Last Man Standing / Jacaerys Velaryon / Alys Rivers / Taelon Targaryen

15. Sour

Daemon followed the knocking and the footsteps among the water droplets before coming across a room with a girl he once knew. A rhaenyra that held so much passion and life.

"Always coming and going, aren't you?" a young rhaneyra questioned, sewing up Jaehaerys neck back to his head. "And I have to clean up afterwards."

He dropped his sword it clattered to the ground and suddenly he was in the woods, a woman stared back at him.

"You will die in this place." She informed him before heading off. The witch of Harrenhal.

The one his sister had warned him about.

"Harwin?" Avalon knew her mind was playing tricks on her. He was dead. He had died in this place, and her mind was conjuring up images of him.

"Avalon. I miss you. I have missed you." He breathed back. Avalons eyes fluttered closed kissing him.

"You are not real." Avalon whispered she was scared to open her eyes. She was scared to see what she was feeling

"Stop. Stop it." Daemom begged grabbing his head and pulling at his hair.

  "All because your brother loved me more than he did you." A young Rhaenyra taunted. So he cut her head off.

"Is this what you always wanted? Is it not?" Rhaenyras severed head questioned from the ground.

Harwin stood burning before her. Avalon reached out for him and it was like she could feel the flames. She didnt understand. She codnt be seeing this. Feeling this. She started to cry hot burning tears fell down jer cheeks and then she was sat beside her brother in a haze. Avalons eyes blinked away the cloudy vision as daemon grabbed her hand disoriented.

" There's been a raven... Good morrow, Your Grace. Slept well, I trust?" Daemon stared back at him before blinking back at avalon. She looked like she had seen a ghost herself. "As I said, there's been a raven. Aegon's army departed King's Landing a fortnight ago. The castles of Rosby and Stokeworth have both fallen without siege. They have raised Aegon's banner and added their levies to Ser Criston Cole's host."

"Harwin." Avalons eyes drifted around as the words barely escaped her. She saw alys in the hallway a smile on her thin lips.

"Both houses cited that sad business with the usurper's son in their declarations. Ser Criston's army, now tripled in strength, might have Harrenhal as its destination." A goat glanced his way through the rubble as they passed. It made avalon jump. She was never this jumpy. She missed home. She missed her kids and her husband. Larys was right about this place. " Even if you can raise a host of Rivermen, they will not be ready in time to face him."

"Let's see what your Lord Paramount is made of." Daemon countered heading in.

"My prince... Uh, My-My Grace. Your Grace." Oscar said nervously.

"Hello sweetie." Avalon could handle children.

"Lord Grover is looking more hale and healthy than I expected." Daemon countered.

"Uh, this is Ser Oscar Tully, grandson to Grover Tully." Simon corrected. "He is heir to Riverrun and the future Lord Paramount of the Riverlands. His Grace, the King Consort, Daemon Targaryen. And his sister princess avalon targaryen- Strong."

"Strongaryen. We hyphenated." Avalon cut in. "Not important." She mumbled.

" It is an honor, Your Grace." Oscar agreed. "My princess."

"Pleasure to meet you lord oscar." Avalon agreed.

" Indeed." Daemon agreed taking a seat. "How fares your grandsire?"