The Prince and His Flower

N I N E T Y - T W O

Rhaenyra walked through Dragonstone, her head held high as her footsteps echoed across the empty halls. I am the dragon, she thought to herself. I am the dragon, and I will burn those who have wronged me. Her grief washed over her in waves like a storm at sea, threatening to drown her before pushing her back to the surface just for a small breath of air before tossing her back under. When her grief gave her a few moments of respite, anger took its place. An anger that burned from within, consumed her with hatred and anguish, threatening to tear her apart where she stood. 

Her lords criticized her for sending Baela and Rhaena to the Vale, she knew they thought she was weak, that she was just some spoiled princess hiding behind her husband. But they were wrong, and she was going to prove it to them. 

"Mother," Jace called out, joining her side and taking her hand. "Everyone is waiting for you."

Rhaenyra shut her eyes, imagining for a brief second it was her sweet Luke holding her hand before opening her eyes once more and smiling softly at her firstborn. 

"Let us go then, my sweet boy." She squeezed his hand, her heart tightening at the nickname she used for Luke. It felt like a raw hole had been punched in her chest, leaving her hollow. A part of her was glad she never had another daughter, for no daughter could ever compare to Aemma. 

She pushed away her grief-ridden thoughts as she strode into the War Room, her eyes scanning over her bannermen and members of the small council. Corlys looked tired, his eyes bloodshot and puffy from a night of weeping despite all that he did to hide it. The absence of his beloved Rhaenys weighed heavily on him, and it showed. 

"Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen--" Ser Darklyn quickly stopped once Rhaenyra waved him off.

"No need." She twisted the ring on her finger as she looked over the Painted Table. "Where do we stand now?" 

"With Princess Rhaenys's capture, we're left in an awkward position." Daemon took his place at her side, ignoring the glare Corlys sent his way. "The Riverlands have been divided between you and Aegon, the Reach has all but carved his face into the crops of Highgarden, and the Stormlands are following whatever Lord Borros does, which is serving Aegon."

Rhaenyra glanced over at Corlys, who kept his eyes glued to the Painted Table as he mulled over his thoughts. 

"Daeron is in the Reach, Aegon, and Aemond are still in Kings Landing. Recovering, I presume." Daemon shrugged. "They'll burn soon enough."

"Has Lord Stark responded to any of our ravens?" She asked. 

"None." Maester Gerardys shook his head. 

"Our dragons still outnumber them, we only need to find their riders." Daemon pointed to Dragonstone on the map. "There's The Cannibal, Grey Ghost, and Sheepstealer. I can't imagine it will be hard to find Targaryen bastards running around somewhere."

"We should send ravens to every city and village around then, calling for the dragonseed." Maester Gerardys nodded to himself. "Surely at least one will turn up. And what of Seasmoke? Surely someone will--"

"Seasmoke isn't of your concern." Rhaenyra's tone was much harsher than intended, but she would make her apologies later. "Send the ravens. I want every last one of them kneeling in front of me by the month's end."

"Yes, Your Grace." He bowed his head before shuffling away to prepare the letters.

"You've become fierce, my love." Daemon reached out to stroke the back of her hand but she pulled away as if his touch burned her. 

"We need to fortify our men in Harrenhal. I expect you to depart by first light." She turned to look at him, her face twisted into a pained grimace. "I don't need anything else from you, husband. You may go."

Daemon's gaze flickered from Rhaenyra to the lords surrounding him, their eyes boring into his very soul. She had grown distant from him in the past weeks, going so far as to round up all of their children in her chambers and order the guards to turn away any disturbers, him included. The fact that she would send him away just as Viserys had hurt him deeply, and he was humiliated. 

"Yes, Your Grace." He spat before stalking out of the room. 

Even Syrax had begun distancing herself from Caraxes, the once inseparable pair now residing on opposite ends of the island. Caraxes would sing until the late hours of the night, finally settling into a sad silence when Syrax would refuse to respond. Daemon felt that he and his dragon were in similar situations, which annoyed him to no end. 

Once the meeting with her bannermen finally ended, Rhaenyra retreated to her chambers, surrounded by her children. Aegon clung to her neck while Viserys sat happily in Jace's lap. Joffrey sat on the floor, playing with Aemma's wooden dragon that she had once cherished. 

"I'm going to send another raven to Dorne, perhaps Prince Doran will reconsider his neutral stance." She said as she bounced Aegon in her lap.

"Yes, and perhaps the Reach can be swindled once the shadows of our dragons pass overhead." Jace bit his lip, the guilt of hiding Aemma's survival from their mother gnawing at him. "Everything will turn out fine, Mother."

"I can't help but think things would have turned out differently if I had only accepted Aegon's offer." Rhaenyra frowned, the lump in her throat preventing her from speaking any further.

"Everything will turn out fine. I promise." Jace reached out and took his mother's hand. 

"Aemma," Aegon babbled. "Aemma, Aemma, Aemma."

For the first time in what felt like forever, Rhaenyra broke out into a smile.

"That's right, my love. Aemma." She kissed his cheek, wiping away the tears that threatened to spill from her eyes.

A/N Sorry this is so short but I'll try to update on a weekly basis from now on with longer chapters.