From Storms to Thrones (Part 1)

Chapter 24: After the Smoke Clears

Every eye turned to her, and the respect and awe in the soldiers' gazes were palpable.

Rhaenyra stepped forward, her presence commanding as she moved to the center of the gathered soldiers and lords. The air was thick with anticipation, every eye fixed on her as the battlefield fell into a tense silence. The shadows of the dragons circling above moved across the scorched earth, a reminder of the power that had been unleashed under her command.

"Defenders of Rooks Rest," Rhaenyra began, her voice clear and steady, resonating across the hushed crowd. "Today, we have dealt a heavy blow to our enemies. Aegon the Usurper failed today. He and his dragon fell from the skies, brought low by our might. Whether he lives, we do not yet know."

Her words hung in the air, a stark reminder of the war still raging. The men listened intently, their faces a mix of relief, exhaustion, and a newfound determination.

"But make no mistake, alive or dead, the Greens will never surrender the throne they stole from me," Rhaenyra continued, her voice hardening with resolve. "They will come again, with fire and blood, because they know nothing else. But hear me now—I did not want this war. I wanted peace, I wanted to rule with justice, but war has come, and I have come with it."

A murmur of agreement rippled through the crowd, the soldiers straightening as her words ignited something within them—a shared purpose, a collective resolve.

"We fight not because we seek power, but because it has been taken from us," Rhaenyra said, her gaze sweeping across the faces before her. "We fight for our homes, for our families, for the future we were promised. The Greens have shown us that they will stop at nothing to hold onto their stolen crown, but let them see that we will stop at nothing to take it back."

The soldiers' eyes gleamed with a mixture of pride and fierce determination. They had been pushed to the brink, but Rhaenyra's words were pulling them back, rekindling the fire within.

"This war is far from over," Rhaenyra declared, her voice rising with each word. "There will be more battles, more bloodshed, but know this—I will stand with you. I will fight beside you. Together, we will reclaim what is ours, and we will restore the rightful rule of House Targaryen!"

The crowd erupted into cheers, their voices a thunderous response to her rallying cry. The sound of their support filled the air, echoing across the battlefield like a promise—a promise to fight, to endure, and to win—for their Queen.

***

The great hall of Rook's Rest was a far cry from the battlefield we had just left behind. While the land and outer perimeter were devastated by the battle, the castle was barely touched.  The air was filled with the lively sounds of music and laughter, the clinking of pitchers filled with ale and wine, and the chatter of men and women reveling in the victory we had hard-won. The scent of roasted meats and fresh bread mingled with the earthy aroma of burning wood from the great hearth, casting a warm, inviting glow across the room.

We were out of our armor now, our battle-worn bodies treated by the maester and finally given a moment to breathe. I sat at the head table with Rhaenyra, Rhaenys, and Baela, the remnants of the day's struggle still clinging to us in the form of dirt and ash, but the worst of our injuries had been seen to. My shoulder had been popped back into place with a sharp but mercifully brief pain. The moment it snapped back in, the relief was almost overwhelming, leaving behind only a dull ache. My neck was bandaged, a cooling salve spread over the burn where Vhagar's flames had come too close.

I glanced around the hall, taking in the scene. The once somber and tense atmosphere had transformed into one of celebration. Men and women, soldiers and servants alike, were dancing to the lively tunes played by a group of musicians in the corner. Their instruments filled the room with melodies that lifted the spirits and chased away the lingering shadows of battle.