“Long May He Reign!”

———-

The sky above Rook's Rest roared with fury as three dragons clashed. Below, soldiers and smallfolk looked up in wonder and terror, scarcely believing their eyes.

After all, in a lifetime how many they could see a dragon, let alone see them fight.

Aegon tightened his grip on Sunfyre's reins as he watched Caraxes approach. Beside him, Aemond, his eye narrowed, focused on the Blood Wyrm, knowing that if he could take down his uncle, the war could end here.

Daemon knew he couldn't take down both, but if he could take down Vhagar, the usurper's cause would be lost.

Both knew that taking down the other would swing the war in their favor.

With a crack of their whip, Caraxes and Vhagar drove upon each other, claws and teeth clashing. The dragons locked in a fierce struggle, leaping through the sky.

Caraxes and Vhagar lunged into the sky above, then they locked their claws and swinging down in a deadly spiral. They breathed fire at each other, painting the sky with a canvas of green and red flames.

Vhagar retaliated with a fierce blast of pine green flame, scorching Caraxes's flank.

Unlike Vhagar, each time Caraxes attacked, he was forced to recoil from Sunfyre's searing golden flames, which cut through the air with blistering heat.

Gold, Green, and Red painted the sky as they fall.

Those below fear the clouds had caught fire.

Before they hit the ground, they released their grips and lunged back into the air, continuing their fight.

Daemon, recovering from Vhagar's assault, made Caraxes lunge above Vhagar. And Aemond fall right into his trap as Caraxes move aside. A sudden flicker of sunlight reflected directly into Aemond's eye, momentarily blinding him. Seizing the opportunity, Caraxes dived down, aiming to bite Vhagar's neck. But Sunfyre unleashed a blast of golden flame, forcing Caraxes to pull back.

Still, Caraxes turned to Vhagar's wing instead, tearing through the membrane. Vhagar screeched in pain, smoke and blood raining down from the gaping wound. Caraxes bit viciously at Vhagar's wing, tearing chunks of flesh and membrane.

In return, Vhagar tore Caraxes's wing off.

Smoke billowed from both dragons as they spun and fell from the sky, their roars deafening with Sunfyre followed the pair down.

Aemond looked aside. His face turned pale as he saw Caraxes opened his mouth wide, flames flickering inside, ready to bathe him in fire.

At that crucial moment, Sunfyre lunged and sank his teeth into Caraxes' neck, stopping him in his tracks. Fire leaked from the wounds, pouring out in a bright, fiery display.

Sunfyre then slashed with his claws, ripping through Caraxes's belly. The Blood Wyrm screamed as its scales were torn open, and a gush of blood and smoke billowed from the gaping wound.

Sunfyre's golden flames intensified, engulfing Caraxes in a blazing inferno.

Daemon, already scorched and his armor melting into a grotesque mask of molten metal and burnt leather, leaped from Caraxes onto Sunfyre, his face, a nightmarish blend of burns and scars, was barely recognizable. With a wild, pained cry, Daemon drove Dark Sister into Aegon's chest. The blade struck true, plunging deep into his flesh. Aegon gasped, his eyes widening in shock. He choked on his own blood, the coppery taste filling his mouth. His breath came in ragged gasps, and blood poured from the wound, soaking his armor. He slumped, clutching at the blade, disbelief and agony etched on his face.

As the cold steel pierced his chest, Aegon's world spun into a blur of pain. He gasped for breath, each heartbeat a thunderous drum in his ears. His thoughts raced, not of the battle around him, but of his children.

Aegon knew he had not always been good at keeping his word, his promises often left unfulfilled.

But this time, he wanted to keep it.

I will come back.

Aegon wished with all his heart that he could return to them, so that he could hug them again, eat with them again, play with them again.

The last thing Aegon saw was himself in a warm hug with his children.

As Aegon's body slumped lifelessly on the saddle, Sunfyre roared in unrestrained fury. Flicking down Daemon and enveloping him in a blistering wave of golden flame. The flames scorched Daemon's already disfigured form, the molten armor turning to slag and his flesh charring to a crisp. Daemon's scream was lost in the flame as Sunfyre's wrath consumed him.

Midair, Sunfyre bit into Daemon's lower torso, his powerful jaws snapping shut around the charred body. With a gruesome crunch, Sunfyre's teeth tore through Daemon's bone and flesh, spilling blood and organs. The crunch of bones and the sickening squelch of ripped flesh echoed through the sky. Daemon's upper torso, severed from his lower half, fell from the sky, intestines trailing behind like gruesome streamers.

The onlookers, both soldiers and smallfolk, watched in horror and as they beheld Vhagar and Caraxes fall from the sky.

As Caraxes fell to the ground, Vhagar landed on him, crushing him with her weight, the impact was so violent that it sent stones a miles away, and debris was thrown high into the air.

In fury Vhagar tore Caraxes's head off.

As Vhagar roared in victory, Sunfyre landed down, looking at Aegon lifeless body and join Vhagar with a mournful roar.

When men came to rescue the king, Sunfyre turned his wrath upon them, burning them all in a single, furious blast.

Then Sunfyre, with Aegon gushing blood from his chest down to the saddle ascended into the sky and turned his wrath upon Rook's Rest. The golden flames swept through the castle, blazing fiercely, its walls and towers engulfed in the dragon's wrath. Stones cracked and windows shattered, and wooden beams ignited, sending thick plumes of smoke into the sky.

Inside the castle, people ran in every direction, their screams filling the air as they were consumed by the golden flames. Skin melted, and flesh burned as the flames claimed their victims one by one. Some tried to flee, but there was no escape. The heat was unbearable, and the flames relentless.

The screams of the burning were drowned out by the roar of the flames as Sunfyre continued his destruction. Banners turned to ash in seconds, and the once grand halls of Rook's Rest became an oven, cooking the Stauntons like suckling pigs.

Like the Hoares before them, the Staunton line ended in fire and blood.

As the flames roared, Sunfyre flew onward, torching everything in his path, leaving a trail of fire and ashes.

———-

Jaehaera giggled with delight as she played in the garden with Ser Andy. His soft fur was a bright contrast against the green grass as he chased the ribbons Jaehaera dangled before him. Her bright eyes sparkled, her laughter filling the air as she twirled around, her silver hair catching the rays of the setting sun. The evening sky was painted in hues of lavender and pink, with streaks of gold slowly giving way to the deepening blue of twilight.

As she played, Jaehaera noticed a flock of ravens taking flight, their dark forms silhouetted against the colorful sky. A worried thought crossed her mind. Father should have been back by now. He usually returns before evening. Why is he so late?

There is something wrong.

Still, she kept her worry to herself and decided to head to her bedroom first, hoping to find answers about her father's whereabouts. She walked briskly through the corridors of the Red Keep. Arriving in her room, she looked around, but there was no one.

He should be here at this time.

Jaehaera thought as she turned to Ser Rickard Thorne, who stood guard nearby.

"Ser Rickard, could you walk me to my brother?"

"Yes, Princess." Ser Rickard nodded and offered his hand to the young princess. They made their way through the corridors of the Red Keep, the flickering torches casting long shadows that danced along the stone walls. As they approached the Grand Maester's chambers, Jaehaera's steps quickened with anticipation, but the room was empty.

Where could he be? Jaehaera wondered, her brow furrowing in confusion.

They continued their search, and it was not until they reached the old chamber, the one where her younger brother had been killed.

The one she dread.

She had always avoided this place, the memories too painful.

"Wait here, Ser Rickard." She said quietly, mustering her courage.

"Thank you for your service."

Ser Rickard looked concerned but nodded. "Be careful, Princess."

Jaehaera pushed the door open and stepped into the dimly lit chamber. The air was heavy with the weight of the past. There, she found Jaehaerys sitting on the floor, holding Maelor's favorite toy. His eyes were distant, lost in memories as he stared blankly at the worn object in his hands.

Seeing him like this, Jaehaera's heart ached. She approached him slowly, her footsteps soft on the stone floor. As she drew near, Jaehaerys looked up at her, his indigo eyes shimmering with unshed tears. The sight of his tears only deepened her concern.

Gently, she placed a hand on his shoulder and asked.

"Brother, why are you here?"

.

.

.

"Do you know where father is?"

He didn't reply. He only looked up at her. Then she saw tears welled up in his eyes and began to stream down his pale cheeks. His breath came in ragged sobs.

Jaehaerys wiped at his tears, struggling to regain control. He forced a pained smile, though it did little to disguise his sorrow.

"I just… I just miss Maelor." He said, his voice breaking.

Jaehaera's heart ached at the sight of her brother's distress. She could sense that there was more to his sadness than he was letting on. Despite her intuition that he wasn't telling her the whole truth, she chose not to press him further in that moment. Instead, she wrapped her arms around him in a comforting embrace.

"I miss him too." She whispered, holding him tightly.

"He was…avenged." That was all he said.

Still, she got no answer as to where their father was.

Yet.

———-

The next morning, she woke up to an empty bed.

Jaehaerys was already gone. When she asked Lilly, the servant only said something about a sparkly event about to happening. Confused, she noticed she was dressed in more luxurious clothes than usual, a rich velvet gown with intricate embroidery and a delicate lace collar, the kind she usually reserved for special occasions.

She remembered Jaehaerys's words from yesterday.

"He was…avenged." Her brother's words echoed in her mind.

Perhaps there was a grand feast planned to welcome her father back.

As she sat alone having breakfast, she wondered where everyone else was. The silence in the usually bustling dining hall felt eerie. Soon after, she was escorted to the great hall of the Red Keep.

She heard the tolling of a bell. It was loud, a sound she had heard before.

Entering the hall, she saw it was filled with people. Her grandmother and great-grandfather were there, but her brother was nowhere to be found. The room buzzed with a tense anticipation.

The heavy wooden doors creaked open, and she turned, expecting to see her father stride in. Instead, her brother walked through, dressed in unusually luxurious clothes, a sight that sent a shiver down her spine.

The world around her blurred as tears welled up in her eyes. A sharp ache in her chest that made it hard to breathe.

Now she knew.

Her brother stepped forward and knelt. Septon Eustace then approached, holding a slender golden crown adorned with three gemstones, a hasty attempt to replicate the Conciliator's crown.

"May the Warrior grant him courage and protect him in these perilous times."

Jaehaera collapsed on her knees, a heart-wrenching cry escaping her lips. Her body shook with sobs as she clutched at her chest, as if trying to hold together the pieces of her shattered heart.

"May the Smith grant him strength that he might bear this heavy burden."

Her grandmother rushed to her side, tears streaming down her face. She knelt beside Jaehaera, wrapping her arms around her tightly. She opened her mouth, but no words emerged, only a strangled sound of grief. She struggled to comfort the heartbroken princess, covering her mouth in an attempt to stifle her own sobs. Her arms held Jaehaera close, offering what little comfort she could through the shared agony.

"May the Crone show him the path he must walk, guided him through the dark places that lie ahead."

Jaehaera knew that if her brother was being crowned king, it could only mean one thing…

"In the light of the Seven, I now proclaim Jaehaerys of House Targaryen, Second of His Name, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, and Lord of the Seven Kingdoms!"

Septon Eustace then placed the crown on the prince's head.

Jaehaerys did not shed a tear. He had cried them all out yesterday.

…Her father was dead.

"Long May He Reign!"

———-