The Unburnt

Chapter 36 - When did we become this?

Wowza, two chapters in a day (yes I just published "The Silent Flame" thank you very much). If you are kind enough to check out my other story (yes Daemon is the main character because I will not write anyone else BUT him: https://embed.wattpad.com/1475330401-the-silent-flame-%7E-daemon-targaryen-cast) A dark-twisted-love story. It puts the events of this one to shame!

And we are almost closing in on the few last chapters? Who is sad because Visenya and Daemon story is finished? Don't cry people, don't cry. Yeah, I never thought most of you all would enjoy it and to my surprise, there are many Daemon fans out there so, yesss! We had a lot of fun and there is more to come.

High Valyrian in bold.

Daemon Targaryen

The wind carries the stench of smoke and ash from the battlefield below as I guide Caraxes in a slow, circling descent around the Eyrie.

The castle, perched atop its mountain roost, seems untouched by the chaos we unleashed.

Visenya, atop her ancient beast, soars above the castle walls, her crimson cape a dot of blood on the green dragon. Vhagar's shadow consumes the valley in a shroud of foreboding. She circles the Eyrie once more, ensuring every soul below understands the power we wield. My chest tightens with pride as I watch her—my sweet niece, fierce and unrelenting.

I look back at the carnage that followed Visenya and Rhaenys', saying goodbye to my mother's mount, and ordering Caraxes to follow my wife.

Vhagar roars, shaking the air with her dominance, and I urge Caraxes closer, landing behind Visenya on the bridge that leads to the gates. For a moment I fear the bloody bridge will topple over. The structure trembles beneath Vhagar's weight as she lowers herself to the stone, her maw still tinged with the evidence of victory.

Visenya leans slightly forward in her saddle, her form regal and terrifying all at once, her golden bodice catching the sunlight like a second skin.

I whistle sharply, and Caraxes obeys, settling on the bridge behind her, his long neck coiling as his eyes narrow at Vhagar, his mate. The tension between the dragons mirrors the unspoken tension that hangs in the air between me and my wife. The death of Rhaenys still lingers between us like a question mark, though now is not the time to address it.

A procession emerges from the gates—Lady Jeyne Arryn herself, flanked by her household guards. Her composure is admirable, dressed in blue and holding her head high, given the spectacle of death and fire that brought us here. She pauses at the start of the bridge closer to her castle, her lips pressed into a tight line, her gaze flicking between Vhagar and Caraxes with a mixture of fear and awe.

Visenya dismounts with practiced grace, her feet hitting the stone with a soft thud. Seeing such a small woman next to such a mighty dragon is mouth dropping. Some of the guards of Lady Jeyne seem to need to pick their jaws from the floor.

My wife waits for me to join her, her hand brushing against Vhagar's side in a show of affection and control.  With a powerful wing flap, the she-dragon rises back to the skies. I too step out of my saddle and Caraxes joins Vhagar, clicking noises pestering the older she-dragon as if my mount were praising her for her victories. My boots meeting the ground with a deliberate weight, and fall in step beside her.

"Lady Jeyne," I greet, my voice carrying over the bridge like a blade. "We have come to ensure the safety of the Vale, out of respect and also, in behalf of the Crown."