Jaeron Targaryen

Kings Landing, 301AC

The air was crisp that morning. Incredibly crisp. To the point it was almost like it were the air in the North. That is, if it weren't for the lingering stench of shit that was coming from within the high walls surrounding the city. Hearing the city stunk, knowing the city stunk, and reading that the city stunk was no preparation for how bad it truly was. At Rosby, no one could smell it but the moment they were halfway between there and Kings Landing it was noticeable. The closer they got, the stronger it got until it was practically all anyone could think about and had resulted in many people emptying what they had eaten that day.

He could count himself lucky though, for he could easily escape it unlike his men by jumping on Rhaegon's back. Which is what he was doing right now and remaining right where the clouds split into clear sky. Trusting the white and grey clouds would act as a disguise for his mount so he could scout the defences from above. Along the walls there were a few thousand men and noticing with irritation they also had scorpions. The very weapon that had been used to take down his own ancestor Queen Rhaenys when she swooped in on Hellholt trying to force Dorne join the Kingdom's.

They would have to be dealt with first, Jaeron knew that much. Once they were out there were no more weapons out in the open that could harm either of his dragons. Behind the walls there were even more lines of troops, estimating perhaps ten thousand. Not a small number by any means but he had the Reach behind him now, and the Reach had much more men than that. The streets of the city had a few soldiers dotted around but not many, the reasoning being clear and that angered him even more. They cared nought for those who would lose oh so much this day. For one cannot win a war without mass murder, and they would be the ones committing said mass murder getting closer to the Blackwater where the Red Keep stood in all its glory.

To say he had been disappointed was an understatement. Everything he read about the castle Aegon the Conqueror had begun building but was not completed until Maegor the Cruel usurped his nephew to become the King seemed to make it incredible. Everyone said it was hundreds of feet tall with dozens of towers and castles built within castles built within another castle. But that wasn't the case. Granted, there was a castle within the castle itself, deducing this must be Maegor's Holdfast, but other than this? Nothing. There weren't dozens of towers, the castle itself perhaps stood at most one hundred and fifty feet. Whilst impressive, it wasn't what he had expected. The only thing that appeared to be correct was the colour of the castle with the red sandstone bricks and the sprawling gardens.

Within the walls of the Keep was where the most men were, he noticed. Clearly splitting their army up by weakest to strongest or perhaps mixing a few of their strongest in with their weakest to make it not be so obvious so that when they reached the Keep they were hoping they would be tired out enough to be easily stamped out. Once confident he had gotten a good guess at the initial defences, he flew back down towards the army and walking directly into the war council that had been called, confirming everything he had seen. Robb being the first to speak.

"We have the final count of our army and it is already confirmed that the Blackwater has been blockaded so there will be no escape across the Narrow Sea for them. They're surrounded- "

"Explain the defences again, your Grace?"

Arthur cut in, Robb stiffening for barely a second but managing to compose himself. Once again, Jaeron confirmed what he had spotted but the Knight's eyebrows creased worriedly as he pulled out the map of the city they had gotten from the town outside of Rosby. Writing down everything with some ink so they could see it all themselves and not simply imagine it all.

"Why are there so many openings?"

Robb asked again, seemingly catching on to whatever it was Arthur had clearly spotted.

"This reeks of rotten meat to me, your Grace. Look."

And so he had. Leaning over to see where Arthur's fingers were and seeing where the men were himself, noticing there seemed to be a something there but it didn't click for him. Ser Brynden stepping in and speaking the words himself.

"There's a pattern."

Only then did he see it, and now he knew it was there it was impossible to ignore. There was a pattern, a very obvious one. For a brief moment, Jaeron had wanted to kick himself over not seeing it beforehand and having to have it pointed out to him like he were a dumb child and not the King.

"They want us to go a specific route."

"Aye. Which means they have a trap up their sleeves."

This changed everything. Many people now jumping in and lending ideas as they had no choice but to come up with a whole new strategy now.

"I'll still head for the scorpions first and take those out aligning the walls. Then there are no weapons out in the open that can take down either Rhaegon or Lyrax. Everything else we need a whole new method."

And so it was agreed. All leaning over and brainstorming to themselves on what to do. Most of the main roads in the city such as the Street of Silk, Street of Steel, Cobbler's Square were all heavily guarded as the other streets were considerably smaller and more cramped. The more cramped the conditions, the more chances there were for crushes and only allowed so many people through at a time which if they met any foes going those routes then they would be massively disadvantaged.

"Was there anyone at the Winch Towers, your Grace?"

"I did not see any, Lord Jonos. But that does not mean there aren't anyone at those tunnels. I'd be worried if there wasn't."

The words were true. The Winch Towers were at the base of the Red Keep on the mouth of the Blackwater and closed off whenever there was no trade to fully secure the city. Whilst they had been closed, all it took was a battering ram- or a dragon- to blast open. An idea beginning to form in his head as he turned to Ser Loras.

"How many Tyrell ships did your brother bring back with him from Dragonstone?"

"Just shy of a hundred, I believe."

Humming lowly to himself as his fingers traced the opening and thinking hard. If Ser Garlan were to occupy the south east of the city this would pull at least some of the men on the northern gates or near the northern gates more central. With luck perhaps even to where the Muddy Way, the Street of the Sister, and the Street of Steel crossed. That would grant them more openings to break through the first few hurdles of the Lannister brats soldiers. Arthur and Robb both agreeing as he quickly mounted Rhaegon to alert Ser Garlan of the change of plan. Whilst it would make it harder on Aurane as there were more options for people to slip through the cracks, it was the only decent idea he had in his mind currently. The Knight agreeing as he also alerted Aurane who quickly barked orders to some of his captains and ordering some ships to move to be side by side to create a bridge as he called it.

"Ser Garlan is gathering the Reach men at sea and will head towards the Winch Towers now."

"We should go for the King's Gate."

Robb spoke. Jaeron searching for a moment and humming lowly that it was the south western gate right beside River Row which he knew was heavily guarded…

"Once Ser Garlan gets through the gates they will have to travel further east- "

"Which means we can chase them. And we're considerably closer to the Red Keep itself."

"We should split here- "

Ser Brynden said, pointing to where River Row forked off into The Hook at Fishmonger's Square.

"That way we can attack the castle from three sides. One on water, one from the west, and one from northwest. It'll stretch us thin, your Grace, but we'll be more evenly spread out and not tightened to specifically one place."

Once this was decided, the plan fell into place. The army beginning to move south towards the coast but still remaining far enough away it would limit their chances of being seen. Being glad there was currently a thick layer of fog this morning which was more aid than not. Today. It was happening today. So much preparation, so much work, so much politicking, it was coming to a head today. Mayhaps by the end of this day he would be in the Red Keep on the throne his own ancestor had forged in the flames of Balerion three hundred years prior. All they had to do now was wait on the sun being at its highest point in the sky so he could use Rhaegon's reflective scales to the best of his ability. If captured just right, the light would bounce off of them and blind anyone looking his way. The first hour wasn't terrible. The second hour also wasn't terrible. But by the third hour the nerves began to seep in. Watching. Waiting. Watching. Waiting. Biting his lip until the skin had cracked open and a thin trickle of blood had trailed down his chin. Some of the men were already in their cups and judging by the fact the Greatjon was considerably louder than usual he was already rather drunk.

"It's time."

Robb spoke from beside him. Closing his eyes and breathing deeply before staring up the sun high in the sky to confirm.

"Aye, it is. Together?"

"Together."

With those words they separated. He to Rhaegon and Robb to one of the many armies. If they met again, it would be within the Red Keep itself. The massive red fortress making him feel so many nerves within but it was far too late to back out now. He was here, the fight was here, and gods be damned he was not going to run now.

"Sōvēs lykā bē." (Fly and be quiet).

Rhaegon obeyed the command and a moment later he could feel the scorching heat of the rays of the sun on his back as he stared down at the city. Truly eyeing it for the last time before the inevitable destruction that was about to come. Breathing deeply before ensuring the chains were as tight as they could so he would not fall from the saddle like his ancestor Queen Rhaenys had done at Hellholt. Counting in his head to try and calm himself down before saying the command.

"Quba, Rhaegus!" (Down, Rhaegon!)

The speed his mount was travelling was the kind that were he not strapped in would've sent him flying into the Blackwater himself. Having to tighten his lips so the wind wouldn't force them to open as they got closer and closer to the walls of the city. Having a single moment to decide which scorpion to go for first and this time not taking in the mans expression like he'd done at Harrenhal.

"Dracarys!" (Dragonfire!)

A single stream of bright orange flame erupted from Rhaegon's maw which incinerated the men surrounding the scorpion before disappearing into the sky once more before heading north. If he didn't stick to a pattern, it meant he wasn't keeping himself wholly in the open which was best. Whilst Rhaegon was a dragon, he was a young dragon still, and his scales had not yet hardened to become armour like it was said fully grown dragon's scales were. Diving again, and again, and again, and again. Losing count somewhere around thirty scorpions and he was still nowhere close to getting them all. Spotting his army getting closer to the King's Gate now ready to storm it and deciding now was the time for him to take out multiple in the same spot at once. Diving once again and with a single stream of flame took out all men and ballista and scorpions aligning the walls on this gate of the city. Now, he had to get to the Winch Towers to allow Ser Garlan through. There were still men aligning the walls trying to aim for him but as they were now heavily scattered they couldn't regroup or prepare in time before they too became nought but ash in the wind. From high up he could see the Lannister armies beginning to travel more inward which is what they were hoping for but his men were already in the city and depending on how fast they were running were already closing in on Fishmonger's Square.

The closer he got to the Winch Towers; the more men appeared on the battlements to eye what they were up against before heading back within the walls of the towers. Knowing there only was one thing he could do and aiming for the windows and having Rhaegon set them ablaze that way. Whilst a much older dragon may be able to melt or make stone soft to be worked with, his own was young. Lyrax soon joining in as she followed her brother in breathing in the windows and hearing the screams of the men within as they died in agony. Together, blue and silver dragon began to blast the gate between the two towers until it began falling to pieces before a large opening appeared and seeing numerous ships awaiting entry to the city. Not staying for longer than needed before travelling west once again to see where his own men were. Cursing that the men who were moving further inward were almost upon them. Diving once again and taking out a whole street of men in steel. Not staying to see if they turned to ash or were just burnt badly and their armour would finish it for them by essentially cooking them. Like what had happened to his grandfather. Just the thought of that set the fire in his belly ablaze once more and judging by the road Rhaegon let out he could sense it too through the bond.

"Paktot!" (To the right!)

The silver dragon obeyed as they got closer to the Red Keep again, seeing the bay filling with Reach men and some Crownland's ships too who were trying to fight back but they were too overwhelmed. A flash of green caught his eye as a bucket was thrown from one ship to one of the Reach ships where it promptly went up in flames. Eyes widening in shock and realising just what trick the Lannister had up their sleeve. Arthur had been honest with him that his grandfather had much wildfire made but where he stored it was unknown. Everyone assuming it had been used against Stannis. Either, this was the remnants, or there was much more of it at play. This meant he could not attack the centre of the city where the Guildhall of the Alchemists was because there was no saying how much was there. Thus limiting where they could attack and frantically trying to remember the path they appeared to be forcing them to go on before they changed their mind.

Unless it was a trap all along.

No, Jaeron could not think like that. It was too late now, the fight was well underway, running away now would mark him a coward and no one wanted to follow a coward. Gritting his teeth so hard he was likely grinding them into dust before continuing on towards the Keep and was joined by Lyrax once more as they began taking down the walls surrounding the bright red bricks. Men were screaming, people were running, some throwing down their swords in surrender. The smoke from the many fires alight almost making him choke and making it very difficult for him to see ahead of him hence urging both dragons higher into the sky again to get a better view. The smoke was so thick he could no longer see his own army, nerves settling in once again but he could not dwell on such a thing.

He watched from afar as the walls began to collapse eventually to leave an opening up to the Keep atop Aegon's High Hill, seeing men down on the beach fighting against the Reach men who had now moved to be on land and were steadily getting closer and closer to the Mud Gate hence why he headed there to open it from within. Perching his mount on a large building across from the wall and having Rhaegon stretch his neck down so the flames from his maw were directly at the gate itself which opened up that area as men began flooding within the city walls where he saw some northmen fighting now but from how much smoke there was he could not make out the sigils they wore. Now, if he could cut off the Lannister armies…

The answer came a moment later. Spotting a large tower nearby that would do just the job. Yelling to as many of his men as he could but there was no use for some would absolutely die in the move. There's no such thing as a war without mass murder. There's no such thing as a war without mass murder. The words were spinning in his head now like a catchy tune a bard would sing at a glorious feast with fools and singers and ladies and lords mingling together in their many colourful outfits. Something that may happen again soon when they succeeded because it was closing in now. The iron taste of victory lingering on his tongue as he went straight for the tower and blasting the bottom of it to weaken the foundation before both Rhaegon and Lyrax used their claws and tails to push it over to create a barrier between the men.

"To the Keep!"

Numerous cheers echoed at this once the chaos calmed somewhat from shock at what he'd just done. Heading towards the Keep itself now as people began pouring in the gates and getting closer, and closer, and closer. Landing Rhaegon and finally clambering free of his back because his time on dragon back during this battle was at an end. Unsheathing both Dark Sister and Longclaw and spinning them as he waited on the men to appear. The first to do so was Lord Tytos Blackwood, followed by Lady Dacey Mormont, then Ser Arthur appeared who was by his side a moment later.

"Robb?"

"Alive, he's heading this way right now, your Grace."

So much relief washed over him at those words. Whilst still furious over his brother undermining him so openly, he was family. And he had so little family, he was going to waste as little of it as he could.

"Together?"

"Aye."

Arthur answered his question. Taking a deep breath before running towards the castle as numerous arrows rained down from above. Running in as many directions as he possibly could so he would be harder to hit before pressing his back flat against the red bricks once he reached it.

"Sīr!" (Now!)

It was Lyrax who answered. Diving down and breathing a jet of dark orange flame on the men who were firing arrows their way and using her wings to further fan the flames and watching in fascination as they spread.

"Follow me, your Grace."

Jaeron didn't see any point in disagreeing, following his Kingsguard along the walls until they were by a small alcove where there were very few men situated which they dealt with easily. Dark Sister and Longclaw getting their first taste of blood they thirsted for this day. Arthur pushing against the wall which confused him but soon his mouth was hanging wide open as it opened like a door.

"Your father liked to escape the Keep every now and again, this was one of his favourite routes."

Both entered and the wall was closed behind them. Seeing a row of torches aligning the walls which were not lit up, wondering where the dim light was coming from but this was answered as there was an opening in the ceiling a few metres ahead letting in the sunlight.

"Where does this take us, Ser Arthur?"

"The innermost courtyard."

Good. The sooner they got to the heart of the Keep the better. He could hear the sound of steel clashing against steel confirming the armies had come to blows within the walls now. So close. So close. He could almost taste it, could almost feel the Iron Throne he would soon be sitting atop beneath him, could see the men being brought into the throne room to be judged.

Deeper in they got, until there was not a single bit of light at all and trusting Arthur remembered the way correctly. How long they had been walking for, he knew nought. But soon, they were out in the open once more where men were upon them a moment later at seeing who they were. It was an ugly fight. Nothing honourable whatsoever. Kicks, punches, slashes, stomps, biting. Any kind of way they could fight back, they were fighting back. Staring in awe for barely a couple of moments as Arthur cut through them all like they were warm butter. More men entered now and breathing a sigh of relief at seeing one of them. Auburn hair caked in blood, debris, and mud, but there was no denying those bright blue eyes.

The remaining men were soundly defeated as Robb walked over to him and clasping him tightly and patting his back so hard it almost winded him.

"Good to see you still alive."

Robb did not reply, simply nodded his head in agreement as they headed for the throne room itself, allowing everyone else to finish off the fighting for them. It was a grand room, with numerous pillars down the centre and tapestries hanging from the ceilings of a quality even Winterfell did not possess. Banners of lions hanging too which he wasted no time in pulling down and taking great pleasure once not one was in the open anymore. Only then did he look straight ahead.

That's it?

That was the only words in his mind as he stared at the Iron Throne. The stories said it was made up of thousands of swords and stood numerous feet tall and was twisted and monstrous to look upon. But it wasn't. Granted, it was still imposing looking, but it did not meet his expectations one bit. But there was a pull towards it. Itching to touch the blades and to see if it spurned him.

"Are you going to take it, brother?"

Jaeron thought for a moment before the answer came to him.

"Nay, I will not sit the throne today. For the Iron Throne is a symbol of peace, the end of war. And the war is not yet at an end."

How long they remained there was up for debate. But it did feel like seconds had passed before men began flooding within covered in blood and debris too all with grins of glory on their face. Ser Loras walking forward and kneeling in front of him.

"We have won."

The relief that washed over him was unimaginable. Looking around for the prisoners and creasing his eyebrows he saw not one Lannister.

"I am guessing Joffrey Waters is dead, Ser Loras?"

The Knight gulped before he spoke the dreaded words.

"We did not come across any Lannister's, your Grace. It appears they have fled the city."

Catelyn Tully Stark

Riverrun, 301AC

Whilst no one had actually spoken the dreaded words, everyone knew Hoster Tully did not have much time left. Whether that be days, weeks, or mayhaps even months, no one could say. But it was obvious he would not last until the end of this year.

It was a difficult pill to swallow. Whilst Catelyn had not seen her father for many years, he was her father. That was a fact that could not be refuted and she had been by his side essentially being trained as his heir until Edmure was out of the perilous age where young babes were most like to perish from many reasons. But she wasn't his heir, she never had been his heir, and she'd known that. Being content simply to help out where she could and when the time came where her own match had been made she had done so without qualm. She'd been lucky, as not many Ladies ended up matched with someone they even liked never mind grew to love like she had done with Ned.

Even now, just thinking his name hurt. And anger burned deep in her heart which was growing colder by the day as her father weakened evermore for vengeance. The Lannister's would pay, and they would pay in blood for all they had done and were currently doing. Rip every last one of the golden haired pricks out root and stem so they could not breed again. Have Casterly Rock demolished and all traces of the House to disappear like House's Tarbeck and Reyne.

The raven that arrived not long before from the Eyrie had lit the fire once more that was beginning to dim. How could she? How could Lysa defy her own blood so openly by essentially allying herself with the lions? The very people that she accused of murdering her husband and starting this entire nonsense? Whilst she wasn't allied with them officially, she pretty much had. Knowing there had to be civil unrest in the Vale over the match she had made for herself. Lysa and Petyr had always been the closest of them all, almost tied at the hip they were but Catelyn knew he at least partially played it up. It stank of rotten meat to her as she still recalled the day he had challenged Brandon to a duel for her own hand in marriage. Like that would've ever been considered. She was the eldest daughter of House Tully, the Lord's Paramount of the Riverland's, it was blasphemous for someone of their stature to wed someone from a castle that was more a tower and a main hall on a tiny plot of land in the Fingers.

She hadn't told her father yet of what her sister had done, of how she had turned her back on her own blood so openly. Wishing there was a way to find out just who in the Vale were still supporting her. The Royce's most certainly would not be, nor would the Arryn's of Gulltown. Yohn had watched Ned grow up and her husband often said he was almost like a third father to him, and they did trace their lines back to the First Men instead of to Andalos like her own family did. First Men were loyal, they would never break a bond as such with one another. Trying to remember from her time in the Eyrie when she was trying to convince her to let Tyrion Lannister free who were cheering on her every move but even thinking of then just made her inexplicably angry.

But today, that was not what was making her angry. This time, it was Edmure who was making her angry. Thirty-four name-days and not once had he taken a wife nor did he have any heirs. Something that needed to be sorted and soon for now their father was dying and when that happened her brother would be Lord Paramount of the Riverland's and Lord of Riverrun too. Their House relied upon him to take a wife and to have children since their uncle had now taken a cloak of white and this vowing himself to chastity and never taking a wife or having children.

"How many times do I have to tell you Cat, I will not- "

"I don't give a damn what you want Edmure, this is what our family needs! This is not about you, it is about us all and House Tully as a whole. Unless you want our House to disappear from the map?"

His face was almost as red as his hair at that remark, the fight having gone on for days at this point and she was nearing her wits end. Having to force herself not to tug on her own hair which was beginning to turn grey from age and stress of everything that had been occurring.

"You do not get to talk to me on what to do with my family considering you let the Kingslayer free- "

"I did so because as much as I despise the man he is much better use to us alive than dead. Alive and in our possession, Tywin cannot attack outright- "

"Yet he is not in our possession because of what you done- "

"Oh would both of you shut up!"

Utherydes Wayn spoke up, neither having noticed the steward of Riverrun coming up to them. For a moment, Catelyn bristled but calmed down at seeing the expression on his face.

"Our father?"

"Has weakened more, my Lady. The Maester has administered a higher dose of milk of the poppy to help with the pain but alas he believes it will not be long now."

She nodded his way as he left the room before she turned to her brother once again.

"For the last time Edmure, you must marry. For our House, for yourself, and for our survival. You may not even like her never mind love her, but it is your duty and what are our words?"

He bit his lip hard to hold in his retort but answered her question.

"Family. Duty. Honour."

"And why in this specific order?"

"Because duty should always come before honour, and family should always come before duty."

She nodded, confirming everything. Sighing deeply before nodding his own head.

"I will take a wife, if just to get your sharp tongue from prying at my skin until it breaks and bleeds. However, it will be of my own accord and not solely for duty Cat."

It was something at least, she mused to herself. Given they'd been fighting for days over the matter and according to Utherydes even longer with their father before his illness took grip of his body in its cold dead hands, it was a step. Knowing now she had no choice but to concede to the term and nodding once again.

"You are in a good position; many Ladies will be throwing themselves at you brother mine. But remember, you are a Tully of Riverrun, you will never not be a Tully of Riverrun. Family always comes first no matter what."

It was the following day where they were all breaking their fast before the Maester arrived with Utherydes carrying a small piece of parchment that had likely come in by raven. Moving to stand to receive them before remembering this was not her castle anymore, Winterfell was. She was only here because she was technically a prisoner for releasing Ser Jaime from their grasp even if it was for a better cause.

"A raven from the capital, my Lord, my Lady."

My Lord. It was strange to hear those words directed to Edmure for her entire life said title had solely been their fathers. Hearing it made the inevitable more damning and still it did not get any easier.

"What is the news, Utherydes?"

The steward took them both in before a large smile adorned his face as he handed it towards them. Turning it to the side so they could both read the words on it and having to force the tears down that it was Robb's hands confirming he was still alive. And if it had come from Kings Landing that meant one of two things. Either he was a prisoner and was writing under duress or had snuck a letter to them, or they had succeeded. Heart hammering and fingers trembling in anticipation as she read the words fervently. And when she finished, a massive wave of relief overcame her.

"They've done it. They have Kings Landing."

Immediately, Edmure stood up and began ordering servants to start arranging a massive feast in celebration for the victory. But this was shot down as she took in the expression on the Maester's face who handed out another scroll for her and her only. Stepping away when her brother wasn't looking to head towards the chamber her father lay dying before opening it, this time seeing it was Jaeron's hand confirming this was sent a couple of hours after Robb had sent his own. Detailing the battle and of the victory and that he had not taken the throne yet for reasons he did not put to the parchment. Eyes widening as she got to near the end where it was confirmed not a single Lannister was in the Red Keep when they took it, the place more or less being abandoned for them to take with little force. But why had they left so many men behind to hold the city? Something did not make sense here, but she could not figure out exactly what it was. How did so many people just disappear from right under their noses and left no trace behind?

Unless…

No. Surely not. Surely there wasn't someone on their side openly working against them by feeding information to the Lannister's. But it made horrifying sense, especially because Jaeron had written to let her know of the battle of Duskendale where Randyll Tarly had conveniently attacked at the exact time they had arrived at the town in question. Betrayal. Betrayal, betrayal, and even more betrayal. How much more of it could they take? Anger beginning to boil deep within once again as she grabbed something from the side table and threw it against the wall.

"Cat- "

Her father spoke, voice barely above a whisper now. At least he wasn't confusing her for Lysa anymore which was a start. Having come to the damning realisation of what he had done to her sister and whilst it made her feel great sympathy, this was not a reason for her to do what she had done.

"I'm here, father."

His hand slipped into her own and squeezed ever so lightly whereas before he was ill it was so strong she could've sworn at times he would break her fingers.

"Jaeron has Kings Landing, father. The end is near now."

"Cat- "

He said again, realising then he did not register that it was her and was instead asking for her. That shattering the little hope she still had within at everything.

"It's me father, little Cat."

Once again, he squeezed her hand as if assuring himself that it was her and he wasn't just imagining her. Turning his head closer towards her but not right at her and wondering if this was all he could move his head now to look for her. Standing up so she was in his line of vision and his lips opened in what could only be a smile but it was not the large smiles he would keep for when they were all alone anymore. A further three days passed since that day when the raven from Seagard came with the dreaded words no one had even so much as considered being a possibility. But it was happening, and the pit that was already deep in her stomach dropped even deeper.

Balon Greyjoy had sacked the town beside Seagard with a rebuilt Iron Fleet.

Rhaenys Targaryen

Qarth, 301AC

Her heart was hammering. A mixture of anger, fear, and annoyance as she all but ran from the manse of Xaro Xhoan Daxos into the streets of the city. Not speaking a word to anyone as she done so and despite the yells of Ser Jorah and Xaro, she refused to stop. Never would she stop. Dodging people on the streets, children running around naked as they often did, piles of camel shit that had yet to be cleaned up, and making sure not to step onto one of the lower cobbles of the ancient streets of Qarth to not lose her footing.

No. She could not lose it. Not now. Not ever. It was the only thing she had left of her father and one of the only things which tied her to her name considering her colouring was all Rhoynar. Black hair, dark eyes that may as well be black, caramel coloured skin with the faintest hint of olive. Nothing about her screamed Targaryen in looks. Yet she was, she was the daughter of Prince Rhaegar Targaryen and Princess Elia Martell, and the egg had been left for her specifically and not once had she let it out of the chest she ensured it was locked in at all times. Wondering how anyone even got into it in the first place as the lock had not been forcefully opened and was sitting to the side. Which meant either they picked it, or something else was going on here that really set her on edge.

"Rhaenys!"

Sansa called out, turning her head to see the redhead and her aunt desperately trying to catch up with her followed by Atho of the Dothraki, Ser Jorah, Shiera, and Mychelah. Only then did she pause to let them catch up with her.

"Rhae, you know not to go there- "

"They have Daenerys' dragons! They have my egg! We need to get them back!"

She didn't wait a minute before she was running again. The woman who had raised her huffing loudly before running after her as she got closer and closer to the tower she had been told to avoid not that long ago by Shiera. Where the Warlocks lived. Where the Undead lived. A place that was considered cursed and a place she now had to enter. Yet that wasn't what she was fearful over, what Rhaenys was fearful over was losing the one thing she had to tie her to her identity. There were six dragons, and she was certain her egg would hatch too given everything now the secret to doing so had been unlocked by her youngest brother. How Jaeron had figured it out, she knew nought, but mayhaps one day she would be able to ask. One thing was for certain though, once retrieved they were getting out of this city immediately. No more questions asked.

Soon, she broke out into a large open plaza surrounding the tower and gulping as she took in the sheer height of it. Lys had tall buildings, many of which that had been built by Valyrian's of Old, but this made those look like they were just ordinary buildings and not ones of grandeur.

"There is darkness in those walls. To go west you must go east. To go north you must go south. To see the light you must pass beneath the shadow."

Shiera spoke the same words she usually did, barely above a whisper almost as if she were in a trance. Beginning to walk around in search of an entrance but there was none. Confusion whirring in her head as she looked everywhere in case it was perhaps an underground entrance. Judging the confusion on both Daenerys' and Sansa's faces, they were much the same as she began walking around again with only them as the others remained behind. Once. Twice. Thrice they walked around and there was nothing. It was only on the fourth time where Sansa opted to remain behind with everyone and they walked around before she seemingly just closed her eyes and then she was surrounded by bricks. Turning behind her and seeing more bricks. In front of her even more bricks. Above her, beneath her. All around her.

"Shiera is right, this place must be filled with dark magic."

Rhaenys gulped before using her arms on each side to feel the tunnel around her for where she was going as she was not carrying a torch. Only realising then she was alone.

"Dany!"

There was no answer. Just emptiness. Now that she was thinking about it, she couldn't even hear herself breathing and that was a terrible thought to her. But she was in here now, and she was going to find her egg and get out of this city at the soonest opportunity.

"You shall drink of truth and wisdom, Princess Rhaenys Targaryen."

She paused then, frantically looking around for who had spoken for she recognised that voice. Still hearing nothing other than this though and her unease was palpable before there was a dim orange glow up ahead getting larger, closer, warmer. Recognising Pyat Pree who was holding a torch in one hand and a vial of a deep blue liquid in the other. His blue lips from drinking the concoction setting her even more on edge but she would not cower. She was a Princess of House Targaryen; she had fire in her blood and she would not cower to a Warlock of Qarth.

"Drink this Princess, and you will taste truth and wisdom. Of futures and perhaps. Of pasts and deceit."

"If I drink it will you take me to my egg?"

He chuckled deeply as he handed out the vial to her and she looked down to swirl it a little before looking back up only to see he was gone again. But he had left the torch for her on a prong on the wall which she was glad for. A vial of shade of the evening, said to taste like rotting corpses but if he spoke true then it would be worth it? Wondering exactly what it was that she would see and what he meant with his words. Deciding then it was worth the risk as she plugged her nose with one hand and gulped down the liquid in one go, immediately gagging and having to force herself to keep it down as the taste took over every single one of her senses. Rotten corpses indeed, or what she imagined they would taste like as it was somewhat similar to the smell. Grabbing the torch and beginning to walk again. At first, she came to a door which opened into a large circular area indicating she was at the centre of the tower. Surrounded by six other doors and wondering which one to take.

"The one on the right will show you truth."

"Who's there?!"

She yelled, fear momentarily gripping her before pausing to breathe a few times which she regretted instantly as the taste of that damned drink came to the forefront again.

"The second to the right will show you falsehoods."

Another voice, a woman's voice.

"The third to the right will who you the past- "

"I need to know which one will take me to my egg. None of these damned riddles."

She muttered to herself before Shiera's words came to focus. To go west you must go east. Realisation dawning on her as she moved to the door farthest to the right and came to another long tunnel.

"To go west you must go east. To go north you must go south."

Now she was chanting those words over and over again under her breathe. Looking around for any sign of well, anything. Alas, there was nothing for her to find. Coming to a staircase which she ascended only to come to another large open area as confusion wracked through her brain. If she was in the centre before and the tunnel she had walked down was straight, why was she in the centre again? Was she in the centre again? Or was it all a trick of the mind?

"Dreams are fickly, prophecies are fickly. Sometimes they come true, sometimes they do not, sometimes they don't come true until hundreds of years later."

Another voice. Stopping to look around for anyone but she was still alone.

"I'm going mad- "

"You need to run. I have something arranged, but it won't go ahead if you don't run. Take her, go far away. Qarth or Yi-Ti or Lys or Tyrosh or even bloody Asshai. Leave!"

That was a Dornish accent. A woman's voice. One of panic like whatever she was asking was a life or death situation but not having time to think it through. As she walked out of the door she had just entered expecting to see stairs again. But it was another tunnel. Turning back around and the door she had just entered and left was now gone. The tunnel going on even further down. Breathing beginning to get faster before pausing to gather herself for a few moments. Once she had calmed down, she continued to walk forward to where this tunnel was now supposedly taking her. Have faith. Have faith. Have faith. Get your egg. Get your egg. Get your egg. Those words were spinning around in her head which gave her a burst of vigour as she stood a little taller and continued walking forward. Coming to a large room with a long table with what appeared to be a dozen people sound asleep. But it wasn't this that caught her attention. What did was the massive beating heart directly above them all in the centre, blood dripping from it onto the table yet somehow there was not a single mark of blood on the table itself.

"Seven dragons."

The voice sounded as ancient as the people seated around the table looked.

"Three heads."

Another one again which sounded equally as ancient.

"Five castles far to the east."

That one sounded closer and she frantically looked around before realisation dawned it was the people seated here that were speaking. Having to force the scream down that was desperate to erupt from her throat as she watched their lips moving.

"Fire and ice. Ice and fire. Fire and water. Water and fire. Fire. Ice. Water."

None of this was making any sense whatsoever but she could not see any way to leave this room now as the tunnel she had just walked down had seemingly vanished like the door and stairs had only minutes before.

"I don't- "

She began but was cut off.

"To go east you must go west. To go south you must go north. To go to the shadow you must pass through the light."

The opposite of what Shiera said. The complete opposite. Wondering what in all the hells this meant or if this was even happening or if it was a trick by the Warlocks.

"Two waves there will be. One from the west, and one from the south. One wave will meet fire and one wave will meet ice. So much ice, child- "

She was done here. That much was certain. Walking around them all and blocking out the words they were speaking and by the time she was back to where she had entered there was a door again. Opening it only to come to an opened section again in a perfect circle. Something was very wrong about this place, that was for certain. Dark magic. Very dark magic. For how else did a building change structure like such? Unless she was just imagining it all but Rhaenys had never been someone who had a vivid imagination so she doubted that was the case. This time taking the door further to the lest and paying no attention to the voices and instead going by her gut. How many tunnels and doors she had walked through she could not say.

That was when the images began. First she saw a dark skinned woman whose face was hidden from view screaming at a lighter skinner woman with golden blonde hair. Then she saw a silver-haired man looking at a baby and whispering about a Prince. Followed by what felt like a shard of ice piercing her through. They were coming so fast. So fast that she felt like she were trying to recall a dream she had woken up from. The body of a beast like a bear or a wolf with the head of a man. Getting faster and faster the more she walked until all Rhaenys wanted to do was stop and scream in frustration.

"Burn them all! I want their heads. Tell the falcon to hand their heads over to me and you will bring me your fathers too!"

Another silver-haired man but this time the face was not hidden. Gaunt, covered in scabs, looking like he hadn't washed in weeks. Knowing exactly who that was and almost making her shiver in fear. Remembering the story Mychelah had told her that the first time she had been presented to the Mad King he wanted nothing to do with her due to 'smelling Dornish'. A snake coming out of the grass and snapping directly her way before pulling back when she put her torch between herself and it and it hissed in anger at being stopped. Eyes so blue they did not look real walking closer. Ever closer. The air getting colder than it ever had until she was completely surrounded before a blue dragon flew overhead breathing fire down on the blue-eyes creatures.

And the noise they made. Such a terrible noise. Like an ice cube shattering or a blunt blade being pulled from something else metal, the way a knife scraped against a plate or chalk on a board. But amplified. In comparison the others were simply white noise. And then she saw herself in a large garden with a silver haired man by her side who looked so much like the Mad King did there was no denying who he was. Was this what her life would've been had her father succeeded? Wed to Viserys in House Targaryen's custom? If so, she was glad for such a thing as she'd heard more than enough from Daenerys on how cruel her brother had been. Two people sparring up ahead; one with black hair and the other with bright silver hair but she could not see their faces again. But it was clear who it was from their clothing.

A pride of lions running from many trees they had been using as shade before the trees went up in flames. A white and orange dragon tangling with a silver dragon mid-air but it did not appear as though they were fighting and almost dancing with one another. A sea of gold turning green from rot at how fake it was before disappearing. A white wolf running into a snowstorm. Dragon heads looking down on her from dark green to silver to black to gold to red to blue. All with different horn patterns and feeling their eyes bore deep into her.

"We can teach you the secrets of the Dragonlord's of Old Valyria."

That was one of the voices of those in that room again, she recognised it. Frantically looking around but they were not here. So how was she hearing them?

"You can run from fate child, but fate will always come."

"Then tell me my fate!"

She screamed back. Wanting an answer. Wanting her egg. Wanting to know what was going on. And wanting far away from this accursed city and never to step foot in it again. Then there was a wave coming from the west which hit her in the face but she did not feel wet afterwards. Turning and seeing a tentacle reach out but she jumped out of the way just before it could grab her and pull her under. A man locked in a dungeon with eyes as blue as the waters surrounding Lys, to shadows dancing around her in shapes which made her question whether or not whoever was casting them had bones. Then she was in a library, a burning library. A young boy running in clutching two eggs and ignoring the body on the ground that had long perished. With hair as dark as the night sky with pale eyes but it was difficult to say what colour they were in the raging fires. Chanting words under his breath as his clothing burned but the eggs hatched. A silver dragon and a blue dragon emerging. Then she saw a woman burning at a pyre and once the raging inferno disappeared she saw Daenerys standing up clutching three dragons to her naked body. And finally, she saw Aegon slit the throat of an unknown man before throwing him into a pyre before stepping in himself. Stepping out with a white and orange dragon.

And then it all stopped. Rhaenys immediately collapsing to her knees and having to force herself not to empty the contents of her stomach at how quickly it had all ended. Only then did she feel the cool metal on her wrists. Looking around in confusion as her senses slowly came back and seeing her aunt opposite the room also chained up. Between them on a table were her egg and her aunts dragons. The dragons themselves also chained up but her egg was deliberately just out of reach of everything.

"Welcome, Princess Daenerys and Princess Rhaenys."

Pyat walked in surrounded by a few other Warlocks and ensuring there was no escape for them.

"Unchain us right this minute!"

Her aunt yelled out but it fell on deaf ears. Seemingly going numb as she stared at the dragons and the egg and creasing her eyebrows as she could've sworn there was a small quiver from her egg there. Shaking her head as one of the dragons must've hit it with a tail or something.

"Why us?"

Rhaenys asked, waiting on whatever answer they would come out with now.

"We are Warlocks, we are magic. However, we forgot the beauty of true magic. That changed when you both walked through the gates of Qarth. We were powerful before, aye, but it paled in comparison. We are now able to carry out things the Warlocks could achieve before the Doom of Valyria and magic was almost wiped from existence in the world- "

"That does not answer my question, Pyat- "

He chuckled afterwards, clearly finding her irritation amusing.

"Why, it is simple really. We do not intend to lose this new wave of magic that has come back to the world, dragon of the sun."

Realisation dawned on her then as she looked at the chains on her wrists. They meant to keep them here. It was all a trap. A trap they had fallen into as easy as pie. Anger burning from somewhere deep inside her at being used like such and judging by Daenerys' face she was much the same as she was. More words were spoken but she was not listening to them and instead staring at the dragons as she saw her egg twitch again. Once could've been explained as one of the other accidentally knocking it. But twice? Understanding then what was happening as she looked to the torch she still held in her hand. It wouldn't burn through the metal chains, but it would burn clothing. With a single calculated throw, she flung it towards the table in the centre of the room and her aunts dragons added more fuel to the fire to ensure it would quickly engulf them all. Feeling the heat from it yet it did not hurt. Remembering the words Aegon had written when he confirmed Vēzos had hatched he was deep within the pyre itself but was not harmed. Yet it had been a one-time thing and couldn't even so much as get near a fire without feeling the effects of such a thing.

Screams were heard now as she heard what sounded like metal falling to the ground before she heard someone running towards her. Feeling hands work on the locks before feeling the chains fall to the ground too and opening her eyes to see Daenerys.

"I grabbed the locks from one of the Warlocks when you started the fire. We have to run, and now."

Rhaenys didn't argue with her as she ran towards the table to grab her egg as Dany worked on removing the chains from her dragons before they were running. Hearing bricks beginning to fall and stumbling a few times too from losing their footing. This building was coming down and fast. They had to get out before the bricks collapsed in on them too. Stairs appeared which they ran down as fast as they could right before that entire section caved in on them. Down another tunnel, and another, and another. Desperately looking for an exit. After what felt like days she saw a speck of blue up ahead to the outside, pointing it to Dany as they used what little energy they had left. Feeling hands wrap around her and yank her free from the building and away from it as it came down in a singular motion. Breathing hard as she began coughing from the amount of smoke she had inhaled from the fire and from dust from bricks falling. Once she caught her breath again she saw Mychelah offering her a flash of water which she drank from heavily before realising her egg was not in her hands. Frantically looking around to find out because if she dropped it when she was pulled free and it was under the debris it was all for nought.

But there wasn't an egg there. Instead there were shards of what had been the egg. Inside the shards was a tiny hatchling. Breath catching in her throat as she knelt down and leaned towards it to pick it up as everyone noticed what exactly had happened. A deep red- almost the colour of wine. With a golden underbelly, golden horns, purple swirls on the body and mostly purple wings flecked with that same deep red like it were lightning bolts. Making a small chirping noise before stretching its wings out and attempting to roar but it was more a screech than a roar.

"There is only one name for you little one. Your name shall be Morghul for you hatched during the fall of the Undying."