys!" Swiftly, Arghurys and Tyson made a sweeping attack from above, diverting Vaghar's attention and enraging the old bag as she turned course and began pursuing them instead, diving down to catch the fleeing Argharys with her claws.

The dragons flew below, Arghurys' form minuscule compared to the behemoth chasing him. The little dragon bobbed and weaved desperately through the trees. Still, his endeavours made little difference as Vhagar simply flew through them, barely slowing down as it used its sheer bulk to smash the trees in its path into pieces, sending human-sized splinters flying through the air. Nearby trees bent violently from the sheer force of the gust generated by its wings; human-sized splinters flew in all directions as Vhagar chased its prey across the forest, ignoring Aemond's increasingly desperate cries to halt, leaving a trail of destruction in its wake.

Desperately, Alycia tried to give chase in vain hopes of catching up to the out-of-control dragon and saving her son, watching helplessly as Vhagar opened her maw, illuminating Tyson and his mount in a bright orange glow.

For a split second, she saw her son turn, saw his terror-stricken expression as he stared down the jaws of certain death. And in the next, he was gone, engulfed by a massive bout of flame.

Alycia let out a blood-curdling scream, helpless as dragonfire incinerated her son and his mount. Disbelief, denial, grief and despair tore her heart into pieces as she watched the growing firestorm consume all in its path.

Tyson was dead.

Below, Vhagar roared her triumph, her thirst for blood and vengeance finally sated. The massive beast looked almost proud of herself as it began to circle the carnage, heedless to the growing shock and horror of her rider.

On his back, Aemond's commands stopped; the younger man had been shocked into silence by his dragon's deeds. His face was pale, and his remaining eye opened wide in horror as he stared at the dropping corpses.

Her son was dead—her very own flesh and blood.

Sensing his rider's turmoil, Cannibal roared his fury and brought itself into a dive. Snapping her attention back to the rapidly descending dragon, Vhagar answered with a deafening roar of her own and began to climb.

"Murderer!"

The two dragons collided, a loud thunderclap-like sound echoing across the skies from the sheer force of the impact, the whiplash nearly throwing both riders off their mounts. Claws racked across scales with terrible ferocity as both dragons grappled in midair, teeth-gnashing and snapping at one another as they tried to go for the fatal blow on the neck. Roars and shrieks of the fantastic beasts could be heard for miles around.

It was a scene of naked savagery not seen since Maegor duelled Aegon the Uncrowned nearly a century before. Stray and careless uses of dragonfire set the forest beneath them aflame, large acres reduced to ashes as dragon and dragonrider fought for their lives.

The air quickly grew thick with ash and sulphur as the duel raged on, the heat from the wildfire nearly suffocating the riders. And yet, neither of them could break away from the engagement. The first to do so would be placed at an immense disadvantage as the other would take the opportunity to pursue and make a few opportune strikes in the process. And yet, if neither did, the riders would choke, possibly fatally.

"Yield!" The kinslayer yelled, face red with fury. "Yield, damn you! You cannot win!"

He was right, much to Alycia's growing dismay. She had initially hoped that Cannibal's smaller size and speed would allow her to fly circles around Vhagar, slowly wearing away at her strength and endurance until an opportunity to deliver a decisive blow presented itself.

However, Vhagar had survived countless battles; she was the oldest living dragon alive. The dragon's sheer experience alone more than makes up for her shortcomings in speed and Aemond's inexperience. Her instincts hardened and honed over the many decades she had lived.

There already had been one close call when Alycia's overconfidence and impatience led to Cannibal getting racked across his flank, resulting in a twelve-foot-long jagged wound. If it had been higher, Cannibal would've lost his wing, and her son's murder would remain unavenged.

But her body has its limits. Cannibal's increasingly erratic flying to stay out of Vhagar's reach made her lightheaded. Combined with the fumes in the air, her vision was beginning to blur and her focus waning.

She was getting outmatched, Cannibal was weakening, and time was running out. If she couldn't end it soon, she would have to flee or die with her son.

"Yield! No one else has to die today, Cousin!"

No. She refused to even consider it. Aemond was hers to kill and no one else's. Even if she was to be damned forever in the eyes of gods and men as a kinslayer, Aemond would die today by her hands alone.

But if she couldn't win a direct confrontation…

"Sovès!"

Without hesitation, Cannibal broke away from the duel and began to climb. And like a shark that had smelled blood, Vhagar gave chase.

"Where are you going?" Aemond demanded. "Craven bitch, get back here!"

Alycia tuned him out, her mind focused on her task with renewed determination. She had one chance to pull it off, and only one. Blood pounded into her ears as she gained altitude, Aemond hot on her tail, both man and mount driven wild by bloodlust and fury.

"Dracarys!"

Alycia hung tight, clinging onto her harness as her world lurched when Cannibal instinctively weaved out of the belching dragonfire's path without her input, the fiery stream shooting directly over her head, missing them both by a couple of feet. And yet it was close enough to superheat the air around her and sear her skin. Her skin felt as though they were being cooked, and she could smell something burning in the air. She wanted to scream but couldn't. Partly to deny Aemond the satisfaction but mostly because her lungs felt like they were scalding with every breath she took.

Alycia looked behind. Not far enough. She needed more distance. Her body hurt; she could barely breathe; her eyes felt like they had dried behind her eyelids, and her skin felt raw and blistered. The Stranger beckoned. She needed more distance.

"Dracarys!"

A hoarse scream tore its way from her lungs as what felt like molten iron was poured down her back. Dark spots danced across her vision. She felt cold. She felt hot. Wasn't she being burned? Why was she feeling cold? Gritting her teeth, she bit down on her tongue, grinding it against her teeth until she tasted blood in her mouth, using the pain to stay focused.

She turned again. Still not enough. A binding glow emitted from the back of Vhagar's throat as it prepared to unleash another breath of fire. She had no choice. It was now or never.

"Cannibal," Alycia rasped, her tone raw and pained. "Fall."

The dragon stirred beneath her, letting out what sounded like a mournful moan. But he understood what she wanted. What needed to be done? What had to be done?

A mother's sorrow. A mother's vengeance.

Cannibal slowed. Behind, she heard Aemond let out a cry. His foe was tiring. Victory was within his grasp. It was regrettable things had come to this; that it had escalated this far. But if he could remove Cannibal here and now, it would be a significant step forward for the greens. He was already a kinslayer.

He was already damned before the eyes of gods and men. What's one more?

Cannibal flipped onto his back and folded his wings. And began to fall.

Aemond's eyes widened in surprise, realization at what Cannibal was about to do, and terror as the dragon picked up speed and velocity.

"Dracarys!" He cried, voice breaking with terror.

It was too late. Like a comet descending from the heavens, Cannibal slammed into Vhagar and snapped his jaws around the behemoth's neck. He dragged his claws across her underbelly, across her wings, doing everything it could to prevent the enormous dragon from throwing him off or arresting their descent as they both began dropping into a freefall. The she-dragon bellowed in pain and defiance as it fought back, using her own talons to rip and tear chunks of flesh from Cannibal.

Undeterred, Cannibal held on, picking up speed with every second.

"Let go!" Alycia heard Aemond scream. "Have you gone mad? You'd kill us both!"

A crazed smile came to her lips as she began to laugh maniacally, relishing in the sheer terror in her nephew's tone as they plummeted. They were no longer above the inferno they had started, which was unfortunate. It would've been delightfully poetic if they had; she could visualize it as her symbolically sending the kinslayer on a journey straight into the fiery depths of the seven hells.

Oh well, Alycia thought. What's done is done. It was a shame that she would perish with him, but at least she got to avenge her son and remove Vhagar from the playing field.

What an end; she certainly hoped it would make a great sacrifice to the Fourteen Flames.

As she fell, she allowed her mind to drift. Why had she allowed her son to come with her anyway?

What a foolish decision it had been in hindsight, knowing that Vhagar was out there somewhere. Now, she would never see him reach manhood and find a wife of his own. He would never hold titles or land or have children of his own.

What a terrible mother she must've been, getting her own son killed because of her own foolishness.

If only, if only…

I'm sorry, beloved. See you in another life. Jocelyn…

Jocelyn.

Jocelyn!

"Cannibal!" Alycia's eyes snapped open. "Sovès!"

Her dragon obeyed, releasing its death grip on Vhagar and kicked away from the entanglement, spreading his wings wide to stop their fall. The powerful jolt nearly knocked her out of her harness, jostling her violently in her saddle. For a moment, she swayed violently, her head spinning and her breakfast earlier that day threatening to expel itself from the way it had entered.

Jocelyn!

Alycia remembered. She still had a daughter to look after. She still had a daughter to raise. She couldn't just leave her alone like that. She couldn't just… Unbidden tears came to her eyes as she realized how cruel it would've been if she robbed her daughter of both her brother and mother on the same day. Her body shook with disgust as the gravity of what she had done, what she had almost let happen, sunk in.

Perhaps she truly was a terrible mother.

A terrible roar shook the air, tearing her from her thoughts. Vhagar, she realized, peeking down to inspect her work. Her heart sank slightly. There, amidst the freshly made clearing of broken trees, was Vhagar, glaring up at her with what almost resembled contempt as it unleashed another hateful roar. Not only was the beast still alive, it was in a much better shape than she had hoped. It had seemed that despite his efforts earlier, Cannibal had failed to cripple her wings, and the ancient dragon had managed to turn its terminal descent into a controlled crash landing.

And as if the Gods were mocking her, she spied Aemond, shaken but alive and breathing atop Vaghar's back. The young prince was pale, his skin covered in soot and splinters, but other than that, he appeared to be whole. She hadn't even managed to damage her son's murderer.

Glaring hatefully down at the monsters below, Alycia forced herself to hold back. Cannibal's body shook from stress and agony, the multiple wounds littered across his body, bleeding freely, raining down on the crash site below.

Letting out one last deafening roar, the Cannibal flew away on shaky wings; his movements stilted from pain as they escaped. As they put more and more distance between them and the battleground, Alycia felt herself succumbing to her wounds, her eyes closing as exhaustion and pain forced her body to shut down.

But, just before she let herself fall into the abyss, she looked ahead and saw the familiar peaks of Casterly Rock, its lion-like head highlighted by the golden sunset, casting magnificent shadows.

What a beautiful sight to see before she died, she thought wryly as she leaned back in her saddle and, with one last breathy sigh, fell asleep.