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AN-3: A big thanks to GladiusX (Check out his fic, the HP x GOT one, it's sick!) for being my beta as well as the editor for this chapter!
AN-4: A very big, very large, and very teary (happy ones) thankyou to Gerald, Arman Darklich, Known ART, Mrmeme101, and Russell Taylor for their heart-stopping, brain-frying support as the Celestial level Patrons.
AN-5: As always, a pleasure to update this fic, even though it is quite late this time around—ducks under the grenades and bullets. Now, I don't know why it is so difficult to understand for some people, but seriously, stop writing comments that I don't give a fuck about. If you don't have anything productive or constructive to say, don't waste your time and raise my hopes up when I see the notification.
So, these have been abundant over the last three chapters, despite me moderating some of the more obscene ones.
Incest: This is ASOIAF, the whole story started because of Incest. If you had a problem with it, you shouldn't have read the canon too, forget about fanfics. Daeron and Visenya are gonna get together, and nothing is going to change it.
Targaryen Worship: Not my fault you can't digest a change of pace from the regular all Targaryens are mad because they are Targaryens and incestuous. And if Dark Magic in HP can change a person, then there is nothing limiting me from doing the same.
So, now that the two most irritating reviews have been addressed, onto the chapter…oh, and review please! Last time it wasn't enough to sate my hunger.
"Wha-Son?" I said aloud, and the fact that it was Rhaegar Fucking Targaryen in front of me hit me like one of Alyssane's punches. Of course, once I realized that, it wasn't a hurdle to figure out who the Dornish woman was…"Elia Martell".
My face must have looked terribly funny at that moment, because my mother and Elia both burst into giggles together, and before I could even say anything, my mother started to pull me towards them. The next second, I was enveloped in a hug once again, and my eyes grew wide as I felt Elia and Rh-father wrap me in their arms. I returned the embrace instinctively, feeling the warmth and comfort from their actions in the same way my mother had provided me just moments ago.
"I am sorry," he said after they both pulled back from me., his face holding none of the previous cheer and warmth as his eyes lowered to the ground. "I…I don't have any words that will erase the blunders I have committed, nor will they wash the shame and the hardships that I have brought upon you and my daughters."
"Rhaegar…" Elia and my mother both began at the same time, but the man in question simply raised his hand and stopped them, his purple eyes staring into my own much darker ones.
"Daeron…," he trailed off for a moment, his gaze seeming to see something in a distance, a pained expression coming over his face before he continued, "I let my mother suffer for years since I didn't want to become a kinslayer and stain my hands with the blood of the father I had once loved. I met my end at Robert's hammer, and my wives paid the price for my shortcomings as a warrior. I wasn't alert enough of the treachery brewing between the lords, and the realm bled for it. And perhaps, the most foolish of all, I was so blinded by the Prophecy and my own infatuation with Lyanna that I.."
He paused after that, his eyes closing as his slightly trembling hand reached out to lay against my cheek. His touch lingered for a second only, his hand then dropping to my shoulder as he opened his eyes. "I have many regrets, my son…but loving Lyanna and marrying her was never one of them. Take heed of my words Daeron, for our time grows short. Be everything I wasn't. Become wise and decisive, strong and skilled…and last but not the least, be victorious and alive."
With that, he dissolved into thin air, his eyes never straying even once from mine as his words echoed in my mind. A soft palm touched my cheek, and I jumped at the sudden sensation, before my eyes focused back on those of my mother as she came to stand in front of me.
"Fate is quite cruel to me," she whispered, her grey eyes passing over my features before they stopped on my eyes. "I got a taste of bliss, only for it to turn into ash…" She trailed off in the end, and just when I was about to open my mouth, she shook her head and looked up with a small smile.
"I remember the moment when I held you for the first time along with your sister. Both of you were so small then," she said softly, her eyes lowering back to the ground as she fidgeted in her place. Elia looked at her with a sad smile, and she touched my mother's shoulder slightly, making her jump in her place before her eyes snapped to mine. She seemed to think of something to say, and after a silence of a few moments, she spoke. "I once asked you to get revenge for our family."
I nodded slowly, remembering the words as if they were spoken just a second ago instead of fifteen years. I looked at her silently, feeling the weight of the words again settle on my shoulders. Over the years, those words had hung over me like a shroud, each of my actions seemingly a big part of a puzzle, the end being somehow reaching the throne and sitting on it with Visenya at my side. Even now, after fifteen years of thinking on the subject practically every day…I didn't have a single clue about how to actually go about it.
Sure, our magical power and the dragons would easily ensure us a win in any open battle after a few more years, and as stupid as the civilian was, he wouldn't even care that the whole regime of the continent had shifted once again…but after that? Aegon and his sister-wives had conquered the six kingdoms, but as soon as the dragons died out, all of it went up in flames. Granted, the madness of my grandfather wasn't right by any means, but even a fool would acknowledge that had the dragons been alive a decade and a half ago, not a single sword would have been raised against the Targaryens.
"Daeron?" Elia asked, bringing me out of my thoughts. I refocused back on them, both women looking at me with worry before she shared a look with my mother and began speaking, "Those words, forget about them Daeron."
She seemed to expect me to refuse and fight against the words, as she paused for a moment, looking at me cautiously…but I didn't really feel anything except for stunned disbelief at the demand from the dornish woman—who if my mother's words and their current actions were any indications…would have been my mother too for all intents and purposes.
"I…I don't think I really understood that" I said, each word measured and slow, my mind still struggling to understand a single reason why she would want me to forget that—and since mother didn't say or do anything except look at me pleadingly with a hint of shame on her features…she too wanted the same.
"We don't want you to live your life just to get revenge, Daeron," she softly said, Elia nodding along with her. "I was foolish, and I said those things in anger and grief. I wasn't thinking straight, the news of Rhaegar, Elia and the children dying had nearly killed me—and when I held you in my arms and saw you looking at me…I said the first thing that came to my mind. How was I to know that you were going to remember these words and keep repeating them to yourself every day since then? Fuck!" she cursed at last, turning around and glaring at the wall as she ran her hand through her hair, and I could easily imagine the expression on her face.
"What she means to say is," Elia began, squeezing Lyanna's shoulder lightly, "Don't go looking for war Daeron. Live a long and happy life with Visenya and your dragons and run away to Essos. We don't want you to fight for a throne that no longer holds any meaning, and for people that are no longer alive. You have a long life ahead of us, with you sister and possibly that Mormont too…don't waste it away fo-"
"No"
My voice cut through her words, stunning her into silence as her eyes grew wide and my mother too whipped around, her eyes equally as disbelieving and shocked as the other woman.
"I-We can't go back to how things were Mother," the term slipping out my lips before I even notice it, but I ignored their gasps and continued on. "Last I heard, Vhyraxes, Gaelithox, and Caraxes had just roared and announced themselves to the world by setting the air above me on fire."
I took a deep breath, feeling the fire and ice within me roar and scream, and the world itself seemed to still as I uttered the words that were going to change everything.
"As of now, the war for our survival has begun."
Both Elia and my mother rushed forwards at that, hugging me more tightly than anyone before as they sobbed on my shoulders. I hugged them back, sighing heavily as I felt them clutch at me even tighter.
"Don-Don't you dare die before you make sure that you three are safe and I have at least four grandkids, do you hear me?" Elia said as she pulled back after a few moments, her eyes a little red as she glared up at me. Snorting at her words, I nodded at her and turn towards my birth mother—because there was no way in hell Elia wasn't my mother after this, even if it was post-mortem.
"Make that six if the way he and Dacy behave means anything," my mother said, rolling her eyes "Yet another Northern woman beguiled by a Targaryen Prince's charms."
"Last I checked, it was you who was enamored with our husband at first," Elia sniffed, turning her nose on my mother who blushed at the words. Turning back towards me, Elia once again laid her hands on my cheeks and rose on her toes, her lips meeting my forehead before she pulled back and smiled at me, her eyes glimmering with tears.
"Stay safe Daeron, and take care of them."
Before I could ask about who exactly they kept talking about alongside Visenya, Elia vanished from my view much as my father had. It was then that I realized my situation. Here I was, trapped in a dream and meeting my parents, when in the real world, Visenya was getting shipped to the Iron Islands. Suddenly, panic and anger started to permeate my brain, the backed-up emotions surging forwards to make my blood boil and my brain freeze on a single thought. I was going to rend the Ironborn from limb to limb, kill them in th-
"DAERON!" a voice shouted, and I felt the haze over my thoughts lift itself as she cupped my face and looked at me worriedly. "Listen my star. We don't have much time, and there are three things you must know."
Not giving me a single second to respond, she kissed my forehead hard and then leaned into my ear, her soft words seeming to echo all around us.
"Your father once thought that Dark Sister was with the Maester of the Black Castle, Aemon Targaryen is his name. Seek him out as soon as possible, because even if he doesn't possess the sword, his councel will be reward enough. Second, I love you with all of my heart, and I am proud of you beyond words. Tell my daughter I love her too, and will continue to cherish her even in death."
"And the third?" I asked, seeing the world fall away into whiteness around us. I knew that I was waking up now, and at any second, my mother would disappear from my gaze once again. I clutched at her back even tighter, knowing that as much as I wanted to spend more time with her…Visenya needed me.
"Third?" she pulled back from the hug, and a mischievous look crossed her face as she answered. "Tell Maege that I told you…Dragon cock is indeed as amazing as we discussed back in Harrenhal."
"I didn't need to hear that."
Giggling at my no doubt disgusted expression, my mother sent me a fond smile, her grey taking one final look at me as she disappeared. However, just before her face started to fade away, she whispered her final words to me…something which shook to my core more than anything.
"Rhaegar said daughters, and Elia said them because…your elder sister Rhaenys is alive, Daeron. Find her."
I woke up with a gasp, my eyes snapping open to the sight of a large, spiked tail waving in the air above me. Around me, I could hear the shuffling of several pairs of feet as a low growl echoed around me. I jumped to my feet, and it took me only a second to realize that I was naked and covered in ashes.
"JON!" Everyone screamed, and ignoring my nakedness as well as the three gigantic dragons for the moment, I turned towards the Mormonts. Dacey and Maege stood at the front, with their swords out, and pointed towards Vhyraxes—the black and purple dragon just a few paces away from them and curled around me. Out of the corner of my eyes, I could see Caraxes and Gaelithox walking towards me, their steps seeming to shake the earth.
"Jon, what the fuck is this?" Maege asked, her hair frazzled and matted with blood as she pointed her weapon at the dragons, making all three of them hiss and slap their tails against the ground. The people jumped at the action, and cries of terror swept up around us as the soldiers and villagers alike brandished their weapons.
"Vhyraxes…"
A single word. That is all it took to make the massive partner of my mind stop and the next second, his brother and sister did the same, all three of them instead of turning around to lightly push against me. Even as a part of me marveled at the growth they had experienced in the last few years, I turned towards Maege and swallowed the discomfort I felt…before I somehow spoke the words mother had told me to tell the Lady Mormont.
"Mother says that the Dragon cock is indeed as wonderful as you discussed in Harrenhal."
Confusion spread through the people around me, and everyone stared at me as if I had grown a second head. Maege too, seemed like she was about to follow everyone's lead, but then her jaw dropped open, and the sword in her hand fell down to the ground. The girls looked at the mother in bewilderment, their alarm growing even more a horrified look came over her face and she fell to her knees. Ignoring the panicked shouts, I instead turned towards the dragons around and stroked each of their heads, finally taking in the changes they underwent over the years we had been without contact.
Vhyraxes was the largest of the three, his scales as black as the starless sky in the dim light around us, making his gleaming spikes look even more menacing as they ran down his back. Caraxes and Gaelithox were also about the same size, and even as three sat on their bellies, their backs were still three to four paces above my head. Rubbing their neck and earning small rumbles of pleasure from them, I felt a small smile slip over my lips at the familiar action. Scratching the point just below Caraxes' jaw, I tensed with anger immediately as I turned to the wes-
"Yo-You are her son," Maege whispered, her stunned and almost inaudible whisper still managing to carry over to everyone and silence them. "You and Lyanna are her children…with him?!"
"We are," I nodded, causing her to fully fall on her behind as she numbly stared at me. "Now if you don't mind, someone bring me a bucket of water and some clothes."
"The fuck, Jon?!" Ather shouted with fear and anger, pointing his blood-covered spear at me as he took a single step forwards. "We have been standing out here for six days ever since these beasts dropped from the sky and spat fire on you! No ravens have been allowed to fly away from the Island, and neither have these things allowed us to move away. We deserve some answers you cunt!"
The next second, the clearing was filled with the reverberating sounds of three dragons growling, and Ather whitened in fear. The fact that there were dragons seemed to once again make itself known to him, and with a hasty, terrified glance at me, he backed off. Behind him, every other person took several steps back, fear and terror clear as day in their behavior as I heard several whimpers and prayers.
"Ather, shut up," I told him, walking towards one of the dead bodies strewn over the area, realizing that no one was going to give me anything with three dragons suddenly dropping amidst them. "I will answer your questions, only after I get my sister from those living pieces of dead meat that call themselves Ironborn."
Ignoring the still shocked crowd, I knelt beside one of the Ironborn's dead bodies.
Forming a thin layer of ice over my skin, I then melted it off within an eyeblink, leaving me clean and bare for the world to see. Not that I minded my nudity, my mind being occupied by far more important things, like stealing the clothes and the chestplate of a dead body to clothe myself, and then BURNKILLRAVAGE the Iron Islands for daring to lay a hand on Visenya.
Coming out of the shadows a minute later, I made a show of wiping my face and arms as if I was clearing the soot. Sensing my intention, Caraxes and Gaelithox both took flight immediately, their huge wings sending leaves and dirt flying in everyone's eyes. As everyone cried in shock and irritation, I passed by the Mormont Matriarch and her daughters, the aged woman staring in the darkness of the forest, while her daughters worriedly called out to her.
Ignoring the women, I ran towards my dragon and climbed on Vhyraxes, his spikes functioning as handholds for me to pull myself over his back. Settling in between his shoulders, I turned towards the West and glared at the direction in which Visenya was. I felt his muscles tense beneath me, and a grimace came over my face as I felt his scales prod and rub against my skin through the pants. With a roar that shattered my eardrums, Vhyraxes took to the skies, the other two following after him as he shot forwards like an arrow loose from a longbow.
Behind me, I could hear the cries of shock and anger as I flew away, the piercing whistle of the rushing wind soon silenced those. His large, leathery wings pumping furiously, the black dragon traversed the distance between us and the sea quickly, the dark forest beneath me rushing by faster than I could have imagined. Forcing down the pain and the prickliness of his scales against my thighs, I finally let the anger coursing through me come to my mind's forefront. Images flashed through my mind, Ironborn killing the men and women I had spent the last years with, their slimy grins, and the disgusting ritual of reaving. And above all, the screaming face of Visenya as she was carried by the man into the forest.
Rage like never before coursed through me, and with the mental link I shared with the dragons, I could feel their wrath too. Like a vicious cycle, we fed on each other's anger and fanned the flames within each other, Caraxes in particular was snarling and growling constantly, blue embers dripping from her maw as she flapped her wings faster and faster with each passing moment.
For how long we flew, I don't know. The forest, the seas and the trees passed beneath us in a blur, our eyes firmly set upon the direction of the Iron Islands.
Finally, after what had seemed like hours of sitting my ass upon a rough, sharp seat…I could see the lights of the Iron Islands in the distance—and as much as I wanted to torch the whole archipelago and its inhabitants to the ground after getting Visenya…I knew that was a risk I wasn't ready to handle. Yet.
'Caraxes, take us to Visenya'
Focusing on that thought with all my might, I was rewarded with a feeling of anticipation and eagerness from the blue dragoness, who snarled once silently and somehow increased her velocity even more. We were quickly approaching Harlaw, and despite how much time I had spent away in the dream world, there was no way the Ironborn managed to travel further into the Iron Islands. Caraxes slowed down once we neared the giant island below us, further confirming my thoughts as we slowly started to dip down.
Thankfully, it was a cloudy night, and even though we could have been spotted due to the dim moonlight reflecting off the dragon's scales…the squids below us were too drunk on their success. Even from the height at which I was, I could see several were busy in merriment, the Ironborn raping and fucking the thralls they had collected over the years as the drink flowed.
"Caraxes," I called out, the dragoness' turning her head towards mine, her slit blue eyes gleaming in the darkness. "Burn any raven that tries to leave the towers, and Gaelithox, fly and torch the boats on the other side. Vhyraxes, drop me near the shore, and burn the harbor. After that, kill any Ironborn you come across."
As the two dragons flew away from us, I leaned down and rubbed the neck of my dragon, feeling his anticipation, bloodlust, and excitement flow through me. As he started to swoop down towards the unsuspecting men and women below us, we opened our mouths at the same time, and a roar blasted through the calm night and he stopped in his place, flipping so that I was no longer upon him. Closing my eyes, I fell towards the sea, feeling a rush of madness travel through me even as cries of shock and fear started to come up from the people below us.
A forty-foot drop and three seconds later, I came out of the water, creating ice below me to float me up to the surface. Beside me, a stream of black fire hit the longboats, the flames rapidly spreading over the wood and cloth as Vhyraxes flew in a straight line. The dark fire hungrily swallowed everything, the smell of smoke and ashes filling the air around me as I finally stepped on Harlaw Island. Busy as the Iron Islanders were with the sudden fire raging on their boats, the drunk men didn't take notice of me until I had killed the first man.
A blade of ice erupted from his back, my thrust very nearly taking the man behind him as well. Pushing the gasping man off my sword, I grinned at the Ironborn in front of me, their minds still reeling from the sudden attack and destruction as they forgot about the women and slaves at their feet. As Vhyraxes swooped down to light another row of boats on fire, someone screamed "DRAGON!", and then as one, the reavers drew their weapons and charged at me, a scream of rage and anger leaving their throats as they ran, drunk and stupid.
Forming a blade in my left hand, I stared at the incoming men, well aware that even with the assistance of the dragons, I was possibly going to fight hundreds by myself today. But that was fine. They were hundreds of normal humans, half of them drunk off their asses. I, on the other hand, possessed the magic of not one but two of the most prestigious dynasties known to mankind.
Drunk on the battlelust and anger, I jumped forwards and stomped my foot on the ground, a wave of fire erupting in front of me and lighting every flammable thing around on fire…which included the alcohol on their faces and clothes. As screams of pain rose from the burning men, the reavers behind them paused for a moment, their eyes widening and the curses stopping as they beheld the slowly dying Ironborn.
With the dragons having healed me just a short while ago, I had more magic coursing through my body than ever before, their flames no doubt magical in some way.
This wasn't going to be a fight or a one-man war.
This was going to be a slaughter.
Now, there are quite a few unexplained, probably stupid stuff in this chapter (Namely the timeline of the events and the durations and all that), but be patient. It will be explained over the next chapters (Mostly in 14 ig)