To Take What Is Rightfully Ours

Chapter 1. Taking Back The Dragon

Note: Dialogue in Italics = High Valyrian

***

There is an old saying. It's more of a legend than an actual statement.

Fire cannot kill a dragon.

Bullshit if you ask Diane. But that was a curse of being a bastard, no one was ever asking for your opinion. Or almost no one. Her father sometimes did, but she never knew whether he was actually interested or just indulged her because she was valuable enough to keep at his side.

Having a Waters last name - the name that bastards from King's Landing and Dragonstone usually carried - never really bothered Diane, at least not as much as other people expected her to be bothered by it. It gave her some weird sort of anonymity. Everyone found out she was a bastard and never looked past it, never noticed her white hair or that fierce fire in her eyes only one family in Westeros has. But even if someone noticed that was also okay. Royal men had dozens of bastards all the time, it wouldn't be much of a surprise for Daemon Targaryen to have one. What Diane thought was more surprising was her being the only one. At least to her knowledge and her father's. And there was no reason for Daemon to lie about it.

Diane took his side. When push came to shove, and the Blacks and the Greens started a full-blown civil war, she took her father's side. She didn't have to , she could have just sat it out, but there was that inherited idea inside of her, the urge to protect her family. Even if her family never recognized her as a part of them.

That was some sort of irony that, out of all the children and allies Daemon had, Diane ended up the one to hold his hand when he died. Gravely injured in the battle with Aemond, with two dragons tearing at each other flesh somewhere in the background, Daemon bled out in the company of his bastard daughter.

'Go help... help Rhaenyra,' was his last words. 'Protect our family.'

It was probably the only time Daemon recognized the family as theirs , not just his. So that was what Diane did. She gave her father a burial he deserved, leaving Aemond's body to rot, mounted Silverwing, and went to fulfill her father's last wish. That was what she did, and that was how she died.

Fire might not kill a dragon, but other dragon's jaws very well can.

Did Diane fail in the mission to protect her family? She wasn't sure. She just knew that Rhaenyra probably followed her to the other side shortly after. She hoped the kids were smart enough to adapt and not follow them as well.

***

She woke up disoriented, confused and felt too hot to be dead. Of course, she might have ended up in Hell, but she was sure they didn't make the beds quite as comfortable for people who were forever doomed.

'Diane? Is everything alright?' the female voice asked, and she turned to see a young girl - not older than eighteen - on the other side of the bed. She had dark skin, and her black hair was braided in beautiful braids. She was also naked, covered only by a thin blanket that was almost see-through.

Feigh.

People say you always remember your first love. Diane just wasn't sure you were supposed to remember them after all those years quite that clearly.

'Um- I'm- bad dream,' Diane decided to say. It was a safe answer. At least until she figured out what was going on.

Feigh frowned, 'What about?'

'Dragons. Mostly,' Diane mumbled, getting out of bed. She was naked as well which didn't surprise her. But the absence of most of her scars did. What the-