The Red Keep trembled beneath the weight of Ser Criston Cole's heavy footsteps, each echoing through the dimly lit halls. The clank of his armor resonated like a war drum, a foreboding rhythm that heralded his approach to the queen's chambers. Anger etched across his face, a storm of emotions that fueled his determined stride.
The air carried whispers of his discontent, mingling with the faint traces of ash and smoke lingering from a recent fire. Flames had danced in the hearth, casting flickering shadows that mirrored the turmoil within Ser Criston's heart. The red and gold banners adorning the walls seemed to bow in deference to the looming presence, their silk threads shivering in the wake of his passing.
Ser Criston Cole entered Queen Alicent's chambers, the heavy door groaning on its hinges behind him. The room was steeped in an eerie stillness, shattered only by the queen's wide-eyed gaze that met his entrance. Alicent sat on the edge of the bed, her regal demeanor marred by the disarray of her surroundings. The air carried the lingering scent of smoke, a haunting reminder of recent turmoil.
Her gown, once resplendent, now bore witness to the chaos that had unfolded. Its fabric whispered tales of a fiery ordeal, and the queen's tear-stained face betrayed the emotional toll exacted by the events.
Ser Criston's armor creaked as he approached, his gaze unwavering despite the weight of the situation.
"Your Grace," he spoke with a measured tone, the echo of his voice weaving through the tense atmosphere.
"The search for the bodies has been unsuccessful. The fire had consumed anything. There is nothing left for us to search for." Cole said with defeat and sadness in his voice.
Alicent's eyes, still swollen from weeping, searched Ser Criston's face for reassurance. "Have you found any clues, any hint as to who would commit such a heinous act?" Her voice trembled with a mixture of fear and desperation as if clinging to the hope that answers could somehow mend the wounds inflicted upon her.
The knight's expression remained stern, no matter how much his heart was broken at this very moment, "You and I both know who could have done that. But will the King listen?"
Silence fell in the room, "Sunfyre is still gone. He disappeared into the night sky. Vermax flew back. But Sunfyre hadn't returned yet. Whoever assassinated the Princess and your son, must have let the dragons out..."
"Sunfyre is gone? Where do you think he went?" Alicent's lower lip trembled as she asked.
"He could have gone to the edge of the world by now... We do not know..."
Alicent closed her eyes as she held her face in her hands, falling apart, she was sobbing again.
"How could you be so sure that Aegon was in those chambers with her last night?..." Alicent spoke, her voice hoarse.
Cole clenched his fist. "Prince Aegon was last seen leaving the feast with Princess Thereya..." His anger didn't allow him to grieve just yet.
"By who? Who was the witness of this?" Alicent finally raised her head to look into Cole's eyes, searching for any hope or answer.
"Daemon Targaryen..." He spat the words out like he had drank venom.
"Thereya Targaryen is dead..." Daemon said as he entered Rhaenyra's chambers.
Rhaenyra turned her head quickly as she heard her husband's words. She was holding Luke in her embrace, Baela, Rhaena, and Luke were present as well.
"It's not true..." Baela said. "My sister is not dead, she is no weakling, she must have been taken away or- or-" But Daemon quickly cut her off.
"Thereya Targaryen... Is dead..." And the silence fell on the room, Jace was looking at Daemon with watery eyes. Baela had looked away from her father and Rhaena took her hand. Baela left the chambers in a swift motion and so did Rhaena after her.
Daemon looked at Luke and Jace before he spoke in the same demanding tone. "You two... Out as well... I wish to be with your mother... So we can grieve your half-sister's death together..."
Jace took Luke and left without questioning. The death of her half-sister left a trace on his heart.
The weight of sorrow bore down on Rhaenyra's shoulders. She grieved quietly, the flickering candles casting somber shadows across the room. The departure of Jace and Luke had left an uneasy tension in the air, and Daemon's lingering annoyance etched lines on his face, a reflection of the discord that now defined their world.
Turning her gaze away from Daemon, Rhaenyra's mind wrestled with the ache of loss and the unsettling suspicion that clung to the air like a heavy mist. "I beg the gods," she murmured, almost a desperate plea, "that you had no part in Thereya's and Aegon's deaths."
"Aegon may be away in some brothel or something. He may be alive" Daemon took off his shirt and put away his sword.
"My brother is dead..." Rhaenyra quickly as she turned her head towards him.
"So what if he is? Your biggest threat has fallen then." He said nonchalantly as he sat on the bed next to her, placing a soft kiss on her shoulder.
"She was your daughter... Show some grief..." Rhaenyra looked in his eyes searching for any trace of warmth and love in his eyes. But she found none.
"We all grieve in different ways..." Daemon said as he lay back in bed, making himself comfortable.
Lying in bed beside Daemon, Rhaenyra felt the weight of unease settle over her like a heavy cloak. The night stretched on in restless silence, the rhythm of her breath a counterpoint to the turmoil in her mind. Sleep eluded her, as elusive as the answers she sought.
As she lay there in the darkness, her thoughts danced on the edge of a chilling possibility. Could Daemon, the man beside her, be the one responsible for the deaths of her brother and stepdaughter? The question lingered like a haunting specter, casting a shadow over the intimacy of their shared space.
Tossing and turning beneath the blankets, Rhaenyra grappled with doubt and suspicion. The man she had once trusted with her heart now existed in the liminal space between ally and potential adversary. The uncertainty gnawed at her, and the weight of the accusations hung heavy in the air.
Across the Red Keep, Alicent mirrored Rhaenyra's sleeplessness. The night became a canvas for sorrow, and she moved through it like a ghost. Tears stained her face as she clutched her son's clothes to her chest, each fabric a tangible connection to the loss that now defined her world.
In the solitude of her chamber, Alicent breathed in the lingering scent of her departed son, as if trying to preserve the memory of him in the folds of cloth. The room echoed with her quiet sobs, a lament for the innocence stolen and the dreams shattered.
Aemond was silently sitting in the courtyard, the trace of teardrops on the stone floor beneath his head.
"Aemond?" Helaena spoke softly. Aemond turned his head around to see his sweet sister Helaena standing behind him. Her nose was red from crying.
Helaena sat beside Aemond. He turned his face away so she couldn't see that he was crying for his brother. She knew him a little too well, so she only rested her head on his shoulder.
He took her hand and squeezed it. They both shared pain and grief.
"I loved her. I had dreams before. About a dragon warrior. White hair, coming to free us all. Wearing no crown on their head, but around their heart..." Helaena spikes softly... "I was so sure it was her prophecy to fulfill... Now I know it's someone else's..." She said as she wiped the tears from her face.
Aemond only looked at her, saying nothing at all. There was nothing left for him to say. His brother was gone. One was sent to the Oldtown... And the other one is dead...
Alicent didn't want to rest or announce the funeral. Viserys was raging and comforting himself by sending the Kingsguard to search the whole King's Landing, flipping every stone and brothel.
Amidst the endless expanse of the desert, Thereya and Aegon clung to life like oasis dwellers in a vast sea of sand. The unforgiving sun cast long shadows across the dunes, and the air shimmered with the heat of a relentless day. Their respite, however brief, was about to be shattered.
Manta is a weathered figure shaped by the harsh trials of Essos. Kicking Thereya's side, he jolted her from the drowsy embrace of sleep. Aegon, his chains tethered to a pillar, felt the harsh pull as Manta roused him with a sense of urgency that matched the arid landscape.
"Get up!" Manta's voice cut through the dry air, carrying with it the weight of a nomadic existence. "It's time to move to Qarth," he declared, the words hanging in the silence like a decree from the desert itself.
Thereya, blinking against the glare of the sun, rose with a quiet determination. Her eyes met Manta's, a mixture of resilience and acceptance in their depths.
Thereya looked down at Aegon, her gaze met him as they shared a glance. Then her gaze moved to the Dothraki girl Erys who sat in chains, and their eyes met.
"I won't go to Qarth," Thereya spoke softly, her eyes stern and cold as she looked Manta in the eyes.
Manta started laughing as he rubbed his chin.
"What are you doing you imbecile!? He will snap you in half!" Aegon whispered to Thereya as he pulled her clothes harshly.
Manta motioned the men to untie Aegon and get him on his feet, and they were quick to do it.
"Stop..." Thereya said as they yanked Aegon up to his feet, but they didn't stop. Aegon glared at Thereya mouthing her 'shut up' but she couldn't. They continued to drag him away.
Manta approached Thereya and grabbed her arm harshly, he ripped her hand out of his grasp.
"I said I won't go!" Thereya shouted. As if she had a death wish.
"Princess please-" Erys tried to stop her from getting herself killed but she was cut off by Manta kicking her. "Shut your mouth slave!" He shouted.
"Reya... For the love of Gods shut your mouth for once..." Aegon said annoyed and he pulled her arm to go but she pulled away.
"I refuse. I won't go. We are the ones sitting on the iron throne... Our house... Our blood..." Thereya began to speak, looking at Aegon shaking her head in denial. "What kind of a king leaves its people behind? When the people are all he has... Without them... Over who will he rule? Who will he protect? Who will he fight for?" Her voice is shaky.
Aegon took her words in, grabbed her arm again, and pulled her closer to his face, "A dead King rules over nothing. So listen to me and live." he was scared, but the only emotion he managed to portray was anger.
"Trust me... Because you are all I have now..." She said as she looked into his eyes, she could feel his warm breath on her face.
"Enough of this!" Manta said as he whipped Thereya across her back. Leaving a bloody mark once again. She shouted in pain as she fell to her knees.
"Don't you dare to put your hands on her!" Aegon shouted but he couldn't do anything as two of the men grabbed him from behind moving him towards the old carriage where two donkeys were moving.
"Stay down..." Manta said harshly.
Thereya shot him a deadly glare as she rose to her feet again.
"I said!..." Manta raised his voice and a hand-held the whip in the air again "Stay! Down!" he brought the whip down on Thereya's once-soft skin.
"Stop it! Stop this! Enough!" Aegon shouted as he started to fight the men back. But it was all in vain.
Erys covered her mouth and gasped as she saw the Princess fall to the ground. The other slaves who were weeping and crying now went quiet.
Thereya gave Erys a slight smirk before Mata grabbed a handful of her hair and yanked her back up on her feet.
"You think you can waste my time like this!?" Manta shouted.
"It is not like you have anything better to do..." Thereya chuckled mockingly.
"Shut it already!" Aegon shouted at her but Manta was quicker and he gave her one hell of a smack across the face, making her fall to the ground again.
Thereya wiped the blood from the corner of her mouth.
"Not such a Princess now. More of a whore? Maybe I should have sold you to some brothel instead of shipping you off to Qarth?" Ge chuckled.
Thereya got up again. "Sell me to a brothel? You want me to send your mother your regards?" Thereya provoked again. And Manta smacked her across the face again even harder.
"Stop! Stop it already! Just stop!" Aegon continued to yell as he was being held back by Manta's men.
Thereya spit some blood to the side. Manta grabbed her by the collar as he got in her face. "You do not speak to me like that! Do you hear me!? You are nothing but a slave now! Your every title has been removed! I have removed it! You are now destined to work till you drop dead! Get that into that head of yours! Or I swear it! I will kill you right now!!" Manta shouted in her face.
Silence fell as she didn't respond, just stared into his eyes, she was hesitating, but finally, "F*ck you and your destiny..." bitter words rolled off her tongue.
Manta punched her making the blood splash out of her mouth. He threw her on the floor and with a swift motion of his foot he landed a strong blow to her head.
Thereya fell to the ground. This time not getting back up.
"No!!!! No!!" A desperate shout left Aegon's mouth, the men pulled him onto the carriage in fear.
Erys looked at Thereya's unmoving body with wide eyes, a tear of fear rolled down her cheek.
Manta approached her and rolled Thereya on her back with a single motion of his foot.
He looked at her for a few moments before speaking coldly. "She isn't breathing... Throw her body in the sea..."
"No!!! No, please!!! Gods!!" Aegon began weeping. But it was all in vain. The men tied him to a barrel that was loaded on the carriage.
One man slapped the donkey and the donkey began moving the carriage. A few of the men hopped onto the carriage next to Aegon. With a smug face, they watched the scene. The last thing Aegon saw before the carriage took him off deeper into the desert, was Thereya's body being dragged away while Manta calmly watched.
His heart shattered.