ALL CHARACTER AND SETTING RIGHTS BELONG TO HBO. THIS IS A FANFICTION just for those who would love to save Queen Rhaenyra from the brutal fate that awaits her. Join Rhea on her journey as she attempts to alter the course of events. Rhea Cole's eyes were glued to the screen as she watched the latest episode of House of the Dragon. She had always been a die-hard fan of the Game of Thrones franchise, and this prequel series was no exception. But as she watched the events unfold, she couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness. She knew what was coming - the tragic fall of Rhaenyra Targaryen, her favorite character. As she drew closer to the TV to get a better look at the glitchy screen, a strange sensation washed over her. The room began to blur and fade away, replaced by a vivid landscape of rolling hills and towering mountains. Rhea stumbled backward, disoriented, and found herself standing in the middle of a bustling market square. People in medieval clothing hurried past her, speaking in a language she didn't understand. But as she looked down at her hands, she saw that they were no longer her own. They were smaller, paler, and adorned with intricate dragon-scale jewelry. A figure approached her - a woman with long, curly brown hair and a warm smile. "Rhaenerys, dear, what are you doing here?" she asked, eyeing Rhea's confusion. Rhea's mind reeled. And soon she realized that she had somehow become Rhaenerys Targaryen, daughter of Saera Targaryen. She was now a part of the world she had only ever known through screens and pages.
Rhaenyra's world was shattered when Rhaenys Targaryen, her aunt, arrived with devastating news: Viserys, her father and king, had passed away. But that was not the only blow - the Hightowers had kept his death a secret, using the time to usurp the throne and crown Aegon as the new king.
Rhaenys' words cut deep, and Rhaenyra was consumed by grief and anger. The stress was too much to bear, and she miscarried her child. The loss was a cruel twist of fate, and Rhaenyra was heartbroken.
The funeral of her child was a somber affair, with Rhaenyra and Daemon standing together, surrounded by their loyal supporters.
Then, Ser Erryk, the Kingsguard knight, approached Rhaenyra and bowed his head.
"I swear toward 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 honour."
Daemon took the crown from Ser Erryk, placed it on Rhaenyra's head and knelt, "my Queen." The gathered crowd bowed, acknowledging their queen. Rhaenyra's eyes shone with tears as she looked at Daemon, her husband and ally.
After the funeral, Rhaenyra and her council gathered in the Great Hall to discuss their next move.
"We must act swiftly," Daemon urged, his voice low and urgent. "The Hightowers will stop at nothing to keep Aegon on the throne."
Rhaenyra nodded, her jaw set. "We'll not be swayed by fear. We have the support of the Velaryons and the Vale. We'll rally the other houses and take back what's rightfully ours."
Just then, a guard announced the arrival of Otto Hightower, the late King's Hand.
Daemon Targaryen, accompanied by a few guards, went out to meet Otto Hightower. "Otto, what brings you here?" Daemon asked, his tone neutral.
"I've come to negotiate with Princess Rhaenyra," Otto replied, his eyes scanning the surroundings.
Daemon nodded and stepped aside. Otto looked up to see Rhaenyra descending upon him, riding her dragon Syrax. She dismounted, her presence commanding attention.
"Princess Rhaenyra," Otto began, but she cut him off.
"Actually, it's Queen Rhaenyra now," she said, her voice firm and authoritative. "And you, Otto, are a traitor. You swore an oath to my father, to serve and protect him, yet you betrayed him and usurped the throne."
Otto's face paled, but he recovered quickly. "I did what was best for the realm, Your Majesty. I—"
"Best for the realm?" Rhaenyra's laughter was cold. "You're unworthy of wearing the symbol of the King's Hand. You've dishonored everything my father stood for."
Otto took a step forward, his eyes pleading. "Queen Alicent remembers your friendship, Rhaenyra. She bids you to surrender, to let the realm carry on in peace."
Prince Daemon's face twisted in anger. "Ser Erryk, bring Otto to me," he growled. "I'll show him the true meaning of betrayal."
Syrax, sensing Rhaenyra's tension, let out a mighty roar, as if eager to unleash fury upon Otto.
"No," Rhaenyra said firmly, her voice rising above the dragon's roar. "King's Landing shall have its answer on the morrow."
With that, she turned and walked away, heading back into the castle. The others followed, Daemon casting one last, venomous glance at Otto before turning to join Rhaenyra.
Otto, his face pale, bowed and backed away, then turned and fled, his life spared.
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The great hall of the castle bustled with activity as Rhaenyra and her council gathered around a sprawling map of the Seven Kingdoms. Prince Daemon stood by her side, his eyes burning with intensity as he studied the map.
"We have more dragons than Aegon," Daemon said, his voice confident.
Rhaenyra's expression turned cautious. "When dragons fly to war, everything burns. I do not wish to rule over ashes and bones."
The argument escalated, with Daemon's agitation growing. "The enemy has declared war! What are you going to do about it, Rhaenyra?"
Rhaenyra's expression turned icy. "Leave us," she commanded, and the room was swiftly cleared of all but her most trusted advisors.
The argument continued, with Daemon's passion pitted against Rhaenyra's caution. But when Rhaenyra invoked their father's story of the Song of Ice and Fire, Daemon's expression faltered. He had never heard this tale, and Rhaenyra realized that Viserys had kept this secret from his brother.
Meanwhile, Princess Rhaenys sought out her husband, Lord Corlys, in his chambers. She informed him of the tense council meeting and the news of his brother Vaemond's death. After a heated discussion, Rhaenys persuaded Corlys to reaffirm their oath to support Rhaenyra's claim to the Iron Throne.
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The next morning, the council reconvened, with Prince Daemon noticeably absent. Lord Corlys, leaning on a crutch, still recovering from his injuries, joined them. Rhaenyra's eyes showed concern as she asked, "Lord Corlys, how fares your health?"
Lord Corlys smiled wryly. "I'll not be dancing anytime soon, Your Majesty, but I'll not let a little thing like a broken leg keep me from serving you."
He swept his gaze across the grandeur of the great hall, his eyes searching for a familiar face. "Where does Prince Daemon presently reside?" Queen Rhaenyra's sigh was laced with a hint of exasperation. "The prince is attending to pressing matters, ones that demand his singular attention." He nodded curtly, accepting the vague answer. "And what of Ser Harwin Strong? Does he ride for Dragonstone?" The queen's expression turned grave. "Aye, he comes, bearing the banner of House Strong. Their loyalty remains unwavering."
Rhaenyra's gaze lingered on him, aware of the few allies she had left. Lord Corlys seemed to sense her concern and nodded. "My family and fleet will support you, Your Majesty. We'll not let the Hightowers and their allies dictate the fate of the Seven Kingdoms."
Rhaenyra's face lit up with gratitude. "Thank you, Lord Corlys. Your support means the world to me."
With renewed hope, the council decided to send ravens to Lord Cregan Stark, Lady Jane Arryn, and Lord Borros Baratheon, reminding them of their sworn oaths and the cost of breaking them. But Prince Jacaerys proposed a bolder move. Here's the revised version:
But Prince Jacaerys proposed a bolder move. "Ravens are slow and uncertain, Mother. Send us with dragons, and we'll make sure our allies know our intentions."
Rhaenyra considered his words, then nodded. "Very well. Jacaerys, you'll go to Lady Jane Arryn and Lord Cregan Stark. Lucerys, you'll go to Lord Borros Baratheon."
The princes swore an oath to not engage in fighting and then embarked on their missions with their dragons.
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Rhaenerys whispered a rumor in the right ears, ensuring it reached Prince Daemon: "Aemond is heading for Dragonstone, with Vhagar by his side."
Daemon, believing the lie, swiftly returned to Dragonstone. With Daemon successfully distracted, Rhaenerys seized the opportunity. Under the cover of darkness, Rhaenerys headed into the caverns beneath the Dragonmont, her heart pounding in her chest. She began to sing the High Valyrian song "Hāros Bartossi" her voice low and soothing:
"Drakari pykiros Tīkummo jemiros
Yn lantyz bartossa
Saelot vāedis
Hen ñuhā elēnī:
Perzyssy vestretis
Se gēlȳn irūdaks
Ānogrose Perzyro udrȳssi
Ezīmptos laehossi
Hārossa letagon
Aōt vāedan
Hae mērot gierūli:
Se hāros bartossi
Prūmȳsa sōvīli
Gevī dāerī"
She entered the pitch darkness of a large cavern, from within which a dragon growled, before with a gout of fire, the beast revealed itself: Vermithor, the dragon once ridden by King Jaehaerys I Targaryen, unclaimed since the Old King's death. Angered by the intruder in his lair, Vermithor snarled and unleashed a long, sweeping breath of flame, encircling the pit. Then, he aimed his fiery wrath directly at Rhaenerys.
Undaunted, she dodged and weaved, avoiding the flames with a bravery that would put even the most seasoned dragonriders to shame.
As Vermithor paused, momentarily stunned by her fearlessness, Rhaenerys approached him, her voice calm and gentle:
"Lykiri, Dohaeras"
Vermithor regarded her, his fury slowly giving way to curiosity. Then, in a surprising move, he lowered his great head, accepting her claim.
Rhaenerys reached out, touching Vermithor's scaled cheek. She mounted him, feeling an surge of power and connection.
"We'll save Lucerys, together," she whispered, her voice filled with determination.
I want to thank everyone who is reading this. I hope you enjoy this book and that it fills the hole that the show is definitely gonna leave with all the character deaths. Between episode 7 and 8 there is a time skip of about 4 years so Next chapter we take a look at Rhaenerys and what she did in the last 3years before she claims Vermithor.