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Chapter 8: Chapter 7: The Bronze FuryChapter Text

"Send me to the ends of the earth and wed me to the King of Mossovy or the Lord of the Grey Waste, Silverwing will always bring me back to Jaehaerys."

—Queen Alysanne Targaryen, the Good Queen

104 AC, Red Keep

King Jaehaerys was on his deathbed now. Dying from Alzheimer's. It was a truly horrid way to die, in my opinion, slowly wasting away, becoming less and less of yourself until all that was left was an empty shell, paler than even the palest shadow.

This was a disease unlike cancer, tuberculosis or cardiac arrest. Even modern medicine couldn't cure it.

Still, we weren't going to let him fade away without fighting to the bitter end.

My own grandmother had suffered from dementia before her death, so even before medical school, I knew how to fight it.

As soon as we realised the Old King was growing more forgetful and doddering, Laena and I began taking him out for exercise, in the form of daily walks around the Red Keep. We must have toured every corner of the castle during this time.

I ordered the kitchens to provide a strict menu of healthy foods for his meals, with a proper eye to nutrition, and made a point of eating all three meals by his side.

We also tried to keep his mind stimulated during this time. So during the afternoon, we'd play board games like King's Fist and Cyvasse. I could defeat Laena consistently, but the Old King would trounce me in every game. Even teaming up, we couldn't win.

When his eyesight began to fail, we took to reading him books from the library. Well, at least we did, before Runciter discovered the secret passage we were using to access his dominion and had a bookshelf moved in front of it. That still wasn't enough to stop us, but after Laena nearly fell off the roof, we stopped infiltrating via the windows. Now, it was mostly Uncle Vaegon that brought us the books, which Runciter only lent out at a miserly pace.

As time passed, he started seeing Alicent as Alysanne and Laena and I as his daughters. Which daughter varied from day to day. Even as his mind went, we still were able to coax many stories out of him. His years fleeing from Maegor, his marriage and progresses throughout the realm. Meeting Barth and defeating the Dornish. Aerea's tragic and horrible fate. Laena and I scribed down everything he said, and I planned on compiling it into a book: Tales of an Old King.

Uncle Daemon came by frequently as well, showering us with gifts from his trips across the Narrow Sea. Lavender oil and Myrish silks and lace. Exotic jewellery and dresses. Rare flowers and beautiful vases to put them in.

After Laena and I pointed out we preferred more... masculine gifts, he obliged. Without complaining, even.

Laena slept with her new goldenheart longbow. It was too large for her now, even though she had shot up significantly in height once she turned eleven, but she'd grow into it. Not that it stopped her from being utterly lethal to hay bales. I'd yet to see her miss a single shot. My best friend was a natural at archery.

As for me, I absolutely loved the miniature Goldcloak uniform he got me. An officer's breastplate of blackened steel, edged with brass, over functional chainmail. A tiny halfhelm, with boiled leather gloves and boots, all painted black. A thick wool cloak dyed gold. He even provided small versions of their weapons for me. Wooden versions of their cudgel, spear and officer's longsword. The dirk was metal though, albeit blunted.

The entire family gushed over how adorable I looked in it. Serjeant Rhaenyra of the City Watch of King's Landing, ready to enforce the King's laws.

Viserys even commissioned a portrait of me in that getup, which was proof that doting parents and embarrassing baby pictures transcended time and space, with not even a lack of a camera being able to stop it.

Even the Septas were not immune to it, with them frequently lecturing me on how arms and armour were not feminine one minute, before gushing over how cute I was the next.

The only person in King's Landing that wasn't taken in by me was the court fool, Mushroom. Who made jokes about a princess 'inspecting' the brothels on the Street of Silk for a quarter of a year. It was entirely coincidental that he nearly got shot by a poorly aimed arrow from Laena. Entirely coincidental.

Daemon bought gifts for Alicent as well, as well as inviting her to go for afternoon flights on Caraxes and having supper together afterwards. The Hightower scion was practically swooning whenever he visited. I was delighted about their relationship, and frequently encouraged Alicent to get romantically involved with him.

Unfortunately, despite everything, I never actually managed to get any proof of their relationship. Daemon was surprisingly discreet, so my plans for getting my father to walk in on them in bed together went nowhere. I wasn't even sure if they were fucking. If he was bedding her, then it was during his moonlit flights with her and not in her actual bed.

———

104 AC, Rhaenyra's room, Maegor's Holdfast

"You get anything out of her?" I asked my partner in crime.

"Unfortunately not. Alicent refuses to say anything about Daemon." Laena ruefully said, hugging me tighter. "She wasn't willing to spill any dirty details at all."

"Seven hells. So she's still being the perfect and chaste maiden." I grumbled, slouching in Laena's lap. Ladies that lasted longer than a couple of months in the capital learnt the necessity of paranoia, never disclosing anything that could shame them in the eyes of their fathers or betrothed. Even to their best friends. Even Alicent, no matter how open and audacious she was during our lessons, never disclosed to us if she was up to no good. But Laena had a way of making people lower their guards. I was hoping that the friendly girl would be able to coax the gossip out of Alicent, but apparently she wasn't letting her guard down.

"If you wanted to know if he fucked her, why don't you go ask Daemon himself? He'd tell you." Laena asked, nuzzling closer.

"Men would brag that they've fucked every woman in the Red Keep if it bought them another round of drinks." I complained, leaning into the older girl's embrace.

I would know. I used to be a guy, and despite being rather prudish, I still on several occasions got the urge to brag about that time I talked both Alice and Yuuki into the same bed with me. Not to mention the fact that I served two years in the Singaporean Armed Forces. I damn well knew just how much guys liked to brag about their conquests and sexual prowess. Some idiots in the bunk opposite mine even had a literal dick-measuring contest, and made no secret of it.

"It's not the same as hearing Alicent say it herself. Women don't make claims like that." I sulked.

Mostly because it was social suicide. Men whom fucked a hundred women were toasted and envied. Women whom fucked a hundred men were called sluts and scorned. That disparity remained true in every single society where men were considered superior to women. Ten times so in a conservative patriarchal society like Westeros, which placed a great importance on the bride being a virgin. There were plenty of cases throughout the history of the Seven Kingdoms, when the dowries offered for women rapidly skyrocketed when it came out that she wasn't a virgin.

So if Daemon said he fucked Alicent, people would shrug it off as an empty boast. But if Alicent said she fucked Daemon, then people would believe her.

"I don't know. I'd brag to every woman in the Red Keep if I fucked Daemon. I'd be the envy of the castle. Every one of the ladies would be jealous that I got him." Laena sighed. "He's just so handsome. And roguish."

"Every lady who he hasn't already fucked." I bluntly told her, standing up and facing the twelve-year-old. "I know for a fact that he's fucked half the serving girls, cuckolded near two score lords and knights, deflowered a dozen maidens and bedded Septas Myra, Tansy and Delilah. And that's without counting his frequent visits to the Street of Silk. Or his wife."

I nearly forgot that Daemon was actually married to Rhea Royce. She stayed at Runestone while he lived in King's Landing. Daemon loathed her, calling her 'his Bronze Bitch', and the feeling was mutual. If there was one woman in the world that I was willing to bet money on Daemon never fucking, it was her.

"I'm actually more aroused now that I know that." Laena admitted involuntarily before slapping her hands over her mouth and looking at me, horrified.

"I never saw the thrill in stealing a married woman's husband, but I'm not going to judge your tastes." I shrugged. I really had no right to judge Laena, given that I was still inclined towards women. And in a society like Westeros, lesbianism wasn't just frowned upon, it was considered a punishable sin by the Faith. The fact of the matter was, that once I got my butt onto the throne, I was going to have to whelp a few heirs. Adoption wouldn't do, and IVF hasn't been invented yet, so it was going to have to be done the old fashioned way. I was not looking forward to that bit of Queenship.

"That...that's not... not what I like." Laena stammered, her alabaster skin turning red with embarrassment. "I..."

Just then, there was a knock on the door, and I got off the bed and opened it.

"We're ready. Are you?" Uncle Daemon asked, dressed in his uniform, minus the helmet, of the Lord Commander of the Goldcloaks.

"Yes, Uncle." I agreed, pulling my own gold cloak off the hanger by the door and throwing it on over my miniature uniform. Behind me, Laena donned her own cloak, covering her own teal riding breeches beneath silver wool.

We strode through the corridors of Maegor's Holdfast, reaching the entrance, where Alicent and Vaegon awaited us with our great-grandfather.

"Daenerys, Alyssa, Baelon." Jaehaerys greeted us, eyes unfocused and holding Alicent for support. "Barth has requested my presence in the Small Council. Would you like to accompany your mother and I?"

"Of course." I smoothly replied. "But Septon Barth isn't calling you. You were going for your morning walk, remember?"

"Ah, yes, yes. My morning walk. Apologies Daenerys. I've been absentminded recently." The Old King said, shuffling forwards. "Come on, father will show you his favourite spot on the battlements. You can see the entire city from it."

We slowly guided the Old King through the corridors of the Red Keep, until we reached the main gate. There, grooms awaited us with horses and a litter for the King. Daemon smoothly mounted his destrier and Laena leaped onto her palfrey gracefully. I clambered onto my own palfrey with much less grace than those two Dothraki-in-all-but-name. Vaegon and Alicent helped Jaehaerys into the litter before climbing in themselves.

And surrounded by thirty Goldcloaks on their own mounts, we rode into the city.

———

104 AC, the Dragonpit

The Dragonpit was massive, surpassing even the size of the Smithsonian's largest aircraft display hangers. There were forty warehouse-sized chambers set in a circle, each capable of fitting a Boeing 747 in them with space to spare. Between them were rows and rows of benches, surrounding the central chamber. This was the largest building I'd seen since Harrenhal. While the Red Keep had a larger surface area, and taller towers to boot, the Dragonpit felt even larger than it actually was, because all of the space had been condensed into one supermassive arena.

And that was not even counting the inhabitants. The beasts on our heraldry and livery. The font of our power and proof that Targaryens were as gods among men.

"Here be Dragons." I muttered reverently as I stared up at them. 

Vermithor and Silverwing were coiled up around each other, the two massive dragons sharing the largest chamber. Caraxes the Blood Wyrm was the next largest, a life of exercise flying back and forth had allowed it to surpass Dreamfyre in size, despite the bluish-white dragon being the oldest of the dragons currently residing within the pit. Then there were the lesser dragons, ones whom were neither claimed nor named. A yellow beast I recognised as Syrax, Canon Rhaenyra's mount. A small, but still rideable, pale grey dragon that I pegged as Seasmoke. And that meant that the larger cobalt dragon in the corner was Tessarion. There were another two dragons as well, smaller than even Seasmoke, with white and green scales respectively, as well as a dozen hatchlings of different size, all sharing a single chamber. And last but definitely not the least...

"Hello, Sunfyre." I muttered under my breath as I stared up at my future killer. He was magnificent, a splendid beast with golden scales and pink wings. He was smaller than Syrax, but larger than Tessarion.

"A magnificent beast, your grace." A Dragonkeeper said, approaching me. I took in the sight of him. Polished black steel armour and a dragonscale-crested helm, with a thick crimson wool cloak over it to shield from the flames. "Would you like to claim it?"

"Mayhaps. It is beautiful." I smiled, dismounting from my horse, a stableboy taking the reins and leading my horse to the attached stables. "But I'm also tempted for a larger dragon."

"Aye. Dreamfyre is bigger, and more docile to boot. She's been riderless since Queen Rhaena the Tragic died." The man nodded sagely.

"But I'm not here for a dragon. The King is."

Jaehaerys had gotten out from the litter, and I watched as Alicent and Vaegon slowly brought him towards Vermithor. It was like watching a scene from a movie or fairytale. First, the Old King's steps were frail and unsteady, then his back straightened, his gait increased. He shook off Vaegon and Alicent, striding purposefully towards the Bronze Fury, whom woke up and presented its snout to it's rider.

"Vermithor." Jaehaerys said, and there was not a hint of confusion in his voice. Vermithor snorted, hot air washing over everyone. A smile appeared on the King's face. "I've missed you too."

I strode up towards them, Laena falling in behind me, the three of them turning to look curiously at us. I resisted the urge to scream and flee as the second and third largest dragons in our house bent forwards and sniffed me and Laena. Holding hands with my best friend, our hearts beating like a drum, I removed the glove on my hand and placed it onto Silverwing's snout, as Laena hesitantly touched Vermithor. The dragons exhaled softly, enjoying our touch. I enjoyed it as well. It felt like there was something between us. Something between man and dragon. It went beyond physical attraction and respect. My blood sang, and I felt my very soul being drawn towards them. There was a bond between us. Untapped and tenuous, but still there, and with the potential to become more.

I withdrew reluctantly, turning to face Laena, whom had an identical look of wonder on her face. She had felt it too, I knew.

"Rhaenyra. Laena." Jaehaerys said, eyes razor sharp and voice regal and commanding. In my peripheral vision, I saw Vaegon gasp and furiously begin writing something down.

"Grandpapa." I greeted. "You're back."

"Yes, I am, little dragon. Yes I am." He said. "My mind is clear now."

"By the Gods." Laena gasped, clutching onto my hand tighter. "You were right, Rhae. Seeing his dragon would bring him back."

"Targaryens are unlike all other men. We are the Elder Children of the Gods, above all others, for no other men could ride dragons since the Doom of Valyria." I quoted from the Doctrine of Exceptionalism. "Dragons are a part of us. They are what separates us from mere mortal men. And this is proof."

How long would his lucidity last, I wondered. Not even dragonriders were immune to the ravages of age and the blade of the reaper.

"Indeed, little dragon. Indeed." Jaehaerys said, petting my electrum hair. He then beckoned the Dragonkeepers forward, ordering them to bring out Vermithor's saddle and mount it on the Bronze Fury.

"No way." Laena whispered, awestruck.

"Grandpapa, are you sure you want to do that? You may not survive the experience." I cautioned halfheartedly. I already knew it was futile. I recognised that glint in his eyes.

"Then I will die in peace. After a long and fulfilling life. Better my saddle on one last flight than in a bed." The Old King firmly declared, as the well-drilled Dragonkeepers ran up with a massive saddle on a cart, attaching it onto Vermithor with the use of a crane built into the walls for that exact purpose. As soon as they finished, they rapidly backed off, and the Old King climbed onto his mount with the grace of a man a third of his age.

Behind us, Daemon had also saddled Caraxes and mounted the Blood Wyrm. Alicent clung onto him from behind.

"Laena, get on with him. Make sure he doesn't fall off Vermithor." I instructed, my platinum-haired cousin nodding quickly before joining our great-grandfather on the Bronze Fury. As soon as she clambered up, she offered me a hand, but I shook my head. "I won't be joining you."

I turned to look at King Jaehaerys, asking him permission with my eyes. He gave a single deliberate nod. I put my hand over my heart and bowed politely for the boon.

"Silverwing. I choose you." I declared, Queen Alysanne's mount bending it's head and presenting its neck to me. I pulled myself on, and as soon as I sat on the silver scales all felt right. Like I had finally returned to a home I never knew I missed. Like the time when I kissed Alice for the first time, after a long date. Like the time when I saw Yuuki hug our daughter for the first time in years. Like the time my whole family had thrown me a surprise welcome home party, after spending so long studying overseas.

I let out a deep, pleased, breath and met the eyes of Grandpapa and Laena.

———

And for the first time in many years, Vermithor and Silverwing flew in the skies around King's Landing. The mated dragons belonging to the Old King and Good Queen circled the capital thrice, followed closely by Caraxes, all three dragons bearing saddles and riders. Once warmed up, the three dragons wheeled around in midair, before flying due east, towards Dragonstone.