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SEVENTEEN;
『 THE TRUE QUEEN 』

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ㅤ     THE FOUR DRAGONS ARE PERCHED ON THE EDGE OF A HILL. Because of the smog, it's difficult to see far in front of ourselves, but we'll be able to hear the dragons. The one things dragon lack in is stealth. They have ungodly strength, but they do lack in the arts of quietness. I shift on the mount strapped to Ghaelar and fiddle with the tranquil darts in my hand.

Since Syrax is a smaller dragon, my best bet would be to shoot a tranquil dart and send the golden beast down. Rhaenyra knows how to control her dragon like a second nature. She'll be able to land Syrax well enough, even as she experiences the sleepiness that the dart will cause. I look at the row of dragon riders next to me. Aemond looks unsure, understandably. He's been tasked against Daemon and Caraxes. His best bet will be to shoot an arrow somewhere on Daemon, most likely his thigh, something that will be protected by armor, and then tranquilized Caraxes. The beast that he is will probably need two of the darts.

The anticipation of their arrival of them seems to grow thicker by the second. I grip the wooden bow in my hands and look at Helaena, whom is the furthest down the line. I cant make it out very well due to the distance the the fog, but it seems as though she's fiddling with a bug in her hands. I turn back to Ghaelar and scratch the black scales of his neck.

Suddenly the sounds of wings echoes across the area. I know that sound all too well. "Positions!" I command the small army of four. We all take our bows in our hands and hold them out towards the fogged sky.

"Arrows!" I fall. Everyone loads their arrows into their bow. For some, it's a tranquil dart, for some it's an arrow. I close one eye and ready myself to shoot at the target which will be moving at a rapid pace.

"Draw!" I say when the first dragon comes into view. It's Caraxes. Aemond lets go of his arrow and it whirs across. He gets hit somewhere between the knee and the ankle, I believe. Aemond immediately loads his tranquil dart into his bow and pulls back, releasing the dart directly into the neck of the dragon. Immediately his wings begin to waver, from lack of control.

Aemond takes off after them. He'll be following them wherever they land to combat on field. The next rider to appear is Rhaenys. Aegon quickly releases the arrow in his grasp. The arrow doesn't hit Rhaenys, but it flies just over her head. I breathe out when the arrows passes her. Aegon loads the tranquil dart with shaky hands and releases it aimed in the direction of Meleys. The female dragon grunts. Aegon loads another and managed to hit this dart just below the other. Meleys is gigantic. I wonder if two darts are even enough, but as the dragon's wings begin to fault, I realize it is. Aegon follows after the two of them quickly.

The next rider is Rhaena, riding Morning. Helaena drops the creature in her hands and darts Morning in the neck. It only takes one for the beast to begin showing signs of weariness. I assigned Helaena to Rhaena because I know they both won't want to take part in combat. I'm sure Rhaena is only here because of Rhaenys. I don't believe she wants anything to do with battle. At least I hope so. Helaena glides down after her and I'm left alone. I keep my bow loaded and pulled back, reading to release at any moment.

I don't hear Syrax behind me. I guess some dragons can be stealthy.

I'm knocked off Ghaelar's back. The bow flies out of my hand, along with the tranquil darts that had been in my hand. I roll down the side of the snow-coated hill. When I finally tumble down and reach the flat land below, I'm winded. I'm coughing and spewing out bits of snow. I can barely breathe. My eyes grow heavy, but I manage to make out the figure of Syrax landing a few yards in front of me. I sit up and grip my ribs, which hurt from the impact. I curse myself silently for having not worn armor instead of my dragon riding gear.

Rhaenyra appears slowly through the mist. I rise to my feet, coughing and wheezing. I take my sword from my belt and hold it in my hands, ready to defend myself. She holds her own sword, Blackfyre. It was the sword wielded by Aegon the Conquerer. I take in a deep breath of air and tighten the grip on my sword. It isn't the sword that makes the fighter, but the experience. I know my mother has far more experience than me, but I know more new tactics than she does. My training is more modern than hers had been.

"Jacaerys is already dead," I call out. "Will you draw more blood for your own succession?" My voice is trembling but more powerful than I've ever heard of before. Rhaenyra stops in her tracks, about fifteen or so feet in front of me.

"I don't have to draw blood," she says. "You are forcing me to. You refuse to give it up." Her words cut deep. It's been a long time since I've heard her voice, too long. It's no longer warm. It's cold and isolated, but still I find myself having missed her voice.

"It was Viserys' final wish. You are going against his desires to fill your own. That doesn't seem fair." Her jaw clenches at the mention of her father.

Suddenly she makes advances towards me and swings her sword. I deflect it with my own. We spend the next ten minutes in a heated up-close sword fight. One deflects and one attacks. It's a cycle that seems it may never end. I suddenly lurch forward and point my blade in a new place. She isn't prepared to deflect. I almost catch the edge of her gear, but instead my sword strikes the air. She pushes me and I almost land on my sword. Fortunately, I'm able to lift my arm away from my body as I fall face-first into the snow. When I roll over, prepared to strike, she hits her blade against mine, sending my sword skidding a few feet away.

"I don't want to hurt you," her breath fogs the air. "You are my only daughter. You are my flesh, my blood. Give it up now and I swear I will lay down my sword and command the rest of my army to do the same." Her voice could cut ice.

It's a good offer, really. But, I know something she does not. If there's one thing that could change her mind about me it's a child. She loves nothing more than her own children, therefore I presume she would love her grandchild as well. Her blade is pointed down at me but I know she has no intention of striking. She couldn't, no matter how much she might want to.

"If you kill me, you will also be killing the baby inside of me." My words are thin and soft.

Her eyes widen as she stares down at me. I slowly pull myself upward. She pulls her blade away from me as I move. I rise to my feet and stand inches away from her. I'm so close I can make out the almost violet details in her eyes. Her eyes look all around my face, as if trying to solve some sort of puzzle. I stand my ground.

"If you kill me, you will also be killing the next heir to the iron throne." My words seem to dig into her. "You won't be able to live with yourself." I can feel the tears threatening my eyes but I will refuse to let them stream down.

"You're pregnant?" She seems shocked. I nod. She drops Blackfyre into the snow next to her.

I start to back away as her hands grab at me, but then I realize what she's trying to do. She's trying to hug me. I allow her arms to grasp around me. She pulls as the fabric of my riding gear tightly. I wrap my arms around her, gently. I do not yet feel safe enough to truly hold her. She strokes my hair. I feel like a childish little girl again, wrapped in the warm arms of her mother, as if they may protect her from every threat in the world.

       "I am so sorry my daughter." She whispers into my ear. I shudder as I hear her voice in my ear.

      She and Daemon call off their troops. Aemond and my father had been fighting a long battle with no clear winner. We managed to find them just outside of the wall circling swords. Daemon did not want to stand down, but Aemond was relieved. Rhaenys and Aegon landed close to the coast. I presume they had circled back around and then landed. Rhaenys had her blade to Aegon's next upon arrival. He was lucky we arrived when we did. Helaena and Rhaena hadn't landed far, perhaps a mile away from the hills. They were just standing, talking to one another, like old friends. Neither of them had swords drawn or anything of the sort. After everyone was collected, with their dragons following after them, we ventured back to the hills where my mother addressed the group of individuals.

      "It was my intention to claim the iron throne. I was ready to take any means necessary to do so." Her voice is strong. "My own blood, my son, Jacaerys' life was sacrificed because of my behavior. For that I am truly sorrowful." My eyes and my mothers fall to Daemon. His head is bowed slightly in a deep shame. Obviously he hadn't meant to kill my brother, but still he died.

      "Our soldiers will fall back immediately. The ships will be loaded and the soldiers of Dragonstone and Driftmark will return to their stations immediately." She continues. I stand beside her, on slightly raised ground, above the rest. She steps off a few moments later and joins the others on the ground. She stands next to Daemon with her hands placed in front of her.

      "My family, my friends," my voice has finally found its strength. "I will offer places here in King's Landing to my parents, Rhaenys, and her children. Dragonstone will continue to be held by Rhaenyra and Daemon. You will all swear an oath to me, Your Queen, and then we will be on our ways." I announce to the people surrounding me.

   -ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

       THE SOLDIERS HAVE RETREATED BACK TO THEIR STATIONS. The ships have left. The bloodshed is no longer. The throne room is filled with people, Lords and Ladies, Princes and Princesses. My mother and father are among them. They step forward and bend the knee to me. They utter the scared words of oath to myself and Aemond. It is a promise of loyalty and peace. Rhaenyra hands her sword, Blackfyre to one of the knights. He presents it to me and I take it.

      Once they have sworn the oath, House Velaryon does the same. They share the same words with the same meanings. Once they are lifted off the knee, they return to the others in the audience of the throne room.

      All it took to turn around a looming war was a child, the child in me. He or she will be the heir to the iron throne and the eventual protector of the seven realms. Once the audience has dismissed, I notice my mother and father lingering. I cross the steps and greet them on the floor. Their heads tip in greeting.

       "Dinner will be served within the hour." I announce to them. My mother manages a thin smile and shakes her head.

     "I'm afraid we must go. My boys are still at Dragonstone and I must get back to them. I wish I could stay, but someone must maintain the island." She says. I nod and look to Daemon. He nods in agreeange of her words. I look between the two of them, my parents.

     "There will always be a place for you here. I swear it." My words seem to chill the air around me. I hug them both then watch as they exit through the great doors. Before she exits the room entirely, my mother turns her head and glances back at me.

      "Oh," she says. "Congratulations." Her smile disappears as she rounds the corner. She means my child. Aemond still does not know of the baby that kicks inside of me. He's just as oblivious to it as everyone else is. I haven't told a single soul other than my mother. I decided to wait until the battle's fires died out, and finally, it has.

      Aemond walks down the steps and takes his place beside me. "Congratulations?" He questions. I shake my head and we walk out of the throne room in the direction of the dining hall.

      Tonight, dinner will be hosted in the great dining chambers. There's enough room to sit a hundred, but the audience will consist of Alicent, Aemond, Aegon, Helaena, Lucerys, and myself. The last time a family dinner was tried with Alicent, back when Viserys was alive, it had gone horribly. This time, I pray that all will go well.

      We take our seats around the table. Aemond sits at the head opposite me. Already, there is such life at the table. Lucerys and Helaena are talking about bugs, and Alicent is pestering Aegon about something. The first dish is served and we all dig in like a pack of wild animals. When one of the cooks noticed that I haven't touched my wine, she seems to grow alert of my needs.

      "Would you like some water, Your Grace?" Her voice is squeaky as a mouse. I nod. She disappears then reappears moments later with a pitcher of water. She fills a cup and sits it next to my wine glass. I take a few sips of the water, then whenever I sit it down on the table, I notice everyone's eyes are on me.

      "What are you not drinking? We've just one a battle!" Aegon's prickly voice says from across the table. I grin. He's prompted the perfect question for me to answer with a clue.

       "You see, some say wine isn't best for pregnant women to have." My eyes flicker to Alicent, who seems to process my words faster than the rest. She's had three children, therefore her quickness does not surprise me.

      Aemond stands up at the opposite head of the table, which scratches his chair against the stone. His eye is wide and alert.

      "You're pregnant?" His voice carries around the room. I nod. He runs around the table and immediately places his hand on my stomach. I lean back in my chair to give him space. He seems to be extremely fascinated by what's going on in there.

      "Was that a kick?" His voice is frantic. I shake my head with a grin.

      "That was the sheep digesting." Lucerys and Helaena laugh from the side of the table. He swipes his thumb over the fabric of my dress, as if he can feel the baby.

      The rest of the dinner is spent in celebration. Not only for the battle, but also for the new heir. Already, this child has provided so much vibrancy to my world. Aemond and I walk back to our chambers. He's suspiciously quiet. Usually he has much to say after dinner. Whether it's about the food or the conversation or dragons. I take to the balcony once we enter our chamber and Aemond follows me. The night air is freezing. Winter is upon us.

      Aemond takes my hand and turns me to face him. He bends to his knees in front of me. He presses his head to my belly. He kisses my stomach even though it is separated by fabric. After he's spent a few moments on his knees, I extend my hand and help him up. He takes his place next to me on the balcony. I rest my elbows on the railing and lean on them as I stare out at the ocean that trails out before us.

      "I must say, for a woman who has never seen battle, you acted fearlessly." He takes one of my hands and examines the scars from my fathers sword. They still have lots of healing that needs to be completed. Forever they will remain, and they will remind me that I should never turn my back on my family.

      "I acted like that because I knew hundreds of thousands of lives depended on it." I answer quietly. He nods and runs his index finger along the widest cut on my left hand. The scarring looks horrid as of now, but I hope one day it'll look a bit more inviting, perhaps.

      "Do you not fear death?" His words puff in front of him in a cold cloud of air.

       "No." I reply sternly.

      "Why?" His head tilts slightly.

    My words come out in a hushed whisper.

   "Because everyone dies in the game of thrones."

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