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Chapter 473 - 93

Chapter 93: Interlude: Fyre IVNotes:

Hey guys, I'm back! A bit late, but better today than the 29th.

Australia was awesome, by the way. I can really see why two-thirds of Dad's family emigrated here back in the 90s. The clan were all really excited to meet my daughter for the first time, and we had a great time celebrating my older brother's 23rd birthday.

Also, as promised, I fed my daughter some kangaroo meat at the birthday party, and only told her what she was eating after she finished the whole skewer. Yuri basically bluescreened for like two minutes before someone started streaming Multiverse of Madness on the home cinema, and then she completely forgot about the whole incident.

The wonders of a 3-year-old's attention span, eh?

Fun fact: Back when my big brother and I were my daughter's age, we wanted a pet rabbit. So Dad pulled a similar prank involving rabbit meat on us. Apparently we reacted pretty much the exact same way as my daughter.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

"Maegelle and Daella,

Their Faith had no slack,

Vaelon and Baelon,

Brains did they lack. "

-Fourth verse in song 'The Dragonseeds'

114 AC, Red Keep

Vaelon and Baelon giggled to themselves as they stalked the halls of the Fyrepit.

The whole place had been all doom and gloom since Aerion pulled an emo teenager and ran away from home. Vaelon personally didn't know what all the fuss was about.

Things like that happened. Second sons or other lesser cousins with nothing to inherit often acted out in such ways, snapping after being at the bottom of the pecking order for so long. It was a common story, boy gets too backed up, boy gets drunk, boy loses his temper, boy steals his father's coffer, shaves his father's head as a prank, and then rides off into the sunset with the best horse in the stable.

That was just the way of the world.

Vaelon had absolutely no clue why Rhaenyra was all 'I want Aerion ripped limb-from-limb!'. It wasn't like he did anything that bad.

"You know, I think Rhaenyra's all backed up." Baelon murmured.

"Really?" Vaelon asked his twin. "She's a woman. I don't think women can get backed up."

"Well when was the last time she got laid?" Baelon pointed out. "Her husband died the day after they got married, and she's spent the last 11 months chasing away suitors with dragons."

"So you think that she needs to marry again?"

"I think Rhaenyra needs a man, any man, to give her the night of her life." Baelon shrugged. "You know what the maesters say about hysteria."

Vaelon grunted sympathetically.

"Womb running around the body due to lack of use, leading to mania, paranoia and anger?" He recalled. "Yeah that makes sense."

"Now you get it! Think about how ornery she's been since Aerion's emo runaway." Baelon enthused. "She's hysteric!"

"We need to get her laid." Vaelon agreed. "And fast."

They left it at that, the two twins wordlessly agreeing to table the conversation until they completed their current prank; It was gonna be hilarious to see prim-and-proper Shaeterys being woken up by a chamber pot full of shit to the face.

Unfortunately, the two boys never got the chance to ambush Shaeterys, for the door to the main corridor was flung open right as they were walking past it.

The door smacked straight into Vaelon's face, knocking him back and causing him to accidentally spill the entire contents of his chamber pot all over Baelon. Shit went everywhere, and Baelon slipped over the filth, tripping head-first into Vaelon. There was a yelp of pain as both boys headbutted each other most painfully. Crashing into the floor in a painful heap.

And to add insult to injury, Vaelon faceplanted straight into the chamber pot.

Not that Daenys noticed any of that, the girl storming past the twins with black rage writ on her face, eyes shining grey and pink. Her magic roiling around her body like a typhoon, leaving a trail of slipstream behind her.

———

Okay, so the plan to give Shaeterys a face full of poop failed.

He and the rest of Rhaenyra's inner circle had mustered in the Small Council chambers, whispering to one another about something called 'Operation Towerfall'.

Vaelon and Baelon were hiding in the hidden passageway right next to the place, ears pressed against the wall to hear what was going on.

So far it was all just boring stuff, like Daenys claiming to have 'hard-reset' the glass candles and 'establishing a smaller network'. 

"Unfortunately, our candles further afield cannot be trusted anymore, and resetting them requires that I handle them in person." Daenys was saying. "Until this sorcerer has been brought to heel, the seven glass candles currently in front of us are all that we have."

"It'll be enough." Rhaenyra replied. "One here, one in Dragonstone, and the rest with me in the Reach. That'll carry us through."

"How much more boring claptrap can they talk about?" Baelon whined. "It's been hours now."

"I know, I know." Vaelon grumbled. "But timing is everything."

The two of them were going to hide outside the small council chambers with a pair of maces, and smack the first two people whom exited right in the faces. But given the guard presence outside the doors, that meant that their window of opportunity was very narrow. And the Kingsguard were always suspicious when the twins loitered around.

No, it had to be quick, fast and decisive. Which unfortunately meant that they had to wait until just the right moment.

"Daenys—No, Rhaegar—Find the fastest raven in the castle and send a message to Aunt Rhaenys. I want Meleys in pursuit of Aerion immediately." Rhaenyra ordered.

"What should I write?" Daenys asked.

"Nothing, Rhaegar, I want you to possess the raven and fly there yourself. I'm not trusting something so delicate as this to a mere bird."

"Now she's really gone mad." Vaelon mused. "Rhaegar isn't here, but Rhaenyra thinks he is."

"Hysteria, brother. Hysteria." Baelon sagely nodded. "The lack of sex is really getting to her."

"No kidding." Vaelon grumbled. "They already had this conversation before. I remember Aunt Rhaenys being told over glass candle to 'Hunt Aerion down and make him eat his own manhood' three days ago. Why do it again?"

"Distractedness and poor memory are symptoms of hysteria."

"Ah. Right."

There was the sound of chairs scraping the floor, and the twins knew that the time for talk was over. It was now time for action.

With great war cries, both boys ran right out of the secret passage, maces raised to attack their siblings.

Unfortunately, the ambushes were ambushed, Ser Adrian Redfort having been lying in wait right outside the hidden passage. Sticking his foot out, the Redfort knight tripped Vaelon, causing him to fall in a sprawl. A heartbeat later and Baelon tripped over Vaelon's body, crashing down right beside his brother.

As his twin fell, Baelon's mace whacked Vaelon most painfully in the back of the head, causing him to see stars and tiny dragons spinning around his head. Meanwhile, Vaelon's own mace— thrown into the air when Vaelon was tripped by Ser Adrian— came crashing down right onto Baelon's head, sending his twin off to stars and tiny dragon territory.

———

Another day, another meeting.

This time, Rhaenyra was meeting with Generals Roderick Dustin and Lucius Serrett, freshly arrived with their Legions from the northern front.

"—for the foreseeable future, we will be proceeding under the impression that we shall not be having any draconic air support." Rhaenyra was saying as the three of them walked the battlements of the Red Keep.

"That complicates matters." General Serrett replied. "Can Operation Towerfall still proceed without them?"

"Of course. A plan with only a single point of failure is not a plan, it is wishful thinking." Rhaenyra retorted. "Operation Towerfall has contingencies just in case of a situation such as this."

"You planned to lose all your dragons?" General Dustin incredulously asked.

"As my mother likes to say; Always make backup plans for even the most improbable of situations. Better to have them and not need them than vice versa."

"Blah blah blah." Vaelon complained from his hiding spot. "Our cousin really likes to run her mouth, doesn't she?"

"Agreed! Just how many meetings does she need to attend?" Baelon grumbled. "Wasn't the whole point of being King to spend your life fooling around and partying, and leaving all the boring ruling and duties to the Hand?"

"Well then, it's a good thing we're here to make her loosen up a bit." Vaelon replied. "Even Rhaenyra can't not laugh when we wedgie her generals."

The twins turned their eyes back to Rhaenyra, whom was now leaning on the railing, watching the churning sea far below. Her two generals stood respectfully a few paces behind her, flanking the King on either side.

"General Serrett, I'll be assigning all of the half-trained sappers to your Legion. That should get your half-Legion up to fighting strength." Rhaenyra informed the man. "You'll also be getting a battery of Manglers and Megapults, just in case. Use them wise—"

With eager shouts, both Vaelon and Baelon burst out of the bushes they were hiding in, dashing straight towards the two generals.

They never reached either man, both of them suddenly finding themselves floating in midair when they came within a foot of the two soldiers. The twins barely had time to squawk in surprise before Rhaenyra telekinetically threw them both off of the battlements.

If the waistbands of their underwear hadn't caught onto the decorative gargoyles on the parapet, they would have gone splat onto the rocks below. Unfortunately, that still meant that they were left dangling from the walls of the Red Keep in a most painful wedgie.

"I'm sorry, where was I before the interruption?" Rhaenyra asked, even as both boys started yelping in pain and fear.

"We were discussing the deployment of the Sixth Legion."

"Ah yes, as I was saying, a key part of Operation Towerfall revolves around misdirection…" The voices trailed off as the three of them walked away, leaving the two boys behind.

It took three pants-wettingly terrifying hours before another person found Vaelon and Baelon and pulled them back onto solid ground.

———

114 AC, Oldtown,

"Dragonspawn!"

"Traitors!"

"Murderers!"

Maegelle winced as a rotten piece of cabbage glanced off of her face. How had everything gone to shit so quickly?

She had went to bed last night after making her usual evening prayers. It had been an uneventful day in Oldtown, with nothing out of the ordinary.

Next thing she knew, Paladins led by Ser Ormund Hightower were bashing down the door of their manse. Violence ensued, and every single guard and servant sworn to House Targaryen in the manse had been murdered by the Paladins. After the killing, Maegelle and her siblings had been dragged out of their beds and clapped in irons.

Now they were being paraded through the streets of Oldtown like trophies of war, for the amusement of the jeering and frothing mob.

Ser Ormund Hightower rode atop a shining white stallion, with Maegelle and her siblings were chained up being him. They were dragged along in single file, chained and collared to one another, in order of birth, with the leash around Haegon's neck being tied to the tail of Ser Ormund's mount.

"What is going on?" Haegon was demanding. "I swear before the Seven that this is a misunderstanding and can be peacefully resolved."

"Silence, murderer!"

"You killed our Queen, sisterfucker!"

"Death to the Targaryens! Death to the Dragons!"

And even still, Haegon tried to appeal to the mob. Constantly praying and attempting to appeal to reason.

Behind Maegelle, her sister Daella was red in the face, sweat beading down her forehead from the exertion of attempting to cast magic. An exercise in futility, Maegelle noted. The shackles they wore were somehow binding their magic, preventing them from wielding sorcery.

Naerys at the very end was the very worst, weeping and crying and pleading to no avail, sobbing for her mother.

The eleven-year-old girl was completely out of her depth, and quite overwhelmed. Naerys was a sheltered girl, and getting dragged barefoot through the streets in her pyjamas before a jeering mob was quite a violating experience.

Maegelle too felt like she wanted to break into weeping, but she consciously chose not to show any weakness. She was a dragon. She would face this indignity with as much poise and strength as she possibly could. If this were her end, she would meet it straight-backed and unbowed.

But then she saw what was before her, and for one moment, her legs failed her and she nearly fell to her knees in despair.

In the largest plaza of Oldtown, a grand stage had been raised. Giblets had been raised. Five of them. One was already filled, Uncle Vaegon looking rather worse for wear, with a black eye and bleeding lip. The remaining four were empty, awaiting Maegelle and her siblings.

But those were not what made her falter.

At the forefront of the stage, atop a long pike, rested Rhaegar's decapitated head.

Both Daella and Naerys let out a great wail at the sight, and even Haegon fell into a deathly silence.

Ormund Hightower paused his horse, sadistically letting the four siblings gaze upon the corpse of their brother. He lingered for a minute or two, before the crowd—held back by a shield wall of Hightower guardsmen— began getting impatient, shouting and clamouring for blood.

The four siblings were unchained from the horse, frog-marched up the steps to the stage and forced to stand upon the giblets as nooses were slung around their necks.

Lord Horbert Hightower walked to the front of the stage and began addressing the crowd.

"Citizens of Oldtown, it is my solemn duty to announce that my beloved niece, the Queen Alicent Hightower, has been brutally murdered by the usurper Rhaenyra!"

Rhaenyra did whatnow?

Even as the crowd roared in grief and outrage, Maegelle turned to Uncle Vaegon, on her extreme right.

"Rhaenyra didn't. Did she?" Maegelle morbidly asked in High Valyrian.

"She did." Uncle Vaegon confirmed in the same language.

"Then why didn't she tell us?!" Haegon demanded from between them. "Whatever possessed her to not tell us beforehand?! By the Crone, one doesn't have to be a genius to realise that we'd face the Stranger's blade if we remained in Oldtown!"

"This wasn't supposed to happen." Uncle Vaegon murmured to no one in particular, sounding rather shellshocked. "According to Operation Towerfall, my niece should have informed us immediately after she murdered Alicent, such that we could evacuate Oldtown before this happened."

"Operation Towerfall?" Maegelle incredulously asked. "A bit on the nose, no?"

"Silence, apostates!" Ser Ormund ordered, slamming a fist onto one of the giblets. "My father is speaking now."

"Or what?" Vaegon dryly asked. "You'll order us killed? You'll declare war on Rhaenyra? You'll torture us before a jeering mob?"

There was a long beat of embarrassed silence.

"I dearly recommend that you release us all now, and allow us to return to Rhaenyra." Uncle Vaegon patiently said. "After our evacuation, the next step of Operation Towerfall was an all-out preemptive strike on Oldtown with the full muster of House Targaryen's dragons."

The Archmaester of Finance and Accounting leaned forward, and bared his teeth in a vicious smile, much like his favourite niece.

"We all know that Rhaenyra will not hesitate to burn this city and every single inhabitant within its walls to the ground." Vaegon calmly spoke in a matter-of-fact tone. "But if you release us all with profuse apologies, I will personally persuade my niece not to torch this fine city to the ground."

"Lies!" Ser Ormund shouted. "The liar lies!"

"A man of little faith and even less integrity." Lord Horbert agreed. "Rhaenyra has lost her dragons!"

"What?" Uncle Vaegon faltered.

"My brother speaks the truth." Ser Otto Hightower nodded, producing several raven scrolls. "We have had reliable reports from multiple sources that your kinsman, Aerion Fyre, has stolen all of Rhaenyra's dragons in the dead of night, before flying off. He's in Pentos now, far far away from Oldtown."

Haegon gasped out a denial as Maegelle reeled from the news. Everyone knew that Aerion was a thug and a bully, but there was a difference between that and outright betraying Rhaenyra right on the eve of civil war.

On Maegelle's extreme left, Naerys looked like someone had taken a sledgehammer to her worldview.

Unsurprising. She always had been the sweetest of them all, always the first to defend both Aerion and Shaera. To hear that Aerion had betrayed them so must have been getting stabbed in the heart.

"Ah, the treachery of bastards. Covetous and perverse children of lies and lust." Ser Ormund snickered. "See now the failings of Rhaenyra! Are we really to bow and kiss the cunny of a ruler with such poor judgement and sense?"

Laughter. Somehow, the laughter from the mob hurt more than even the jeers.

"But even without her dragons, Rhaenyra still commands the Legions." Vaegon tried. "Near thirty-thousand trained soldiers."

"Toy soldiers, led by a girl playing at war." Ser Ormund dismissed. "They will crumple and rout when faced with true Oldtown steel!"

There was a loud cheer from the mob at that.

"But you do have a point." Otto declared. "It would prudent to acquire any advantage we can in this war."

"Huh?" Daella got out, even as Maegelle's blood slowly cooled at the implication of Otto's words.

"Ironic, isn't it?" Lord Horbert mused. "That Rhaenyra the Dragonqueen would face her death on foot, at the hands of your dragons."

Shit. 

Fuck.

Words stronger than fuck.

There were currently three dragons currently in Oldtown. Urrax, Syrax and Tessarion. The mounts of Haegon, herself and Daella respectively. Last Maegelle checked, all three dragons had been captured by the Paladins and no small amount of chains and netting.

They would not let anyone apart from their rider ride them, of course. An inviolable bond that could be only broken by dragon horn or death.

The three were fairly small, but now that Rhaenyra had lost her flock, they represented the single largest concentration of air power left on the continent. If House Hightower could round up enough Valyrians to fly them, they would have air superiority uncontested.

Of course, they would first need to kill their current riders.

"In the name of King Aegon II Targaryen, True King of the Andals, the Rhoynar and the First Men, Rightful Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm, I, Hand of the King Otto Hightower, so sentence you five to death under charges of treason and sedition." Otto Hightower solemnly declared. "If you have any last words to say, now is the time."

"My niece will rip your House out root and stem for this, mark my words." Uncle Vaegon declared. "Fire and Blood."

"I think I'll take my chances." Lord Horbert dryly said, gesturing at the headsman.

There was a snap, and Archmaester Vaegon Targaryen, last son of King Jaehaerys I Targaryen, died.

"Father, Mother, Warrior, Smith, Maiden, Crone, Stranger. Exalted Seven Who Are One, I, Haegon Fyre do beseech you. May my sister be spared my fate. Naerys is not yet twelve, and still has so much of her life before her, with neither dragon nor gold for her executors to claim. Almighty Father, Dearest Mother, high in the Seven Heavens, I plead that you spare my sister Naerys from the Stranger's blade." Haegon rapidly prayed as the headsman moved to execute him next.

"I would repeat the same prayer." Maegelle immediately spoke up. "My sister Naerys is an innocent child with nothing to her name. Holy Seven Who Are One, you have heard her prayers and seen her behaviour. She has lived a life without sin, healing all whom come before her with neither discrimination nor prejudice, demanding neither coin nor acclamation in exchange. Wisest Crone, Fairest Maiden, I beseech you, please let the men around me come to their senses and spare an innocent girl."

"What they said." Daella nodded fervently, head bobbing up and down. "Naerys is innocent and harmless! She heals instead of wounds. Forgives instead of belittles. Labours instead of lazes! Bravest Warrior, Strongest Smith, I beg that you see the good my sister has wrought and spare her the executioner's blade on this day."

Ser Ormund looked like he was about to rebuke them, but Otto Hightower placed a hand on his nephew's shoulder and shook his head.

"I hear your prayers, and admire your devotion to your sister. It is most admirable that an elder be willing to die for a younger sibling, and I can respect that." Lord Horbert proclaimed. "Your last requests shall be granted."

"Why? You didn't need to do that!" Naerys protested as she was brought down from the noose. "Don't worry about me, save yourselves!"

"Live for us, Naerys." Haegon declared. "Be good and kind."

There was a snap, and Haegon Fyre died.

"But not mindlessly kind or good." Maegelle told her sister. "Be careful with who you trust. Don't let something like this happen again."

There was a snap, the last thing Maegelle Fyre ever saw was Naerys, face streaked with tears and fighting tooth and nail with the guards holding her.

———

"Live long. Find happiness." Daella said, forcing a smile onto her face. "Leave this world a better place than you found it."

The hangman dropped the trapdoor beneath her feet, and the drop snapped Daella Fyre's neck.

Notes:

RIP Vaegon, Haegon, Maegelle and Daella.

I nearly cried while writing this chapter. Haegon, Maegelle and Daella went out like heroes. But unfortunately, their deaths were necessary for the Greens to acquire dragons.

So what do you think of this plot twist? The situation has been flipped on Rhaenyra. Now she's the one without dragons, while her enemies possess them.