House Of The Dragons

In the midst of war. As the sky now belonged to the dragons. As the realm had already taken almost everything they had… There was still one final story the maesters never told.

Morning had come. Rhaenyra slowly opened her eyes. For a few seconds, she remained still. Then her hand reached for the other side of the bed. This time, he was there. Daemon. Awake. Lying beside her. He had kept his word. He had not left before she woke.

Rhaenyra watched him in silence.

“You’re not sleeping.”

“No.”

“Have you been awake long?”

“Long enough.”

She knew why. Vhagar had been sighted. Aemond was advancing. And soon, they would have to take to the skies again.

Rhaenyra moved closer to him.

“You could have left without waking me.”

Daemon turned his eyes toward her.

“I promised you I wouldn’t.”

A faint smile touched her lips. Then disappeared.

“Do you think we’ll come back?”

Daemon remained silent.

Rhaenyra rolled her eyes.

“For once, you could at least lie convincingly.”

A smile crossed his lips. He placed a hand behind her neck and gently drew her toward him. Their foreheads touched.

“We’ll come back.”

She looked at him. She knew he was lying. He knew that she knew. But for a few more seconds, they chose to believe it.

Caraxes was waiting. So was Syrax.

The wind tore across the heights of Dragonstone. Rhaenyra approached her dragon. Then stopped. Daemon was already beside Caraxes.

She called to him.

“Daemon.”

He turned.

She walked toward him. Not a single guard moved. Not one man dared interrupt his Queen.

Rhaenyra took Daemon’s face between her hands and kissed him. Briefly. Then she stepped back.

“Don’t die.”

Daemon gave her that smile she had known for almost her entire life.

“An order from my Queen?”

Rhaenyra shook her head.

“A request from your wife.”

His smile faded. He placed his hand over hers.

“Then I’ll do my best.”

They parted.

Caraxes spread his wings. Syrax followed. And for the last time, the Prince and the Queen took to the skies together.

They saw Vhagar before they saw the army. Immense. Almost unreal among the clouds. Aemond sat upon her back. Daemon did not need to look at Rhaenyra to know what she was thinking. There would be no retreat this time.

Caraxes roared. Vhagar answered.

And the sky burned.

Caraxes dove toward her. Daemon forced Aemond to turn. Vhagar opened her jaws. Caraxes narrowly escaped them. Then Syrax swept above them. Rhaenyra.

For a few moments, they fought as they had lived. Together. Daemon instinctively knew where she would be. Rhaenyra knew where he would strike. Fire tore through the clouds. The dragons screamed.

Then the enemy forces appeared below. Rhaenyra saw them. And with them... Another dragon.

Sunfyre.

Aegon.

Rhaenyra turned Syrax away. Daemon saw her go. He wanted to follow. But Vhagar came at Caraxes again. Aemond had understood. He wanted to separate them.

Daemon cursed and forced Caraxes to evade her. When he searched the sky for Syrax again, she had disappeared behind the smoke.

Rhaenyra was fighting below. Syrax circled Sunfyre. The two dragons breathed fire above the fleeing men. Rhaenyra urged Syrax higher.

Too late.

Sunfyre struck. Syrax screamed. Rhaenyra felt the world tilt beneath her. The ground rushed closer.

Then nothing.

When she opened her eyes again, she was on the ground. She could barely breathe. Everything around her was burning. She tried to rise. Pain tore through her body.

Then a shadow passed over her.

Rhaenyra looked up.

Sunfyre.

And Aegon.

She understood.

High above, Daemon heard a scream. Not human. A dragon.

Syrax.

His blood turned cold. He wheeled Caraxes around. His eyes searched frantically through the smoke.

Then he saw her.

Rhaenyra. On the ground. Sunfyre before her.

Daemon stopped breathing.

“No.”

Caraxes dove.

Vhagar blocked his path. Daemon pulled violently on the reins.

“NO!”

Caraxes roared. Daemon tried to get past her. Again. Vhagar attacked. He dodged.

When he looked toward the ground again, Aegon was staring at Rhaenyra. Daemon understood what he was about to do.

“RHAENYRA!”

His cry vanished into the sky.

On the ground, Rhaenyra heard something. Far away. Through the roaring. Through the flames. His voice.

She looked up.

Caraxes.

And upon his back, Daemon.

He was trying to reach her. Vhagar would not let him.

For a single second, their eyes seemed to find each other despite the distance.

Rhaenyra no longer saw the war. She saw a terrace overlooking the sea. A cup between her fingers.

And what if I enjoy deciding for you?

She saw Caraxes above the waves. Daemon’s hand upon her thigh.

Tonight, I need my wife.

She saw a fire. His face.

I belong to you because I chose you.

Then their final night. His arms around her.

We’ll come back.

Rhaenyra almost smiled.

Liar.

Aegon spoke a single word.

“Dracarys.”

Daemon screamed her name.

And the flames consumed Rhaenyra.

Daemon saw the fire. Then he saw nothing else. Not the army. Not Aegon. Not Aemond. Not even Vhagar. Only the flames. The place where his wife had stood only a second before.

Something inside him broke.

“Rhaenyra…”

Caraxes let out a roar so violent it seemed to tear across the entire battlefield. The dragon understood.

Daemon closed his eyes. For one second.

When he opened them again, the Prince was gone.

There was nothing left to protect. No crown left to defend. No Queen to return to. No wife waiting for him.

Only Aemond. And Vhagar.

Daemon raised his eyes toward them. Aemond turned Vhagar around. Caraxes growled. Daemon ran a hand across his dragon’s red scales.

“One last time.”

Caraxes surged forward.

This time, Daemon was no longer trying to survive.

Vhagar breathed fire. Caraxes flew through the flames. The two dragons collided. Their claws tore into each other’s flesh. Caraxes sank his teeth into Vhagar. The old dragon screamed.

They began to fall.

Aemond tried to regain control. Daemon let go of the reins. He unfastened the straps holding him to Caraxes. The wind struck his face. Below him, the earth rushed closer.

He stood.

Dark Sister in his hand.

Aemond understood.

Too late.

Daemon looked at the sky one last time. And strangely, he smiled.

He had spent weeks waiting for Rhaenyra to come back to him.

This time...

she was the one waiting for him.

Daemon jumped.

Dark Sister pierced Aemond. Vhagar screamed. Caraxes tightened his jaws. Then dragons, princes, and steel vanished into their fall.

The sky fell silent.

The realm had gotten what it wanted. A crown. It had only needed to devour almost everyone who had ever desired it.

Rhaenyra Targaryen was dead. Daemon Targaryen was dead. Syrax. Caraxes. Vhagar.

All that fire. All that blood. For a throne made of swords.

The maesters would write of their war. They would write of their mistakes. Their battles. Their deaths. They would write of the Queen. They would write of the Prince. But they would never write of the woman behind the crown. Nor of the man who, until his final breath, had chosen to return to her.

The maesters write of wars, coronations, and deaths. But some stories never found their way into their books.