Hello here is the next chapter for this fanfiction! I do hope all of you are having a great week! I am doing a lot now! Also, next chapter is pretty much going to close the wars for a while. It's time to truly get some scheming and politics going, as well, getting back to some characters left aside, like the Starks, Daenerys and all of them!

I hope all of you like what I have prepared for you!

Now, the next schedule is going to be as follows!

-The White Wolf of Winterfell (One chapter)

-Harriet Potter: The Demon Empress (One Chapter)

-Overlord: The Demon-Who-Lived? (I want to finish this smut fanfiction since it will allow me to focus on other projects! The same with the White Wolf of Winterfell; I'll finish that work in, perhaps, around ten chapters or less!)

That would be all, see you all soon.

See you all soon, and please follow me on my Tumblr page, where you can see more updates, works, and news, as well as where you can support me directly!

( paulythide . tumblr . com )

Chapter 38

Aegon Targaryen, the rightful heir and ruler of the Seven Kingdoms, or so he believed he was, stood with pride as he gazed upon his army. Though his triumph at the Bronzegate may seem inconsequential in the grand scheme, it marked the initial stride towards fulfilling his destiny. Aegon recognised that he had already demonstrated his capabilities as a leader, yet he remained vigilant against succumbing to arrogance and ego. He understood that such sentiments would ultimately prove his downfall.

Aegon made sure not to let such a feeling cloud his judgment. Moreover, it seemed that his mentor, who was perhaps the closest thing he had to a father figure, looked at him with a sense of pride. Jon Connington wore a pleased expression on his face as if their first victory in the war had provided them with the much-needed moment to make a statement not only for their soldiers but for themselves.

But it was not over. Not at all.

"You have done an exceptional job thus far, Aegon," Jon Connington commended, gazing alongside him from the ramparts of Bronzegate castle, overlooking their formidable army.

"This victory is not mine alone," Aegon gazed upon his army, all proudly carrying the banner that Westeros had long forgotten. He sighed, overwhelmed by the realisation that this moment transcended his personal quest to reclaim the crown. Aegon turned his gaze towards Jon and spoke. "It is a victory for my mother, my sister, and my father as well."

Jon didn't say much; instead, he closed his eyes, taking a moment to remember Rhaegar's face. However, each time he thought of the man he loved, a wave of grief washed over him. But Jon pushed those thoughts aside for now. No, he would allow himself to dwell on them once he had secured the Iron Throne for his son. Only then, and at that moment alone, would he allow himself to think of Rhaegar's face once again.

"You make them proud," Jon muttered.

"Did they even give their bodies a proper burial?" Aegon inquired, his face a flawless mask concealing his true emotions. However, Jon could discern the truth hidden within his gaze.

"I can't say," Jon stated, his voice dripping with venom and utter disgust. "Robert wasn't the kind of person to give his enemies a proper burial." Despite this, Aegon's expression was filled with nothing but anger and determination.

"I shall behave better than him," Aegon said, realising that he may, too, have to make certain decisions. Yet, he would not act nor do what Robert did to his family.

"Your grace—"

"Jon, I am better than him. Much better. I am not Robert Baratheon. I refuse to dirty my hands with the blood of innocent babies. I am Aegon Targaryen, and my reign will be unlike any other," Aegon declared, evoking a sense of pride in Jon. However, deep down, Jon understood that the people of Westeros would resist being ruled by a dragon if they had the means to oppose it. Therefore, Jon made a secret vow to himself. He would not hesitate to stain his own hands with the blood of the innocent if it meant protecting the realm.

Too young still, too naïve. But I shall do what you can't. No matter the cost.

Jon secretly vowed before simply nodding at Aegon, hiding his emotions and true intentions. "Of course… your grace."

Unaware of Jon's true intention, Aegon nodded contentedly. However, before long, a soldier came sprinting towards them.

"Your grace!" One of the soldiers from the Golden Company yelled. "Our scouts report a massive army crossing the Wendwater River!"

"Finally," Aegon whispered, his gaze fixed upon the sky. As he observed the motionless storm clouds, he came to the realisation that placing their triumph solely in the hands of the weather was not a reliable strategy. It was uncertain whether the storm would aid them or if the ominous clouds would disperse. Regardless of the outcome, they could not afford to stay idle. "We must relocate the army... and the scorpions as well!"

"Your grace?" The soldier mumbled, stunned. However, Jon knew exactly what Aegon meant with this.

"We can't stay here; otherwise, the queen's dragon will incinerate us within these walls. We need to take action and confront their army before we leave Kingswood. Let's make use of these ominous clouds to our benefit," Jon said, with Aegon nodding in agreement. Together, they walked towards the fortress gates.

"They won't be expecting us to advance towards them, and neither will they anticipate the movement of our elephants and scorpions. This is our moment...! Everyone, start moving; I demand a full day of marching before we reach Kingswood!" Aegon's voice echoed loudly, ensuring that his entire army could hear his command.

The Golden Company promptly responded to the sound of the young king. The elephants let out their characteristic trumpets while the engineers diligently ensured that the scorpions were kept dry and ready. They were all aware that time was currently in their favour and knew that wasting it would result in a certain demise. None of them wished to endure such a fate.

However, Aegon had no intention of leading his army towards such a grim destiny. No, as he rode his horse, he felt a beckoning from destiny. Every time he slept, his mind was flooded with dreams. Dreams of his triumphant defeat of the false dragon. Aegon's name had already become renowned throughout Westeros, and he would bring honour to his ancestors by conquering these lands for the Targaryen family once again.

"We march now!" Aegon yelled as he proudly led his army to face destiny.

Jon glanced at him as he rode next to him. Soon, he felt the raindrops falling on his armour. "It's raining now. We will have problems reaching them now."

Aegon gazed at the ominous dark clouds above, witnessing the relentless rain cascading upon them. Strangely, a smile graced his lips as a deafening thunderclap reverberated through the atmosphere. It was in this storm that Aegon discerned an immense opportunity unfolding before them.

"This is the perfect storm for us, Jon. The gods do listen and have blessed us with this."

Galadriel was incredibly annoyed by the fact that the storm was actually larger than she had expected. People often warned not to underestimate the power of nature, and Galadriel would certainly agree, wishing that nature would simply cease to exist.

"My underwear is all wet!" Galadriel exclaimed loudly while riding on Ancalagon's back. The storm was battering her and her three dragons. However, since these were not ordinary dragons but rather potent magical extensions of Galadriel's own power, the storm seemed as harmless as a gentle morning breeze to them. Nevertheless, the dragons found their "mother's" irritated murmurs about the storm incredibly vexing to endure.

"I can feel cold water entering my—!" Galadriel growled, feeling annoyed. She sensed an amused look from Scatha on her side. The large silver-scale dragon appeared to find Galadriel's venting amusing, but as soon as she noticed Galadriel's glare, Scatha quickly averted her gaze. "You think this is funny, huh?"

If Scatha could speak, he would immediately try to find an excuse. But of course, Galadriel could see right through her child's behaviour. "Keep it up, and I'll have you take a bath… and I'll clean all of your spots. All of them!"

The sight sent shivers down not only Scatha's spine but also Ancalagon and Smaug. Galadriel let out a loud huff, noticing how the storm in front of them was escalating, becoming even more intense and unpredictable. "The Stormlands, indeed," Galadriel murmured, pondering who would be foolish enough to establish a kingdom in such a treacherous location.

"Truly, father, our ancestors were mad," Galadriel mumbled as rain hit her face and so thunders, but none of them harmed her at all. Yet, Galadriel was able to see down below the sea, and soon, a large number of ships were near the shore. It took not long before she realised to whom those ships belonged. The large flag was easy to stop.

"Aegon's ships, all concealed in this location. We must be close to Massey's hook," Galadriel remarked, observing the multitude of individuals aboard the vessels and the scorpions adorning them. Perhaps around five thousand men are managing those ships. Maybe a bit more. "How endearing. They genuinely think they could harm me. I wonder how many scorpions they have left with the army."

Galadriel couldn't help but consider the possibility that they were truly ready to confront dragons. It was evident that the Targaryen dragons would have been vulnerable amidst the abundance of those colossal scorpions. The steel spears were impressively long and sharp. A well-aimed strike could easily pierce a dragon scale, making those human weapons a genuine menace to the dragons in this realm. Galadriel's dragons, however, were far from ordinary.

"Alright, Ancalagon, stay put here," Galadriel whispered to the large dark dragon, who obediently followed his mother's command. Before long, all three dragons took flight around the ships. It was ironic how the massive beast remained hidden by the storm and dark clouds. However, that would soon be different.

"Quite the sight, to see so many of them in one place, aren't they, my children?" Galadriel said, her voice filled with awe, as she gracefully rose from Ancalagon's back. Without a single blink, she unfurled her wings and effortlessly hovered beside them. "Mmm, hundreds of ships... completely oblivious to our presence."

The dragons started to feel excited, and Galadriel smiled as thunderstorms began to conceal their growls.

"Now, we must not let a single one of them escape. Not a single one," Galadriel whispered, her eyes gleaming with a touch of sadistic delight. Occasionally, Galadriel felt the need to release some of her more sadistic inclinations. If left unchecked, they would accumulate and leave her feeling restless. Being a demon empress was challenging, and at times, the absence of humanity felt numbing. Her empathy towards humans mostly stemmed from viewing those close to her as beloved pets and toys solely under her control.

Naturally, Galadriel possessed the ability to think independently and was not simply a remorseless creature consumed with inflicting suffering upon innocent individuals. While she does not indulge in such tendencies, she cannot deny that she may have displayed a certain sadistic inclination when dealing with those who had wronged her.

Unfortunately, for those unfortunate souls beneath her, braving the tempest on their vessels just off the coast of the beach, they were her adversaries. Galadriel, when confronted with foes who coveted her crown, her throne, and her rightful dominion, showed no mercy.

"Kill them all, my children, leave none alive."

Galadriel beamed as the three mighty dragons bellowed in delight. The thunderclouds concealed their presence once more, but it was only a temporary respite. Casting her gaze around, Galadriel found herself unexpectedly content amidst the tempest. She felt a strange sense of ease settling over her as if this tumultuous setting was precisely where she belonged. "And here I thought about getting rid of the storm. Maybe I should let it do its job," Galadriel mused, thinking about Aegon Targaryen, the supposed son of Rhaegar Targaryen.

The fact that this boy truly believed he was the true heir was utterly hilarious, in her opinion. Perhaps a reality check would bring some sense to this poor bastard boy—a cruel reality check.

"I sincerely hope you aren't harbouring grand aspirations, you little boy. It is not within your destiny to ascend to the throne. It never was. You were never destined to be a king, merely an insignificant obstacle in my path," Galadriel proclaimed amidst the intensifying onslaught of wind, thunder, and rain. She could hardly wait to see the look of despair in Aegon's eyes. "Rest assured, I shall take pleasure in gradually shattering your dreams right before your eyes. I want to witness your despair firsthand."

Beneath them, the sailors were unable to see or hear clearly what loomed overhead. The thick, dark clouds and the incessant thunderclaps consumed their senses, while the resounding crashes of ships being battered by the fierce winds captured their focus. None among them could perceive the true peril concealed within the depths of those ominous clouds.

One of the sailors, frustrated by the incessant rain, made his way towards the front of the ship. Looking at how the storm seemed to punish them for being there. But what made matters worse was the relentless wind that showed no mercy towards them. Some ships had already suffered damage from its force. This sailor had never before encountered such a fierce storm in his life.

"What a complete disaster," he muttered under his breath as he prepared to tackle his task. However, just as he was about to adjust the ropes and assist in securing the ship, a mighty gust of wind suddenly swept across the entire coastline. It felt as though a forceful breeze was deliberately directed at them. At first, the sailor thought it was just the wind increasing speed. But soon, his eyes saw something in the dark clouds above them.

A massive silhouette resembling a towering mountain materialised right before his eyes. The bewildered sailor couldn't quite comprehend the sight before him. It felt like a surreal dream or a mind-altering hallucination.

"What is this?" he could only mutter before a deafening roar caused his ears to bleed. The sound was so loud that it not only damaged his eardrums but also everything in its vicinity. Before long, a dragon emerged from the shadows—a dragon with black scales, black wings, and mesmerisingly bright red eyes.

Ancalagon, the dragon of the queen and self-proclaimed oldest among his siblings, parted his jaws. It was as if the cauldron of a forge had been unsealed, for lava began to drip from his mouth. Similar to a volcanic crater, fire was not his only weapon of choice. Before long, Ancalagon unleashed his mighty roar, a sound that could not be mistaken for mere thunder. And with it, fire and lava, and death.

The ships, despite being soaked in water, were powerless against Ancalagon's might. It wasn't just fire and lava but also the formidable magic that emanated from Galadriel herself. However, Ancalagon wasn't the only one wreaking havoc on the ships. Scatha and Smaug soon joined in, each unleashing a different type of fire breath. Scatha seemed to breathe acid, while Smaug's fire had a peculiar yellowish hue. The sailors, in their despair, couldn't even rely on the scorpions. Those who attempted soon discovered that their long spears were ineffective against the dragons' sturdy scales. It was as if the dragons were shielded by an impenetrable force. The spears simply rebounded as if striking an invisible bubble.

Galadriel watched with glee at the destruction unfolding below. Her children were enjoying themselves greatly. It was a good thing. They could get restless if they do nothing but sleep and eat all day. "Besides, they can get fat too," Galadriel added with joy as the storm raged around them. Now, the storm was bothering her a great deal.

"Ugh, this is so annoying. Alright, enough of this... I don't want this storm anymore," Galadriel exclaimed, raising her hand towards the sky. Within moments, a small sphere materialised in her palm. She focused her energy and cast a powerful spell, "[Greater Arcane Dispel: Dawn of Light]." As if a massive bomb had detonated overhead, the storm instantly dissipated, leaving Galadriel standing in the calm eye of the storm. It was evident that her spell had created a significant rupture in the sky.

"Ah... that's much better," Galadriel smiled, her gaze shifting downward to observe the chaos her children were causing. "Hmm, Smaug is devouring them... I wonder, does human flesh taste delicious?" Galadriel pondered, her voice filled with intrigue.

"I'll ask Shalltear about this," Galadriel then gazed now at the coast, and while she could not see it clearly. She knew that kilometres away, Aegon's army was facing her own, unaware of his upcoming defeat. "Let's end this now. I don't want to waste time with him… but I want to destroy him slowly. Yes… slowly."

The rumbling of a vast army marching towards battle resonated from deep within the Kingswood. The royal forces were making their way out of the forest, or at least attempting to, but the treacherous combination of mud and fallen trees posed a near-insurmountable obstacle for such a formidable contingent.

"Reports from our scouts?" Ser Barristan called as he was in charge of the force.

"None, my lord!" One of the soldiers replied quickly.

"Go and look for them! I'm certain Ser Mya and Ser Gendry wouldn't have gotten lost in a place like this," confidently stated Ser Barristan. He was fully aware that they were not the type to lose their way in such a location. Those two knew the Kingswood like the palm of their hand, and he also doubted they would have lost against mere sellswords.

"Maybe they go stuck in the mud?" Jaime said out loud as he and the rest of the queensguard rode behind him. "We got stuck multiple times."

"Perhaps," Ser Barristan replied, his unease evident, "but we are also unaware of the whereabouts of the Blackfyre's army." The incessant rain was proving to be a greater hindrance than they had initially anticipated.

"I hate this place… it's like it hasn't changed at all," Loras hissed, recalling bitterly how the rain also slowed Renly's army.

"This rain is an army killer," Brienne added softly, recalling the same memories as Loras. "It's our queen, alright?" She asked, still not liking the fact that they could not be with her. But then again, none of them could ride dragons.

"She has three dragons with her… I think she is safe," Jaime added, although he had his own worries. The storm could still be deadly, even for someone like his niece.

Before long, a band of riders emerged and reached the forefront of the army, their bodies caked in mud and stained with blood. It didn't take much time for Ser Barristan and the other members of the queensguard to recognise them. They were none other than Mya and Gendry.

"Ser Barristan!" Mya called out as she approached the commander of the Queensguard. "Their army is in close proximity to us, less than an hour to the East."

"They have fucking elephants," Gendry added with a scoff.

Ser Barristan's expression turned cold as he surveyed the army before him. "Our current situation is far from ideal," he remarked. "Ser Loras, I entrust you with the right flank. Ser Brienne and Ser Clegane, take the left and ensure that the column is properly dealt with. Ser Jaime, I want you at the forefront, leading the vanguard and preparing the spearmen for battle. Ser Mya and Ser Gendry, I rely on you to have the riders ready. It is crucial that we prevent the elephants from breaking our lines. Keep them under control at all costs."

All nodded at him and quickly moved to their position. Although, Clegane was a bit annoyed to be called "Ser" as he was knighted, pretty much against his will. But then again, the queen appeared to have done it just because it was amusing to see him angry.

"We must ensure that we allocate time for our queen," Ser Barristan whispered, fully aware of the need to persevere until their queen's arrival. However, it must be noted that Ser Barristan's concerns were somewhat exaggerated, as the Golden Company, as well as Aegon "Targaryen," currently lacked the means to escape anymore.

Their fleet was no more, and Galadriel wanted to see the battle, as she loved watching the army clashing on the battlefield.

The impending conflict known as the Battle of Mud and Rain, or more commonly referred to as the Last Blackfyre Rebellion, was on the verge of commencing.