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genz420 · 7 months

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The Fire That Burns With Us - Chapter 96: The Dance of Dragons.

Master List

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138 - Harrenhal

The news had not yet reached Harrenhal.

The news that the Reds had taken the capital.

That his innocent sister Helaena had thrown herself out her window in her grief.

That the mighty dragon that is Morghon had been killed by Vermithor and the dragonseed Hugh Hammer.

That the Blackwood knight had disappeared after the revelation of the death of Queen Helaena.

That the all dragons in the dragonpit and the young prince Maelor had been killed.

Or of what Aegon had done on Dragonstone.

Aemond had yet to know that the Velaryon fleet led by Corlys and Laenor was searching Blackwater Bay for any sign of Visenya. But the mangled pieces of Silverwing, Vermithor, and Morghon had been littered on the water's surface.

Aemond had returned to Harrenhal after receiving a letter from their forces that the rogue prince and the blood wyvern were approaching. He was accompanied by a dragonseed Nettles and her dragon Sheepstealer, who seemed to be flying towards the Vale.

The one-eyed prince would not allow his uncle to seize Harrenhal while they took the capital away from the greens. Aemond was fully ready to embrace his name as Kinslayer. To end the life of the mighty prince Daemon and his deformed dragon.

He plans to remove Dark Sister from Daemon's soon-to-be-burned corpse and give it to Visenya, for she should wield the sword while he takes Blackfyre and the conqueror's crown. A fantasy that the prince holds onto like a fool.

Aemond hadn’t missed Harrenhal. The only thing bringing him back was the thought that Daemon would try to have his children harmed and that he could end the Rogue's life. But deep feelings in his stomach warned him that death would come, maybe not for him.

The cold and bitter weather of the Riverlands was like a warning that he chose to ignore. As the mighty prince dismounts his dragon, the feeling of impending death does not leave him. That feeling only rises in his chest as he watches Daemon dismount Caraxes.

The two dragons had both lived a long and eventful life. Bringing greatness to House Targaryen and being blessed with some of the best riders the house has ever seen. Vhagar is a seasoned war criminal who helped shape House Targaryen from a minor Valyrian house to one of the strongest Houses Westorest has ever seen. Caraxes has bonded with Aemon and Daemon, fighting in the step stones and the Fourth Dourinsh War. But most importantly, the two dragons have bonded throughout the years, flying together with Alyssa, Baelon, and Aemon and then Daemon and Laena. But not the bond and feelings the Dragons had once shared are erased with the hate their current riders feel for one another.

The older of the two was wearing his dragon armour, Dark Sister at his hip. Daemon, too, was in the dark about the events happening in the East. Caraxes lets out a whistling whine of disconnect as Daemon leaves his side. Unlike his rider, Caraxes knew what was to come.

The two self-proclaimed Prince Constorts did not waste any more time; the air was thick and foggy as the two left the safety of their dragon's side and met each other in the middle. Both knew the fight would not start on land but in the air, another beautiful but tragic dance between dragons. Unlike Daemon, Aemond was not clad head to toe in armour, the simple chestplate that Rob had gifted him.

As the two reach each other, the tension rises with each moment they watch each other. Not long ago, each one of them held respect for one another and almost cared about the other. Perhaps they would have been closer if things were different, if the Greens had never schemed for the throne, and Daemon had never left for Pentos. For Aemond is Viserys son, yet he took after Daemon more than his own father.

“You were a fool to come alone,” Aemond is the first to break the tension, his voice deep, commanding yet soft as velvet. His tone is that of a man who knows the weight of his words but, yet Daemon can not help but think he sounds like a boy trying to command authority and power.

Aemonds grip is like a viper on the hilt of his sword. He was weighing the choice of drawing his sword and trying to end his uncle where they stood, but he did not have a valyrian steel sword like Daemon. He wasn’t wearing armour to protect himself. But surely he could be fast enough to draw his sword and drive it through Daemon. He has the advantage of youth and possibly more rage. Yet his body remains unmoving, and he almost looks like a beautifully carved statue as he glares at Daemon. The eyepatch burning against his skin, the sapphire underneath forever cold, like it held the souls of those claimed in this war, for that fateful night on Driftmark was the reason this war had advanced so fast.

Daemon shifts his weight onto one of his feet, his hands resting on the hilt of Dark Sister. His hand wrapping itself around the pommel, he has killed hundreds of men with the sword and no doubt the next victim would be the boy in front of him. A son for a son was not enough; he should avenge Lucerys by spilling the blood of his murderer.

“Were I not alone, you would not have come,” Daemon retorts, far more relaxed than the younger Targaryen. His shoulders were not tensed like Aemond's, and he could be mistaken for having a civil conversation with his nephew if it wasn’t for the matching grips on their sword.

Daemon knew that he could unsheathe Dark Sister now, drive it through the younger's stomach, and be done with it. Vhagar might burn him to death, but Ceraxes would be safe. Ceraxes would be available for his sweet Rhaena to claim.

Aemond would have come even if Daemon was not by himself, and he knows that Daemon would have never tried to approach Harrenhal again if Visenya had not gone to King’s Landing. A father is scared of his own daughter and what punishments he might face for daring to enter the Riverlands again.

Aemond brings his lips together in a tight line. Perhaps Daemon was right, but what could he have brought to make him waver in this fight? The dragonseed he had formed a relationship with? The Black Queen on his spoiled dragon? Daemon had no more allies that would make Aemond nervous about killing. No, he was the one with the allies. He could have stayed in King’s Landing, told Visenya about his plan, and asked her to occupy him. Brought Morghon and the Cannibal with them. But he refuses to make his wife a kinslayer like himself.

Both of them knew that going against one another was the only way they had a chance of killing each other.

“Yet you are, and I am,” Aemond tells Daemon, grip leaving the hilt of his sword as his arms apart and almost daring Daemon to unsheathe Dark Sister to kill him. Aemond doesn’t allow his feelings to affect his voice, the slight nerves he feels for the battle to come. Instead, he relaxes his shoulders to mirror Daemon and lets out a soft hum as a smirk creeps onto his face. “You have lived too long, uncle,”

Daemon puffs his chest out, eyes narrowing at Aemond as he speaks before slowly nodding, agreeing with him about the statement. Daemon has lived out many people dear to him. His mother, father, brother, grandmother, Aemna, Laena, his Strong Boys, and now his two daughters sired by Rhaenyra.

Daemon had lived on borrowed time since he fought in the step stones.

“On that much, we agree,” Daemon tells Aemond, giving him one final nod before turning his back towards Aemond, not fearing that Aemond might stab him. Aemond spares his uncle one last look before he does the same.

Both princes return to their dragons, praying to their gods for safety.

Daemon prays that he will be able to return to Dragonstone to give his wife the good news of Aemond's death. To see his daughters, all of them, once again. To be able to watch his sons grow. To bring justice to his son's death, to give justice to Lucerys.

Aemond prays to also return to his wife to give her the news of the death of Daemon and Caraxes. To remove the last power of the blacks. To be able to watch his children grow up in the red keep. To see his wife on the iron throne. To send his brother to the wall and allow his sweet sister to finally be happy and safe. To wear the conquered crown. To mend the realm and prove himself worthy of the name Targaryen.

But neither would have their prey answered. It is as if the gods had finally punished them for the peace and happiness they had lived in and punished them for their sins.

Because neither could return to their wives, the two Queens are now dead.

Rhaenyra burned by her usurper brother and his half-dying dragon. Aegon, the younger, forced to watch as his mother became ash and dragonfood. Only leaving a few charred pieces of her left.

Visenya having a dragonriders death. Killing the dragonseeds, Hugh Hammer, Ulf the white, and the two dragons Vermithor and Silverwing. But also, in the process, ending her own life, along with one of her dragons, Morghon. Both of their remains sinking to the bottom of Blackwater Bay, allowing Visenya to rest in the same waters as the rest of the Valeryons, just as she wanted. The cannibal flew East after circling the bay for two straight days.

Neither of them would see their children again. To watch their sons and daughters grow.

Aegon, the younger, now traumatized after witnessing his mother's death. Viserys is thought dead now in the lands of Lys. Baela is scarred from her battle with Aegon. Rhaena is safe and with her new hatchling.

Laenor, Daenys, and Aenar are being held within the ruins of Harrnehal, which is within his eyesight. If only Aemond had shared the gift of foresight, he might have climbed on his dragon, flown to Harrenhal, and brought his children to the now-claimed King’s Landing.

On that day, the 22nd day of the 5th moon of 138 AC. Aemond and Daemon, along with Vhagar and Caraxes, lost their lives. The two sets fall into the god's eye once Daemon leaped from Caraxes and plunged Dark Sister in Aemond’s one good eye.

The battle above the god's eyes would be the last battle of the Dance of Dragons. The Blacks dissolved quickly into the Reds. The Greens followed suit after the death of Aegon, the usurper on Dragonstone. The red held the capital but without a queen, leaving the succession of the Spiky Chair up for debate to the three small councils.

Once the arrival of the winter wolves and the Black Aly arrived in the shambles of King’s Landing, they made quick work of breaking the betrothal with Daenys and Rickon and instead betrothing Daenys with Aegon the Younger and Laenor to their daughter, Sarra.

Daenys becomes the “first” legitimate queen of the Seven Kingdoms with her consort Aegon II. A marriage that was closer to a friendship rather than a marriage. Yet both still did their duties to the realm.

Robert Tully denied the position of Daenys hand, instead returning to Riverrun to see his wife give birth to a daughter. She was quickly betrothed to Aenar, who later became lord of Riverrun, with his wife, Catelyn Tully, taking most of the title's responsibilities—a match made by the gods.

Benjicot took the role of the hand of the queen instead, along with taking on the responsibilities of raising the three children, not allowing anyone to hold or be near them for close to three years after the war, fearing that something might happen to the last connection he had to Visenya and Aemond. The Blackwood knight also protected the little Princess Jaehaera until she married Bloody Ben in secret one faithful day, becoming the lady of Raventree Hall.

The dance of the dragons was the true downfall of the house, Targeryn, for even years after the war in peaceful times. No house looked at the house the same; the death of the dragons allowed the once perfect marble of the house to crack and slowly, through the years, fall apart.

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Last chapter. I loved writing this story in the beginning as it was just a little daydream that my friend told me to write. I never thought that it would get this far, ever. I know that this story is cheesy, badly written, and probably full of plot holes I don't see. But I am dyslexic, and I never thought people would read this. Thank you all who have commented and read this far along. Truly the comments are the only reason why I didn't just give up on this story and delete it; they mean more to me than you could know.

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@tempt-ress @kassies-take

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