Chapter Text
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Chapter 35.
"She showed me how we must finish our enemies."
King’s Landing, 131 A.C.
For a brief moment, I allowed myself to simply close my eyes and disconnect from my own noisy mind, only to lose myself in the sensation of peace. A smile began to bloom on my lips just as the icy sea breeze, blowing directly from Blackwater Bay, kissed my face and swept my long hair back. I opened my arms, and my simple white dress swayed with the wind.
My bare feet kept me steady atop the same mountain where I married Daemon eighteen years ago.
In a short time, it will be two decades since we joined and intertwined our souls into one, through fire and blood, in a Valyrian wedding. Even so, I can feel the same emotions — the joy, the nervousness, the anticipation, the longing, the respect, the passion, the desire, and the love — warring within me, making my heart beat so fast and leaving me with a knot in my stomach. It was on this very peak that we exchanged sacred vows, and I lived one of the most beautiful days of my entire life.
I opened my eyes again, and Blackwater Bay lost itself on the horizon.
"We were married here as well," a gentle female voice suddenly commented. Although I should have turned to see who it was, I didn't move a single muscle. "It’s funny how I can still feel that not much time has passed since our union, even though it’s been over a hundred years and we are all dead." There was a certain biting humor in those last words.
The sky over Dragonstone remained the same: completely covered by thick gray clouds, without a single glimpse of blue or any ray of sunlight. It wasn’t raining. Despite this, the strong wind was frigid, and the waves crashed violently against the strip of black sand at the foot of the mountain. Behind us, the island's castle rose in all its glory and power of Targaryen ancestry.
"I..." The words died on the tip of my tongue when I turned around and saw who the woman was. My eyes widened instantly, and my heart raced in my chest. We stood staring at each other, the strong wind whipping our hair in every direction. "Queen Visenya," I managed to whisper and was about to kneel, but I stopped at a negative sign from her.
I expected to meet the Goddess Syrax in my dream, not the Warrior Queen herself.
"You look a bit incredulous, Dragon Princess." She tilted her head slightly to the side, a gentle smile playing on her lips. The Queen watched me with a certain curiosity mixed with satisfaction. Although her posture was not at all hostile, she exuded so much power and danger. "Our Gods were very wise to listen to the words of the Goddess Syrax and agree that she should take you as her protégé. You have the true blood running through your veins, Rhaenyra."
I felt my face flush with shyness and pride; after all, it was the Warrior Queen herself, Visenya Targaryen, saying such words. As if she knew exactly what was going through my mind, her smile became wider and more playful. The heat traveled down to my neck, and I also felt the tips of my ears burn.
"You seem very surprised by what I just said, my child." With her hands clasped behind her back, the Queen walked until she stood beside me, and her gaze fixed on the horizon. "But you needn't be; I only speak the truth to you, without any kind of flattery."
I looked back at the horizon as well, the wind kissing my face and throwing my hair back. So far from the coast, the sea and sky seemed to meet in a perfect straight line.
"Sometimes, I think I will fail," I whispered, completely still and with my voice almost inaudible. I felt her curious and serious gaze fixed on my face, although I refused to look at her now. "That I will disappoint my husband, my children, my family, my people, and my Gods, especially the Goddess Syrax, who has protected and guided me for so long." My vision began to blur with unshed tears, so I took a deep breath.
There was a brief silence between the two of us, only the sound of the sea and the waves around us.
"A great and decisive weight has hung over your shoulders since your birth," the Warrior Queen commented, her voice low and her gaze turned once more to the horizon. "Many would not endure this burden given by our Gods, my child."
I glanced at her from the corner of my eye and was surprised by how beautiful she was. The paintings in the Red Keep and Dragonstone Castle did not do her beauty justice. The Warrior Queen carried a physical perfection that reminded me of the Goddess Syrax herself: long, silver braided hair, vivid purple eyes, translucent white skin, and a fierce smile. She was a tall woman and exuded power and danger just by her posture.
The fact that Queen Visenya was wearing a black suit of Valyrian steel armor—the same one I stole years ago for the War for the Stepstones—and had Dark Sister hanging at her waist further heightened her aura of ferocity and beauty.
What will Daemon say when he finds out I was with the Warrior Queen in my dream?
I had to suppress a smile, though I began to feel a bit presumptuous at the thought. My husband would be outraged and marveled at the same time; after all, the Warrior Queen was our favorite among the three Conquerors.
"Do you know why our family crest is a three-headed dragon?" She turned to me suddenly and offered a small smile. Still enchanted by her beauty, I nodded in the affirmative. "The three-headed dragon was created to represent Aegon and his two sister-wives." Amused, she rolled her eyes. "What nonsense."
Caught by surprise, I furrowed my brow and tried to recall if I had read about this in her journals. Despite the effort, I couldn't remember anything.
"No?" I tilted my head slightly to the side, observing her with even more curiosity and fascination. She slowly shook her head. "Then, what is the true meaning, Your Grace?" I knitted my eyebrows.
A slow smile illuminated the delicate yet wild features of the Warrior Queen.
"Call me only Visenya, Dragon Princess," she requested, gesturing with her hand toward the left. "Walk with me, please."
Even as I burned with curiosity, I contained the impulse to question her about the reason I was dreaming of her instead of the Goddess Syrax. So, I continued walking in silence, slightly behind her. Visenya walked with tranquility, her hands behind her back and a composed posture. One could tell by the way she acted and carried herself that she should have been a Ruling Queen after the Conquest. Aegon I was a great king. However, the right of primogeniture belonged to Visenya, for to us, the true Valyrians, the one who inherited was the one who was born first.
"Speak, Rhaenyra," Visenya murmured, surprising me. She didn't stop walking, nor did she look back. "I can almost hear your brain burning from thinking about something in particular." There was amusement in her soft voice.
With the strong wind messing up my hair, I quickened my pace to catch up and began walking beside her. She tilted her head toward me and smiled, which made my heart race a little. Truly, Daemon would be livid when he found out I had met the Warrior Queen.
"After conquering Westeros, did you not think of claiming your right as the firstborn and sitting on the Iron Throne as the Ruling Queen instead of being a Consort, Visenya?" I questioned, deeply curious, and stopped walking abruptly. She stopped as well. I licked my lips and continued in a tone louder than the strong wind: "In Old Valyria, the sex between one's legs never mattered, and I know how the three of you were so devoted to our ancestry."
Averting her gaze from mine for a moment, Visenya sighed deeply and seemed to grow pensive.
I bit my lower lip and began to regret opening my mouth, as I might have crossed an invisible line and said something that upset her. I tried to remain still and concentrated on feeling the cold ground beneath my bare feet. Although it was a dream, I could smell the vivid and invigorating scent of sulfur, ash, and the salt of the sea in the air. Despite this, it was not possible to hear a single roar or the powerful beat of any dragon's wings.
"Mind, heart, and soul," she said abruptly, looking back at me. I furrowed my brow but remained silent, waiting for her to explain further. "The Targaryen family crest with a three-headed dragon means mind, heart, and soul. Not that rubbish about Aegon and his two sister-wives." She rolled her eyes with disdain. "I didn't use my position as the firstborn to sit on the Iron Throne because I knew those damn Andals needed a man as the first King of the Seven Kingdoms."
I grimaced and thought of my own situation.
Viserys kept me as his named Heir and had no plans to make Baelon his successor, as the damn Greens had planned in recent years. Despite having stayed away in King's Landing with Daemon and our family, we managed to build and maintain bonds of loyalty with some great Noble Houses and regions on our side, such as Tully, Harrenhal, the Vale, High Tide, and the North. This was possible through strategic marriages, trade agreements, financial aid, the taking of squires for Daemon, and my own influence as the Crown Princess.
"So, we decided that Aegon would be the Ruler while Rhaenys and I would carry the title of Consort to our brother-husband. It was a terrible choice we made, Rhaenyra." Her harsh and angry tone brought me back to reality. Visenya knitted her brows deeply, carrying a dark look on her face, which was contorted into a slight scowl of disgust. "Making my brother-husband the King made him bend too much to those damn Andals and act leniently with the Faith of the Seven."
Visenya began walking again, and I followed her in silence.
"While that idiot Aegon bent to them, those cunts..." she continued, irritated. I had to contain a sudden urge to laugh, for her cursing reminded me of Daemon. "They secretly condemned everything we were—our customs, our Valyrian blood, rituals, dragons, incest, sexuality, magic, and our Gods." She let out a bitter, cold laugh. "To this day, the Faith of the Seven preaches that women must be submissive; they hate bastards, a man who lies with another man or a woman with another woman, and they demonize all religions except their own."
Visenya stopped walking and turned around, surprising me with how furious she looked.
"I had to contain the urge to slit Aegon's throat when that idiot dated the beginning of his reign from the day the High Septon anointed him in the Starry Sept." Her hand found its way to the hilt of Dark Sister. "Rhaenys and I should have burned that lot of cunts in Oldtown along with the damned Hightower, the Citadel, and the Starry Sept. However, we were stopped by Aegon when the High Septon had a vision of what we would do, after locking himself away for seven days and seven nights."
The frigid wind howled between us just as I recoiled from the cold, rubbing my hands over my arms in search of some warmth. I wore only a thin, simple white dress and was barefoot. Visenya, noticing my state, softened her irritated expression into something gentler and removed her heavy cloak. I did not hesitate to put it on and sighed softly as the warmth enveloped me.
"Forgive me, Rhaenyra." She smiled kindly. "I ended up speaking too much."
I shook my head with a small smile.
"It’s alright, Visenya."
"Well, come." She gestured with her hand, and we resumed our walk. "The fact that Aegon bent too much to the Andals and converted to their Faith is one of the main reasons for the problems you and your family face so many years after the Conquest. You see, when he acted with leniency to ensure a false peace between the House of the Dragon and these people, we ended up putting more power into the hands of those serpents than we could have ever imagined."
Little by little, we left the mountaintop behind, and Dragonstone Castle drew closer. The imposing structure, made of black stone and high towers, was exactly identical to reality. However, in my dream, it seemed more mystical, powerful, and majestic.
"Why mind, heart, and soul?" I questioned a moment later, when we finally began to walk upon the grass. I noticed that the Warrior Queen was leading me toward Aegon’s Garden. "Those are three very specific words." I pulled the cloak tighter around me.
The shadow of a melancholy smile appeared on her face.
"As foolish as he was, and despite the way he bent to the cunts of our time, Aegon was the mind, Rhaenys the heart, and I the soul of our relationship, of our marriage." Her voice was low and longing as she seemed to relive the past. "Contrary to what everyone believes to this day, he did not marry me out of duty and her out of love. We joined, by the fire and blood of our house, because we loved each other and were twin flames."
Despite having already read the truth in her journals, it was different and deeper to hear such words coming from the mouth of the very person who wrote them. We walked a bit longer in silence, each lost in our own thoughts, and finally reached Aegon's Garden. We sat down on a wooden bench.
"I never cared what people thought of our relationship; after all, only what the three of us knew mattered." Visenya turned to me with a sad gaze. "We conquered Westeros for a greater good, but it broke us too." She gave a half-hearted smile. "Aegon as King and his generosity toward the Faith was something I never accepted. However, the greatest breaking point between the three of us was when our wife died."
There was a pause between us. I wanted to hug her, but I restrained myself, merely watching her and waiting for her to speak again.
"I already had Maegor and she had Aenys with our husband, but we wanted a child of our own, so I studied and managed to create a fertility ritual between two women." Her face grew more melancholy. "We had our girl, our Maelys. When we lost her to a premature death, we both broke. After that, Rhaenys and our half-brother left for Dorne, where she and Meraxes were killed."
Tears flooded her eyes and mine. Overcome by compassion and the shared feeling of being a mother, I held her hand in mine and squeezed it.
"She was our heart and, with her death, the mind and soul broke as well." Tears rolled down her face. "I distanced myself from Aegon and was consumed by pain, fury, grief, and hatred. I wanted to kill them all with Vhagar, but he would not allow it." She let out a laugh devoid of any humor. "Retaliation on our part could have caused a war that shouldn't have existed so soon after our conquest."
"I am so sorry, Visenya," I whispered, my voice thick and a knot forming in my throat. Tears still blurred my vision. "As a mother, I say: I am so sorry for your loss, and for Rhaenys's."
She wiped away her tears and shook her head, sniffing quietly. Even the legendary Warrior Queen, the rider of Vhagar, Visenya Targaryen, was "human" and showed emotion. Finally, she took a deep breath and turned to face me, her eyes bright and reddened.
"Thank you, my child." A faint smile appeared on her flushed face, and she squeezed my hands with hers. "The Gods told me that you and the Warrior Prince named one daughter Visenya and another Maelys."
I nodded.
"Yes, my Heir and successor is named Visenya, and my youngest, my little pest..." My heart warmed, and a slight smile broke through. "She is named Maelys in honor of your daughter, Your Grace. When I read about her in the journals and realized how her existence had been erased from history, I knew for certain I would name a daughter after her."
"Thank you for both names, Rhaenyra. It means a great deal to me." Visenya's face lit up with an amused thought. "Is Tennebris still so grumpy? He hatched in my Maelys's cradle and was always very cranky."
Amused, I rolled my eyes and grumbled:
"Old age is making him even grumpier, but he and Visenya are soulmates." I let out a little laugh.
She laughed too, and we fell into a calmer stillness.
Aegon’s Garden, near the Dragon's Tail, felt like a piece of paradise untouched by human hands on Dragonstone. There were beautiful tall trees on all sides, wild roses—of diverse species, colors, and scents—a variety of flowers, and the grass was as completely green as an emerald.
There was a pleasant scent of pine in the air.
"Maelys died at two name-days old, and we thought it was a terrible flu that took her from us." There was so much pain in her voice.
Visenya raised her head toward the ashen sky and was lost in thought for a moment.
"I was already a witch, but I wasn't as skilled in potions geared toward healing, and the despair of losing her began to cloud my mind, so I couldn't think coherently. The supposed flu killed her within seven days, and not a single damned Maester knew how to help her. The most ironic part is that she fell ill and died so abruptly in the very same year those rats began to walk among us."
A cold shiver ran up my spine at the same time as my stomach churned and I felt the urge to vomit. I remained motionless, looking at her profile and feeling all the pieces finally clicking into place. I wanted to scream in rage, punch anything in sight, climb onto Syrax's back, and turn Oldtown into a pile of flames and ash.
"Your daughter... My mother..." Rage and tears fought within me while a familiar pain of loss ravaged my chest. It was as if I were losing my mother all over again. "All the other Targaryens who died so suddenly, from unexpected causes... Every dead baby? Miscarriage? Oh, Gods!" I took a deep breath.
Tears fell silently down my cheeks. The hole in my chest, the same one that appeared the day I lost my mother, opened once more and began to bleed violently.
"Yes," she whispered, melancholy. "I was so lost in the pain and grief of losing my daughter and my wife, only a few moons apart, that I never realized it. In truth, I can say that I began to lose my mind, Rhaenyra." Her tearful gaze met mine. "I delved deeper into dark magics and gradually lost my own fire over time until I died."
The wind whipped through my hair and through the leaves of the trees, flowers, and bushes.
"It is true that the weight and responsibility hanging over your shoulders are enormous, my child." Her hand covered mine again. I raised my head and was met with a gentle expression, warm eyes, and a confident smile. "Unlike the three of us, you carry the real meaning of the Three-Headed Dragon. An intelligent and sharp mind. A kind and just heart. A warrior soul bathed in the fire and blood of the Targaryens."
My eyes widened, stunned.
"Your husband, the Rogue Prince, also carries the same as you," she continued. "The two of you, you and he, are on the right path; our Gods are growing stronger, and our world is no longer destined to have dragons dancing, Targaryens dying one after another, and the House of the Dragon on the brink of its own fall. However, the Three-Headed Serpent must be killed, and its followers as well."
I furrowed my brow.
"Three-Headed Serpent? What do you mean, Visenya?"
The Warrior Queen offered a gentle smile and gestured for me to look at the sky. I did as she asked and saw nothing beyond the usual ashen tone.
"That cunt Aegon should not have stopped me from burning the Hightower, the Citadel, and the Starry Sept, Dragon Princess."
I turned my head to the left, and Visenya was no longer sitting beside me. In fact, she was nowhere to be found in Aegon's Garden.
"Visenya?" I called out, standing up and looking around as desperation grew in my chest. There was not the slightest sign of her. "Visenya?!" I screamed.
"Rhaenyra? My passion? Please, wake up!"
Abruptly, my eyes snapped open, and Daemon’s worried face was the first thing I saw as I woke to my world. He seemed immediately relieved and sighed softly, though his thick brows were still furrowed and his lips were pressed into a straight line. I tried to open my mouth to say something; however, my tongue felt too heavy. In truth, I still felt confused, my mind oscillating between reality and the vivid dream I had had only moments ago.
"My love, what happened?" my husband whispered, a bit agonized.
He propped himself up on one elbow and rested his free hand on my tear-stained cheek. I took a deep breath, feeling my heart still racing and a sense of desperation in my chest. I ended up crawling into Daemon's arms and relaxed against the protective warmth of his body, tucking my face into his neck. Instantly, he held me tight.
"I woke up to you crying and calling for Visenya, Rhaenyra," he murmured, his voice softer. "I kept calling you, but you wouldn't wake up." His embrace tightened around me. Our chambers were lit by the flickering lights of candles, and the fire in the hearth warmed the room, bringing a sense of comfort and security. "Your dream seemed so restless."
At first, I remained silent, completely still in his arms, feeling the heat of his naked skin against mine.
"It wasn't our Visenya I dreamed of." I lifted my head from his neck and looked him in the eyes. My voice was almost inaudible even to myself. "The Valyrian Gods sent me another dream, kepus." I licked my lips as my heart began to race once more. Daemon just watched me, his brow slightly furrowed and confusion present in his purple eyes."This time, it wasn't the Goddess Syrax waiting for me, but Queen Visenya Targaryen."
Daemon’s gaze grew more surprised.
"The Warrior Queen?"
I nodded.
"The very one." I placed a hand over the left side of his chest, where his heart beat furiously. "She..." A slow and savage smile began to grow on my lips. "She showed me how we must finish our enemies, Daemon."
♛
By Dhaerys Targaryen.
Despite needing a bath to wash the soot and the scent of dragon from my body after spending several hours flying with Dreamfyre, my feet ended up leading me toward the training grounds. The sun had not yet reached its peak in the bluish sky; therefore, my brother and my nephews should still be training.
My lips curved into a smile when I finally reached the training field.
"Get up, Aemon!" Daemon demanded, serious. My nephew was lying on the dusty ground, a slight grimace of pain on his face. Visenya wore an arrogant smile and stared at her brother, amused. "Don't lower your guard just because you knocked your brother down, Visenya," he continued as the boy stood up and gripped his sword again. "Fight!"
Aemon charged with a furious strike, but Visenya neutralized it in mid-air with firm arms and steady hands on the hilt of her sword. The sound of steel against steel echoed through the training grounds. They looked at each other, and she flashed an arrogant smile—the same one her father has displayed his entire life. With agility, she dodged and launched a series of strong, fast, and fierce blows. My nephew tried to counter-attack; however, he could only manage to defend himself as he took blind steps backward.
My niece was a woman slightly taller than average, though still much smaller than a man, thinner, and lacking male physical strength. However, she knew how to transform this "disadvantage" into an advantage during a fight, constantly surprising her adversaries. Her skill as a warrior was refined by her training with Daemon and Rhaenyra, who taught her to treat the sword as an extension of her own arm.
"Defend yourself, Aemon!" Daemon bellowed, standing at the edge of the training grounds.
With a fierce and determined look, Aemon dodged and countered, charging at Visenya with a vertical strike. The blows became more intense and ferocious, the sound of clashing blades echoing through the training field, accompanied by Daemon's shouts.
"Visenya has piqued his interest, muña," my daughter's whisper sounded to my right. "From what I’ve heard, since we arrived, he doesn't interact with anyone other than Aegon, his younger siblings, and his old nurse."
In a distant corner of the grounds, my nephew Aemond, the One-Eyed Prince, watched the training between Aemon and Visenya. The boy wasn't close to anyone and didn't seem inclined to exchange a single word with anyone present. On the contrary, he kept his distance, merely observing with his one eye. He was good at disguising and hiding his emotions, but Daella was right.
"That could be a problem." My brow furrowed, reflecting the unease that washed over me as I observed his silent admiration for my eldest niece. Daella took a few steps forward and turned her head toward me. "We will have to keep an eye on the boy."
She gazed at Visenya, who had won yet another bout, and then fixed her eyes on Aemond.
"Do you think he will try to get close because his grandfather and mother ordered it?" She looked back at me, tapping her fingers on the railing of the high balcony. "To them, Visenya is an unwed maiden and the future Heir to the Iron Throne after Aunt Nyra succeeds the King."
My internal restlessness began to gradually increase.
"It is a strong possibility, daughter," I murmured. "Since Baelon and Aegon are already married."
Daella looked at the One-Eyed Prince again.
"But, what if he falls in love with another woman first?" A slow and cunning smile began to appear on my daughter's face. I raised an eyebrow at her. "I am also a beautiful and unwed maiden, muña."
I sighed, already imagining the future headache that would come when my wife discovered our daughter's mischief.
"Daella..."
"Muña..." She made a pouting, wheedling face. "I will keep him busy and away from Visenya. Besides, he is handsome." Her gaze returned to Aemond.
I sighed again.
"But you will be the one to tell your mother about your plan, Daella."
My daughter's smile made me certain that nothing good would come from that plan to conquer the One-Eyed Prince.
♛