Dragons Bane || Cregan Stark

24

"A Targaryen must be seated on The Iron Throne." - Viserys Targaryen, House of the Dragon.

Year: 132ac

Location: King's Landing

The Red Keep felt quiet and heavy as if an entire army had laid upon 1 person.

With everything that happened earlier in the day, the shift in the atmosphere had changed completely.

Daemon Targaryen had killed Vaemond Velaryon for insulting The Crown's Heirs. Something Daemon found to be utterly unacceptable by any means to his standards. HIS. STANDARDS.

If Daemon had not done it, Dralarys would have.

There was no question to it.

Alicent Hightower understood that now. Daemon and Dralarys were one in the same just two different genders. Daemon was loud with his insults. Dralarys whispered them close so that no one else could hear. Daemon showed how violent he could be even if he was not triggered by it. Dralarys held her own, but push her enough, she would lash out.

Both of them are truly Dragons. Filled with Rage inside of their hearts. Hidden deep to the human eye. A genetic code that Alicent's children did not contain. That's why Aemond Targaryen had not acquired a Dragon of his own.

Alicent had stopped by to visit her son, Aemond, in the infirmary room that was on the same floor as the Great Hall.

Aemond was found sitting next to his wife while she slept with a cold wet towel over her head.

Alicent placed a hand over her son's shoulder, lightly squeezing it to comfort him. He had always been loyal to his mother since the very beginning. "How is she?"

"She's stable."

"And the babe?"

"Alive."

His mother nods. Everything had gone bad for them from the moment King Viserys Targaryen had entered the Great Hall. Although she did grow fond of Viserys, justice was never in their favor. Not while Rhaenyra or Dralarys lives. "Has she woken up at all?" Aemond shook his head. "I'll... go check on Viserys." Aemond nods to her, hearing her leave.

Dralarys may have been asleep, but her mind had been elsewhere in those moments.

The Kingdom of King's Landing was covered in ashes. The Iron Throne, destroyed. More than half of the city burned to the ground.

The Red Keep is quiet.

The Iron Throne, silent.

Dralarys Targaryen stood at the center of the Iron Throne. Bricks coming apart slowly from the top, shattering once they've landed at the bottom.

A small puddle of blood had been at the center of the Iron Hall.

When Dralarys had knelt down towards the blood, she could smell that this was not hers, but someone relating to her sister. Dralarys had always had a good sense of smell when it came towards blood. Although the reason for it was not as towards how or why.

Whose blood was this?

Footsteps walked inside of the Great Hall.

Turning around, Dralarys had seen Bran being pushed in a wheelchair by a man larger than him along with four others beside them. "Stop." Bran tells the man.

The Man is looking around. "What do you see? Is she here?"

The Taller one with the beard asks. "See what?"