129 AC
The Ninth Day Of The Ninth Moon
Near the Honeywine River
Jaehaerys Pov
The moonlight filtered through the command tent where the remaining nobles and their knights stood in their armor, the air thick with anticipation. Beside me stood Alyssa, clad in a special armor coated in silver, her hair tied in a braid reminiscent of the portraits of Queen Visenya. I wore my bronze armor, with Lady Forlorn sheathed at my side.
"The army of Riverlanders will arrive on the morrow," one of the scouts reported. The lords and knights bristled at the news, the reality of facing an army four times our size, with a dragon at its helm, sinking in.
Nervous chatter broke out until I called for order, and everyone turned their full attention to me.
"The area near the Honeywine River is flat. We do not have the high ground, but neither do they," I began.
"The battle plan is simple. I will face my uncle and his dragon, while you brace for the impact of the approaching Riverlander men. My sister will lie in wait," I said, glancing at Alyssa, who did not seem pleased about being told she couldn't fight alongside me on dragonback.
"While Daemon is occupied with me and the Riverlanders are breathing down your necks, Alyssa will attack from the rear and tear them apart," I continued.
"The Riverlanders will not know what hit them. By then, Daemon and I will likely be done with each other," I said, feeling Alyssa's hand tighten in frustration around mine.
"What of parley?" Alyssa spoke up, as others snickered at her question.
"Princess, do you really believe the rogue prince will wish to parley?" Lord Unwin asked, his tone wary.
Alyssa held her ground. "He will not wish to parley, but the Riverlords will. They know that the only reason they are still in this damned conflict is because of the rogue prince. If something were to happen to him, all would be lost for their cause," she said, looking directly at me.
"Very well. We will ask for parley. Though I know it will amount to nothing, it is still worth a try," I conceded.
"That is all for now. Rest well, for the battle that will end this godforsaken war is upon us," I said. Everyone bowed as I left the command tent, determination burning in their eyes.
I walked up to my horse and rode it to where Vermithor lay.
"The Bronze Fury," I whispered to myself, marveling at the beast before me. Vermithor, the mount of my namesake and the second largest living dragon. His bronze scales glistened in the moonlight, giving him an almost ethereal glow. Normally terrifying, the steel plates I had ordered for him made him even more formidable. His neck and underbelly, once vulnerable, were now covered, fortifying his weak points.
Vermithor opened his eyes as I approached, dismounting my horse. As I neared his enormous form, I gently patted him, and he snorted, a gust of warm air ruffling my hair.
I examined his body, tracing the scars he had accumulated since the Dance of Dragons began. Each mark told a story of battles fought and endured.
"Vermithor," I said in High Valyrian, "Issa jorrāelagon," I said, meaning "My love."
"I apologize for what I have put you through," I continued, my voice thick with emotion. "I have treated you like a weapon of war and not like my companion. I am not deserving of you."
"You have fought and bled for my sake, and for that, I am forever indebted to you," I said, my eyes meeting his, knowing he listened to every word.
"You are a good boy," I said, patting his massive head. "And you will be free from all this senseless violence once I am done with Daemon."
"Please help me defeat my uncle, and then you are free of me," I pleaded. "When the last dance finally takes place between you and Caraxes, I will make sure you survive because you deserve all my love," I vowed.
"So please, for one last time, be by my side," I whispered, closing my eyes and resting my forehead on his snout.
Vermithor let out a short huff, and I smiled, feeling the bond between us stronger than ever.
I rode back to my tent where seven knights wearing the colors of House Hightower stood guard. Their silent vigilance added to the gravity of the night. I walked inside and found Alyssa waiting for me. She was not wearing her armor; instead, she was in her nightclothes, her silver hair no longer in a braid but flowing freely around her shoulders.
I began removing my armor, and she came to help me, her fingers deftly unfastening the straps and clasps. As the last piece was set aside, I looked at her.
"I am scared, Jaehaerys," she said, her eyes beginning to water.
"I am right here, Alyssa," I reassured her. She kissed me, and we fell onto the bed. Her curves pressed against me, and I realized she wore nothing beneath her nightclothes.
"I want you, Jaehaerys," she whispered, her voice laced with desire.
"Alyssa," I murmured as I felt her hand slide down to my manhood. "Take me," she commanded, as I removed her nightclothes. Our bodies intertwined, and soon we were lost in each other, our moans filling the room.
Her skin was soft and warm against mine, every touch igniting a fire between us. I felt her nails dig into my back as she pulled me closer, her breath hot against my ear. I moved against her, each movement drawing us deeper into a shared rhythm of passion and need.
Alyssa's hands roamed over my body, her touch both tender and urgent. I kissed her neck, her collarbone, savoring the taste of her skin. She arched her back, pressing herself against me, her gasps and moans growing louder.
"Jaehaerys," she moaned, her voice a mix of pleasure and longing. "Don't stop."
I met her eyes, seeing the raw emotion and desire there. We moved together, our bodies speaking a language of their own. The world outside ceased to exist as we found solace and strength in each other.
As our climax approached, the intensity of our movements increased. We reached the peak together, our cries mingling as one. In the aftermath, we lay entwined, our breaths heavy and hearts pounding.
"I love you, Alyssa," I whispered, brushing a strand of hair from her face.
"And I love you, Jaehaerys," she replied, her voice soft but filled with conviction.
We lay there, wrapped in each other's embrace, finding comfort and peace in our shared love, ready to face whatever the morrow would bring.
---
Alyssanne Pov
I steadied myself on Silverwing as I waited for the battle to start.
"Silverwing, sōves," I commanded, and she soared into the sky. The parley had been a failure; all Daemon did was send the messenger's head back.
From atop Silverwing, I observed the battlefield below. The Reachmen's army stood steady as the Riverlanders charged, arrows raining down from both sides. A terrible roar shook the ground as Jaehaerys, atop Vermithor, attacked Daemon on Caraxes.
"You will wait till the last moment to attack, my love, because he will not be expecting you," Jaehaerys had told me before he left. Memories of last night and every night before flooded my mind—my brother, the love of my life. I could not let him die.
The Blood Wyrm and the Bronze Fury clashed in a ferocious dance. Caraxes, swifter than Vermithor, tried to outmaneuver him, but the armor Jaehaerys had crafted for Vermithor gave him a crucial edge. They clawed and bit at each other, thousands of meters above the ground. From my vantage point, I saw Jaehaerys and Daemon locked in a deadly struggle.
Caraxes gained some distance and unleashed a torrent of flame at Vermithor's wings. Vermithor struggled, but I seized the opportunity to dive into the fray. Silverwing and I approached from above, blasting Caraxes with fire from behind. Silverwing's flames scorched the red dragon, driving Caraxes toward Vermithor, who locked onto Caraxes's neck with a powerful bite.
The two dragons bit and tore at each other with savage ferocity. Suddenly, the unexpected happened—Daemon leaped from his saddle, Dark Sister in hand. My heart raced as I watched in shock. Jaehaerys, seeing the move, unstrapped himself from Vermithor and met Daemon in mid-air.
They clashed in a deadly embrace, swords swinging wildly. Daemon thrust his blade at Jaehaerys's head, but Jaehaerys dodged and, in a wild counterattack, swung his sword and decapitated Daemon.
"Jaehaerys!" I screamed, guiding Silverwing into a steep dive. My heart pounded as I watched him fall, giving me one last look and a smile before closing his eyes and plummeting into the Honeywine River. Vermithor, enraged, tore into Caraxes, ripping the red dragon apart.
"Nooooo!" I shrieked in horror, my brother lost to the depths below.
"JAEHAERYS!" I screamed until strong hands pulled me close. My eyes flew open, and I found myself in Jaehaerys's arms. His eyes gazed into mine, filled with concern.
"It was a nightmare," I thought, tears streaming down my face as I clung to Jaehaerys, not wanting to let go.
-----
Jaehaerys Pov
"King Daemon accepts the invitation to the parley but he has put certain conditions forward," the messenger from the Riverlands announced.
I saw Unwin ready to explode, so I raised my hand to calm him.
"What are his conditions?" I asked.
"Only seven men from each side will come to the parley, and he expects to see his daughter," the messenger replied.
"Very well, go and tell my uncle that I accept his conditions for the parley," I said.
As the messenger left, the lords started arguing about who was to accompany me for the parley, acting like children.
"Enough!" I thundered.
"Lord Ormund Hightower and Lord Unwin Peake will accompany me alongside their knights. The rest will stay here," I declared.
Unwin immediately perked up, while Ormund questioned my decision.
"Prince Jaehaerys, why do you wish to treat with the rogue prince?" he asked.
"I wish to see him one last time before we lock swords and dragons against each other, and so that Rhaena gets to see her father," I explained.
"My prince, you surely will not give back the wastrel his daughter," Lord Unwin spoke up.
"It does not matter if he gets his daughter back for today, for he is a dead man walking," I said, and the lords quieted down.
As the lords left the command tent, I stood quietly, memories of the morning flooding back. Alyssa had been nearly inconsolable since she woke up, refusing to speak until she finally fell silent and went toward her dragon.
But now was not the time to dwell on that; I was going to meet the last thorn in my family's side and eventually pluck him out.
I walked toward the tent where Rhaena was. As I approached, I saw her sitting, looking downcast.
"Rhaena, get ready. You are going to meet your father," I said. She looked at me with hopelessness in her eyes.
"What is the point?" she said. "You are going to kill him anyway," she added, her eyes boring into mine.
"Because you deserve to see him, and he deserves to see what he is about to lose," I replied softly. "But know this, Rhaena—whatever happens today, you are under my protection. You have a future beyond this conflict."
She looked at me, a flicker of hope mingled with her despair.
"Now, prepare yourself. We leave soon," I said, turning to leave the tent, steeling myself for the confrontation to come.
The air was thick with tension as the seven riders from the Riverlands approached. The tranquil sound of the river flowing contrasted sharply with the anticipation of the impending battle. The armies on both sides stood ready, their eyes fixed on the center of the field where Daemon and I would meet.
As the riders dismounted, I recognized Ser Elmo Tully among them. Daemon Targaryen, clad in black armor with a dragon emblazoned on the chest, led the group. Dark Sister rested menacingly in his hand, and a crown adorned his head. The sight of him stirred something deep within me—a mix of rage, hatred, and determination.
Beside me, Rhaena's sobs broke the silence. She saw her father and tears welled up in her eyes. Daemon's face softened momentarily as he smiled at his daughter. I let her go, and she rushed into his arms. He hugged her tightly, then turned to me, his expression darkening once more.
"When I had come back from the War for the Stepstones I always thought you were a simpleton, rarely opening his mouth," he sneered.
"Your wife, my sister, thought the same. Look at what happened to her," I replied, my voice icy.
"Did she suffer?" he asked, barely containing his fury.
"For a few moments, she did," I said, meeting his gaze unflinchingly.
"She begged for me to stop as I cleaved your eldest son Aegon in two, while I buried Lady Forlorn into your younger son's head. Rhaenyra kept crying out," I continued, savoring the pain in his eyes, "until I buried my sword into her and gave her a semblance of peace." The lords and knights on my side erupted in laughter, while those on Daemon's side seethed with anger.
"And your eldest daughter was burned to death by my brother's dragon," I added, twisting the knife further.
"They say she screamed like a bitch," Unwin chimed in, laughing cruelly.
Daemon's eyes locked onto mine, his voice a low growl. "I will kill you and your brothers. After that, I will make my men fuck your mother and sisters until they die. And in the end, I will burn down Oldtown."
"My brothers will not be joining us if that is what you are afraid of," I said, dismissing his threats.
"Were I not alone, you would not come", I said.
"Yet you are here, and so am I," he said, his voice dripping with menace.
"You have lived for far too long, nephew," he spat with derision.
"On that much, we agree, uncle," I replied, our eyes locked in a battle of wills. I turned my back on him and mounted my horse, ready to leave this cursed parley.
As I rode away, a thunderous roar shattered the tense silence. I looked up to see Silverwing descending from the sky, Alyssa on her back. For a moment, the world stood still. Every eye was on the approaching dragon, paralyzed by the spectacle.
"Dracarys!" Alyssa's voice rang out, commanding Silverwing to unleash her fury. Flames erupted, engulfing Daemon, Rhaena, and their entourage in a hellish inferno.
Time seemed to slow as the fire consumed them. Daemon's scream of rage and pain echoed through the battlefield. Rhaena's cries of despair were cut short, her final moments a tragic blur of smoke and fire. The Riverlords who accompanied them were incinerated, their bodies turning to ash in an instant.