Aemond One Eyed Targaryen and Elaena Velaryon had always had a soft spot for one another from growing up in the halls of Kings Landing, to soaring through the skies of Westeros.
It isn't until Elaena shares a late night flight on dragonback with th...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
𝓡𝓱𝓪𝓮𝓷𝔂𝓻𝓪 𝓣𝓪𝓻𝓰𝓪𝓻𝔂𝓮𝓷 The Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen wasn't as strong as she once was. With years of grief and burden weighing heavy on my shoulders, the fall of the dragon pits would surely lead to my ultimate demise.
Over the past twenty-four hours, I'd done the best I could to keep my grandchildren occupied in the absence of my daughter and brother but I hadn't at all expected a riot of such proportions would ensue.
I'd felt helpless in the face of this unfamiliar foe.
Daemon would know just what to do.
I thought, missing my King Consort, especially at this very moment.
The guidance of my advisors and knights had left me a paranoid mess of emotions, but she knew one thing for certain, Daemon would have mounted his dragon, rid the Realm of these traitors, and been done with it.
Perhaps Aemond would do something of the same if he were here.
But neither was; even worse, my eldest had gone with him.
Elaena had become quite the listening ear these past years, paying close attention in council meetings and only offering her opinion when sound and well-rounded, practically my acting hand in Lord Corly's absence from court.
It was well known within the keep that if the Queen rounded a corner her heir and Prince were never far behind, keeping a close-knit group since the early years of my reign.
"Ser Lorent," I clear my throat, feigning strength even in front of my most trusted Commander of the Queensguard.
"My Queen?"
"Send ravens to Driftmark and Winterfell... and quickly."
Ser Lorent means to move toward the door, the sound of his armor halting, "What do we tell them, your Grace?"
I consider my answer, wishing for the aid of dragons but unwilling to draw my children nearer to danger.
It would be hours until they'd arrive, but it would be too late by then.
"Tell them the truth. The realm will speak of it soon enough,"
With a curt nod, Ser Lorent is gone, opening the door wider to allow another in behind him.
"Mother?"
Joffrey was the spitting image of his older brothers. His broad shoulders were much like Jacaerys but his subtle curl reminded me much of Lucerys in his older age.
I suppose it was Ser Harwin Strong they were truly reflections of.
How could I have been so lucky to have been loved by such devoted men, and in the same breath have such luck where I've lost them all?
Meeting my son halfway I grasp his forearms, stopping him just shy from the balcony overlooking the destruction below.
