Storm Song || OUAT x GoT [ON HOLD]

𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔭𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔯𝔱𝔢𝔢𝔫

the dagger

storybrooke, maine

– RHAENYRA WAS READING AT THE COUNTER WHEN DAVID RETURNED TO THE LOFT. "You took him to the bus stop?" she didn't even look up from her page as she asked. There was really no need.

"Yeah?"

"Did he argue?"

"A little..."

"Mm. And did you see him get on the bus?"

"Well... not exactly."

She snorted, flipping to the next page. "Charming, even if I was blind, deaf and stupid, which I guarantee you I am not, I could tell you he skipped."

"What? Are you sure??"

"Mhm."

He frowned. Rhaenyra was never so easy going when it came to her brother's safety. So what was this quiet, calm thing all about? "You're not worried? At all?"

"He'll turn up." She pointed out. "And since Regina is no longer a threat, there's really nothing to worry about."

"What about Gold?"

"What about Gold?" she sounded incredulous.

"He likes having his hands on leverage."

"Gold already has a deal hanging over my head." she informed him. "He has all the leverage he needs stowed away for whenever he feels like using it."

"You made a deal with Rumplestiltskin?" He checked, not sure if he'd heard right. Rhaenyra seemed entirely too intelligent and suspicious to ever put herself in a position like that.

"It was before the curse. I was stupid and desperate and he caught me off-guard. I had to know If I could get back to the land I came from. You know what that feels like well enough, do you not?"

"Did you have a kingdom or something to look after? Being a princess and all?"

She couldn't help but laugh at that. "You know, my mother spent years of her life chasing the throne that had been stolen from her father. She died because of that throne. I have no interest in sitting atop the Wheel."

David didn't know what 'the Wheel' was, but he got the idea. Rhaenyra did not want a throne. She didn't want to rule. Hell, for the amount of times he could count one one hand that she acted like one, he'd be surprised if she even actually wanted her title of Princess. "I'm sorry about your mother-"

"This isn't a pity-me story." She informed him. "This is me explaining to you why I don't give half a shit about whose position is higher or who's the 'rightful ruler' or who is more powerful than who. I'm me. I'm going to continue to be me and do the things that I do. Anyone who takes issue with that can fuck right off, titles be damned."

Later that day, Rhaenyra received a call from Regina, who'd been stood up by Henry. Probably a neat little trick to get her out of her office, but why? There was nothing of interest in there... except the skeleton keys. And knowing Henry, he was probably following his book. She could think of only one place in the book that would require a skeleton key. Just as she'd suspected, they found him in Regina's vault, saved him from some nicely boxed snakes and brought him back home. He reeeally needs to work on his listening skills. Rhaenyra mused.

With David often busy in the mines and Henry following him down there, there wasn't a hell of a lot for the Dragon Princess to do with her days. When Storybrooke finally began to slip back into some strange form of normal, she started working at the diner again. She didn't bother with school anymore, but often canvassed the town on dragonback when she was feeling down or bored. It seemed most of Starybrooke's residents were also getting more and more used to seeing a dragon about now too.

When she was sorting through her things one day, that was when she realised what important object was missing. She tried, for a little while, to summon it, but all she wound up with was empty hands and slightly cramped fingertips from stretching them through the air so determinedly. She could guess where it was. So many lost things, important things from all of their pasts seemed to wind up there.

She didn't enjoy the idea of going in there for it, and she certainly didn't want to make any deals. And yet still... this was too important, she decided, regretting that only slightly when she actually stood before the shop. She steeled herself, and pushed the door open. She was alone for now, and her eyes scanned each display case with care.

"What can I help you with, dearie?"

She straightened, staring the man before her dead in the eye, revealing not a sliver of emotion. "I figured this place would have protective enchantments. I didn't realise they would keep me from retrieving what is mine. Though, I suppose I should have expected as much from you."

"Lost something, have we?" He chuckled. "Well, I'd be more careful about taking that nasty tone with me."

She cocked a brow. "You have so much more to lose than I do right now, I really don't think you want to go down that road."

He narrowed his eyes, clearly not pleased about being threatened. After a moment, he finally spoke. "This what you're after?" A dagger suddenly appeared in his hand. It didn't look like much, just dark silver, a little bit of gold banding around the hilt. Her hand practically ached to hold it again.

"What do you want?"

"Fire." a bottle appeared in his other hand. "You have no idea how valuable magic from another land can be, and your fire magic is something quite special, dearie."

For a second, Rhaenyra's mind was a maelstrom of all the terrible things he could likely do with this... but she wanted- she needed that dagger back. "Deal."

king's landing, westeros

– THE THRONE WAS NOW A MOLTEN PILE OF METAL THAT EDGED ACROSS THE DAIS. Drogon seemed satisfied with his work, Jon was utterly shocked, and Rhaenyra was still in tears, holding her mother.

When Jon attempted to approach again, she was weaponless, so she did the only thing she could. She tore the dagger from Daenerys' heart and brandished it at the Northman with a wild and terrifying light in her eyes.

"Rhaenyra..." He said quietly, almost sounding frightened. He raised his hands to show he meant no harm. But the damage is already done. She thought. "Please, let me help you. Your mother did a terrible thing, but we can take care of-"

"Shut up!" she hissed. "Don't talk about her!" Slowly, carefully, dress bloodstained and snow crunching underfoot, Rhaenyra backed towards Drogon. The blade that dripped with her mother's blood, red so deep it looked black as it spattered against the white ground, was still pointed at Jon. When she was close enough to the dragon, she turned and ran, climbing his spikes as fast as she could amidst Jon's protests. There was nothing he could do but watch as the beast took Daenerys in his claws as he lifted into the sky, taking the last Targaryens far from the reach of Westeros' cruelty.