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The Revival of the Dragon

Viserys III Targaryen, the last male heir of House Targaryen following the fall of his family's dynasty, is driven by a singular obsession: reclaiming the Iron Throne. Initially seen as an arrogant and desperate figure, his exile fuels his ambition. He is ultimately joined by his sister Daenerys and niece Rhaenys, both of whom survive the initial fall of their house. Together, they form a united front with the shared goal of restoring Targaryen rule to Westeros.

eoijguh_uibik · TV
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7 Chs

A Storm comes for the Stag

Late 298 AC

(Viserys III Targaryen POV)

The salt-laden breeze from the Narrow Sea swept over Dragonstone's rugged cliffs, mingling with the early morning fog. Viserys III Targaryen stood on the battlements, his gaze fixed on the tumultuous waves crashing far below. The solitude of the moment felt heavy, almost oppressive, as if the ancient fortress itself bore witness to his thoughts.

He drew a deep breath, savoring the crispness of the air. This was the calm before the storm—a pause before they embarked on a perilous endeavor. Taking Storm's End would be their first true test. It was a formidable bastion of Baratheon power, and its fall would send a powerful message to all of Westeros.

His reverie was interrupted by the soft, measured footsteps of Rhaenys and Daenerys approaching. They had been his closest confidantes and now, through their marriages, his partners in this quest for the Iron Throne. Their presence was a reminder that he was not alone in this struggle.

"Quite the view, isn't it?" Rhaenys remarked, her voice carrying a lightness that belied the gravity of their situation. She looked out over the horizon, where the sea met the sky in a seamless blend of gray.

Viserys nodded, though his eyes were shadowed with concern. "A beautiful day," he acknowledged, "but beauty often precedes chaos. Today we plan, and soon, we act."

Daenerys stepped closer, her gaze steady and unyielding. "We must be resolute, Viserys. The men look to us for strength and leadership. We cannot afford any hesitation."

"Then let's not keep them waiting," Viserys replied, straightening with a determined resolve. "To the war room. Our fate awaits."

Together, they descended from the battlements, their footsteps echoing through the stone corridors of Dragonstone. The fortress was alive with activity, a hive of preparation as soldiers and servants moved with purpose. They arrived at the war room, where their most trusted advisors and commanders awaited them, gathered around a sprawling map of Westeros.

Viserys took his place at the head of the table, flanked by Daenerys and Rhaenys. The room fell silent, the weight of expectation palpable.

"Storm's End is our target," Viserys began, his voice carrying a steely resolve. "It is not just a castle; it is a symbol of Baratheon defiance. We must strike hard and fast, but we must also be smart. The walls are thick, and its defenses formidable."

Rhaenys leaned forward, her fingers tracing the lines of the castle's fortifications on the map. "The dragons are our greatest asset. We can use their fire to breach the walls, but we must do so with precision. A misstep could cost us dearly."

Ser Barristan Selmy, his face lined with the wisdom of countless battles, nodded thoughtfully. "The dragons will be key, but we should also look for weaknesses in their defenses. Storm's End is strong, but no fortress is impregnable. We must find where it is vulnerable."

Tyrion Lannister, seated with a thoughtful expression, interjected. "And we must consider the people. If we can win the hearts of those who serve the Baratheons, we can turn the tide in our favor. Discontent among their vassals could be as valuable as any siege weapon."

Viserys acknowledged Tyrion's point with a nod. "What of the Golden Company? They are seasoned warriors, and their expertise will be crucial in our assault."

Ser Jorah Mormont, standing with the confidence of a man who had seen many battles, stepped forward. "The Golden Company is ready. They know the terrain and are preparing for the march. But we must ensure we have the supplies to sustain a prolonged siege if it comes to that."

Daenerys, her eyes reflecting the fire of her resolve, added, "And we cannot neglect Dragonstone. It is our stronghold, and we must fortify it against any retaliation. Our enemies will not sit idle while we advance."

Viserys looked around the room, meeting the eyes of each of his advisors and commanders. Their faces reflected a mix of determination and readiness. "We have our plan," he said firmly. "We will prepare for the assault on Storm's End. We will gather our forces, strengthen our defenses, and reach out to potential allies. The dragon has three heads, and together, we will reclaim our throne."

(Daenerys Targaryen POV)

In the days that followed, Dragonstone buzzed with the energy of preparation. Daenerys threw herself into the work, overseeing the training of the troops and ensuring that the dragons were ready for the battles ahead. The fortress, once a silent sentinel of their exile, was now a hive of activity and purpose.

In the training grounds, soldiers moved through their drills with a relentless discipline. Daenerys watched them with a critical eye, noting the resolve in their faces and the precision of their movements. These men and women were the backbone of their army, and they believed in the Targaryen cause as fervently as she did.

As she walked among them, she paused to offer words of encouragement. "Remember, you fight not just for yourselves, but for the future of Westeros," she said to a group of young recruits. "Our strength lies in our unity and our resolve. Together, we will reclaim our throne."

Her words were met with nods and murmurs of agreement, their spirits bolstered by her presence. Daenerys felt a swell of pride and determination. They were ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead.

Later, she made her way to the dragon pit, where Drogon, Rhaegal, and Viserion awaited her. They had grown into magnificent creatures, their scales gleaming in the sunlight, their eyes bright with intelligence and power. She approached Drogon, who lowered his massive head to her level, a low rumble of greeting vibrating through his chest.

"We will fly soon, my love," she murmured, stroking his snout. "The world will see our power, and they will tremble."

As she stood with her dragons, she heard the sound of approaching footsteps. Turning, she saw Jon Snow walking toward her, his expression a mix of concern and determination.

"Your Grace," he said, bowing slightly. "May I speak with you?"

Daenerys nodded, gesturing for him to join her. "Of course, Jon. What's on your mind?"

Jon looked out over the training grounds, where soldiers continued their drills. "The men are anxious about the assault on Storm's End. It's a formidable target, and they need reassurance. They need to know we can succeed."

Daenerys considered his words, understanding the weight of his concern. "You're right. Storm's End is a stronghold, and it won't fall easily. But we have the dragons, and we have each other. We must show them our strength and our unity."

Jon's gaze was steady as he met her eyes. "Perhaps we should address them together. Let them see that we believe in our cause, and in them. It could make all the difference."

Daenerys smiled, appreciating his insight. "A good idea. They need to know we stand with them, that we share their resolve."

Together, they walked to the training grounds, where the soldiers were taking a brief respite. As Daenerys and Jon approached, the men and women gathered, their faces filled with anticipation.

Daenerys stepped forward, her voice clear and commanding. "Soldiers of House Targaryen, I know the task before us is daunting. Storm's End is a mighty fortress, and our enemies are strong. But we have something they do not. We have dragons. We have the strength of our cause. And we have each other."

She paused, letting her words resonate. "We have faced many challenges to reach this point, and we have always prevailed. Together, we will take Storm's End. Together, we will reclaim our throne and restore justice to Westeros."

Jon stepped up beside her, his voice firm. "We fight for more than a crown. We fight for a future where justice and honor prevail. Look to your comrades, and know that we stand united. Together, we cannot fail."

The crowd erupted in cheers, their spirits lifted by the combined strength of their leaders' words. Daenerys felt a deep sense of purpose and resolve. They were ready. They would face whatever lay ahead and they would triumph.

(Rhaenys Targaryen POV)

Rhaenys moved through the armory, the clang of hammers and the hiss of sharpening blades filling the air. The room was alive with activity as blacksmiths and armorers prepared weapons and armor for the upcoming assault. She inspected the swords, axes, and shields with a discerning eye, knowing that each piece could be the difference between life and death for their soldiers.

She stopped to examine a finely crafted sword, running her fingers over the cool steel. It was a weapon made for battle, a tool of war and a symbol of their determination. As she stood in thought, Ser Arthur Dayne approached, his presence a steadying force amid the chaos.

"You seem troubled," he observed, his voice calm and reassuring.

Rhaenys glanced up, meeting his steady gaze. "I'm thinking about the task ahead and the weight of the decisions we must make. Each choice we make now will shape the battles to come."

Ser Arthur nodded, his expression thoughtful. "War is a series of choices, each with its own consequences. But you are prepared, Rhaenys. You have the strength and the wisdom to lead our forces."