The Dragon's Dilemma

Rhaenyra I

Rhaenyra

It had been two long, painful days since the devastating news of Rhaenys' death at Rook's Rest reached Dragonstone. The mood in the castle was somber, cloaked in grief. Rhaenyra, though shaken by the loss of her beloved cousin, knew that there was little time for mourning. They were at war, and every moment spent grieving could be an opportunity for the enemy to strike. But it was not easy to maintain focus with sorrow hanging so heavily in the air.

Baela, Rhaenys' granddaughter, had taken the news hard, her grief compounded by anger. She found some comfort in Jacaerys' arms, though his own sadness seemed to fuel a fierce rage toward Aemond, the one responsible for this new horror. The Sea Snake, Corlys Velaryon, had withdrawn entirely, shutting himself away from the world in his chambers, too broken by the loss of his wife to face anyone. Rhaenyra understood his pain all too well, but there was a kingdom to reclaim. Now, more than ever, she needed her allies to remain strong.

Rhaenyra sighed, steeling herself for the day ahead. The war council awaited, but before she could join them, she needed to speak with Jacaerys in private. He was growing into his own as a leader, but his youth and impulsiveness worried her. She had to ensure they remained aligned.

About twenty minutes later, Jacaerys entered her chambers. He was dressed in a fine black silk cloak embroidered with red dragons along the shoulders, his dark curls framing his intense face. The young prince's expression softened when he saw his mother, and Rhaenyra stepped forward, gently brushing a stray lock of hair behind his ear before embracing him.

Jacaerys awkwardly pulled away after a moment, clearing his throat and bowing slightly. "Your Grace," he greeted formally, though a warmth lingered in his eyes.

"Jace," Rhaenyra replied with a small smile. Despite the tension, she took comfort in his presence. She gestured to a chair across from her. "Sit. I need to speak with you before the council."

Jacaerys obliged, taking the offered seat and a cup of wine from one of the servants. His usual fiery demeanor seemed more subdued today, replaced by a contemplative air.

"The loss of Rhaenys and Meleys weakens us," Rhaenyra began after a sip of wine. "The Greens may see this as an opportunity to strike, and we cannot afford to appear vulnerable."

"If they value their lives, they won't dare," Jacaerys muttered darkly, his fingers tightening around his goblet.

"We cannot assume they will act with caution," Rhaenyra continued, her voice steady. "The Greens may already be plotting, emboldened by our losses. We need to demonstrate our strength if we are to retain the loyalty of our allies."

Jacaerys stood abruptly and walked to the window, his gaze distant. "We need more Dragonriders," he said after a moment. "Meleys was our strongest beast, and with her gone, only Caraxes stands a chance against Vhagar. But one dragon isn't enough."

Rhaenyra sighed, setting her cup aside. "And where, exactly, do you propose we find these new riders? Rhaena has tried to claim the unbound dragons, and there are no other Targaryens loyal to us."

Jacaerys turned to face her, a sly smile tugging at his lips. "There are others," he said, his voice low with implication. "Not Targaryens of name, but of blood."

Rhaenyra's eyes narrowed in realization. "You cannot be serious," she said, her tone laced with disbelief. "Bastards? You would have us trust the dragons to lowborn bastards?"