Burn Together ❖ Daemon Targaryen

Chapter 45

Things had changed in the Red Keep after the Battle of the Gullet. With Jacaerys too injured to move, Vaelon hurt, and Vermax and Stormcloud dead, Queen Rhaenyra had had enough of waiting around and behaving herself in front of her small council and declared that it was time for her to act and show the men of Westeros why her father had named her his heir.

She had wanted to stay another few days in the Red Keep in case Jacaerys or Vaelon's condition changed, but luckily there had been no difference thus far, which reassured her enough to feel confident in being absent.

The original plan had been for Rhaellanne, Lyanna, and Baelor to head to the Lannister army who were marching for Harrenhal and crush them, however, the Targaryens were angry. They wanted revenge for their children and they wanted to shed blood, and none more so than Daemon and Rhaenyra who mounted Caraxes and Syrax and joined their family. 

Thanks to the darkness in the sky they met no obstacles on the way, and were able to land outside the camp of their army in Bitterbridge without a problem. Black soldiers bowed to the four Targaryens as they made their way through the camp and headed for the main tent where they could find the Lords Stark, Dustin, Frey, and Rivers.

"Your Grace" Lord Frey bowed to them as they entered the tent. "Allow me to introduce you to Lord Cregan Stark and his commander, Lord Dustin, as well as Ser Rivers."

All Targaryen eyes went straight to the Lord of the North who they had yet to meet. Lyanna had initially been nervous to meet her betrothed, but one look at him and she could feel butterflies in her stomach.

He did not look much older than Baelor, and had midnight black hair which cascaded down to his broad shoulders, contrasting against his pale skin. His expression was fierce and tough, and the clothing he wore was different from all the Southern men. They dressed themselves in nothing but armour, yet he wore a thick wool cloak on top of his very thick armour too.

While his exterior may have been composed and cold, on the inside he was nervous too.

Tales of Lyanna Targaryen's beauty had reached Winterfell, and judging by everything Jacaerys had told him during his time up North he had expected her to be beautiful and intelligent, but it was nothing compared to seeing her in person.

Most young women in Westeros dressed in light silk dresses with beautiful embroidery designed to appeal to noble men, but Lyanna was something else.

Here she stood in his tent wearing black dragon scale armour with her long white hair falling in waves down her back.

To break the silence (and admittedly stop himself from gouging Cregan's eyes out), Baelor cleared his throat loudly. "My Lord, allow me to introduce you to my aunt Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen, First of Her Name Queen of the Andals and the Rhoynar and the First Men. Lady of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the realm."

"It is my deepest honour, Your Grace" he spoke, his voice as smooth and deep as Lyanna had imagined, with a thicker accent "My uncle has always spoken so highly of you, my Queen, but now I see that he has undersold your beauty"

Rhaenyra was practically double his age. But the flattery was sweet, so she smiled. "Thank you, my lord. And thank you for your house's support has been a great help. And may I present my family to you, My Lord, my sister the Hand of the Queen, Princess Rhaellanne Targaryen and her husband Prince Daemon Targaryen. Queen and King of Dragons and the Narrow Sea, and Lady and Lord of Dragonstone"

It was already clear to Cregan that Daemon and Rhaellanne were not to be messed with. Their reputations for brutality and power were fearsome but in person they were infinitely scarier. Rhaellanne's silver hair was only kept back by two braids at the top of her head, and she donned no armour, but only a dark leather dress with dragon scales embellishing it, while the top half of Daemon's hair was tied out of his face and he wore his own armour and both of his hands rested on the hilt of Dark Sister