ᵈʳᵃᵍᵒⁿ ʰᵉᵃʳᵗ

˖⁺‧₊˚🪽.° ༘

[ the rightful heir ]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐮𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐕𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐲𝐚 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐛𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐡 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡.

Rhaenyra had taken it upon herself to wrap her daughter in loin cloth, still clad in her bloody dress. Daemon had been a wreck. He had yet to look at his wife, wandering across the golden beaches as to try and tame his wild thoughts. The Rogue Prince was a cruel man, but when his children, his family, were taken into account, he was nothing but a protective father. 

As Rhaenyra cried, hunched over the table as she closed her eyes on her still child, Daemon had fallen to the sands, fingers tightening around the hilt of his sword as a single tear fell from his dull eyes.

Your hand was wrapped in Jace's as you stood on his side, your other hand resting atop little Joffrey's shoulder as you stared at the grieving parents ahead.

Daemon looked over at Rhaenyra as they watched the orange flames lick upon the small body of Visenya, his brows furrowed upon the look of pure dissociation on her face.

You glanced to the side, eyes widening at the sight of Ser Erryk walking up the hill. He nodded his head in greeting to you, and you reciprocated the action, watching as he made his way forward.

Daemon turned around as two guards unsheathed their swords, pointing it at the approaching Ser as he spoke, "I mean no harm, brothers." He took off his helmet whilst the soldiers lowered their weapons, and he stepped forward to the Rogue Prince, bending at the knee. Rhaenyra turned just as he reached into his satchel, revealing a silver and gold crown. "I swear to ward the Queen... with all my strength... and give my blood for hers. I shall take no wife... hold no lands... father no children. I shall guard her secrets... obey her commands... ride at her side and defend her name and honor."

Daemon held the crown with furrowed brows, thumb gracing over the Targaryen emblem made of light gold, the precious metal glinting in the hazy sunlight. He turned around, before slowly walking towards his wife. 

Rhaenyra felt the heavy crown settle upon her white-haired head as Daemon dipped to his knee, raising his chin to stare at her.

"My Queen."

Bowing his head, Rhaenyra looked towards the gathered company, watching with a shaking hands as everyone fell to the grassy floor, head bowed in reverence and respect. Her eyes washed over you and her children, watching as Jacaerys offered you his hand. You smiled softly at him, taking it with a squeeze and the skirt of your dress fell in a flurry of fabric as you kneeled for your queen. 

The rightful heir.

Rhaenyra had gathered herself, brushing her tangled locks and braiding her hair into a formal style with your gracious help. She walked through the halls of Dragonstone with her head held high as guards flanked her in protection.

"Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen, First of Her Name, Queen of the Andals and the Rhoynar and the First Men. Lady of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm," Daemon called once she entered the main hall, everyone bowing their heads at her arrival. "Your Grace."

Rhaenyra stepped forward before coming to a stop as she looked over at one of the guards. She already didn't like how they followed her around. She could protect herself.

Holding her hand out in a silent command for them to leave her to walk by herself, she faced the table again as Rhaenyra came forth, offering a chalice. "Wine, my Queen."

"Thank you, Rhaena," she nodded, taking the cup from her hands, before beckoning her, "Come." Rhaenyra walked forward, glancing over at Baela who stood by her grandmother. With a flick of her head, the young girl followed after Rhaenyra after glancing at Rhaenys. 

The Queen then glanced over at you, causing your eyes to widen. Holding her hand out, Rhaenyra supplied the tiniest of smiles. She wanted you to have more lessons on ruling and democracy for you would soon become Queen after her when you married Jace.

You glanced at your betrothed, finding him nodding supportively and you soon stepped forward, nodding at Rhaenyra as you took her hand. 

She stood at the head of the table, looking over the representatives and lords gathering around, watching her with tentative eyes.

"What is our standing?" she finally asked.

"We have 30 knights, a hundred crossbowmen, and 300 men-at-arms," Daemon quickly answered. "Dragonstone is relatively easy to defend, but as an instrument of conquest, our army leaves a lot to be desired. We have sent word to my loyal men in the City Watch. I'll have some support there, but I cannot speak to the numbers."

"We already have declarations from Celitigar and Staunton, Massey, Darklyn, Bar Emmon," another lord piped up. 

"My lady mother was an Arryn," Rhaenyra stated. "The Vale will not turn cloak against their own kin."

"Riverrun was always a close friend to your father, Your Grace. With Prince Daemon's acquiescence, I've already sent ravens to Lord Grover."

Rhaenyra stared at her husband with a pointed stare before speaking, "Lord Grover is fickle and easily swayed. He will need to be convinced of the strength of our position, and that we will support him should it come to war."

"I'm going to treat with him myself," Daemon said.

"What of Storm's End and Winterfell? Steffon Darklyn asked.

"There has never lived a Stark who forgot an oath. And with House Stark, the North will follow," you stated. 

You were quite fond of the North, and of the ruling family there. You had met Cregan Stark once or twice, due to your mother's sister being married into the family.

"Lord Borros Baratheon will need to be reminded of his father's promises," Rhaenyra spoke. She watched as one of the Lord's placed a statue on the lands of Winterfell and Jace placed another on the towns near Driftmark. "What news from Driftmark?" she questioned, turning around to look at Rhaenys.

"Lord Corlys sails for Dragonstone," the princess informed.

"To declare for his Queen," Daemon chimed in.

"The Velaryon fleet is in my husband's yoke," Rhaenys continued, capturing their attention again after many glanced back at the Rogue Prince. "He decides where they sail."

"We shall pray for both you and your husband's support," the Queen nodded. "Just as we pray nightly for the Sea Snake's return to good health." Rhaenys lowered her head for a moment with pursed lips. "There's no port on the Narrow Sea would dare to make an enemy of the Velaryon fleet." Turning, Rhaenyra soon questioned, "And our enemies?"

"We have no friends among the Lannisters," her husband informed. "Tyland has served the Hand too long to turn against him. And Otto Hightower needs the Lannister fleet."

"Without the Lannisters, we are not like to find any allies west of the Golden Tooth."

"No." Daemon's rejection had Rhaenyra looking up at him. "The Riverlands are essential, Your Grace."

"Pray forgive my bluntness, Your Grace, but talk of men is moot," a lord said. "Your cause owns a power that has not been seen in this world since the days of Old Valyria. Dragons."

"The Greens have dragons as well."

"They have three adults, by my count," Daemon added to his wife's obvious statement. "We have Syrax, Caraxes and Meleys." At the mention of her dragon, Rhaenys tilted her head. Bold of them to assume her allegiance so quickly. "Your sons have Vermax, Arrax and Tyraxes. Baela has Moondancer."

"Daemon, none of our dragons have been to war," Rhaenyra spoke calmly.

"There are also unclaimed dragons. Seasmoke still resides on Driftmark. Vermithor and Silverwing dwell on the Dragonmont, still riderless." You glanced at Rhaena, her mouth pulled into the slightest frown. "Then there are the three wild dragons, all of whom nest here."

"And who is to ride them?"

"Dragonstone has thirteen to their four," he emphasized. "I also have a score of eggs incubating in the Dragonmont. Now... we need a place to gather, a toehold large enough to house a sizeable host. Here, at Harrenhal. We cut off the west, surround King's Landing with the dragons. And we could have every Green head mounted on spikes before the fucking moon turns."

"What of those of the innocents?" you questioned, raising your gaze from the ground when Daemon had mentioned that every Green would be dead within the coming weeks. "There are thousands at King's Landing. They can't be brought into this war."

"I wholeheartedly agree with this," Rhaenyra vouched, glancing at you. "The murder of the civilians would not heed to our wishe-."

"Your Grace," Erryk intervened, walking towards his Queen as he settled beside you. "A ship has been sighted offshore: a lone galleon, flying a banner of a three-headed green dragon."

"Alert the watchtowers. Sight the skies," Daemon immediately ordered, whisking away through the room as he grabbed Dark Sister. 

The arrival of Otto Hightower had Rhaenyra ordering you and her sons to stay in the fortress whilst she confronted him alongside her husband.

You were trying to busy yourself, however your hands shook as you twined the last of the threading of Jace's tunic. 

He watched you from across the room, your head downcast as you sometimes mumbled to yourself or shook your head. You constantly shifted in your seat, and often had to restart on a different section of the tunic because you had grown bored of the previous part you were sewing.

"My sweet," Jace called softly, placing his book down and walking towards you. You didn't look up at him, keeping your eyes on the clothing before you. He lowered to his knees, and took your shaking hands in his own warm ones, pressing his lips to your knuckles before he spoke, "What troubles you?"

You shook your head, not wishing to speak.

The truth was, that ever since the death of little Visenya, your mind had been plagued with all the worst possibilities that could happen. You and Jace were to be wed soon, whether it be during this foreshadowing blood bath or not. And the thought of childbirth ripping you away from your little child to leave Jace to raise them, or Gods forgive, your baby died in your futile attempt at conceiving it, would leave you worse for bare.

Your mother had died giving birth to you, only holding you for a single second before the last breath left her lips. Your father had cut down the walls and tapestries as he cried out into the air of his castle, before the sounds of your wailing filled his ears.

Rhydian had made his way through the halls, finding your little body wrapped in cloth as a midwife nursed you. He had gently taken you from the woman, and found himself entranced. For how could he hate his sweet, precious daughter. Things happened for a reason, and although he mourned his wife for the rest of his years to come, he never took out his grief on you.

You knew Jace. When the time came, and you would be blessed to see his face when you told him of your pregnancy, it would be a joyous occasion.

But still, the thought of dying and leaving your family here in the midst of everything, or for the baby to die in your womb just as you had given a tiring birth. 

"Y/N."

His voice brought you back, and you finally met his gaze, a sudden spring of tears coming to your eyes.

"I'm scared."

"Of what, my love?" he quickly questioned, hands raising to your cheeks.

"When... When your sister died-." Jace looked down, closing his eyes as he squeezed your hands in a comforting grip, however he took sought out warmth in your hold. "I couldn't help but think-... think of what was going through Rhaenyra's head during that moment." You sniffled, leaning down and raising his chin between your thumb and your forefinger. "We are to be married soon... I just don't wish to hurt you if I go. I am not as strong as your mother and look at what happened to her."

"You are one of the bravest women I have ever met," Jace stated with a deep tone. "What happened to my mother was a cruel fate that the Gods decided to play on her. But she will prevail, as she always has." He moved closer to you, hands smoothing down your neck in a relaxing wave of skin-to-skin contact. "And if you were to go... And you were to leave this precious child that we made together... I would be a fool to leave our perfect mix."

You nodded with a sniff, allowing him to brush away your tears. "I want to marry you," you whispered after a moment with a tiny smile. "I have such a deep desire to marry you."

Jacaerys chuckled, shaking his head slightly as he looked up at you, filling your heart with a deep and devoted love that had you nearly sinking into his gaze. 

"Being your husband... will be a great joy I never thought I would be able to experience."

You grinned soft and timidly, before pressing your lips to his, feeling him immediately respond as he surged forward slightly to capture the back of your neck in his hands as he threaded his fingers through your hair. 

You wished this marriage would hurry up and arrive already. You didn't know how much longer you could take anymore.