Burn me • Aemond Targaryen

Pretty Little Lies

Chapter Eighty-Nine~Pretty Little Lies

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The anger hit her on her way back from Harrenhall.

Perhaps it was because being with Aemond kept her mind intact, and now being away from him in body and soul there was no source to keep her level headed.

Vermithor could feel her anger, and it made him angry too. He cascaded hundreds of flames over the lands they flew across, forests and villages burned and there was no part of Rhaella that could find it within herself to care.

She was cruel and selfish, and she knew it. She wasn't a pretender, she knew who she was.

Then she came to a point in the sky where she had to make a choice.

East to Dragonstone or south to the Keep.

Both had the same outcome.

It just depended which battle she wished to fight first.

If she flew to Aegon, then there would be no forgiveness from Rhaynera.
Aegon was an easy hurdle to overcome.

But as Vermithor flew closer to Kingslanding, the sight before her was not one she could have imagined. Houses were burning, riots in the streets looting murdering.

Kingslanding was never a pleasant city to begin with, The keep was the only nice thing about it, and even that had much room for improvement.

But now, as the city descended into chaos and the people called for the black queen and her death, Rhaella laughed in spite of the war.

This is what they were fighting over.

A city of murderers and Rapists, thieves and criminals.
And even the lowest of the low didn't want them.

She flew closer to the castle, and the people below ran for cover. But the people who were barging the Keeps gates held too much hatred in their hearts to care that a dragon had descended upon them.

The guards were being torn to shreds at their own stations, some of the common folk had managed to climb the walls and the archers were being thrown to their deaths.

"Bring us Maegor!" The shouted. "Bring us the dragon bitch."

The mob was angry, no doubt due to the increased taxes and the shortage of food and clean water in the streets.

Money was short in the capital anyway, and now they were funding a war they never asked for. No wonder they were angry.

The common folk were waging war against the monarchy.

Oh the irony.

The people saw her Dragon, and as Vermithor had once belonged to the one of the greatest Kings to live in the eyes of the people, his bronze scales were as legendary as the name of his old Rider, as well as his current.

"Princess Rhaella!" The crowds cheered.

Rhaella rolled her eyes. She had no care for them, she didn't ask to be supported or feared.

Those were just perks of the name.

She knew what to do then and soon enough every breathing thing surrounding the keep was dead by the flame of her fury.

She landed in the courtyard, Vermithor breaking everything in his vicinity before he took off to his cave beneath the castle.

Guards rushed toward her, and she surrendered herself with a smirk on her face as she was dragged into their custody.