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"You did good, Laenor, but try to move more to the left," Aenar instructed him, with Ser Elric and Ser Criston standing nearby, watching in amusement as the Prince showed his skills in front of the whole army that had sailed with them in Dragonstone; half of the Gold Cloaks were still in King's Landing for reasons their prince was unwilling to explain, but neither guard thought much of it.
"Ser Elric, I don't think I have ever asked: how did you become his grace's personal guard?" Ser Criston inquired, still looking at the fighting. The army had gathered to watch their Prince fight.
Usually, Prince Daemon took care of this; after all, he was their Commander, and many of them were loyal to him, but the Prince had decided that it was about time for his son to start getting a taste of ordering troops into war.
Their Prince thought they would not listen to his orders unless they knew he was a capable fighter, and for this reason, he had gathered the army and started showing what he could do with a sword in his hand; many of the Gold Cloaks thought of Prince Aenar as a Dragonrider, but not a good warrior and this was a good opportunity for him to show everyone that once he had a sword in his hand, he could show his worth wasn't only in his ability to ride a Dragon.
"No, you did not, Ser Criston." Ser Elric Stark mumbled as Aenar beat a Gold Cloak before looking at the others and waiting for someone else to face him.
"I rode from Winterfell to King's Landing three years ago. I am the youngest son. My brother will inherit Karhold. My uncle always told my father that we would have our own place. But in the end. Benjen will inherit a keep near the wall. Brandon says he wants to become a Master at Arms in Winterfell. Winterfell has been my brother's home for most of his life, and he has no desire to leave. My uncle has agreed to make him a Master at Arms after five years. And me.." Elric pointed a mocking finger at himself, chuckling as if he was mocking himself, much to Ser Criston's confusion.
"Couldn't Lord Stark build a keep for you?" Ser Criston inquired, feeling he shouldn't have bothered. He didn't know Elric that well, and what Lord Stark does with his land and coin is for him to decide.
"Criston, we might have half of Westeros. The North is huge but empty, it's like a desert, but one where you freeze your nuts off, and the only oasis in the North are places near the lakes and rivers. Most of our land is nothing but mountains where is too cold, and the land there is not good enough to grow food, to pasture, and to build villages, towns, and castles, and people are not fond of building their homes where many shadowcats, and wolves can tear your throat in your sleep." As Elric explained, Criston shuddered at the thought.
"What do you know of Shadowcats?"
"Only the basics. Should stay the hell away from them." Criston replied, and Ser Elric chuckled in amusement; soon, a look of longing appeared on his face.
"The North, I never felt at home there. So I rode South for a tourney without my father's permission. I arrived in King's Landing, and apparently, my show of strength impressed my cousin, and he decided that I should be his second Sword Shield alongside Ser Ryam motherfucking Redwyne." Criston wasn't sure if he should laugh or be mortified that Ser Elric talked like that to the Lord Commander of the Kingsguards.
"On my first week, he was this close to kicking me out. The old man once asked me why I was late for a metting and I told him straight to his face. 'I was busy shitting, I even took samples, do you want some?'" Once he said that, Criston burst into laughter, and Ser Elric laughed with him, but his smile faded away.
"The Old Man punished me, he might look harmless, and kind with that white beard around his face, and the way he talks with Prince Aenar. But under that kindness, is a monster. After I pulled that stunt, he had me stay as guard for fifteen hours every day for a whole month, and had someone wake me up so I would only sleep five hours every day. He wasn't a big fan of me in the beginning, and I'm sure that even now he is praying for my downfall." Ser Elric said humorously, and Ser Criston chuckled, shaking his head; he could already imagine something like that happening.
The two watched as Prince Aenar fought against Ser Leanor and a gold cloak. Ser Criston found it hard to believe Prince Aenar's talent with a sword. He always knew he was special; they were Targaryens, after all, but his Prince was special. Since he knew anything at all, everyone always talked about the Targaryens, how they were able to fly their dragons, some even called them 'Gods Amongst Men'
But Ser Criston was never one to believe in such things; he knew they were special, but he never thought of them as 'Gods.' But ever since Prince Aenar took him as Personal Guard. Ser Criston was beginning to think that he was special, just from the way he walked, talked, and the way he fought with his sword. If Criston hadn't known any better, he would have assumed that Prince Aenar had seen war before. Criston had the fortune, or misfortune, to have seen war. They all cried and screamed, pleading for their mother.
Ser Criston had seen war and knew how to detect those who had seen war, too. They had that 'Wild' look in them. All of them. He knew that look when he saw it in someone, so why did Prince Aenar have that look? But his look was different; he seemed like someone who had fought not just one but endless wars, someone who had seen war more than all of them. Ser Criston could not understand how that could be possible, and for this reason, he truly believed that there was something...Special about Prince Aenar. All Targaryens were, but this Prince before him was different.
Ser Criston still remembered his words to him the day he made the deal with Miche about the King's Landing supplies; he gave him the choice to stand back if he didn't feel comfortable with what his plan was for the future. Ser Criston would lie if he said that he liked his plan, but he believed that Prince Aenar could see a bigger picture—a picture that he had yet to see for himself. For this reason, he was here right now.
Ser Criston escaped his reverie when he felt Ser Elric nudging his shoulders. He turned to look at him, and Elric looked at him strangely.
"What?"
"What! Where were you?" Ser Elric asked humorously, with another nudge on his shoulder, before a grin grew on his face. "Were you thinking about a girl? Who is she?"
"No. That's not what I was thinking." Ser Criston quickly defended himself.
"Are you into man?"
"NO." Ser Criston quickly responded, his voice much louder this time. He was starting to get irritated. "I had my fair share of girls in my bed. Many of them wanted to be with someone who fought and is still alive to tell the tale." He confessed, and Ser Elric nodded his head slowly before looking back at Prince Aenar, who was now fighting with three gold cloaks, with Lord Laenor watching them closely as if trying to remember everything they did.
"My first time was with a servant girl in Winterfell. My uncle wasn't thrilled when they caught us in bed together." Ser Criston wanted to say that he, too, had been with a servant girl. He still remembered her beautiful face and felt compelled to inquire if he had ever tasted Southerner women.
"Wait, you said you came here without your father's permission. Have you been to the North again?"
Ser Elric's face changed; he grimaced, and for a moment, he was quiet as if contemplating whether to answer or not. "Once. I thought my father would be proud of me after he saw that I had become Prince Aenar's guard, but he wasn't thrilled; he told me that I am forbidden from ever returning home, and if I ever were to die in war, when my bones are sent back to my father, he said he would feed my bones to his Direwolf 'Night'." Ser Elric shook his head, and turned his gaze away from Ser Criston.
Ser Criston was left speechless. He didn't know his father well. He died years ago, but he knew his father always loved him. He didn't know what to say to Ser Elric. There was nothing he could say, but he patted him on the back—the only thing he could do right now.
"You are drunk." The two quickly glanced back at Prince Aenar as a gold cloak stumbled over him. Even from this distance, they knew he was drunk, and the way he was holding his sword, with only two of his fingers gripping it clumsily, it seemed as if the sword would fall out of his hand at any moment.
"I called you all here to train and fight. To show me what you can do, and you come here drunk." Aenar spoke sharply and looked insulted. The man remained silent, his body twitching as if he were about to collapse.
"I'so-sorry, prprince—" Aenar looked furious, and Ser Criston could not fathom how this man dared to disrespect the Prince in front of everyone. Three gold cloaks strode forward to take the man away, but Aenar quickly raised his hand for them to stop before stiding forward towards the soldier.
"Attack me." The soldier still tried to attack, but Aenar easily ducked the slash before kicking him from behind, causing him to lose his balance and fall into the mud with his face.
"Get Up." Aenar ordered with a glare.
Ser Criston knew this would not end well, and he was proven right as the Prince had the man attack him four more times before kicking him from behind. This time, Aenar kicked him in the face. His lips turned red, and two of his teeth were hurled into the air. But then Aenar kneeled down, punching him two more times before everyone. Once he was done, he stood up and looked at the rest of the soldiers.
"Look at him if I see any of you act like him during training or during a war. I will have your heads." Aenar claimed with a booming voice, and the soldiers nodded their heads one after the other. They all had seen the Prince being capable of beating three of them at the same time. They didn't want to get on his bad side, and the sight of Cannibal was something that still terrified anyone who saw him.
"Give him to the Maester." Aenar gave the order, and two gold cloaks dragged the man away, leaving a trail of blood behind.
Once that was over, he turned to face the rest, and they all straightened up right away.
"Alright, we are not done yet."
Five Hours Later
"You all have done well, my men. Ser Elric. Give each of them a drink from me, but I don't want them drunk." Prince Aenar said in a friendly voice after hours of training.
The Gold Cloaks celebrated as ten gold coins were handed to Ser Elric, who told them to follow him. There was an alehouse just outside of the castle.
Aenar thought this would be it. His hands were itchy and quite uncomfortable, he was sweating, and he needed a bath, but he watched as Laenor walked up to him. Despite the many bruises on his face and body, he still held the dull blade with his hand, and the Prince knew what he wanted.
"Laenor, it's getting late. Maybe tomorrow," Aenar said, pointing at the sky above them. It was dusk, with the sun sinking into the horizon.
"One more time, cousin. I think I can defeat you this time." Laenor spoke confidently.
Aenar raised an eyebrow, but decided to humor him. "Very well, Laenor. But if you fail, you will buy a drink for all my troops. Deal?" He asked with a smirk, and Laenor opened his mouth to protest but quickly closed it.
Laenor knew this was a good opportunity to fight him again. He knew his father liked Aenar being good with a sword. He always made sure to mention how good Aenar was with his sword.
'Did you see Prince Aenar fight? He might be young, but he is almost as good as me. Within a few years, that boy might become the best swordsman in Westeros. Much better than you Laenor.'
He still remembered his father's words about his cousin, and he knew he could convince him that he, too, was worthy to be his heir, worthy to be his son. He would prove it in this war, even if he died trying. He would show his worth as the son of the Seasnake.
"I accept your conditions, Aenar." Laenor spoke confidently as he aimed his sword at his cousin, whose face immediately turned serious.
"Very well," Aenar agreed in a quiet voice before quickly attacking. Laenor was caught off guard by the speed and quickly tried to block his attacks, but his cousin was too close. This was ridiculous. He had seen him fight, but he was never this fast. He kept blocking and blocking, but in the end, he saw the sword but not the fist.
Laenor could taste the blood and the mud on his mouth; he quickly reminded himself where he was and was quick to his feet, looking at his cousin, who was watching him closely.
"Again!" Laenor shouted, and this time, he was the one to rush him. He was sure he could get the upper hand as he tried to slash, stab, and hit him, but Aenar easily dodged all his attacks. When he tried to get into his space and punch him, Aenar's elbow on his stomach made him gasp in pain, all air leaving his lungs and another punch in the face.
He was eating mud once again; he spit it all out as he stood back up. "I think this is enough for tonight."
'I think this is enough for tonight, perhaps you will do better tomorrow.'
Laenor could almost feel his father's disapproving gaze and tone—the same words. Why could he never be enough? Why did he always fail?
"NO." Laenor struggled as he stood up. This time, his cousin was looking at him with concern, which only made Laenor more angry. He was a warrior; he didn't need his pity.
"Again." Laenor almost ordered him, and Aenar did as he said.
Laenor tried to fight him, but Aenar easily overpowered him; this time, he wasn't letting him get up again. "Laenor, what is wrong?" He asked, sounding genuinely concerned for him.
"Nothing." He said what he always said when someone noticed something, but Aenar didn't seem to believe him. Instead of pressuring him more, he looked at Ser Criston.
"Ser Criston, can you walk further away?"
"Of course, your grace." The knight listened to his order and walked away.
Once he was out of their earshot, Aenor helped Laenor to his feet. "Laenor, why are you trying so hard?" He questioned him as they walked away from the training ground.
'Because I'm a Velayron,' Laenor wanted to say right away, and it wasn't a lie. He was his father's heir; his father was feared in the realm, even before he married Princess Rhaenys, which only increased his reputation in the realm.
"Why do you, Aenar? Hmm. I train for the same reasons you do. One day, we will be lords of castles. I will inherit Driftmark, and you will inherit Summerhall. Is only right that we are good warriors, so our people will feel safe under our protection. They want in charge someone they know can fight and win for them." Laenor spoke with a hint of frustration, and he could see Aenar nodding in agreement.
"That's true. One day, we will be in our fathers' place, and we want to make sure we do as good of a job as they did, if not better than them. But you should not think of becoming exactly like your father. No matter what we do, we cannot be like them, just like how they cannot be like us. I don't think there's anything wrong with you being different from him." Aenar spoke with a look of understanding, but Lanor shook his head in denial.
He knew his cousin was trying to make him feel better for himself, but he didn't need pity; if he wanted pity, he would have gone to the nearest bar and cried to someone about it.
"It's easy for you to say, Aenar. I don't know if you see it, but you are just like your father, your father is proud of you. The way he looks at you. My father has never once looked at me like that. Not once." Laenor said with a rueful smile before frowning deeply, looking down at his hands; the marks of using the sword the whole day were left on his skin. "This is why I must train like this, this is why I must fight in this war. My father will no longer see me as just the son he ended up having." Laenor finished his talk, and he knew Aenar wanted to say something—perhaps something to make him feel better—but Laenor wasn't in the mood to listen.
"Aenar. Tomorrow we train the same time?"
"...Alright." He spoke with reluctance, and Laenor smiled at him.
"Thank you, and..." He searched his pockets before dropping ten golden coins into his cousin's hand. "This is for the bet. Good Night."
After returning to his chambers, he ordered the handmaiden to prepare a bath for him.
"Of course, your grace." Tyana said eagerly with a big smile, quickly leaving to prepare him the bath.
While alone, Aenar wondered what his father was doing right now, as well as where Rhaenyra had gone. His thoughts turned to Laena and Ghost. Last night, he dreamed he was him, and it seemed everything was going well with Laena.
He wondered how long it would take her to find Vhagar, or maybe she had already found him; he didn't know. The thought of Laena brought him a warm feeling inside him. He closed his eyes, imagining her before him—her lips, her breathtaking beauty. He couldn't wait for her to come, and the three of them could be together again.
Tyana returned to him and told him the bath was ready.
"Thank you, Tyana. You can leave now," Aenar said dismissively as he waited for her to walk out of the chamber.
Her face changed, and she looked quite disappointed. She reluctantly left the chamber. "I'm outside if you need me, Your Grace," she told him before closing the door.
Aenar could imagine Laena's reaction if she was here right now. He undressed himself and slipped into the warm water. A sigh of relief escaped his lips, and he already felt the exhaustion fading away as he washed his arms and legs.
After bathing for half an hour, Aenar dried himself with a towel and slipped into his night clothes before leaving the bath chamber.
Aenar made his way back to his bedchamber, thinking he was alone. Once he entered, he closed the door and turned around. Lying there on his bed, bathing in moonlight, was Rhaenyra, wearing nothing but a red gown that did little to hide her beauty; if anything, it only made her look more like an angel.
"Rhaenyra." Aenar breathed out, feeling his cock turning hard at the sight of her beauty as he walked deeper into his chamber. "What is a Princess such as you doing in my chambers? You know, if people saw you. They would think of you as a whore." Aenar smirked playfully as he stopped in front of the bed.
Rhaenyra slowly sat up from his bed, moving her legs beyond the frame. She stood up fully, now facing him and looking up at his purple eyes.
"I wouldn't mind being your whore, Aenar." His arms went around her waist before sliding down until they were resting against her ass cheeks.
"Ahhh!" Rhaenyra moaned as he slapped her ass; she felt both pain and pleasure and quickly moved her thighs against his hand, making the message clear to him.
"Hmm, does my little Princess want me to take care of her?" He slapped her again and again, and she moaned even more in pleasure.
"Your whore wants you to fuck her, Aenar." She whispered seductively against his ear, and this was too much for him as he finally kissed her lips.
Rhaenyra moaned as he plundered her mouth, his rough lips bashing her own into submission.
Wrapping her arms around his broad back, she clutched at the cloth of his night clothes.
Bringing her hands in between them, she began unbuttoning his shirt. Though she quickly lost her patience when she realized that she couldn't focus on doing so while still maintaining their heated lip-lock. So, with a quick pull, she ripped them off, both surprising Aenar with her actions and giving her hands-free, unobstructed access to now explore his chiseled upper body.
Rhaenyra trailed her hands up and down his bare chest and abs, memorizing each and every ridge and dip that her palms passed over as she grew even more invigorated in their kiss.
Bringing both of his hands down to her waist, Aenar easily got rid of her nightgown; his fingers quickly found her dripping cunt.
Back arching at the feeling of his experienced fingers doing teasing circles around her clit. Her mouth fell open, and her eyes shot open as she experienced pleasure.
He brought her to the very edge where her cunt muscles tightened in preparation for her orgasm, but right before she fell over that precipice, he would bring his hands back, ignoring her cries for more and leaving her in a constant state of being on the edge of climax.
Rhaenyra moaned pathetically as he started circling her clit with his fingers once again. She didn't know how much more of this type of stimulation she could handle without her mind breaking. Lucky for her, Aenar decided to end it all at that moment.
One moment, she was looking up at Aenar while her hands traced his washboard abs as she tried to distract herself from the pleasure she was feeling; the next, she was seeing stars dancing in her vision as her mind danced at the edge of consciousness. She felt like she was floating in a sea of pleasure, and when the full pleasure came down to her, she could not remember screaming so loudly.
It started in her core but quickly radiated throughout her entire body.
Her body shook, her legs twitching, and her abdomen contracting and relaxing rapidly as she experienced the brain-melting pleasure that Aenar gave her. She struggled to breathe, her mind scattered as she tried to regain her composure.
"You did so well for me, Nyra." Aenar's deep voice almost made her moan as she still tried to regain back her mind, but it was drifting away, especially when she felt his hands on her once again.
"Look at this," he said while raising his hand, showing off to her half-lidded eyes how thoroughly soaked it was from her climax.
Bringing it up to his lips, Aenar groaned in delight as he licked his fingers clean of her cunt juices, smirking around his digits as Rhaenyra whimpered needily while watching him do something so erotic.
"Fuck, Rhaenyra. You taste so good," he said after cleaning off every square millimeter of his hand.
He moved his hands to his pants, but Rhaenyra, putting her hands on his own to stop him, caused him to pause in confusion. That confusion turned to realization, and an amused smile grew as he saw the blush covering Rhaenyra's cheeks.
"Let me take care of that," she whispered with a wide grin.
Sitting up so she had more mobility, she looked up and into his eyes before looking back down to where her hands were gripping the hem of his pants. Then, with a single quick pull, she brought them down.
Her eyes traced every vein that she could see, watching it throb as blood pumped to it from everywhere in his body to bring him to complete hardness. Not the first time he had fucked her with this amazing cock, but still felt amazed by his size. No wonder so many servants in Dragonstone and King's Landing wanted Aenar.
"Fuck Me, Aenar." She ordered with a sultry expression.
"As my Princess commands." Aenar said with a smirk, his arms going around her waist, having her sit on the bed's frame with her legs open for his cock.
She felt Aenar press the head of his penis against her opening, Rhaenyra's lips parted, and a low moan left her mouth as she felt him slowly pierce through her folds and begin his journey into her love canal. Every nerve ending in her crotch was activating as Aenar's immense girth scraped against the walls of her vagina, sending pleasure signals straight to her brain and making her toes curl as she felt him stretch her out.
He finally reached the deepest part of her womanhood.
She screeched, her eyes crossing as he bucked his hips, pulling her towards him with one quick and brutally hard thrust.
Again and again, he slammed into her, each time dragging his hips back till only the head of his cock remained inside her before plunging back in, completely bottoming out inside of her while his balls clapped against her ass cheeks. Rhaenyra's mouth fell open, and a long whorish moan escaped her throat as she was quickly brought to orgasm from Aenar's aggressive pounding.
Her eyes rolled into the back of her head as she experienced one continuous orgasm while Aenar's angry grunts of exertion filled her ears.
If she had been able to think at that moment, Rhaenyra would've realized that anyone could hear them now, given how unrestrained they were. Instead, for the second time that day, she was seeing stars in her vision as she was brought to climax after mind-numbing climax from his hammering thrusts. Then, when she didn't think it could get any more intense than it already was, Rhaenyra let out the lewdest, most slutty sound she'd made since they started as he groped at her tits while their hips clapped off one another.
Rhaenyra wrapped her legs around his back, bringing his focus back to her when she felt he was slowing down for reasons her mind couldn't comprehend. All she wanted was for this pleasure to continue forever.
"Fuck! I'm cumming!" She screamed without regard for anything, her mind going completely white with pleasure.
Aenar groaned as her legs tightened around his back, holding him in place as she rode out her orgasm. Once her body stopped shaking and her legs finally went slack, Aenar, having not reached his own climax, let go of her breasts, moved his hands to her ass, and effortlessly lifted her curvaceous form into the air.
Rhaenyra yelped as she felt her body suddenly rise into the air, instinctively wrapping her arms around his neck and grasping onto his broad shoulders in order to keep herself stable. Her legs remained uselessly hanging to either side of his body.
Aenar wasted not a single second more, instantly restarting their session of rough copulation.
Lifting her up and down with his hands digging into her round cheeks, the Prince growled as the lewd sound of her ass bouncing off his thighs resounded in the bedchamber as he got back to his brutal pace. Her ass rippled with each collision of their hips, the plump meat jiggling in his hold, arousing him even further. With her body completely under his control in this stand-up position, it was even easier to pierce deeper inside of her.
Rhaenyra's moans and cries of pleasure bounced in his eardrums as she clawed at his back, the head of his cock constantly beating on the entrance to her womb each time he bottomed out. He felt a stirring in his loins as her walls ungulated around his dick, her vagina instinctively doing its best to milk him of his seed.
"Shit, Rhaenyra! I'm close!" He practically growled. A loud, almost animalistic sound made the girl beneath him feel like lightning was shooting at her brain.
"Oh God, me too! Cum inside!!!!" She cried as Aenar upped the ante of his pounding.
"Here it comes! Rhaenyra!" Aenar groaned hoarsely, his eyes closing tightly, his glutes tightening, and his balls rising as he finally let loose the seed he had stored up, emptying himself completely inside Rhaenyra.
"Yessss," Rhaenyra hissed, her arms that were wrapped around Aenar's neck holding on while she did her best to wrap her legs around him to ensure he didn't pull out until she had gotten all of his releases.
Lifting her up and off of his now softening dick, Aenar lowered her to the bed, but because her legs were still shaking, she still held on to him to keep herself up. The two of them were taking in deep breaths of air.
He lay there with her, hearing each other's breathing, until Rhaenyra broke the silence.
"That was amazing." She said with a hazy expression before reaching down; her fingers curled around his cock that quickly hardened under her touch.
"Again!" She suddenly said before mounting him, ready to experience more pleasure.
One Week Later
For the following week, Aenar and Laenor made sure to train every day in swordfighting, and sometimes Laenor taught him a few things on how to sail a ship since Aenar knew nothing about sailing a ship. Daemon taught Rhaenyra more about how to fly her dragon. Aenar also made sure to spend more time with the Gold Cloaks.
Over the past week, he has heard reports of Kinvara frequently conversing with his father. He didn't know what the two were talking about, but he didn't really care. He knew his father felt lonely, and he tried to always be busy so he wouldn't think too much about it. If his father wanted to find relief in a woman, that was fine.
Rhaenyra made sure to listen to everything her uncle told her to do, after all. Daemon was the best dragon rider in the whole realm. But she didn't understand why she needed to fly around the rocks.
"I thought you said I wasn't used to them screaming; how does this help me?" Rhaenyra asked on the second day after the two had once again landed on the small island near Dragonstone. Rhaenyra questioned on the second day after, once again, the two landed on the small island near Dragonstone.
"I'm afraid there's nothing that can prepare you for when that moment comes, why I'm having you flying around this rock formation is so you get better at flying Syrax, and when you are out there, you and Syrax will burn ships. It is not as easy as just breathing fire on them, but make sure not to fly around the same ship for long. You should be careful with the archers." Her uncle said before telling her to mount her dragon.
But this time, it was different. He was leading her towards the wilder part of Dragonstone. Just below them, she could see a pack of mountain goats climbing the side of a mountain. Soon, reaching the top, she saw many of them.
"Burn them." Her uncle shouted at her before flying away, leaving her on her own. Rhaenyra could almost feel Syrax's hunger as she got closer to the goats, who began running away at the sight of the dragon getting closer. As she descended toward them, she closed her wings slightly.
Rhaenyra took deep breaths as she came closer and closer. "...Dracarys!" She shouted, and Syrax bathed five goats in flames; their screams were silenced quickly by the rush of flames, and the heat killed them quickly.
Syrax landed, shaking the ground, and the rest of the goats ran away in fear, but the dragon paid them no mind as she started feasting on the five goats she had burned. Rhaenyra was left a little shocked. Despite having Syrax for many years, this was the first time Rhaenyra had gone hunting with her. She had seen her eat animals, but after, they were already dead. She didn't have to hear their screams.
I'm the blood of the Dragon, she told herself over and over as she slowly regained her composure. Finally, she looked down at the three goats left. Their fur had burned out completely, and the smell coming from them was that of burned meat and bones. Syrax's sharp teeth, like Valyrian steel, grabbed one by the leg, opening and closing her mouth; soon, the whole goat was inside her mouth, turning her mouth red with blood.
This is how I get stronger. I need to get used to this, to hear screams, Rhaenyra thought in her head. If there were a war in the future, she would need to be prepared for this kind of sight. She was supposed to be a Queen, not just any Queen. The Queen. How could she be one if she is unable to use her dragon?
After Syrax ate the rest, she and Syrax returned to Daemon, and he looked at her proudly. "You have done well, Rhaenyra," he told her with a nod.
For the next five days, Rhaenyra decided to hunt with Syrax every time she got hungry. On the third day, it was fish, and on the fourth day, she hunted down Mountain lions. Their screams—she wasn't used to them yet, but she was sure she would soon enough. Now, she just needed to get used to the screams of the people burning.
Eventually, after a week of preparation for the war. They all had gathered on the Painted Table once again.
"We have received information from the scouts. Fifty ships are sailing towards The Step Stones to supply the pirates there and the Crabfeeder. We cannot let these ships to reach their destination. Prince Daemon and Prince Aenar will meet them here." Corlys placed two dragon figureheads on the sea between the ships and the stepstones.
"The two ride the largest dragons we have while they deal with the ships. We will use Princess Rhaenyra's plan against the pirates who are hiding in the caves." Corlys continued, and Rhaenyra felt herself smile at the looks she received from Corlys's lords, especially Lord Celtigar. It felt good to receive such looks, but she knew it was not over yet. If her plan failed, she would lose any kind of authority she had in this war.
"Hundreds of pirates are still hiding in the caves." We will send a small group there, and they will carry the poisones food. We will wait a week to see if it worked. While this happens. My son will fly over the stepsstones to see if any of ships will escape, and your duty is to stop them from sailing away." "Father, might I suggest something different?" Laenor interrupted him with a look of confidence as Corlys nodded his head.
"You and your ships will sail here to block the ships from sailing away, and engage if needed, so I don't think I'm needed to fly here. The ships come from the Free Cities, and they will try to sail back to the Free Cities. I don't see them wanting to sail further south, towards Dorne. I think Seasmoke is better used here." Laenor said as he placed his own dragon figurehead where the other two were placed.
Corlys looked deep in thought before nodding to his son. "Very well. You will fly alongside Prince Daemon and Prince Aenar."
Aenar and Rhaenyra had never seen Laenor look as happy as he was right now, and the lords giving him nods of approval made him smile like never before.
Later
"Where is Princess Rhaenys right now?" Rhaenyra questioned as she was preparing herself.
"I heard she flew back to Driftmark, something about checking on Laena, and see if she is doing a good job ruling the castle without her father." Aenar replied casually as the squires helped him wear his armor. Rhaenyra walked into a different chamber to wear her own armor.
After so many years, he was once again wearing armor for war. The first time in this life. He remembered being scared the first time when he fought against Stannis's forces; his hands would shake, but Aenar felt no fear now. He had witnessed war numerous times in the past, and now that he was experiencing it once more, it no longer felt the same. This time, it felt strange, being out there again. He felt as if he was looking forward to this.
The squires helped him put on his armor, and the door opened, revealing his father, who was wearing his own Targaryen armor with Dark Sister strapped to his waist. "Father?"
"Leave us," Daemon ordered the squires, and they all bowed their heads before quickly leaving the chamber. Once the door closed, the Prince motioned for his son to stand up. His father looked at him from head to toe, a smile stretching on his lips.
"Look at you. You remind me of myself when I first wore armor. Well, it was for a tourney, but I still remembered feeling excited wearing armor. I remember wondering if this is how a Dragon feels. How do you feel?" Daemon asked, placing his hand on Aenar's shoulder.
"I'm ready, father. I'm not afraid of this war." Aenar said firmly, and Daemon looked at him with a furrowed brow but still smiling with pride.
"That's good, but you should not be too brave. Make sure not to go too far on your own." Daemon instructed, kneeling to his level and looking at his son right in the eyes. "I know you are a brave kid. I know you are strong, but this is your first time tasting war. This is not something you can ever be prepared for, especially the first time."
"But you have never been to war either, father." Aenar pointed out with a little smile.
"Yes, but I'm the grown up here. I'm smarter than you."
"Oh, that's news to me." Father and son shared a burst of laughter, and Daemon pulled his son into a hug.
"Your mother would be proud of you, son," Daemon whispered to his ear before pulling away. He could see his son's eyes turning a little foggy. "Do you still have the necklace she gave you?"
"I do." Aenar said as he pulled down his tunic, revealing the silver necklace she had given him with the promise that he would give this to someone he truly loved one day.
"Do you know who you will give this to?" Daemon asked, standing up. His son nodded but didn't answer.
"Whoever she is. I know she will be one lucky girl." Daemon spoke with pride before kissing his son on the forehead.
Another door opened, and the two looked at Rhaenyra walking inside, wearing her armor for the first time.
"Rhaenyra. Are you sure you can't wear this every day?" Rhaenyra giggled in amusement before whirling around to show off her armor.
Rhaenyra was wearing night-black plate armor, with the three-headed dragon decorated on its breastplate. Underneath the plate, he wore a silver ringmail. Rhaenyra decorated her helm with gold, orange, and red silken streamers resembling flames.
"You look amazing, niece." Daemon praised her, and Rhaneyra beamed at him before looking at Aenar. Daemon couldn't help but feel like he was looking at himself when he first met Lyanna.
Our son will become the best King of Westeros Lyanna; he thought as he walked out of the chamber to give them some privacy.
Night - Stepstones
Rhaenyra and Syrax flew over the many islands, the half-moon showering the place with a dim blue light.
She knew her plan was executed three hours ago, and she still didn't know if it worked, but she was sure it did. What if it had failed? The others would laugh at her, what if—Stop thinking about it, Rhaenyra scolded herself.
Focus on the ships, she told herself as she looked far into the horizon.
Luckily for them, the night made a good camouflage for their dragons, making it much more difficult for the archers to see them, and unlike them, Corlys had confirmed that the enemy ships were using lanterns to brighten up their ships, and they should be able to see their ships.
Rhaenyra squinted her eyes and saw them like small ants crawling in the sea. "Naejot, Syrax (Forward, Syrax)," she ordered, and her dragons quickly flew towards them; the closer they got, the larger their ships became to her. She didn't know if they could see her yet, but her uncle had told her to use the darkness of the night as much as possible.
'They won't see you, but they will hear you getting closer, and no matter what, do not stand too much in one place.'
Closer, closer, closer, now she could see the many lights on the closest ships. Closer, closer...
"DRACARYS!!" Rhaenyra roared, and Syrax bathed the ships in flames. The screams echoed in her ears as she quickly flew upwards, trying to use the darkness to hide herself again. But as she looked over her shoulder, she saw the ship was still sailing, and only a part of the main deck was on fire, with people jumping overboard.
"Arlī (Again)," she ordered her dragon, and the two made a half-circle turn before flying towards the ship once again. The flames were still burning on the main deck, and this time, Rhaenyra heard the sound of whistles near her ears. Why do I hear whistles? she wondered as she flew closer to the ship. This time, she would not fail.
"DRACARYS!" The torrent of flames bathed the rear of the ship and part of the main deck in flames, and more screams echoed in her ears, this time much louder.
I'm the Blood of the Dragon, they are my enemies. They Are My Enemies, she repeated in her head, and as she looked over her shoulder as Syrax gained distance from the burning ship. It was still sailing, but almost the entire ship was engulfed in flames.
"Tȳne lōgor (Second Ship)," Rhaenyra ordered as she flew down on them once again. From the corner of her eyes, she was sure she saw pirates jumping from the first ship. She realised she hadn't killed everyone from the first ship, but that ship could no longer be used and would soon sink. That was all that mattered.
"Dracarys!" She screamed, this time hearing many more whistles around her, she winced as she felt something hit her stomach, but whatever it was, her armor had protected her, this time the torrent of flames didn't stop until she had carved a line of fire from the front to the rear of the ship, their screams echoed in the night, but Rhaenyra ignored them as this time, she didn't gain as much distance, making a sharp turn like her uncle had taught her, she was on the second ship within ten seconds.
"Dracarys!" she ordered, and the flames consumed the ship's main mast, causing it to collapse onto the ship's rear. She knew that ship was done for, but there were forty-eight more ships to burn.
Suddenly, she heard claps of thunder and looked upwards as a massive shadow engulfed her dragon and flew past them.
The Cannibal's wildfire flames turned the night green. The entire sea reflected the flames of the beast, as if the sea itself were burning from the flames. Rhaenyra gasped in shock as the Cannibal's wildfire destroyed three ships with a single, massive torrent of fire that scorched the ships like paper.
Rhaenyra quickly joined Aenar. She wouldn't let him take all the glory, but she soon noticed two more dragons. From their sizes and bodies, she immediately knew which one was Caraxes.
The Red Worm bathed two ships in flames, his bright fire cut through the ships like a knife through butter, and Rhanenyra quickly descended on one of the ships, this one was smaller, and with a single torrent of fire, the ship was already sinking, but as she turned her head, she noticed that Laenor was flying Seasmoke in an almost standstill, the dragon's wings were flapping, but he was hardly moving around, and allowing himself and the rider to be perfect targets.
Rhaenyra looked away, she reminder herself that she could not waste time paying attention to others.
.
.
"Dracarys!!" Aenar's booming voice echoed as Cannibal descended on them like a beast from hell. His wildfire flames consumed the ships as if the flames were alive; the entire ocean had turned green and red from the burning ships, but as he looked forward, he quickly noticed something...strange.
He could see ten ships that appeared much larger than the others, and one of them appeared bigger than Westeros's largest ship.
"Va zirȳ (Towards them)" Ignoring the screams of pain underneath him, not the first time he heard them scream. He found them quite annoying. Cannibal's enormous wings flapped like thunderclaps as he reached the skies, using the darkness to camouflage himself, unlike the other dragons. Cannibal was black as coal.
He descended on them like a beast, closing his wings. He saw the first big ship, it wasn't the largest, but then he heard a loud whistle flying past him. He knew what that meant.
They have scorpions!! he thought as he quickly moved his Cannibal around, avoiding two more giant bolts before descending on them from the other side, from their blind side.
"Dracarys!" Cannibal bathed the ship in flames, but then...
BOOM!!
Aenar's eyes widened in horror as the entire ship exploded in a burst of wildfire, and it was coming towards them too fast!
"Cannibal. Bē (Cannibal. UP)" Aenar ordered but it was too late as the wildfire hit Cannibal's stomach, and the dragon screamed into the night from the pain, but quickly flew upwards towards the clouds, ignoring the pain of his stomach.
How did this happen? It had never happened. Wildfire! They have stored wildfire inside the ships!! Wildfire is the only thing that can harm and burn dragons, so that means... Aenar's eyes widened in realization as he looked back at the other ten big ships, with the largest one sailing in the front. Aenar knew he would need to warm them not to attack them when he heard a dragon roar.
Aenar's eyes widened as he watched Seasmoke fly towards the biggest ship in the front, possibly the one with the most wildfire inside.
.
.
Laenor and Seasmoke could see the largest one. But he wasn't scared.
Look at me, father, look at me, he thought with a wide grin on his face as he got closer and closer to the ship. Strangely, they weren't firing arrows at him, but he paid them no mind.
Closer, closer, closer..."Dracarys!" Seasmoke's torrent of flames bathed the main deck, with the dragon flying right above it...
BOOOOMMMM!!!
Lanor's eyes widened as a burst of massive green flames rushed towards him and Seasmoke. He could do nothing; it was happening too fast for him to hope that he could fly away somehow.
"Help me."
Seasmoke and Laenor's screams echoed into the night as the dragon and rider burned from the massive wildfire explosive, consuming them both.
.
.
.
From very far away, Lykard watched with glee as the largest ship exploded, its green flames reaching two hundred meters high.
He didn't know which was the unfortunate soul, but he knew the Targaryens and the Velayrons were minus one dragon and rider right now.
"My Prince, what should we do now?" Aghan asked him from behind.
"Sail back to Dorne." Lykard ordered as he looked away from the flames and turned to face his man.
"Return to Dorne?"
"Yes. I'm sure my family misses me," he said with a twisted smile, his snakes hissing in joy.
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