Chapter Text
Usually, when a person finds themselves magically displaced into the middle of a barren wasteland of a kingdom, the first thing they would do is try and leave it.
But for a certain Harleigh Potter, who was always more likely to run into danger than from it, her first course of action was to explore it instead. Which, in Hermione’s book, was usually an absolute no-no. And while Harleigh would usually consider her best friend’s advice, said best friend wasn’t here right now. A series of failed point-me charms had confirmed that nothing from her old world seemed to be here now.
Which, in Harleigh’s mind, meant there was nothing stopping her from poking everything around her with a stick. Or in this case, her wand.
Sure, the toxic ash-filled air did put a momentary damper on her plans. But a quick bubble-head charm had amended that immediately. As for the continuous thick lava-born air—well, let’s just say it’s a good thing she always was quite tolerant to the heat.
By the time she had made it deeper inside the city, where the air seemed to only get thicker and harder to see through, she noticed ghostly figures milling around. Strangely enough, they weren’t truly corporeal. Not to the extent of ghosts she’d met at Hogwarts, at least.
“Hey, excuse me,” she tried waving her hand in front of one of their faded faces, “do you know where we are?”
No reply. In fact, the silhouette proceeded to walk right through her, much to her discomfort.
“Okay, then.”
As she made it deeper into the city center, the figures got clearer and clearer, giving them more defining features she could actually make out. Most, she noticed from the corner of her vision, looked quite similar to each other. With matching white hair and a whole spectrum of violet in their eyes, the ghosts were clearly related to each other, if not at least of the same race. No doubt, these were the original inhabitants of this city who must’ve perished at one point.
With Harleigh’s own dark hair and bright green eyes, it was a wonder as to how the rest of the ghosts didn’t notice her sticking out like a sore thumb.
“Excuse me, but could you help me? I don’t know where I am,” Harleigh tried once more with one of the clearer-looking spectrals. Still, no one reacted or even glanced her way. And as each passing attempt was met with failure, Harleigh began to wonder if she was better off just giving up and leaving the burning city entirely.
It wasn’t until Harleigh took a seat at what looked like some broken bench that a spirit, the most corporeal of the lot, finally approached her.
It was a young girl who couldn’t be more than ten years or so, from what Harleigh could tell. Despite her messy twin braids, her dress looked well-made and in a much better state than what most of the other ghosts were wearing. No burns, no rips, not even a bloodstain. Which begets the question—what could have killed this young girl? And what exactly made her so different from the rest?
The girl quickly motioned at Harleigh to follow her, and as soon as Harleigh stood, had immediately started scampering away from the other ghosts to head deeper into the city center.
“Wait!” Harleigh had nearly cried out, only to stop herself when she nearly ran into a blackened marble pillar. It wasn’t until she was out of sight that she called for the little girl again. “Hey! Where did you go?”
She spotted the ghost again at the entrance of some barely-standing tunnel headed underground. The bricks holding it up, while strong and unfazed by time, were scorched and had sustained some damage. Harleigh still sprinted after the little ghost girl, thinking that it couldn’t possibly get more dangerous than a potential cave-in, at worst.
Only when she finally found herself in the darkness of the chamber, she heard a familiar roar.
‘Don’t tell me...’
It wasn’t until she made it to the end of the chamber that opened up into some greater catacomb that she finally recognized the sound of the roar and the behemoth of the beast residing inside.
It was a goddamn dragon. And a live one at that.
“Are you its rider?” Harleigh asked, only for the little ghostly image of the girl to start nodding furiously. The dragon seemed tame enough. But unlike the ghost girl, should the dragon decide that Harleigh was some sort of snack, she highly doubted that she could escape unscathed.
The little girl started mouthing something Harleigh could barely make out. “Ba? His name is Ba? Ba-leer-Balerion? Who is Balerion—“
Before Harleigh could finish her question, the dragon she had been watching moments before immediately turned to face her with slitted eyes.
And in lieu of a growl, she instead heard a familiar-sounding hiss. A familiar language she did not think would burst from the beast’s lips. “Who dares say my name.”
Harleigh nearly took a step back as she eyed the dark flames sputtering from Balerion’s mouth. But before Balerion could do anything drastic, the little ghost of a girl stood between them and the sound of a child’s cry could be heard echoing around the room. At the sound, the greater beast immediately gently lowered his head to the ground, as if reprimanded.
“Master...Where are you? I sense you, I hear you, but I don’t see you.”
It made for a strange image to see the large beast being so compliant to the ghostly image of a tiny girl. Before Harleigh could think on it more, however, the little ghost girl motioned her forward, pointing at her throat.
’Speak’, the ghost mouthed.
“Speak? To Balerion?” Harleigh asked, confused.
At this, the ghost nodded. ‘Speak,’ the girl emphasized, this time motioning from her throat to her heart, then to the lightning bolt scar on her head.
”Master...where are you? When can we go home?” The dragon almost crooned with a gentle tinge in his voice.
At the young ghost’s pleading gaze, Harleigh finally relented, feeling the familiar rasp she had spoken only a handful of times before. ”Your master...she is here, Balerion.”
Balerion’s head swiveled in her direction, dark reptilian eyes peering into hers only confirming the fact that, yes, this behemoth of a dragon could understand her.
More importantly, he could speak back.
”You are a speaker.”
Harleigh swallowed nervously but moved forward at the little ghost’s encouragement. ”Yes. And I can see your master.”
A blast of smoke blew out from Balerion’s nostrils as he started furiously looking around desperately. ”Where did she go? Why can’t I see her?”
The little ghost girl seemed stricken by the question, as if unsure as to how to answer. ”She can’t say. But surely you must know what happened to her last.”
”We were going on a trip. Master wanted to fly away…away from those who forgot her,” Balerion grumbled. ”So we came here. To my first home. I was tired from the flight, so she told me to stay and rest. And I did. I rested and waited for Master. But Master never came back.”
A sharp and pained keel echoed across the room, one that caused Balerion to perk up sharply. ”I heard Master. That was her. Where is she?”
As excited as Balerion seemed, Harleigh could only see a tear fall from the ghost girl’s face. ”She’s here, Balerion. Do not worry,” Harleigh attempted to placate as she saw the ghost girl shake her head. Clearly, the ghost didn’t want her to say anything more.
“What does Master want me to do, speaker? Must I wait more?” Balerion asked, now deferring to Harleigh since he himself could not seem to see the ghost girl.
At the dragon’s question, his rider immediately mouthed, ‘Home.’
”She wants to go home, Balerion.”
”Then I shall take her!” Balerion crowed proudly, already getting up onto his feet. His large size and sluggishness caused the ground to shake with each step. “We shall fly once more as we did all those years ago. And all those who doubted Master will fall to their knees when they see her once more!”
Harleigh watched as the ghost girl laughed, face just a little bit brighter as she wiped away the tear streaks on her face. It wasn’t until the child turned to face her that Harleigh realized that she was holding out her own ghostly hand for her to take.
“Me?” Harleigh called out in surprise. “Do you want me to come with you?”
As the ghost reached out for Harleigh’s hand, Harleigh was surprised to find that she could feel the tiny child’s hand in hers. It almost felt like an imprint, barely solid, but still very much there.
”If that is what master wishes, then you may ride with master on my back, speaker.” Balerion agreed, clearly itching to step out and take flight.
‘Home,’ the little girl mouthed once more. And this time, not even Harleigh had to translate for Balerion to know what the young girl wanted.
Funnily enough, it had taken quite a bit of flying around for Harleigh to realize just how strange this world was outside of the burning ruins she first woke up at. The magic there had been strangely stagnant, as if everything and everyone there had been on a perpetual hold. But as soon as she and her little ghost companion took off on Balerion’s back, she felt the world’s magic finally come alive. And with it, so did little Aerea and her voice.
“Aerea, huh? That’s a lovely name, kiddo,” Harleigh smiled, hands terribly tight around the useless reins she had been instructed to hold. It didn’t matter, seeing as no one could truly order Balerion what to do, save for his rider. “You can call me Harleigh. And that goes for you, too, Balerion.”
Balerion scoffed at that. “I will never understand you humans and your need for names.”
”You can’t just keep calling me speaker for the rest of our journey, you know,” Harleigh shot back with a laugh.
“And why not? Is that not what you are? A speaker?”
To that, Harleigh snorted. ”And if there are more speakers like me? What then?”
Instead of giving a proper answer, Balerion merely scoffs at the notion. As if the idea of another speaker even existing was nothing more than an impossible joke.
Aerea, at least, seemed taken with her name. Or perhaps it was because she could finally be heard. The fact that Balerion could now make out some of Aerea’s words had helped soften him to the witch somewhat. And being more than willing to translate Aerea’s more complicated ramblings made Harleigh all the more tolerable in the dragon’s eyes.
“Tell me, speaker…does my master look alright? Does she bear any injury or ailment?”
They were nearly two hours into their journey over the ocean at this point. And considering how Harleigh found both Aerea and Balerion, she was quick to assuage the beast’s fears.
“If there was something wrong with her, she would tell us, wouldn’t she?”
”You say that, but there is no way for me to confirm it for myself. Why can you see her when I can’t?”
Unsure of what to truly say, murmured assurances slipped from Harleigh’s lips. Truth be told, the matter of Aerea’s state and the story of her death was still unknown. No amount of prodding could get the young girl to budge. Not even when Balerion himself would fall fast asleep every time they set up camp.
”He worries for you, you know. And there’s only so much I can say as to why he can’t see or hear you like I can,” Harleigh murmured one night as her fingers combed through Aerea’s starlight locks. After realizing that she could physically affect Aerea’s corporeal form to some extent, it had become a ritual at this point for Harleigh to fasten a new hairstyle on the tiny girl every time they’d land.
Aerea only hummed as she cuddled closer into Harleigh’s body, eyes slowly falling shut. Harleigh couldn’t tell if she was feigning sleep (for when did ghosts ever need to sleep?), but she recognized the girl’s attempt to drop the subject.
“Fine, fine. But you have to tell him one day, if not me, okay? Promise?”
A tiny yawn, but one that held promise. After all, at least it wasn’t an outright no.
Considering the past few years, Alicent used to think there was little that could shake her. Her son had already lost an eye to her good-daughter’s bastard. Her husband, the King, continued to refuse to do anything about it. What more, not only had the Realm’s Delight gotten away with nary a punishment, but she had gone against the King’s wishes once again by marrying her rogue of an uncle in secret.
Truly, was there nothing her old childhood best friend couldn’t do without facing any real consequences? Without rubbing it in her admittedly green-ing face?
The only good thing to come of this had been the fact that the Blacks had left for Dragonstone, giving the Queen some respite from the entire feud. But in her despairing heart, she knew that there was only so much time before the ailments overwhelmed her husband and his favorite daughter began knocking down the Red Keep’s doors once more.
But had it been too much to hope that maybe, just maybe, she could get some peace for one more year?
“Your majesty, we have received reports from Storm’s End that a dragon and its rider are flying towards the Keep.”
“Is it my daughter?” Viserys asked, unable to hide the excitement in his voice.”Is she finally coming to visit?”
There is something painful in the hope she sees in her husband right then and there. Always hoping that his flighty daughter might return to see him, and forever blind to the fact that he has three perfect living children right in front of him. Four, even, if her youngest were to return from Oldtown.
“No, my lord. According to the letters, this dragon was unidentifiable. We only know that it was far bigger than Syrah or Caraxes. Rumors say it is even bigger than Vhagar.”
Ever the quickest of his siblings, her scarred son was the first to rise from his seat at the news. “Impossible. Father, allow me to meet this stranger with Vhagar and we will put a stop to this false claim immediately.”
And ever the quickest to put his younger brother down, Aegon merely scoffed, the liquor making it easier to spit vitriol at his own kin. “You’d only lose your head, trying to get in a pissy fight over whose dragon is bigger.”
”In case you forgot, there is no living dragon greater in size than Vhagar, brother,” Aemond seethed back.
Despite the validity of Aemond’s words, Alicent found her fingers itching to pick at her nails once more. Regardless of whether the rumors were highly exaggerated or not, it was not worth confirming at the cost of Aemond’s life. Even if the mysterious beast did belong to one of the Blacks, Alicent knew better than to trust her son’s life in their hands.
Before she could voice her own concerns, the ever-soft-hearted Viserys beat her to it. “We must not immediately assume that they are threats. For all we know, they could be allies. Family, even.”
”Or enemies,” Aegon muttered bitterly beneath his breath, no longer meeting Aemond’s one-eyed gaze.
Despite the tension in the room, Helaena, her one and only daughter, smiled mysteriously, reaching for her younger brother's hand as she did. “Worry not, brother. For it is just a lost raven flying home to her nest.”
While Aemond seemed to relax at Helaena’s words, Alicent found herself even more anxious upon hearing them. What could the arrival of this unknown dragon rider mean for the kingdom? For her family?
For her children?
”Father,” Aemond said, all the while ignoring Alicent’s own troubled gaze, “tell us what you want to do.”
“Aerea, are you sure we’re going in the right direction?” Harleigh shouted over the wind. They had been flying for nearly a week now and Harleigh had already lost track of where they were going. It didn’t take a genius to recognize that they were heading for land, however.
The little ghost girl, on the other hand, did not at all seem concerned. She instead giggled, despite Balerion’s insulted grumble.
“Have some faith, speaker. If not in me, then in that silly stick magic of yours.”
It had taken some explaining for Aerea and Balerion to understand how her magic worked. And while the older beast seemed to have some familiarity with the overall concept, he had never come across magic like hers.
Aerea was just thrilled at the fact magic even existed and had demanded a show every time she could. Harleigh had lost count of the sticks she set on fire just for the little girl’s amusement.
”We’ve been flying by the coast for almost a day, Balerion. There must be something off with my magic.”
”A day flying is but a meager amount of time. For regular foot-walkers, it would take months to travel the same path we did,” Balerion countered.
Perhaps she had gotten too used to magical travel. But after seeing nothing but sand, grass, and shores, for a day, could you blame her?
“Almost there!” Aerea laughed, pointing at a tall cliff they were flying at. Harleigh recalled their little talks of Aerea’s original home. Of a grand castle’s stable the little ghost grew up in. Of a mother she never truly knew. Already, Harleigh began to dread just how that conversation of explaining Aerea’s precarious unliving status would go. Would Rhaena Targaryen be everything Aerea described her as?
“Dragonstone! Home!”
With no choice but to trust Aerea and her excitement for a strangely large cliff, Harleigh simply held on tighter to Balerion’s reigns. Aerea, on the other hand, was laughing once more, overjoyed to see familiar land after what had been a long journey over the ocean.
Just as Harleigh was about to brace herself for another few hours of flight, a low growl immediately pulled itself from Balerion’s chest as he began to slow down. ”Another dragon is headed our way.”
”Maybe we can ask them for directions.”
Balerion merely huffed out an intimidating burst of smoke, though he didn’t seem entirely convinced. If anything, he seemed quite annoyed at the fact they were about to meet another of his kind. ”Let us find out.”
Never did Daemon Targaryen ever think that he would take to the skies alongside his nephew as anything other than enemies. But here he found himself on top of Caraxes, waiting alongside Aemond for their special guest to arrive.
Which makes sense, considering that said special guest was riding a dragon bigger than Vhagar herself. What better way to send a message than with not just one of their largest dragons, but two of them?
(He tried not to think of the implications—that maybe this could lead to a dragon fight that was years too early. Then again, his brother had sent him to meet peacefully with the mysterious rider and their beast, and he was reluctant to disobey him even now.)
“Uncle,” Aemond greeted neutrally, his singular eye watching Daemon carefully. “It’s good to see you.”
“I wish it was under better circumstances, nephew,” Daemon added charmingly. In place of the scarred little boy from years ago was a young man on the cusp of becoming a warrior—one that Daemon would have begrudgingly acknowledged had it not been for the threat he and his siblings posed to his wife. Daemon did not miss how Aemond’s eye moved to the lying Dark Sister at his hip, but neither did he point it out as they heard a distant roar from his perch. “It looks like our guest has arrived.”
Already, a dark speck could be seen coming their way. From a distance, it did not look as threatening as the letters made them believe. But as the dragon got closer and closer, Daemon could see why he had been rushed out alongside his nephew to welcome their new guest.
Because it wasn’t just any bloody dragon being ridden by some unknown stranger. It was the long-lost Black Dread, Balerion–the very beast ridden by Aegon the Conqueror himself.
“Best let them land,” Daemon suggested, already pulling at Caraxes to make space for the guest. “It’ll be easier to talk that way.”
Aemond nodded, rubbing at Vhagar’s side. The she-dragon merely grumbled unhappily, clearly more antsy than usual. “Land, Vhagar!”
As the two Targaryens waited for the great beast to land, it was then they spotted Balerion’s rider already about to leap off from its back.
“Wait!” Daemon nearly shouted, only to be stopped when he saw the newcomer descend at a pace too slow to be real. At a pace that almost seemed–
–magical.
“Sorry if that scared you,” the rider laughed, revealing a sweet and feminine-sounding voice. It wasn’t until she pulled back her hood revealing dark hair and inhumanely green eyes that the rider was, in fact, a young woman. Almost too young to be riding something as ferocious as the Black Dread. “Would you happen to know the way towards Dragonstone from here?”
“Dragonstone, milady?” Aemond repeated, clearly baffled at the lack of decorum, greeting, and propriety from the brash girl. Was this really Balerion’s rider? The very same person who had nearly sent the entire Kingdom into preparations for a war?
Eye-catching as she was for her age, she was just one person. And one who clearly didn’t grow up with the same manners or political intrigue that the rest of their family did.
Combing through her mess of hair, the girl nodded excitedly, ignorant to Daemon’s surprise at how unladylike she continued to act. “Yes! I’m trying to meet with the current Lady of Dragonstone.”
“The Lady of Dragonstone is my wife,” Daemon finally spoke. The confusion on the rider’s face was not entirely unexpected, though somewhat disarming. “I was not aware that she had set a meeting with you, lady...?”
“No titles, please. It’s Harleigh. Just Harleigh,” the woman filled in. “And you are?”
This was a first for Daemon. As a prince, he has never had to introduce himself before. Until now, it seemed. “Prince Daemon Targaryen, husband to Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen. And this is my nephew, Prince Aemond.”
“That’s strange. I was told a Princess Rhaena currently sits at Dragonstone.”
At the name, Daemon immediately bristled. “Lady Rhaena is my daughter. If you have any business with her, you will have to take it up with me first.”
The woman didn’t seem at all threatened by Daemon’s words, much to his chagrin. Rather, she seemed more confused than anything else. “Surely not. Princess Rhaena is at least your age if not older. And she doesn’t have a husband. Not anymore, at least.”
Realization seemed to bloom on Aemond’s face at Harleigh’s words. “You are speaking of Princess Rhaena, daughter of King Aenys.”
“Yes!” Harleigh exclaimed, delighted that someone had finally seemed to understand her. “Is she still at Dragonstone? If she’s moved somewhere else, it won’t be any trouble for us to fly there instead.”
“My Lady, Princess Rhaena Targaryen has been dead for nearly fifty years,” Aemond intoned carefully, watching the bothered girl with a careful eye.
“Fifty...fifty years?” The words didn’t seem to register at first. Harleigh looked to be at a loss, though Daemon noted how she turned her gaze to something they couldn’t see. “Then you and Balerion...”
Curious, Daemon decided to get the whole discussion and mystery over with. “So you know of the dragon, already. According to Targaryen history, the last person to have been seen riding Balerion was Princess Aerea Targaryen, who went missing nearly seventy years ago. If you don’t mind me asking, where exactly did you find a Targaryen dragon?”
Nothing had prepared Harleigh for the sudden interrogation by what she could only assume to be relatives of the ghost from the cursed kingdom. And Aerea, who was too heartbroken after learning of her mother’s death, was clearly of no help. The crying child had immediately run back under Balerion’s wing as soon as the questions had started, leaving Harleigh to face them on her own.
“I...I found him in this ruined city across the sea, one full of toxic air and smoke. Within the ruins, there was a cave. And in that cave was Balerion,” Harleigh answered, staying as close to the truth without giving too much information (or her lack thereof) away.
The two men shared a look as Daemon shook his head. Harleigh was quick to notice the menacing blade on his hip and how his hands never trailed too far from its hilt. “Old Valyria, then. So the rumors of Princess Aerea’s adventure were true.”
Harleigh perked up at that. They knew who Aerea was? Might they know about why she traveled to that cursed city? And how she ended up the way she is now?
“Still, it doesn’t explain how this woman survived that place. How could she have returned with Balerion when Princess Aerea did not?” The younger one wondered.
Before Harleigh could respond, she felt a warm breath on her back. ”I can feel my master’s pain. What exactly did these idiots say to make her feel so? ” An annoyed Balerion asked, causing Harleigh to flinch once she realized that he had leaned over to better speak with her.
”According to these men, Aerea’s mother is dead. Or has been for at least fifty years.”
”Hmmm...I cannot deny that they might be right. I was asleep much longer than that,” Balerion admitted, though that didn’t soften him to the two princes just yet.
“What language are you speaking?” Aemond asked, his gaze now trained on her and her alone, rather than at the dragon at her back. While still polite, the one-eyed prince had been more interested and wary of the dragon at her back. His newfound interest might have been from how strange Parseltongue sounded coming from her lips.
“The language of snakes. It is the only one Balerion speaks, so it is how we communicate,” Harleigh explained, nudging at Balerion slightly when he gave a hissing chuckle. “How else would I have known he would let me ride him?"
”If you weren’t a speaker, I would have eaten you up when we met,” Balerion grumbled.
Harleigh hid her snort with a well-placed cough. ”Admit it, you’re growing on me.”
To that, Balerion nudged at Harleigh with his snout, causing her to trip. Harleigh didn’t let it go unpunished, however, and merely nudged his face away, before sticking her tongue out at him. Were dragons always this nosy? Or was that just a Balerion thing?
“You can...speak with Balerion?” Daemon said, clearly surprised. “Can you speak with other dragons as well?”
Harleigh shrugged, honestly unsure. “If the other dragons can speak the same language, I probably could.”
”Of course, you can,” Balerion snorted. ”That’s what being a speaker means.”
Immediately, the Daemon whistled, summoning a red-scaled beast to come closer. Despite it also clearly being a dragon, it looked different than Balerion with more horns and spikes across its head. Its teeth were oversized as well, looking more like fangs as they crowned its mouth. “Would you try speaking with Caraxes then?”
At the approaching Caraxes, Balerion immediately growled. ”Find your own speaker, yelp.”
Harleigh, on the other hand, merely nudged Balerion away, moving forward fearlessly to meet the blood-colored beast. ”Let me try, Balerion. Please.”
At the words leaving Harleigh’s lips, Caraxes immediately perked up and clamored forward to meet Harleigh. He was younger-sounding than Balerion, and held an excitement to him she never saw from the older beast. ”So you really are a speaker! And here I thought your kind all died in the Doom.”
”What do you mean by the Doom?” Harleigh asked.
Caraxes near-preened, clearly pleased at having gained her interest. ”It was the calamity that destroyed our home. Many dragons died that day. As did my rider’s people.”
”The city you found me and my master in is all that is left of Old Valyria,” Balerion explained, a lot more nonchalantly than the younger beast. ”I was only a few years old when my master’s ancestors escaped.”
“What are they saying?” The younger rider cut in impatiently.
“They’re talking about some event called the Doom. Supposedly, the toxic lands we had just come from were the remains of Old Valyria. Caraxes said it was where many of your people and your dragons died. Balerion also says he was young when your ancestors escaped it,” Harleigh answered, reiterating everything she had just heard. ”I suppose it tracks with everything I’ve seen on the way here, but there has to be more to that burning city than just that. I wonder…”
Despite Daemon’s attempts to hide it, she could see a new gleam in his eyes, one she couldn’t pinpoint, as he began to speak in another language she couldn’t understand. “We must bring her back to meet my brother. He will want to know of this.”
“How do we know we can trust her?”
“Better with us and our dragons in case she does betray us, don’t you think?” the older one merely responded, earning a hesitant shrug from Aemond.
“In that case,” Daemon spoke, returning to a language Harleigh could understand, “perhaps it might be better if you would come with us to meet the King himself. That way, we can all have our questions properly answered.”
Spotting Aerea still red-eyed and teary while curled up under Balerion’s wing, the very girl whose life and death remained a mystery, Harleigh relented with a careful nod. “Right. I’ll follow your lead then…uhhh, Prince Daemon.”
It was hard coming back to the Red Keep, Rhaenyra thought. To the castle that cursed her for her gender. To the home that was taken from her by one she once called her friend and by those she may have, once upon a time, even considered family.
But those troubles were abysmal in the light of her true fear, one that started back when she was a little girl caught sneaking out to fly on Syrax, only to continue later on when she found herself forced into a marriage out of her control. Nothing scared the Princess more than the possibility of truly disappointing her father. (Unless, perish the thought, she always was a disappointment from day one.)
“Father,” a nervous Rhaenyra called out, hands shaking as she closed the King’s parlor door behind her. It had been seven years since she had last come to the capital, two years since she had birthed her second son with Daemon. And yet despite having sent multiple letters her father’s way, not once had he ever called her back. No ravens ever came for her from her father. Not until now.
“My child,” a weakened Viserys smiled from his seat. The sight made Rhaenyra’s heart clench, seeing how much her father had deteriorated in the past few years. He was visibly struggling to get up, body shaking and relying heavily on his cane. The sores on his hands and arms were bare and bleeding, pustules of yellow and black taking over the healthy skin like an infection.
“You must rest, Kepa. Do what you can to save your strength,” Rhaenyra pleaded, any resentment or fear flying out the window as she tried to help her still-smiling father sit down once more. “If I had known it was this bad, I would have come sooner. I should have-“
Viserys did not let Rhaenyra finish and instead reached for her arm with a weak hand. “No. It was I who should not have turned you away. I was too blinded in my anger to listen to you. If I were a better man and father, I would have called you home sooner rather than under circumstances like this.”
“Even so, I am happy it has brought me back to you. We will be fine as long as we stand together,” Rhaenyra assured, wiping the sweat off her father’s brow as she did. She didn’t want to waste what little time they had thinking of their past fights and mistakes. “Daemon has already sent word of the dragon and its rider. To think that Balerion had survived all these years. When I was younger, I remember you used to tell me stories about him and the missing Princess Aerea.”
The old king chuckled as Rhaenyra moved to take the seat beside him. His hands were mindlessly fiddling with another dragon-headed piece he had plucked from his model of Old Valyria moments before. “I remember it being a favorite story of yours, even though your mother always feared it to be cursed. But it never stopped you from wanting to hear more.”
“It was the charm of the mystery, I think,” Rhaenyra admitted, somewhat abashed. “I used to think that I could fly to Old Valyria and find Princess Aerea myself.”
At that, her father laughed. “Queen Alysanne once thought the same, you know. After Princess Rhaena died, she had been so plagued with guilt that she was ready to fly to Old Valyria herself if it meant bringing Princess Aerea home.”
“But it wasn’t her fault,” Rhaenyra pointed out. “According to the books, it was Princess Rhaena who drove Princess Aerea away. Not Queen Alysanne.”
“Perhaps. But that guilt never left my grandmother, not even in death. We’ll never really know why, but I can only guess that there was always more to the story than we really know,” her father hummed, eyes lost as they stared blankly ahead. “Why else would she always go to Dragonstone for years on end? No matter how many times she returned to the Keep, she was always hesitant to leave, as if something on the island was making her stay. It almost makes me wonder...”
There was a look of slight doubt on Rhaenyra’s face at her father’s reminiscing. “Makes you wonder what, Kepa?”
“Well,” Viserys added with an afterthought, “it almost makes me wonder if Queen Alysanne was, in fact, waiting all this time for the lost princess to come back.”