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305 After the Conquest – King’s Landing
Holding open court had become a staple in the months following the fall of the Lannister reign in Westeros in 305 AC. It had been a long journey, years of fighting tooth and nail to recapture the Iron Throne, the birthright that had been stolen away years and years before.
It seemed that the Gods, Old and New alike, knew what was to be.
They knew of destiny, of fate.
Of ice and fire.
They knew that the Iron Throne of Westeros was forged by dragon flame to seat one family and one family alone.
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The doors to the throne room were thrust open as those in attendance went silent, all heads turning in unison to watch as their Ruler entered the room with grace. The only sound was that of the armor of the guard that followed a pace behind. The silence was broken by the strong clear voice of that of the Hand of the Queen.
“All hail, Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen, the First of Her Name, Queen of the Andals and the First Men, Protector of the Seven Kingdoms, the Mother of Dragons, the Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea, the Unburnt, the Breaker of Chains.”
Her title was long, and well earned. It lent to her struggles and accomplishments in her journey to exactly where she was meant to be; Queen of the Seven Kingdoms.
Her silver hair was styled in the braids of a one experienced in battle, the black of her dress and crimson of her cloak was every image of a Targaryen Queen. The silver chains that adorned her person honored her three children, her dragons Drogon, Viserion, and Rhaegal.
“Thank you, Tyrion.” Daenerys spoke as she arrived at the throne and turned to greet her people, “Now, to what matters do we have to tend today?”
Only months before it had nearly seemed that all was lost, but it was the courage of a trusted few that made all the difference. The Stark’s of Winterfell, and the Arryn’s of the Vale, and the Greyjoy’s of the Iron Islands were vital to her success. It had been the quick work of Yara Greyjoy and her brother Theon that cut the Lannister’s off at the knees when they had gutted and beheaded their uncle Euron before he could employ the services of the Golden Company from Essos on the behalf of the false Queen Cersi.
Jon Snow and Grey Worm led the ground forces while Daenerys took to the skies on dragon back during Cersi’s last stand. With the Greyjoy fleet ready and waiting to come ashore in Blackwater Bay, Daenerys, atop her dragon, blew out the east wall surrounding King’s Landing.
After the assault on the east wall, the city fell within hours.
Those who opposed bending the knee to their rightful Queen were put to the sword immediately without further question. The swords of the Queen’s Justice that day were Jon, Greyworm, and Yara, their blades bloodied by traitors to the Realm as they ended the lives of more than a few that day.
In the months since, Daenerys and her Council had worked to start to rebuild and heal a Realm that had long been at odds. Now, once again united under their Targaryen Queen they all shared a common cause.
Prosperity.
The most trusted advisors in the Queen’s inner circle were installed into office as a part of her Small Council. Those members were fortunate to be a part of something that had not been seen in nearly two centuries as they united in support of a Targaryen Queen. Those who were chosen to sit at her side were Tyrion Lannister as Hand of the Queen, Davos Seaworth as Master of Coin, Missandei as Master of Whisperers, Yara Greyjoy as Master of Ships, Greyworm as Master of Laws, Ser Brienne of Tarth as Lord Commander of the Queen's Guard, and Marwyn the Mage as Grand Maester.
Daenerys selected carefully, considering all her options while selecting those that would assist her in the governing of the Realm. Each one proved their loyalties to her in some way. Missandei was her closest friend, having been at her side through so much and had provided unwavering support in her campaign for the Throne. Tyrion was sometimes her loudest champion. Often too honest for his own good, but she valued his advice all the same. Greyworm was one that she trusted with her life, and had in fact, for years. Ser Brienne, her Lord Commander, had more honor than anyone that she had ever met. Davos had always leaned toward her nephew Jon, but with Jon’s heart being in the North, somewhere beyond the Wall, he instead put his trust in her, and for that she rewarded him with a seat at her table for as long as he wanted it. Marwyn had attracted her attention due to his years of study in irregular subjects of the Citadel. He specialized in searching for and studying lost teachings, having learned many of his specialties from warlocks and shadowbinders.
The final member of her Small Council held a unique position in her life. Her Master of Ship commanded her fleet of several hundred ships, thousands of men, and her in certain circumstances. Winning Yara’s allegiance had proved most vital in her pursuit of the Iron Throne, but who better to support her than an Iron Born. Yara was a force, unforgiving as the sea. It was easy to find her charming when they met as Yara offered support for her cause without wanting something in return like most everyone else that she tried to gather to her cause. She looked back on that day often with a fondness.
“And I imagine your offer is free of any marriage demands.” Daenerys asked, daringly.
“I never demand, but I’m up for anything really.” Yara replied, that charming smirk of hers gracing her features.
Daenerys had been intrigued from the very beginning.
It was an easy decision to make the heir of the Iron Islands’ Salt Throne, someone who had spent her life aboard her father’s ships and later her own, her Master of Ships. She felt that she was objective in her choice. Yara was the best fit for the position. It had nothing to do with the fact that they shared a bed more often than not.
Truly.
Yara gave her the space that she needed to find herself in this new life that she was living. She supported her, offered advice from the heart, and bedded her expertly when she needed the touch of another. It was Yara that was growing to know her best. Conversations that they shared in the late hours when the night was darkest revealed her true feelings. Strong calloused fingers moved smoothly through silver hair as she laid against a taut stomach while she confessed her loneliness.
Not Loneliness for friends or a lover, but for family. Jon was all she had in the world, and he too had left her alone in pursuit of his own family that he so wanted with the wilding from the far North. He swore that he would return, but they knew not when.
Jon had once shared the words of the late Aemon Targaryen with her and his words resounded in her mind all too often.
A Targaryen alone in the world is a terrible thing, but perhaps the only thing worse is a Targaryen feeling alone.
His words were etched across her heart, sealed in fire.
Real as the Iron Throne.
Real as the crown upon her head.
Daenerys didn’t know it then, but her meddlesome seafaring love was taking every single word to heart. She didn’t know then that she would soon learn much and more about the lengths that Yara was willing to go for her, resulting in lessons learned of faith and devotion, of indescribable pain and terrible loss, and of second chances and true love.
She learned that love cared nothing of time.
She learned that it could span lifetimes, if only given the chance.
Marwyn was only too eager to assist in whatever their Queen needed, and this task proved to be no different when Yara presented them with the text and the proposal. Messandei was less than eager, but was willing to hear out the plan.
“Where in the Seven Hells did you find this text, Yara? I have spent my life in search of the rare. This, that you suggest, is magnificent, but I have never done such a ritual. Reincarnation should not be taken lightly. You speak of disturbing the dead.” Marwyn whispered as continued, “It’s tricky business, but I am willing to try for Her Grace if it is what she desires.”
“She has asked you for this, Yara?” Missandei asked, her voice hesitant.
“Of course not. She puts the needs of her people, of us, before her own.” Yara scoffed, “You know her as well as I. She doesn’t know of the tome yet. I wanted to get your opinions before I discussed the subject with her.”
“Again, Lady Grayjoy, I ask, where did you get this? It’s possibly one of the oldest Valyrian texts I’ve ever seen. I know you didn’t just happen across such a book.” Marwyn inquired once more.
“Call me Lady Greyjoy again and I will choke you with your own Chain of Office. My mother was Lady Greyjoy, and I am certainly not her.” Yara warned before she continued, “I got the book from Pyke. I’m not certain how it came to be there, but I found it after my father died and we threw his shit from the castle. This book belongs not to House Greyjoy. It belongs to Daenerys as she is the only one with a drop of Valyrian blood in her within a thousand leagues of this city.”
“This could go very badly.” Missandei explained, “It is not proper to disturb those who are eternally resting. I fear this will not be completed without consequence. Mayhaps, even grave ones.”
“Do you wish for what is best for our Queen, Missandei, or not?” Yara questioned sharply.
“Don’t be ridiculous. I have been at her side longer than any here.” Missandei snipped, “However, I fear that I am the only one thinking clearly here. Yara, your judgment is clouded by your desire for her. Marwyn, your lust for the impure, the profane, it what drives you, not your devotion to our Queen.”
Yara laughed before settling her gaze on the Master of Whispers, “Are you willing to help or not? No matter if you do or don’t, I am still presenting this to Daenerys.”
Missandei realized that she was outnumbered two to one in this quest they were embarking on for the sake of their Queen. Daenerys, however, was more reluctant than Yara had expected her to be at first. Although, it was good for a Queen to be thoughtful in all things.
“What you speak of is madness. Besides, why would I want this?” Daenerys asked softly as they lay together that night, “I just got my throne back, why would I welcome a challenger? You’ve seen the lengths that men will go to in their pursuit for power. They will stop at nothing to take it from me. My own blood included, I fear.”
“Perhaps then, it may be best to seek out a woman instead?” Yara suggested as if it had been apparent all the while, “Perhaps, the only other Queen that Westeros has ever seen? Think of the wisdom that she could share with you. I think that you two share more than either of us could imagine.”
“Rhaenyra?” Daenerys asked, “Her tale is a most unfortunate one. I do wonder though, how much of it is true? Surely history could not have been as unkind to her as the men who wrote it. What you’re proposing, darling, I wish to know more.”
Maegi Sorcery of Valyria explained it well.
The alchemy of it all was all too clear.
Only one that possesses the heart of a dragon shall be remade. Dragon blood must be taken by dragon glass and restored in dragon flame to be reborn in their dragon form.
With ash and bone, the request must be made in prayer to our Gods of the Fourteen Flames.
From Balerion, God of death, pray the one in which you seek
From Shrykos, Goddess of beginnings, pray for them a flame reborn
From Vermax, God of boundaries and travel, pray for their return through the darkness
From Arrax, God of strength, pray for the ability prosper in a new light
Daenerys’ face was always so expressive, her words clear in their delivery, but as Marwyn pulled the bronze urn from its entombment in the Red Keep she was silent, her face void of any emotion at all.
For 175 years Rhaenyra had rested there beneath the Keep.
That is to say, the parts of her that were left anyway.
It was that day that Yara, Missandei, and Marwyn left King’s Landing for Dragonstone by ship. Daenerys, as usual, preferred to travel on dragonback. The ancient island citadel of House Targaryen seemed fitting for such a feat, and not to mention it was the only known location to boast a large deposit of dragon glass. And perhaps, if they were successful, it would bring a modicum of comfort to Rhaenyra.
Although the island has likely changed in time since she had been…away.
As none among their small number had any idea what to expect from such a display of ancient blood magic they came as prepared as they could be as the castle guard was a short way away. Drogon, Daenerys’ greatest protector, would also be there to contribute the flame as directed by the text. With him there, what could there be to truly fear?
The caves of the dragon mount served the perfect place to find the privacy and space that their task demanded.
Marwyn and Missandei set to work creating a circle of ash that they poured from the urn before carefully placing a piece of driftwood in the center to ensure that it burned for more than a moment.
“My Queen, it is time.” Missandei said softly, holding out a piece of dragon glass for her to take which was accepted a moment later.
Daenerys stood still, her violet eyes lifting from the ash ring to meet those that she adored. Yara gave her a subtle nod in encouragement before Daenerys sliced into her palm open with the dragon glass spilling her sacred blood into the ring, droplets falling into the gray ash all around and onto the driftwood.
“Dany, that should be more than sufficient. Allow me, please?” Yara whispered softly before she wrapped as clean cloth around her hand to bandage it, “Nearly there, darling. You’ve done so well.”
“Shall we continue, Your Grace?” Marwyn asked, lifting the thick text in question.
“Continue.” Daenerys ordered, “Let us not have disturbed her for nothing.”
“Hear me, a few of Fourteen, I pray to you. Gods and Goddess of the Flames, please accept our offer of the blood of the Dragon taken willingly by the glass created in your image, steadfast and true. Hear me, Balerion, most honored of all, I pray to you for the return of the one before me, what was ash please make whole once more.” Marwyn began his prayer in a slow cadence, his voice clear and purposeful.
As Marwyn began his prayer to Gods, Daenerys looked to her dragon who was waiting near the wall of the massive cave, “Drogon, dracarys.”
“Shrykos, I pray to you for a new beginning for a Dragon reborn. Vermax, I pray to you, God of travel, see to a safe journey back to the land of the living. Arrax, I pray to you for strength in this flame rekindled.” Marwyn finished his prayer and for a moment there was nothing it seemed but a hiss from the driftwood that was engulfed in flame.
Suddenly, a massive plume of smoke burst forth that was thick in the air around them just before Rhaenyra Targaryen, First of Name, stepped from the smoky cloud only a few feet from Daenerys. Violet eyes met in wonder, bridging a gap filled by generations of achievements, of failures, of Kings.
“Missandei.” Daenerys whispered, her violet eyes unwavering from Rhaenyra's own.
It was only then that Rhaenyra realized that she was standing in front of these four strangers stark naked. She accepted the robes that were offered to her before turning back to the silvered hair woman in front of her.
“Who are you? What is happening?” Rhaenyra asked, clearly confused, “Where is…where is my Usurper brother?”
“My name is Daenerys Targaryen. The year is 305 After the Conquest. Your brother is long dead, as were you, but through blood magic you are no longer so.” Daenerys explained carefully as Rhaenyra lifted her hands to her head as if trying to wrap her mind about what was happening.
“Rhaenyra?”
Rhaenyra’s head whipped around at the familiar voice that was calling to her through the smoke that was slowly dissipating around them. She could not see her clearly, but she would know that voice in any year, in any lifetime.
“Alicent?” Rhaenyra whispered; her voice were words in the wind as a slight breeze blew through the cave.
Daenerys exchanged curious glances with Yara, Missandei, and Marwyn before they refocused their attention on the pair before them.
How was this possible?
There seemed to be a deep familiarity between the two as Rhaenyra wasted no time at all removing the robes that she had just received and draped them around the other woman’s shoulders so she could cover herself. They seemed to be having some silent conversation as no words were exchanged but their understanding of each other was evident.
It was Daenerys that removed her own crimson cloak and gave it to Rhaenyra so she could somewhat recover herself with something before she addressed the first Dragon Queen.
“Introductions and explanations seem to be in order. We were expecting one to walk from the fire this night, not two. Who are you?” Daenerys asked, her violet eyes settling on Alicent who looked understandably befuddled by the entire situation.
Brown eyes left the unknown woman that was questioning her and fell to the only person that she felt could answer her question, “Are we in Hell?”
Rhaenyra appraised her for a moment before answering, “Perhaps, the last thing I remember is talking to your son and then I was cut.” Rhaenyra explained, lifting a hand to her breast, “You were there, on the parapet. I saw you there. And it all went dark. Now we are. Hell? Perhaps. Although, Alicent, Hell is not somewhere that I ever thought we would meet.”
“You’re not in Hell, for fucks sake.” Yara sighed, pointing plainly as she went along, “This is Dragonstone. The year is 305 AC. This is Queen Daenerys Targaryen. You are Rhaenyra Targaryen. Missandie. Marwyn. My name is Yara Greyjoy. And who in the Seven bloody Hells are you?”
“Alicent Hightower.” Alicent whispered, her eyes finding Rhaenyra’s once more, “305 AC? How?”
“Alicent.” Daenerys spoke calmly, “I understand your need for…familiarity, but I assure you that Rhaenyra is currently as in the dark about what is happening as you are. We would best be suited for your questions, or I fear you will never get them answered.”
“Who is your father Daenerys?” Rhaenyra asked curiously.
Daenerys expected this question and had a simple answer prepared, “My father was Aerys II son of Jaehaerys II son of Aegon V son of Maekar I son of Aerys I son of Daeron II son of Aegon IV son of Viserys II.”
“Viserys? My son?” Rhaenyra whispered, as tears started to fall down her cheeks, “He survived?”
“I’m certain that there is much that we can learn from each other, but perhaps getting out of this cave and heading back up to the castle would be best.” Daenerys suggested, “I will have rooms prepared for you both. I assure you that all will be explained from our perspective. Although, I must confess that there will be gaps as I do not understand at all how Alicent…came to join us.”
An hour later they all sat together in the large dining hall on Dragonstone. The castle was almost familiar, but so much had changed with the years. As Daenerys recounted her version of the ancient Valyrian text, the ritual, and the unexpected results, Rhaenyra and Alicent could do little else but sit there feeling dazed as they listened, struggling to understand.
It was unbelievable what they were hearing. Of course, Rhaenyra had heard of blood magic and mages, blood sorcery using blood and sacrifice in ritual, but to see it, to experience it, was incomprehensible. The reincarnation, of sorts, of their souls was not something that she could reconcile in her mind, even as they sat there together, it still did not feel real.
It did not seem practical, but the familiar stirring in her belly that she had long associated with being close to Alicent Hightower told her a different story. The tingling she felt in her fingertips that had always subsided when they found the ones attached to the woman next to her felt so enterally real.
“Why disturb our rest? Our lives were dreadful enough, we do not need to live another droll tragedy.” Rhaenyra stated evenly, “How long will we be here until the Stranger comes again?”
“Perhaps, Rhaenyra, this life could be different. Our Queen is the first in Westeros since your…reign. There is no better time to be alive, and here you sit. Your House is all but eradicated. What’s left, except for one who aligns more as a Stark, sits before you. Dragons were not meant to live alone in this world. As such, here you are.” Yara explained.
Rhaenyra scoffed, “If bolstering House Targaryen is what you seek, digging up the ashes of a male would be more useful, would it not?”
“That is not what I seek, but only the satisfaction of being with family once more.” Daenerys replied evenly, “We have more in common than just our blood. You were chosen because it felt most right. Alicent, however, is here by…chance?”
For the first time in quite a while, Alicent spoke, her fingers digging at the cuticles around her nail bed as she spoke in a near whisper, “I think I now know how I came to be here as well.”
All eyes were on her now as she began to tell her own tale that had been unknown to most thus were written into the history books.
“We lost, Rhaenyra. You once said to me that neither of us may win, and you were right. We lost everything. Our children, our lives, each other. I am so sorry. I tried to undo so many things, but it was too late, and I alone could do too little. My sweet Heleana threw herself from a window in the Keep, Aemond and Daemon died together above the God's Eye locked in their overwhelming need to destroy each other, Daeron was killed in battle, and I know not even how. Aegon, my first born, my biggest failure, had become such a monster that he was poisoned by…my own hand. I murdered my own son.” Alicent explained softly as tears started to fall, “You were right. I was there. Here. Outside in the courtyard…when it happened to you. I witnessed it, the final blow. I could not take it any longer.”
The most familiar violet eyes were on her as a comforting hand reached for her as it had so many times so many lifetimes ago, its warmth providing the strength to continue.
“The Starks of Winterfell arrived too late to fight for their Dragon Queen, but Cregan lingered in the Hour of the Wolf and placed your Aegon on the throne. Coryls, in his unwavering devotion to you and yours, was at his side. Laenor, who we thought long dead, arrived back in King’s Landing a short time later with your Viserys that he had been keeping hidden and protected. Even after your death, they were so loyal to you. But, your boys, Rhaenyra, your youngest boys were so broken. As was I. I asked Coryls for one favor, although he owed me nothing. I think his soft heart too wished for the time when things were easier, back before your mother even left us and everything changed. I could not keep living in a world without you in it. I took my own life, having arranged it with Corlys to burn my body and bury me with you, the only person that had ever truly cared for me at all. It seems that he honored my request as here I sit next to you now.”
Tears were flowing freely now between the two as years of pain, unspoken words, and betrayal were pushed aside to finally provide comfort to each other as only they could.
Daenerys gave them a moment before she spoke again, “Much has happened. Perhaps a little time to work though things is necessary now. We can show you to your chambers. Please make yourselves comfortable here. Dragonstone is yours to roam freely. Let us readjourn on the morrow once things have time to settle once more.”
Such emotions were something that were not so easily settled.
Daenerys and Yara found themselves in their familiar embrace in the Queen’s chambers that first night on Dragonstone after they had recalled Rhaenyra and Alicent from beyond this life. There was quite a feeling of uncertainty at first, but as they settled in the darkness of their shared room that was only illuminated by the night sky filtering in from the balcony Yara said something that helped quell her fears.
“If I had the chance to relive a life with you, Dany, I would come back infinitely. Did you not see them as I did? They needed this. I think there is more at play here than us. You know my distaste for the Faith, but this with them spans the decades between us and I believe that the stars aligned in such a way to right more than one wrong here. Give it some time, darling, I think that soon you will see it as the second chance that it surely is.” Yara explained softly into the silver hair that fell covering her Queen’s ear.
“You mean that your meddling was some design by fate?” Daenerys teased, her fingertip grazing the arm that was wrapped around her.
“Yes, actually.” Yara replied, a teasing faux matter of fact tone to her voice.
Daenerys laughed then, from deep within her, “You sure think highly of yourself, Master of Ships.”
“Hm, well I suppose so. I am something to treasure to be sure.” Yara replied, pressing a kiss to silver hair.
“To be sure. Come, show me your worth.” Daenerys commanded, turning into her lover’s arms to seek the lips that she knew would bring the pleasure she was seeking.
“As my Queen commands.” Yara replied with a sigh as their lips met with fervor and her hands made their way across bare skin to pull her closer, much much closer.
Rhaenyra sat alone in the chambers on Dragonstone that had always been reserved for the guests of the castle when it had been hers. She felt lost in time somewhere that she was not meant to be. Her mind ran through Alicent’s words as she filled in some of the blanks and explained some of what happened in the aftermath of her death.
Alicent was neither friend nor foe for so long. All the while, she knew that she had wanted her close again. Her life, her old life, had been happiest with Alicent at her side. Before the scheming, before the decisions of men ruined them. Alicent was once so much of her heart, only sharing it with her own beloved dragon, Syrax.
Then came manipulation and arranged marriages that neither of them wanted. Then children came, born out of marital rape in Alicent’s case and born of desire in her own. Harwin had given her three beautiful boys that Alicent fought so rigorously against in their claim. Then Daemon presented as the best option to assist in her pursuit of her Throne that should have already been hers.
But there was Alicent again, steadfast in putting her own son on their Throne. So much was lost in between the early years of their friendship and the last day of her life. In the end it seems, right won out as Daenerys was proof of that. Her blood sat the Iron Throne of Westeros, but at the cost of so much.
She thought back to a warning shared with her by her most valued of counselors, Rhaenys, in the days before the war between dragons claimed her life.
There is no war so hateful to the gods as a war between kin, and no war so bloody as a war between dragons.
She was right, as she was about so many things.
Alicent’s mention of Laenor had moved her in a way that few things ever had. She had set him free of her so many years before, and yet, it seems, that he still valued her enough to protect her youngest son as he delivered him safely back to his brother who had surely missed him. Her youngest boys had been so close in their earliest days on this very island.
It hurt her heart, a stabbing pain ripping through her to think that Alicent had lost and lost until finally she took something for herself, her own life.
What was even further lost to her was why Alicent would ever make such a request from Corlys. The more her mind pondered on such a thing, the more sense it made. She could only speak for herself, but she considered her years inside her father’s castle with Alicent as some of the sweetest memories that she possessed, only eclipsed by the birth of her boys. In her youth, she had loved Alicent to be sure, but her boys, they had been the loves of her life.
Like Alicent, in losing her children, she lost a piece of herself each time, each loss harder than the last. Her two remaining children were the only thing that kept her from welcoming the warm embrace of the Stranger inside Sunfyre’s inferno.
The last thing she remembered feeling was fear for her boys, and that she would miss the warmth of brown eyes always. Different shades that all had looked at her with love.
Seeing one particular shade again as they both found themselves lost in time, brought back together once again by the magic of the blood that coursed in her veins was heart wrenching. This gift was an offering from the Gods of Old.
Only one that possesses the heart of a Dragon shall be remade.
She knew not how long they had, but she knew she could not waste another precious moment sitting here alone while her purest love sat only a short way down the corridor.
Alicent sat biting at her nail beds, crippling anxiety plaguing her senses. She had experienced fever dreams before that had felt real, but this was different. This felt tangible. She could smell the slightest hint of smoke from the island, she could almost taste the salt on the air.
How was it that this felt wrong, but so right as it seemed to become clearer that this was actually real.
Rhaenyra felt just as she always had, like a place, like home, warm and safe beside her. Her touch too had not changed. The surety in which she reached for Alicent had not changed with the ages it had been since she had last done so.
It was only a matter of a few moons between watching her greatest friend burn…be ripped to pieces by her own son’s dragon and that day that she had informed Coryls where she would be before she headed down to the seaside to leave the pain of her life behind. She cried as she prayed for the last time on shore outside that city that held the best and worst of her days.
Asking Corlys to tend to her body and place her with Rhaenyra felt like it should have been an odd request, but it came out simply and he did not seem to think it strange either as he sat unblinking before giving her a small smile and agreeing to follow through.
Where would she want to spend eternity other than beside her Dragon Queen?
A soft knock at her chamber door pulled her from her reverie. As she crossed the room and opened the door to see Rhaenyra standing there in clothes that were not hers inside the castle that had been hers when they had last been here together, it still felt right somehow. Silently she stepped aside to allow her entry unsure of what to expect.
At some point in their lives they learned to rely more on understanding each other without using words and it seemed that they had not forgotten that familiar dance between them. Violet eyes were asking for permission for what they both needed just as much as they needed this second chance at a life that they both deserved.
Alicent sighed as Rhaenyra’s hands found her own before wrapping her in an embrace that they had waited nearly two centuries for.
It was only the beginning of the healing of old wounds that had festered for too long as two hearts that had beaten as one on the best and worst days of their lives that had never really been theirs to live. Desperately, hands clung to each other, grasping for the closeness that would never be enough.
Rhaenyra felt amazed that somehow Alicent still smelled the same. Her gorgeous hair still felt the same under her fingertips. Her body was no longer that of the girl that she once knew, and she relished it. Closeness was only a fraction of what she wanted in that moment as she reigned in the complete need she felt as she rested her forehead against Alicent’s like they had so many times before. Only this time years of separation and pain hung in the small gap between their lips.
Alicent
Alicent sobbed as she clung to her, feeling lost. Lost in the feeling of comfort that has eluded her since the last time that she had stood in a similar position with a much younger version of the woman before her.
Lost in time.
Lost in love.
The Gods would not be so cruel as to give her this chance if they did not wish for her to take it.
Not in a million years, a million lifetimes would she exchange the next moment that she shared with Rhaenyra as their lips met in a sparking flame that would soon burn brighter than the dragon flame that had brought them back together.
∞
“It seems that I may have been right, hm, my Queen?” Yara teased playfully as she and Daenerys watched Rhaenyra and Alicent walk along the beach on Dragonstone from the castle.
Daenerys raised an eyebrow in reply before continuing, “It’s been two days, I would hardly think that is enough time to make an official assessment. You’re still meddlesome, and bothersome.”
“Bothersome, right. I see.” Yara replied with a smirk, “I do believe that you were singing a different tune last night, and this morning, were you not?”
Daenerys smiled to herself but did not reply directly, “Do you think they will be alright here for a time? I fear that I will not be able to explain the sudden arrival at court of my…distant relatives.”
“I think they will be fine here together.” Yara replied carefully, “I think that it may be the best thing for all of you for the time being. Although, she is a dragon rider. The youngest to ever take to your beloved skies as I’ve read it. What will you do about that?”
“I…must admit that I have not given that any thought. Targaryen’s are meant to fly. I shall discuss it with her. If she does bond with one of my children, there will be no hiding what she is.” Daenerys replied, “We shall think on it further.”
The next day the Queen and her Council left Dragonstone for King’s Landing with the promise to return very soon. Daenerys had left clear instructions that Rhaenyra’s voice held the same weight as her own while she was away. Rhaenyra, meanwhile, found comfort in just being able to enjoy her days with Alicent without the pressure of ruling the Kingdom or of any wayward family members trying to kill her. She hadn’t known such peace since the days before her own mother’s passing.
The fields on the island held witness to the beauty of budding love as roles long passed were reversed as Alicent lay with her head resting against the fabric of Rhaenyra’s gown covered thigh under the shade of a tree. Warm fingers gently rubbing against her scalp were nearly putting her to sleep as they felt a peace that had been lost long ago but had returned with such an intensity that made them look forward to their life renewed.
There had been many apologies given over their shared days together as they worked through their complicated pasts that would forever be a part of them but would no longer be their full identities. Daenerys arrived back on Dragonstone on one such afternoon astride her black dragon flanked by two other riderless dragons. Rhaenyra watched in wonder, having never seen one Targaryen command more than one with such ease.
Rhaenyra was devastated when Daenerys first told her the historical account of the last of the dragons. It seemed that their civil war had crippled their House in more ways than one.
Truer words had never been spoken when it was said that the only thing that could tear down the House of the Dragon was itself.
Rhaenyra’s eyes wandered over Daenerys’ dragons as a bit of information from her past life came barreling back before she shed light on her own theory involving the rumored lover of her great-grandfather’s sister and exactly where she speculated that those three eggs came from and how they ended up halfway across the world from where they were laid.
Another thing that Rhaenyra was impressed by was Daenerys’ ability to hang on to her mount while he flew through the air with no dragon saddle. When questioned about it, Daenerys felt confused as the thought of saddling a dragon like some common horse seemed improper.
Perhaps, Daenerys had the right of it. Dragons were magical creatures that had also found their way back to this world. Leaving them unsaddled did feel almost right. Even still, if she were to attempt to ever get Alicent on the back of one of Daenerys’ dragons, she would certainly need something to keep her safe. She would have to put more thought into should she ever find herself on dragon back again.
Weeks turned into months and still they live on, together.
As the days passed since the ritual in that cave on the dragon mount it became more and more clear that they were in fact here to stay until such a time came when they would be visited by the Stranger once more.
The love was there on Dragonstone. After everything they had been through, Rhaenyra did not hesitate to reach for Alicent if she were close enough to do so. The guard and staff became used to the fact that their Queen’s guests seemed to only have eyes for each other as the moons came and went. It was not infrequent that they steered clear of their shared room in the night as their cries of pleasure could be heard in the corridor.
Such a beautiful love it was.
One that had waited far too long to be found.
---
Back in King’s Landing Brienne and Gray Worm were growing accustomed to placing guards in the corridor that led to the Throne room, detouring passersby that may head in an unwelcome direction. Thick furs saved bare skin from the forged iron of the Throne of Westeros as their Queen sat upon it, her legs spread and quivering as the Master of Ships fucked the most delicious of moans from parted lips with her fingers and tongue. She was relentless in the way she feasted on her Queen’s dripping cunt, the evidence of her pleasure glistening across her chin when her Dany had finally had enough, please.
Daenerys Stormborn was direct in all ways when she sat the throne, unless of course it was like this. Only in moments like this did she beg and plead for more, for harder, as she fell to pieces at the skilled hands of Yara Greyjoy, the only one to ever get the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms to voluntarily bend down on her knees.
∞
It was Rhaegal, of course, that took a liking to Rhaenyra and to Alicent by extension. He growled minimally as Rhaenyra worked a rope around his neck for Alicent to hold on to as they prepared to take flight for the first time together. Rhaenyra had asked her many times in their youth for Alicent to accompany her on dragon back only to be denied each and every single time. Then, things were different, as Alicent teased, almost playful, in her refusal to join Rhaenyra on the back of her beloved Syrax.
Alicent was braver now, or perhaps she only longed to share yet another thing with Rhaenyra.
Their first flight together was not a short one.
Alicent sat in front painfully gripping the makeshift reigns that Rhaenyra had crafted for her until her white knuckles were soothed by the warm touch from the experienced dragon rider behind her, silently urging her to loosen up just a little. Rhaenyra had never made such a journey, but there was no question of their destination. For most of the day they flew together as Rhaegal soared over the Narrow Sea taking them to the westernmost coast of Essos. They found the perfect spot in a clearing with a few trees that were void of anything else but open grass fields ideal for Rhaegal to relax under the warmth of the sun.
Rhaenyra dropped down from his back first before turning to assist Alicent who wasn’t nearly as graceful but was all too willing to reward Rhaenyra with a kiss for her chivalry. Once the pack was removed from Rhaegal’s back Rhaenyra set to work setting up their picnic of spiced wine, fruits, a few pieces of meat, and lemon cake.
Alicent watched her adoringly as she set their things out before violet eyes met her own, “We should have done this a lifetime ago. Do you remember, my love, my offer to fly with you across the Narrow Sea and eat only cake? My tastes have grown from just cake, but my desire for your company alone is no different than it was on that day.”
“I remember it well.” Alicent replied, “I have thought through the years on how our lives would have turned out if we had just left it all behind then, but wondering changes nothing, and we are here together now. I don’t think that I’ve ever been happier.”
“My darling, we have married for duty, for lust, for convenience, for survival. Do you think that you would marry again, if it was for love?” Rhaenyra asked her as she offered a cup of wine.
Alicent giggled in reply, “Why? Are you asking for my hand?”
“Yes, in truth, I am asking you, my love.” Rhaenyra replied, no hint of the jest that Alicent was expecting in sight, “I do not wish to waste another moment without you being my wife. I dare say, this is how it was meant to be all along, we just couldn’t see it with the blindfolds of duty and our fathers over our eyes. But even blinded I still always felt you there just out of reach. But here you are now, and I have never seen things so clearly. Will you do me the honor of marrying me, Alicent?”
“The honor would be completely mine, Rhaenyra.” Alicent whispered across the distance between as a lone tear ran down her cheek, “So completely mine. Yes, in this lifetime and any after.”
Lips and hands were on her quickly, fingers tangled in auburn curls, with only the Gods and a snoozing dragon as witness to the most heavenly of afternoons that would be etched in their minds and across their hearts that were beating wildly as their bare bodies lay together with their limbs tangled so perfectly. Wandering fingers felt complete adorning the gold ring with a red jewel set expertly into the band as they slid across smooth warm skin of Rhaenyra’s bare back.
“I love you always, Rhaenyra.” Alicent said softly into silver hair before pressing a kiss there, “Thank you for everything, but most all, thank you for your forgiveness and showing me what it means to be loved, and to truly live”
“I love you too, my sweet darling. You were my beginning and I wish for you to be my end as well. Until then, let us continue like this. Together. Always.” Rhaenyra replied sweetly, “Dany assured me that Rhaegal can find his way back to Dragonstone, but as the hour grows later, I fear we should return before long.”
With one more lingering kiss Alicent agreed.
∞
Their ceremony had been joyous but was witnessed by only a few. Alicent had requested that their ceremony be that of the faith that had brought them back together. The vows they spoke that warm summer eve in the courtyard on Dragonstone could not have been more perfect for the two of them.
Blood was shared as they united their hearts as one.
Blood of two, joined as one.
Ghostly flame and song of shadows
Two hearts as embers, forged in Fourteen fires
A future promised in glass
The stars stand witness
The vow spoken through time
Of Darkness and Light
It had been nearly a year since the meddlings of the Master of Ships brought an ancient text to the attention of her Queen. As fate would have it, she wasn’t done with her meddling quite yet. As a wedding gift for two people that she had grown to love as family over the past moons she gifted them the tome after discussing it with Daenerys. The books belong to House Targaryen. In the end, it mattered not which one possessed it.
“Congratulations, you two. May the tides be in your favor always.” Yara declared with a smile, “I have something that you may find…educational. The page is marked when curious minds are ready to read of such things.”
When everyone was cleared from the ceremony and retired after a glorious dinner Yara and Daenerys found themselves walking alone to the Queen’s chambers arm in arm, “Do you really think it was wise to be so bold as to suggest to two women that lost nearly all of their children in a war that they fought against themselves that they create another using blood magic?”
“I think that it will complete them in a way that neither of us could imagine, my love.” Yara replied, “You think it was unwise, but you agreed to give her the book?”
“I am still torn.” Daenerys replied, “But I admit that since you suggested it, I myself, looked at the spells a few times.”
“Oh?” Yara replied in surprise, “It is something that you may one day consider for yourself?”
“I have no Heir. It is something that I should consider a great deal if I am truthful.” Daenerys replied quietly as they arrived to the Queen’s chambers, “How would you feel about such things?”
Yara was quiet for a moment as she thought about the question, but the answer was a simple one. She would do anything for her.
“I would support and assist in any way that you needed me to.” Yara assured her, “I didn’t spend an unusual amount of time studying the requirements of the ritual so I am not intimately familiar with how the text reads, but I would do anything you, my darling Queen. You need only speak it.”
“Your dedication to the crown is appreciated.” Daenerys scoffed before she began unclasping her crimson cloak before laying it across the back of a chair.
“Dany, you know that is not what I meant. You are my Queen, whether you hold love for me or not.” Yara explained, her hands settling in Daenerys’ hips to keep her from walking away, “You are first my Queen, but it changes not how I love you, Dany. Either way you look at it, I am yours, my sword is yours, my heart is yours.”
Daenerys sighed, leaning back into the strong body behind her, “Would you still feel as strongly if I did not wear the crown?”
“Don’t be daft, of course I would.” Yara scoffed before pressing a lingering kiss to silver hair.
“I could have your tongue for that.” Daenerys warned, turning in the strong arms that she wished to hold her closer.
Yara smirked as her dark eyes wandering from violet down to waiting lips, “You should take it. Right now, in fact. You can have my tongue as long and as often as you like.”
“Is that so?” Daenerys teased, “Then don’t keep your Queen waiting. It is most improper.”
The days following the wedding of Rhaenyra and Alicent found the two locked away in their shared chambers completely immersed in one another. Alicent had managed to escape the clutches of her insatiable wife only long enough for a hot bath, but Rhaenyra had other ideas as kiss swollen lips were on her once more as she gently pressed her back against the wall of the bath chamber. The stone was cool against her bare skin, a complete contrast to the warm mouth that was moving against her skin.
“Do you remember, my sweet, when you asked me to join you in Sept when we were young? You asked me to kneel beside you as you prayed to the Gods for our mothers and for whatever else your heart was seeking. Do you remember?” Rhaenyra asked against her lips, her nose nuzzling gently against her flush cheek.
“I remember.” Alicent replied with a sigh as Rhaenyra’s lips found their way to that sweet spot that she never knew existed beneath her ear until Rhaenyra found it.
“You kneeled to honor the Gods that sustained you, that gave you hope and purpose as you worshiped them. I wish to kneel in worship before the one that sustains me, the one that gives me purpose. Will you allow me to kneel before you, my love?” Rhaenyra pleaded softly, warm fingers flexing against the skin of bare hips.
Rhaenyra came out as no more than a broken plea that only fueled her as she dropped to her knees in front of Alicent and lifted a leg over her shoulder before she leaned forward to sink her tongue between wet folds. Rhaenyra had always been fire, raging hot in her hunt for whatever her heart desired. Alicent remembered what it was like feeling even a little bit of that love in their youth, but being loved by Rhaenyra now was better than any dream that she could have ever imagined on her own.
She was becoming weak on her feet as she clung to the silver hair of her love as she devoured her cunt as it would be the last time that she would ever be honored with the taste of her.
Rhaenyra, Gods, yes!
She loved her more fiercely than she had ever loved another.
Her wife.
A bright flame in darkness that showed the way to unadulterated happiness.
Rhaenyra had timidly breached the subject of the context of the book that Yara had gifted them on their wedding day the day before. It only took a short while for curiosity to get the better of her before she cracked open the book to see what Yara was cryptically going on about.
“A babe, conceived by blood magic?” Rhaenyra had read aloud before anxious violet eyes found her own.
While it had been nearly two centuries since they had lost their own children, one by one, in terribly tragic ways, the loss was still very fresh in their own minds and hearts. But, even still, the possibility of the beautiful magic that had allowed them to be reunited could also somehow allow for the two of them to conceive their child together, it made her feel like she was melting from within.
A child, with Rhaenyra.
Gods, she had so struggled with her own when they were but babes. Products of disconnected, disgusting intercourse with a husband whose greatest accomplishment was helping create the beautiful soul that was still tongue deep between her thighs.
But a child created from love, from their love. The thought of having a child from her own body that had Rhaenyra’s features or her perfect shade of violet eyes was so tempting. The more she thought about it, the more she wanted it. It was evident in exactly how much the thoughts warmed her as the heat in her belly continued to build while Rhaenyra groaned pleasingly against her. That delicious hum that reverberated through her entire being was enough to push her over the edge as she clung to Rhaenyra’s head as she rode out her pleasure. If it had not been for Rhaenyra standing in time to catch her, she may have sunk straight to the floor without warning, but as was proving to be the way between them now, Rhaenyra was there.
311 After the Conquest – Dragonstone
“Careful now! That’s close enough.” Daenerys called, as the two youngest Targaryen’s ran toward a sleeping Drogon without a single fear as he slept on the grass just outside the castle walls.
“Uh uh uh, you heard your mother, Rhaella. Do not run toward Drogon. You know better as well, Rhaegar.” Yara warned as she intercepted the two rambunctious four-year-olds.
“Yes, mother.” Rhaella replied, pouting and looking at her mother with sad violet eyes.
“Yes, Aunt Yara. We are sorry, but Drogon loves us. He likes when we visit him.” Rhaegar whined pitifully.
“Yes, well, it best you visit him with his rider present, hm?” Yara cautioned the children, “We do not need any accidents. Your mothers would not like it if they knew you were being careless.”
Rhaegar hung his head, his silver curls falling down around his face, “Yes, Aunt Yara.”
“Good boy. Now, I believe your mother was looking for you. Best walk back toward the castle to find her, alright?” Yara explained to her nephew.
There were more than a handful of generations between the Rhaenyra and Daenerys so there was no easy way to explain to their children exactly how they were all related. It was easier just to declare them cousins until they were much older, and the entirety of the truth could be revealed to them.
Nearly five years ago, Alicent and Rhaenyra as well as Daenerys and Yara had completed the blood magic ritual that allowed them to conceive their children. Once Alicent had read through the text that Yara had gifted them could think of little else than having a child with Rhaenyra. For the first time, she was deciding who would sire a child on her. In truth, if this knowledge had been available all those years ago she likely would have found a way to convince Rhaenyra of such things then. She had always loved her children, far better than Alicent ever learned how to.
But now, the little boy who was so full of love for his mothers, life, and his aunt’s dragons had taught her what it was like to love a child unconditionally. Hearing his shrill screams of delight that filled the halls of Dragonstone often as Rhaenyra gave chase to him before she scooped him up in her arms and pressed a kiss to his silver curls made Alicent’s heart swell with love.
Daenerys and Yara visited often, bringing with them the Heir to the Seven Kingdoms, Princess Rhaella Targaryen. She was the spitting image of Daenerys and had the iron will of Yara. One day, she would rule well. And by her side would be her cousin, her best friend in the entire world if the way that she pulled him around everywhere by the hand was any indication of the future of their relationship. Their mothers were determined to let them come to their own conclusions, but they all had a pretty clear idea of what was to come.
Their days on Dragonstone were happy. On occasion they ventured from the island to visit Daenerys and Yara in King’s Landing or flew on Rhaegal if they needed some time away. Flying was one of Rhaegar’s favorite things to do with Rhaenyra, much to the detriment of Alicent’s fingernails. She felt like she should be used to the idea of her children being obsessive about dragons, but it seemed that she never really would be. While Rhaenyra bonded with their son in the sky, Alicent shared her own special moments with their boy.
“Mother?” Rhaegar called as he entered his mothers’ chambers with his Septa in tow.
Alicent emerged from the bath chamber at the sound of his voice, “Yes, my love?”
“May we read together tonight?” Rhaegar asked her hopefully, holding a small book for his mother to see.
Alicent smiled, “Of course, my love. Come sit with me and we will begin now.”
That was how Rhaenyra often found them, cuddled together on the settee as Alicent held him against her, running her fingers through his silver curls as she read. She never interrupted their time, always choosing to sit quietly as she watched them adoringly. At times her mind would drift back to when she and Alicent sat together beneath the red canopy of leaves of the Weirwood tree so long ago.
As happy as they were together then, it paled in comparison to watching her wife hold their son as she read to him about a fleet of ten thousand ships led by their Queen.
On occasion, the two Dragon Queens would leave the world behind and fly on Drogon and Rhaegal together, just the two of them. Being in the sky together provided Daenerys with what she had longed for all along, a sense of family and unity. A bond understood by someone that no other could ever begin to understand.
It had been just after the birth of their son that Rhaenyra broke down in tears, crying in thanks to the Gods, and Daenerys, and her meddlesome wife for choosing her to rejoin the world of the living. The warmth in Alicent’s eyes when she held him for the first time was burned into her memory and would live in her heart forever.
House Targaryen once again had a bright future forged in sacred blood and dragon flame.
Bolstered by love and devotion and second chances.
Daenerys smiled at her wife as they watched Rhaella run around the courtyard holding a wooden dragon as high to the sky as her little arm would reach the silver locks of her hair flowing behind her.
“She has your spirit.” Yara whispered, her eyes finding the always expressive violet that met her gaze, “She will make a strong Queen one day.”
“Of course she will be, but let’s not pretend that child doesn’t possess your stubbornness.” Daenerys teased playfully.
“You love me for it.” Yara replied, “You can not lie to me, darling.”
“I do. Without you and your stubbornness we would not have her at all. Without you, Rhaenyra and Alicent wouldn’t be living as they always should have. Without you, the future of our Kingdom would still be left to chance. I adore you and your stubbornness quite a lot.” Daenerys replied honestly, her hand finding Yara’s at her side, “Thank you for loving me. Without your love, so much would have turned out so much different for us all. No one could ever hold a candle to you.”
And so it was, that so many lives were changed in an echo through time all because of the meddlings of the Master of Ships.
FIN