Disclaimer: I do not own A Song of Ice and Fire.

The Second Dance III

"Talking"

"Thinking"

Rhaenys

How did this happen?

That question stayed in Rhaenys's mind. She was in her old rooms in the Red Keep but there was no mistaking she was a prisoner. Her only comfort was her son, Baelon. Her and Aegon's child, born during the war.

The war.

It seemed so long ago that they had heard their father, King Rhaegar had died. Cersei had wasted no time fleeing King's Landing for the Westerlands with her children. Once they were safe at Casterly Rock, they proclaimed Lucerys king, announcing Rhaegar's will had disinherited his children from Queen Elia. The Westerlands and the Reach raised their banners for Lucerys. When Aegon sent out the ravens, Dorne and the Crownlands, as well as the loyal houses from the Riverlands, the Vale, and the Stormlands raised their banners for him.

They had been so confident, so assured, when the war began. They had the better numbers and would crush the rebels without any problems. Not only that, but they had dragons. The war would be done in half a year, they had been assured.

It was as if everyone had forgotten that the rebels not only had dragons of their own but Tywin Lannister. The man who was willing to commit atrocities so long as they brought him victory. The only thing of note that happened at the half-year mark was that Rhaenys had learned she was pregnant.

The war kept going for another two years, laying waste to Westeros. Neither Rhaenys nor Aegon ever thought of surrendering or offering peace terms. They were dragons and they would crush the opposition beneath their heel. Lucerys being king was an insult that would not be denied. Not even Rhaenys losing Seamist had stopped them.

It all came to an end at Pinkmaiden. The loyalists had won the battle, defeating the rebels, even killing Lucerys, sending him crashing down to the ground along with his dragon. But Aegon, her brother, her husband, her king, in his eagerness to win, chased after the retreating enemy. It had been a trap, one that killed him, and his dragon, Blaze. The loyalists had won the battle, but they had lost their king.

Yet they still had their queen. And Rhaenys realized they had to pull back to King's Landing. If she wanted to cement her power, she needed to be in her house's city. She hadn't been the only ones to think that. It became a race between the two armies, to see who would claim King's Landing first.

But it turned out to be pointless. An army was already at King's Landing when they arrived, comprised of the houses who had stayed silent, with the Stark banner resting just beneath the Targaryen dragon. Rhaenys had been taken captive, along with her family and their lords, just like Tywin's brood. All in the name of Jon Targaryen, First of his Name.

That had been two days ago. Now Rhaenys was left wondering what would happen to her, to her babe. What would her traitorous little brother do? There were no doubts in her mind Jon was a traitor. He hadn't responded to their raven nor raised his banner for them. Throughout the war, he had stayed silent. He must've been preparing to make his move at the best moment, to strike when everyone was at their weakest.

The door opened and a wilding appeared. Rhaenys recognized him as one of the men who trained at Summerhall. "Follow," he ordered.

Rhaenys left her rooms with her head raised, proud and defiant. Baelon still napped in her arms, uncaring about what happened. That was good. She just hoped he wouldn't be awake when she was killed.

Instead of being taken to the dungeons or the executioner's block, Rhaenys was led outside to a beach beneath the Keep. She knew this beach well, having played on it many times. Those were days she remembered fondly, when everything was better, and she didn't know about the lines dividing her house.

She wasn't the only one who had been brought to the beach. Her cousins and Uncle Oberyn, along with Cersei and Tywin Lannister were all escorted down to the beach. They weren't manacled and had no weapons. They must've been imprisoned just like Rhaenys.

Jon stood close to the water, looking out at the sea. Ghost was close by, his head resting on his paws. A single Kingsguard stood close by. Rhaenys was surprised to see it was Brianne Tarth. Jon had made her one of his seven? That was different. This new Kingsguard watched everyone with a steady gaze, her hand resting on her sword's hilt.

There were two dragons flying over the water. As Rhaenys dared to get closer, she noticed one of them looked familiar. "Is that Sunrise?" she asked. Her father's dragon had been the first to hatch and he declared it to be akin to the sun rising on a new day for their house. The name stuck.

"He flew to Summerhall after Father died," Jon said. "Daena bonded with him. They've been inseparable since." Rhaenys remembered when she and Aegon visited Summerhall. They had brought Daena a dragon egg as a nameday gift, but she hadn't been too interested in it. Had she known Sunrise would be hers, all this time?

Jon turned to face them all. At Summerhall, he had been a father and a lord. But now, even though he wore no crown, he appeared a king. It amazed Rhaenys and galled her at the same time. He was a usurper. He had no right to look this way! Yet she stayed silent, waiting to hear what he had to say.

"Your bannermen and their forces will learn this news soon enough," he began, addressing them all. "You will hear it first because you are family and because you caused this war."

"Traitorous craven," Cersei spat, rankling him with an ugly sneer. "You only dare to address us because you hold us prisoner. Where were you when your king needed you?"

"Which king?" he asked. "The older brother, or the younger? I received ravens from both Aegon and Lucerys, ordering me to fight for them." He made the events seem trivial, as if they were but a passing event.

"Yet, you did nothing," Oberyn said, all but spitting the words. Rhaenys had long dismissed the talk that her uncle hated her brother. How could they when they had hardly met? But now, looking at her uncle's glare, she started to believe them.

Jon looked at the Red Viper with iron in his grey eyes. He might've looked like a Stark, yet Rhaenys was eerily reminded of their father. "Before King Rhaegar passed away, he summoned me to King's Landing. Cersei and her children were at the Rock visiting her father while Aegon and Rhaenys were enjoying Dornish hospitality. Daenerys and Viserys couldn't be bothered to leave Dragonstone, so it was only the king and I in King's Landing.

"I had thought it would be just a father enjoying time with his son and grandchild. And for the day, it was. But that night, my father took me aside and told me something horrible. He knew that war would come after his death, that Elia's children would fight Cersei's for the crown. Try as he might, he had been left with only one option. And he begged me to follow through with it.

His eyes found both the Lannisters and the Martells. "He gave me his final will. Copies had been left for Lucerys and Aegon, but I was given the original. What Cersei and Tywin had touted was true: Aegon and Rhaenys had been disinherited and removed from the line of succession." The Martells were outraged, Rhaenys too, while the Lannisters were vindicated. "But," Jon continued, "it also confirmed his marriage to my mother as valid, thereby ridding me of my supposed bastardy. By my father's last will, I was his heir."

At first, Rhaenys wanted to laugh. This was a jape, a poor one. But the look in her little brother's eyes held no humor or cruelty. This was real. Fury burned through her blood like fire. But before she could even condemn him, he continued. "I refused. I didn't want to believe that what the king had said would come true. I left King's Landing the next day and that was the last I saw of my father. I kept the will only because he forced me to take it with me. Had war not erupted, I would've held my tongue and loyally served King Aegon, Sixth of his Name. Even when war did happen, I sent messages to both sides, asking them to come to Summerhall so we might discuss this in peace. But all I received was silence."

Now that was a step too far. "Don't try to put yourself in a better light, Jon," she ordered him. "You stayed silent, waiting for the right moment to steal what you thought was rightfully yours. Don't try and tell us there were letters. You did nothing."

Those Stark eyes found her. "And were you any better, Rhaenys, when you sent Lord Wyl and Lord Buckler with their forces to Summerhall?"

It was a damning question. Yet she remained strong. "They were sent to protect you." Despite his inaction, she and Aegon knew Jon could've been an important piece. The men sent to Summerhall were meant to keep him and Daena safe.

"Were they? Or were they meant to hold me and my people hostage in my own keep?" She didn't answer him because it didn't require an answer. "I wrote to both you and Aegon, Rhaenys. I sent ravens, riders, anything I could think of to ensure those messages reached your hands. Throughout the entire war, I sent letters all but begging you to come to Summerhall so we could all talk. Even after that disaster you left at my doorstep."

The accusation was clear in his words, as were the eyes directed at her and Cersei. For once, Rhaenys didn't have a response. Their forces might've been sent to Summerhall to protect Jon, but the Lannisters had sent men too. The resulting battle had destroyed both sides. But she remained defiant on the point that mattered. "I received no message. Neither did Aegon." If he had, he would've told her.

Jon looked right into her eyes. "And who was responsible for handling your messages?" Somehow, his words implied he already knew the answer.

She looked back at Oberyn. He couldn't quite look her in the eye. A dreadful realization filled her bones. "Uncle, what did you do?" she asked.

At first, he stayed silent. But that didn't last long underneath all those eyes staring at him. "I found his message to Aegon," he explained. "It was full of nothing, but a craven's words, unwilling to support his brother. So, I burned it. As I did with the message meant for you, and each message that came afterwards." He looked at his niece, imploring her to understand.

But Rhaenys had been caught flatfooted. What Jon had said was true. He had sent them messages. If she or Aegon had read them, would they have considered the offer? "At least Tywin was much more direct," her brother remarked. "He informed Lucerys about the first message and obeyed his command to burn it and any that followed."

Lord Tywin hadn't lost his composure even as the accusation was laid at his feet. "I followed my king's commands, as his Hand," he said.

"Yes, I'm sure you had no trouble following his command to put Dragonstone to the sword."

Even now, Rhaenys winced at the name. What happened at Dragonstone had truly started the war, yet it wasn't just the Lannisters' fault. Aegon and Rhaenys knew they would need more dragons if possible. So, they sent a force commanded by Ser Whent to take what eggs they could. They had been successful, but it came with a price of subduing the castle's men, even killing a few. But because of that, the rebels had been able to sneak a force onto the island and kill everyone in the castle. Rhaenys might've found her aunt and uncle self-absorbed about their status, but she hadn't wished them dead.

"Tell me something, Lord Tywin," Jon asked. "When you sent your men to Summerhall, did you instruct them to get rid of unneeded obstacles, like Tyrion?" That got everyone's attention. It had been no secret during the war that Tywin's sons weren't fighting for their nephew. Tyrion and his family had been visiting Summerhall when war erupted and didn't try to return to the Rock.

And it wasn't just him either. The war had split the Kingsguard had been split down the middle. Those who fought for their father stayed loyal to Aegon. The ones uplifted to the position by Cersei followed her. The only one who hadn't chosen a side had been Ser Jaime Lannister. He had stayed by Jon's side.

Tywin looked the new king right in the eyes. "If they had, they only inferred it. I gave no such order. Men do what they will in battle. Perhaps some have tried to curry favor with me."

The anger in Jon's eyes didn't burn with a flame's fury. It was cold, colder than a winter's bite. "That 'currying' nearly cost you your grandson, my lord. And it cost me Ser Jaime."

It was in that moment Rhaenys realized she hadn't seen Ser Jaime. He should've been at Jon's side, protecting like a proper Kingsguard. He was truly dead?

If it had been any other time, she would've watched with glee as the Lannisters lost their proudful defiance. Cersei started shaking her head, denying what she had heard. Tywin didn't want to believe it, but the realization was creeping in. "Jaime's dead?" he asked.

Jon nodded. "He found Gregor Clegane, your pet monster, trying to kill Daena and Gerold. He drove the Mountain away but lost his life in the process. He's dead, thanks to your actions."

The proud Lord Lannister wilted, just enough for it to be noticeable. Cersei wailed, full of grief. Rhaenys wanted to mock her wailing. For all how she claimed she and her brother were close, Cersei had discarded Ser Jaime so she could get into Rhaegar's good grace. She hadn't even complained when he was sent north with Jon.

But Rhaenys didn't. She saw how furious Jon was about the situation. He had lost a good friend because of others' actions. Despite how easy it could be to dismiss, that it was war and people die, it wouldn't change her brother was furious.

And he was king now. All she could do was hope he'd be merciful now. "What happens now?" she asked.

It took Jon a moment to appear calm again. "Now? I have to obey my father's last wishes and become king. As such, I must punish those responsible for driving Westeros into this state." He looked at the men standing before him. "Lord Tywin, Prince Oberyn, on the morrow you will be sentenced to the Wall, along with many of your bannermen. Any rewards or honors you've promised to them are null and void. Because of your actions, the Reach, Westerlands, and Dorne will be stripped of their rights to raise armies. If I hear news of a lord trying to ready men for battle, I will consider it treason and will respond in kind."

He looked down the line to Arianne. Rhaenys's cousin had joined them on campaign after her father had passed, making her the new Princess of Dorne. She should've stayed in Dorne. "I won't take your life, or the lives of your family, Arianne," Jon told her. "Nor will you be sent to the Wall. However, the concessions granted to Dorne by the Iron Throne will be stripped, including your title. As of now, you are not the Princess of Dorne, but it's Lady."

That last punishment sent Arianne off. "Do you think Dorne will let that stand, your Grace?" she asked with a burning fury. "Do you think I will let that stand? If you give that command, we will rebel against your rule. You will spend your years trying to defeat us and we will always fight back."

Jon didn't answer her tirade, choosing instead to look back at the sea. The dragons stopped their playing and flew towards the beach. Sunrise arrived first, his pale golden form landing close enough to be seen. Daena slipped down from the saddle but stayed in place, watching.

The second dragon took longer to reach them. As it grew closer, Rhaenys realized that it was larger than any dragon hatched by Daenerys. That made her realize this dragon had lived for much longer, longer than it should've. As it landed in the water, the shadow cast by its body loomed over them all. Its head leaned down towards Jon, all but nudging his side with a small croon.

Rhaenys saw the dragon, saw its silvery scales, and realized she had seen this dragon before, in a book about dragons. It shouldn't have been possible, but the evidence was there before. "Silverwing," she breathed out as she stared at the Good Queen's dragon.

Her brother looked at the dragon with a fond smile as he scratched her head. "I found her while I toured the Reach, at the Red Lake. Of course, she had known who I was long before that. She even gets along with Ghost." As if they heard him, both dragon and direwolf shared a look.

Jon looked at Arianne again, the smile slipping off his face. "If you wish for Dorne to rebel, I won't fight. I'll contain Dorne. Men will be placed at the Red Mountains to prevent passage out while ships will blockade your ports, preventing any trade getting through. I will fly over your land with Silverwing, burning what corps I decide you don't need. Dorne will go poor and hungry because of your wish to rebel. And once your people deliver you to me in order to have peace, I will give you the same choice I gave the Mountain that Rides: do you wish to die by dragon, or wolf?"

He didn't change his voice, not once, throughout the declaration. It stayed polite, yet firmly cold. What defiance Arianne had bled out as she listened. Jon let the words sink into her mind before he spoke again. "I know what your House's words, Arianne. I don't care if you wish to remain Unbowed, Unbent, Unbroken. But come tomorrow, you will kneel and proclaim your loyalty to the Iron Throne and to me." Rhaenys's cousin said nothing. She just nodded, her pale face.

After that, everyone was taken away, except for Rhaenys. She had walked out onto this beach with a proud air. That was gone now, and she was almost afraid of what happened next. "Daena," Jon called out to his daughter. "Please tend to your cousin. Your aunt and I need to talk."

Rhaenys wanted to keep her son in her arms. But when Daena took him in hers, she was gentle and cooed at him. As she walked back over to Sunrise, Rhaenys was left standing by her brother's side. "Am I'm being punished still?" she dared to ask.

"Yes," Jon answered.

Bitterness filled her heart. "What else is left? I've lost my husband and my crown. I have no doubts by the time you're done, people will blame me for the war. What else is there?"

"I'm taking Father's will a step further." A freezing fear replaced her bitterness. "You, your son, Aemond and Aemma, will be cast out from House Targaryen. From now, the line of succession falls through me and me alone."

She stared at him with unbelieving eyes. All memories she had of him, the quiet child from before Oldtown, the boy who killed Euron Greyjoy nearly at the cost of his own, the handsome man who returned from the North, the loving father of Daena, they were all gone. It was as if a stranger stood before her. "You would make us bastards?" she demanded in a strangled voice.

"No. I'm not that cruel." When he looked at her, his eyes showed a sibling's kindness and love. "You and Baelon will take your mother's name, just as the twins will take Cersei's. You will both be allowed to live out your lives in the Westerlands and Dorne respectively. But you will not be allowed to leave nor make any attempt to claim the Iron Throne."

So, it wasn't just disinheritance but exile as well. Rhaenys's pride, scarred and battered as it was since she came here, would not allow this to continue. "Do you think my men will allow this to happen? That Tywin will allow it? You left the armies outside King's Landing, brother. All it would take is a signal and they would attack."

"And die in the process," he retorted. "Or did you think the men I brought with me was the bulk of my forces?" The question stopped her short. "After Summerhall, I sent ravens to the Lords Baratheon, Arryn, Tully, and my uncle, telling them to stand ready. When I moved to King's Landing, the Rivermen were there. Now the Stormlanders arrive from the south while the Valemen come from the north and my uncle's forces march from the Riverlands. Your armies will be trapped, and they will have no chance."

It was as if the trap surrounding Rhaenys hadn't been sprung until that moment. She and Aegon had never questioned why so few banners had come from the rest of Westeros, only that they had shown. But they had been the loyalists. The rest had supported the Usurper, Robert Baratheon. They moved at Jon's command, had been waiting for the order. He must've had eyes in both camps (Varys had disappeared when war erupted).

But it wasn't just the armies that trapped her, it was how Jon had taken it. Their father's last will gave him the reason to take the crown, the men to support him, and the dragons. Daena rode the king's dragon while the Good Queen's dragon was now his. He wielded Dark Sister, and it would certainly be no effort on his part to take Blackfyre.

She had no moves left to play. Her cause, she, had lost.

Jon looked in her the eyes. "I didn't want this, Rhae," he told her, using the old name she when they were children. "I didn't want to be king. I would've been content to be the Prince of Summerhall. But you, Aegon, Lucerys, your families, you left me with no choice. So now, I have to be king."

Oh, he had to be king? A bitter laugh fell from her lips. Jon could've sworn his loyalty to Aegon, to them, and fought beside them. But that was too late now. All that was left for her was a question. "Did Father ever tell you why he disinherited us?"

Jon nodded. "You married each other, against his wishes, and made no effort to hide your scorn of your would-be betrotheds."

He didn't judge Rhaenys. He didn't have to. She could feel her father's disappointment even now. Rhaegar had never said anything when his children got married and spent months away, not even when they returned. Oh, they knew he had been disappointed, but Aegon was confident he would change. Clearly, he hadn't.

It was petty of her father, to change the inheritance so without telling them. He never gave Aegon or her the chance to explain themselves. After all, they had married in the tradition of their house. They had dragons again. Why should Westeros complain about their actions?

But whatever the pettiness her father had at his death; the facts remained the same. The dragons had all but been wiped out so soon after their resurrection, Aegon was dead, and now her little brother was king.

Rhaenys felt tired, more tired than she had felt during the war. What else could she say? She looked at Jon again. For a moment, she saw the quiet boy who had been treated distantly by others, that desperately wanted to be a part of whatever fun they were doing. That boy was gone now. A man, a father, and a king stood in his place.

Warmth and fur brushed past her side. She glanced down and saw Ghost staring up at her. The direwolf didn't judge her but she knew it was waiting for the moment she would turn against Jon. One mistake and it would drag her down onto the sand. Like Ghost, Silverwing waited to see what she would do. The dragon made no sound of warning. It just watched.

In the end, she summoned what remained of her pride and looked at her brother. "I hope your actions are worth what comes next," she said.

"As do I, Rhae," he said. "As do I." He was still looking out at the sea when she left with her son, Daena by his side.


The Second Dance of the Dragons was seen as just as destructive as the first. It was also similar as neither claimant took the Iron Throne.

After the death of Aegon and Lucerys Targaryen, Jon Targaryen moved with quick speed, taking King's Landing and pinning both sides between the city and the forces of Lords Stark, Tully, Baratheon, and Arryn. Citing King Rhaegar's last will as proof, he was crowned as Jon Targaryen, First of his Name and forced the Reds and the Blacks to swear their loyalty to him.

As he had been a neutral party during the war (barring the Battle of Summerhall), King Jon punished both sides, sending many highborn to the Wall, among them Tywin Lannister, Oberyn Martell, Garlan and Loras Tyrell, Randyll Tarly, Red Ronnet Connington, and Aurane Waters. He further stripped the Westerlands, the Reach, and Dorne of the right to raise armies. A set amount of riches from each house was taken and sent to the Night's Watch as well, a further punishment. Odd as it was, the smallfolk were not punished, only sent back to their homes. If they had taken prizes during the war, they had been allowed to keep them.

Westeros had been broken by the Second Dance and King Jon spent his reign fixing the damages. One of his first acts was to bring back the reforms of Aegon V for the smallfolk. The lords of Westeros grumbled over the loss of power but only few dared to voice their opinion. Such voices died when Lord Errol, a particularly foolish man, called the king a hardfisted tyrant who disgraced his ancestors. As the story goes, King Jon asked Lord Errol to repeat his words as Silverwing and Ghost looked on. Lord Errol quickly recanted his words and proclaimed his loyalty.

King Jon was also infamous for his refusal to remarry again, despite the wishes of many lords and ladies. Having changed his house's rule of succession to match the Dornish custom, he saw his daughter as his only heir and would not be moved on the matter. After Ser Andar Royce pushed the matter too far, the king famously stated, "I ended the Second Dance, my lord. I will not be the cause for the Third."

The king was also famous for how he ruled. The first two of his Kingsguard were women, Lady Commander Brienne Tarth and Ser Obara Sand, with both men and women considered for the remaining five. He also searched for people suited for the roles on his Small Council, looking outside the highborn. It should be noted that the closest he had to nobles on his council was his Hand, Lord Samwell Tarly, and Ser Davos Seaworth, his Master of Ship. He also expanded the Small Council, adding the Master of Infrastructure, Master of Trade, as well as men who would speak for their respective kingdoms.

His reign could've been seen as peaceful, if it wasn't marred by three conflicts, the first being the Second Dance. The second had been the Greyjoy Rebellion, headed by Dalton Greyjoy. After defeating the rebels, the king stripped them of their right to arms and declared the Iron Islands to be the foundation of Westeros's navy. The third and final conflict was the Second Long Night, which lasted for half a decade. It is often said that had the king not sent men to the Wall as well as resources, the Others would've broken through the Wall and swept through Westeros.

King Jon Targaryen made no great leaps forward in terms of advancement, only small steps. He held his duty to healing and fixing Westeros above all others, becoming known as Good King Jon. After his death, his daughter was crowned as Daena Targaryen, First of her Name. It is often said that a fully unified Westeros was the king's last gift to his daughter.

The queen did not waste the gift, bringing Westeros a second golden age that also heralded the end of the medieval age. It is thanks to Queen Daena Twinflame that the Seven Kingdoms started to become the nation of Westeros.

— From the writings of Donald Tarly, great-grandson of Samwell Tarly, Lord of Horn Hill.


End

Author's note: Thank you for all the reviews you've sent me.

So ends this little trilogy. It was always going to end like this.

I know it's likely that Silverwing is dead by the time the books start. But until I get an official confirmation, she is still residing at Red Lake. The only time she left was after the battle of Oldtown, when she felt Jon bedridden. What Elia thought had been a dream wasn't.

As easy as it might've been to label one side as the bad guy, it's not always that easy. If you want to be technical, Aegon and Rhaenys started the war because of their actions at Dragonstone. Tywin's faction just took advantage of it. And as the war went on, both sides made mistakes and caused atrocities.

When it comes to Dorne, Jon is trying a different tactic. He's going to be like the Dornish and be sneaky. There won't be any outright fighting, only blocking maneuvers and raids. Every time the Dornish people lose crops or trade, he'll make sure he's only doing it because the Martells are rebelling. Give them a couple of years, maybe a decade, and they would probably have enough.

If you're wondering just what Jon did to Gregor Clegane, he gave the man a choice: he could either fight Silverwing or Ghost. If he won, he would go free. Gregor chose Ghost because he knew that fighting a dragon would be suicide. Of course, what Jon didn't tell everyone was before the fight, he made sure the Mountain's limbs were broken. Ghost took his time killing the man and everyone watched as Tywin's pet monster was killed.

The end of the Second Dance is what I consider the end of Medieval Westeros, with Jon being seen as the last true medieval king. What comes next would be their own version of the English Renaissance and Elizabethan era. And they already have their own queen to usher it in.

I'll see you all next chapter!