Cerys Targaryen. Who is she? What will she leave behind, what legacy?
She could have been remembered as the Rightful Heir to the Iron Throne, the first Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, but was instead written into history as the Queen Who Never Was. An echo of Maegor's cruelty.
Her father's decision did not surprise Cerys, but this does not mean that she stopped looking for allies. Viserys Targaryen did not change his decision, without realizing it, starting a new slow-motion war. In a month, a year or even decades, it will happen.
Cerys did not want discord in her family, but when war comes to these lands, she will squeeze all the good she can out of this situation.
But these are concerns of the future; now the kingdom is drowning in discontent, which can develop into a rebellion. The War in the Stepstones hit the treasury hard, and the Master of Coin had to raise taxes on land and livestock. Of course people were unhappy. The civil war was breathing down their necks. The common people did not care about the words of some lords, they needed actions.
"Your Grace," Cerys entered her father's chambers without waiting for his permission. Viserys turned around, raising his eyebrows in surprise.
His guards followed the princess in, but he waved his hand, signaling them to leave them.
"I consider it my duty to tell you that many do not share your position on the war."
"Cerys—" The man sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.
"And neither do I." She raised her head high. "People think you should have stepped in and ended this."
"I've been suffocating in politics all day, please don't start putting pressure on me." Viserys placed the cup of wine next to the piece of paper and the girl changed her focus to it.
"What is this?"
"A letter. From Vaemond Velaryon."
"The Sea Snake's brother?" Cerys frowned.
"Yes. He fights in the Stepstones with the others."
She took the yellowed paper in her hands, quickly running her eyes over the neatly written black letters. The princess's heart sank when she read to the end.
"This is a plea for aid." She turned her dull gaze to her father. Tears stung her eyes, fear for Daemon scratched her insides. "Then why not send it?"
"Because this war was started by two rebels who were not happy with my decisions. If I help them, what will that say about me as a king?"
"That you are very kind and love your brother." Cerys' gaze seemed to eat a hole in Viserys' soul. Please father, don't make a mistake.
"If you really believe this, my daughter, then you are very generous."
She pursed her lips.
"What do you believe, Your Grace?" He remained silent and the girl moved on the chair closer to the edge, wanting to convey the following words to her father correctly. "Do you want me to tell you something that no lord or Hand will tell you?" The Targaryen man glanced at her briefly before continuing to pour himself some wine. "You must burn them all. Impale the heads of the traitors along the beach on a pike. You must make them afraid to make the same mistake again."
"Only a fool rules by fear, Cerys." He grinned condescendingly, as if she were a stupid child. "The king must be respected."
"Do you think they respect you?" Cerys almost laughed. "No, father. The ships of a man who is respected will not be attacked."
Viserys looked at her with the eyes of an executioner, but she didn't even flinch.
"Then I ask a simpler question. Is it better for the realm if the Crabfeeder thrives, or is vanquished?"
He sighed heavily as his shoulders began to shake with laughter. The man shook his head and Cerys gritted her teeth.
"You are still too immature. Just like your ideas." Viserys patted her on the shoulder as he stood up from his chair. "I will not anger the Free Cities by pleasing Daemon."
"If one day a box with his head turns up on your doorstep, will you say the same?" She turned to her father.
"You need to have a little more faith in the gods, Cerys." Viserys smiled, as if explaining the most obvious things. "And then the Seven will reward us for our patience."
The girl's lips pressed into one thin line and she nodded.
"Of course, Your Grace."
He walked up to Cerys , squeezing her shoulder with one hand. "I'm glad you listened to me, my daughter." She smiled.
But as soon as her father hid her behind her back, the Targaryen girl's face lost all emotion. She nervously played with the rings on her fingers and cast one more glance in Viserys' direction before leaving his chambers.
Let the old people and children rely on the gods, she will administer justice now.
With each new step, the picture of the Crabfeeder cutting off Daemon's head became brighter and clearer in Cerys's head. She could literally smell the salty waves and drops of blood splashing on her face. She could hear her uncle's head rolling towards her feet, bouncing off the stones with a thud.
It almost swallowed up the girl, took all her thoughts with it, when a quiet voice was heard in her head.
No.
She won't allow it.
The Moonborn's fiery breath could melt stone and Cerys would burn down every cave if it meant Craghas Drahar would crawl out of his hiding place like a rat when you warm up their cage.
The sun was just rising from the horizon when she approached the hill where the white dragon slept. He shook his body, getting rid of leaves, grass and dirt. His huge muzzle came sharply towards his rider before stopping just a few centimeters away from her. The Moonborn exhaled through his nostrils, blowing a stream of wind across Cerys' face. But there was no fear or doubt in her eyes, only determination.
"The time has come."
The dragon roared, raising its head high up. The girl's lips curved into a loving smile.
Her three-headed dragon brooch sparkled in the light as they rose into the sky. The air was cold and at first squeezed the lungs, but over time, Cerys' body relaxed and the bonds fell off.
For a while, all that the princess could see was the endless depths of the Narrow Sea, which was sometimes accompanied by green islands of land. But among the cries of the seagulls, she managed to hear the clank of steel. Her grip on the handle of the saddle tightened and Cerys directed her dragon higher so that they were completely hidden behind the clouds. But even there, a few meters above the sky, she could hear the smell of burnt wood from ships passing by. Rage boiled inside her, but Cerys did not allow the scream to leave her throat. She swallowed the anger and hatred that rushed out, instead fueling her rage and madness.
Drahar felt that a catch was somewhere close, but Daemon Targaryen, who laid down his arms in front of him, dulled his vigilance. His men surrounded the man, taking his sword away. But neither the mercenaries nor the dragons were visible. He let his self-confidence blind him. And when one of his followers raised his steel to strike, a huge shadow covered Drahar's warriors. A giant beast appeared from the clouds, giving out a deafening roar, and the Crabfeeder managed to hear Daemon Targaryen's laughter through it. He laughed like a madman.
"Dragon! Run!" The screams forced Drahar to go deeper into the cave, hiding in the shadows. After all, Targaryen dragons couldn't melt stone.
Right?
The fire licked the men's bodies, consuming them one after another. But it was not the screams of these soldiers that caused goosebumps, but the silence of the dragon rider. The Crabfeeder could only see silver hair, but he could barely see even that on the back of the giant beast. It was as if the artist had made a mistake and there was a tiny but noticeable stain on the white canvas.
The men who managed to reach the caves allowed themselves a sigh of relief, which was hidden in the orange flame. The stone began to melt, trapping them. It melted and flowed like the wine that servants poured into the cups of their lords.
"Come on Drahar!" A woman's voice made him immediately turn his head. "Come out you fucking coward! I'll bring your bastard head to my father as a gift!" Cerys almost sang, despite the fact that anger disfigured her face.
She caught the eye of the Crabfeeder and Drahar was ready to swear by the memory of his mother that he saw the Targaryen girl smiling. Her gaze was like that of a hunter who had caught his prey. This is how they look at someone who is about to be killed.
The Seasmoke that flew next to her howled in fear. It was easy for the Moonborn to bite it in half. In fact, the beast didn't even pay attention to him, preferring to burn Drahar's people. And only when only the ashes of memories remained of his glorious army, the dragon fire subsided.
Cerys dismounted without waiting for her dragon to lie on the ground, and because of this she banged her leg. But she continued to run towards Corlys Velaryon, gritting her teeth.
"Where is he? Where is Daemon?"
She breathed heavily, feeling the dust tickle her nose. But the man himself didn't seem to know where the Rogue Prince was. Not comforting thoughts began to torment the girl's mind when saving words were heard. "Hey! Look!"
The girl's neck almost broke from how sharply she turned it.
There, in the distance, a tall figure appeared from the darkness of the cave. Cerys' heart languished in anticipation, but as soon as she noticed the shiny Targaryen armor, a tiny smile of relief touched her lips.
Daemon was covered in blood, even his silver hair was stained with this enemy fluid, which now signaled victory. He looked at his niece, whose face was dirty because of the ashes of the people she burned, which hung in the air like snow.
Daemon mentally chuckled.
She came here to save him.
Cerys laughed quietly with relief, looking back at the cooling battlefield.
"Hail Princess Cerys, first of her name!" The loud words of one of the soldiers brought Cerys back to reality. The smile on her face faded and she slowly turned around. One by one, the men knelt before her and bowed their heads. "Liberator of the Narrow Sea!"
They began to shout her name and among this shout she managed to hear the voices of Corlys Velaryon and her uncle.
Daemon knelt down, looking at Cerys proudly. "Hail the Princess."
His words were swallowed up by the dragon's roar, but she was ready to swear that she heard what his lips said.
Their words echoed in her head, burning letter symbols into her skull even as she returned to King's Landing.
These people called her a hero, their savior. She was felt in their hearts, like a goddess who had descended from heaven and decided to help the creatures that others call men.
Love and acceptance from others was quite a strange thing. One moment you have all the attention, all the love and adoration, and the next second you are hated. The love of the people was changeable, and that made it even sweeter to the taste. It seduced Cerys like a juicy red apple, which she tasted and could never forget its taste.
author's note:
every time i hate the end result of
a chapter i make memes so...