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❝IT IS ONE THING TO HEAR ABOUT DRAGONS... IT'S ANOTHER TO SEE THEM FOR YOURSELF❞
GAME OF THRONES
SEASONS 1-AU 8 & beyond
DAENERYSxOCxOC
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( ACT III; the dawn of the dragon. ) ⟵ ◊ ⟶ chapter seven: funeral pyre and dragon fire.
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QUEEN Raina thought there would be no better way for Selmy to be sent off from the living world than by dragonfire under the blush colors of sunrise. Therefore, she had his body brought to the prairie outside Mereen for a funeral, a pyre constructed by a platoon of Unsullied that now stood at a silent vigil for the fallen knight.
The woman watched as the emerald dragon stepped up to the pyre, nostrils flaring as Haelyx drew in the scent of the dead knight. She covered over his body almost protectively, as if she knew of his noble deeds and the honor they afforded him.
Raina still couldn't believe the emerald beast before her was hers to claim, all at the support and recommendation of Vaegon. They hadn't flown together, sealing the bond, but somewhere inside Raina felt the tug of some destiny toward the dragon, a calling to mount and soar through the clouds. As if they were fated for each other long ago.
A bastard born northerner, soon to be a dragon-riding queen.
Vaegon hadn't argued when she'd requested that Selmy be brought to the prairie to be burned that morning. The king had been hesitant to permit she and Daenerys to leave the safety of the pyramid, understandably, after the attack that had taken the knights life. Thankfully, her husband knew Selmy deserved no less than this.
"Remember the words," Daenerys gently murmured at Raina's side.
The Valyrian they'd been practicing everyday for weeks now. It only befit a queen of the Targaryen dynasty to know the language of her husband's heritage. The language of the dragons. The babe in belly would one day speak the same words, a small reassurance that comforted her in that moment.
Raina sighed heavily. Flattening the tresses of her grey-blue dress against herself, she stepped forward toward the pyre. Vaegon and Daenerys remained quiet behind her, watching with empathetic gazes.
Stopping at the side of the pyre opposite of the waiting dragon, Raina looked down on Selmy with sorrow. He'd been dressed in a formal doublet of stone grey, a small version of the Targaryen sigil embroidered on the breast over his heart. The wounds thankfully weren't visible, hidden beneath the funeral attire. He truly appeared to be sleeping, she thought, albeit the greying tint of his skin betrayed the truth.
"Loyal until the end," she murmured as her hand gripped his, the cold skin a Stark comparison to the warm breeze wafting past.
How many had she lost to the clutches of death? To the tribulations of life? Her time in King's Landing had hardened her, turned her from girl to woman. Selmy had been there through it all, defending her where he could. Syeadfast in his vowed loyalty to preserve the innocent child she was arriving to a den of lions and all manner of suffering. The tears began to flow as she squeezed his hand one last time before letting go.
