Dragons of Destiny

Pentos 307 AC.

Ser Jorah Mormont.

He'd never wished to see this city again and it stirred up some bad memories in him to be here. Though compared to those that Illyrio's manse stirred up, they could be named as good ones. Just seeing the large gates in front of them as they made their way to the entrance was enough to make Jorah remember betraying his queen. His eyes looking to and thankfully not finding her own looking his way.

Over the years he'd told himself that he knew her not at the time. That she was simply a means to an end. Yet, given the depths of the feelings he had for Daenerys, his actions shamed him still. So as they entered the manse, as Daenerys, Aegon, and Rhaenys dismounted from their horses, Jorah promised himself he'd judge Illyrio as harshly as he would now have judged the man that he himself once was.

Ser Jaime, Grey Worm, Ned Dayne, Tormund and their guards, all looked around at the opulence that Illyrio surrounded himself with, and other than Ser Jaime, they did so with impressed looks on their faces. The Lannister knight had known much about opulence, however. He'd lived a life of luxury and knew all about how those with true wealth lived. It was the dangers or prospect of them that Jorah believed Ser Jaime was now evaluating, not the coin that had been spent on furnishings and trinkets.

"By your leave, your grace," Jorah said looking to Daenerys. Aegon nodded and bid him and his guards to do their due diligence.

Above their heads, Rhaegal and Drogon flew and carried their own threat. While down in the manse, Jorah, Grey Worm and a dozen Unsullied moved about the grounds and the buildings themselves. Nowhere was denied to them. No room was left unchecked and only once they were certain there were truly no threats to face, did they allow the magister entry to his own home. That had been the offer that the queen had made to the man. The one demand made when Daenerys had decided that she wished this meeting to be held here and not in Drogo's manse.

Now, as Illyrio raced inside as fast as his girth would allow him, Jorah once again found himself lost in memories of days gone past. Of letters sent and secrets revealed. A plan that had been formed to kill the woman who'd become the most important person in his life. Turning his head from where Daenerys was speaking softly to Aegon, Jorah reached up and wiped his eyes as subtly as he could. Surprised to find that no tears had actually fallen and that it was just the threat of them that he was feeling.

"My Empress, My Emperor, Princess, allow me to…" Illyrio said breathlessly once he'd reached where they stood.

"I well remember the way, Magister. Lord Commander if you will." Daenerys said cutting Illyrio off before he could truly speak.

With a nod to Ser Jaime, Jorah led the way and once again entered the main building of the manse. Down corridors that he'd walked but moments earlier, he now led them to the largest and most opulent of Illyrio's greeting rooms. The soft couches, numerous chairs, and large tables allowed for the food and refreshments to be brought in almost as soon as Daenerys, Aegon, and Rhaenys had taken their seats. Not that any of them partook in those refreshments. Something which could not be said for the Magister and Jorah was again made to bear witness to the sight of Illyrio Mopatis gorging himself on dish after dish.

How the man had such an appetite, Jorah knew not. His fate was to be decided here today and even Jorah was unaware what that fate was to be. For the man himself, surely he understood this much at least. However, if he did, it limited his appetite not.

' Mayhap a last meal'

As it had been when dealing with most of those they'd encountered on their conquest of Essos, Aegon left it to Daenerys to speak. Jorah had heard him tell his wife that not only did she know more about the lands and its people than he did, but she was a much better politician than he was as well. His own strengths lay more in forcing men to their knees than in having them kneel due to the words spoken. However, Jorah did chuckle when Aegon added that his wife and sister were just as adept at that as he was.

"Long have I pondered your fate, Magister." Daenerys began and Illyrio moved to reply. A shake of Aegon's head and a glare at him from Rhaenys was more than enough to stop him from doing so. "A part of me wishes for naught more than to see you dead. To make you pay for how you used my brother and I. While another thanks you for it."

Looking at Illyrio, Jorah could see just how worried he now was. The fat man was sweating profusely and yet still he ate. Food mayhap offering him the comfort that thus far the queen's words had not.

"You sold me like a broodmare, Magister." Daenerys' words and tone left none of them in any doubt that it was a statement, not a question she was putting to Illyrio. "Only that my brother was such a willing participant in that sale or I'd have seen you burn long before now."

"I… My Empress…"

Again it was a shake of Aegon's head and a glaring look from Rhaenys that stilled the Magister's tongue. Daenerys then continued to speak as she made it clear to Illyrio that she knew all of his plans and schemes. The Magister listened as words he'd spoken to Varys, as well as those he'd spoken that he believed went unheard, were now repeated to him. Lady Malora, Lady Kinvara, and the Master of Whisperers had all been only too happy to share what they knew of Illyrio's deeds and actions.

"Yet you protected my brother and I too. Offered us a safe place to rest and to hide away from the usurper's assassins. The good you did may not outweigh the bad, but it has been taken into account." Daenerys said, turning to look at Aegon who gave her a supportive nod.

A movement behind Grey Worm caught Jorah's eye and he looked to see one of the servants listening to what was being said and doing so far too keenly. Looking to Ser Jaime, he motioned to the girl and without missing a beat, the Lannister knight and Ned Dayne were soon escorting her from the room and to another. Only Aegon and Grey Worm paid them any mind while they did so. The king looked angered and annoyed and yet for now he moved not.

"You will hand over one-quarter of your wealth immediately, Magister. Pay one-tenth of your income in taxes to the crown each year for the next ten."

"It shall be done, My Empress,"

"A part of me wished you to die here today, Magister. Be thankful that it's not that part of me that I listened to."

"I am, My Empress. Your mercy shall not go unrewarded."

To his surprise, Aegon spoke and told the Magister that he was to play a part in the new ruling council of the city. That there was to be no more Princes of Pentos, and that any dissension or failure to comply with their directives wouldn't be tolerated. Jorah looked to the queen to see that she was completely aware of this turn of events and that Aegon hadn't just decided this on a whim.

They were working together, fully in conjunction with each other. A true king and queen who he was more than happy to serve for as long as the Old Gods allowed him to. There were no more words spoken. Daenerys rose to her feet once Aegon had finished speaking and together with Rhaenys, all three then moved to the door. Illyrio left there looking relieved as well he should be.

As they walked down the corridor, Tormund whispered something in Aegon's ear and Jorah saw him again nod his head. A moment later the king shared a kiss with his wife and looked his way. Aegon bid him with his eyes to escort Daenerys and Rhaenys back to their own manse. Out of the corner of his eye, Jorah saw Ser Jaime motion to the king and Ned Dayne then being sent to join the queen and princess's escort. Then within no more than a few more moments, they were mounting their horses and riding back through the streets of Pentos.

It was not until much later that night that he found out why the servant had been spying on their meeting. Aegon had spoken to the woman personally and then she'd been brought back to the manse with him when he returned. She'd wished to see Illyrio punished far more severely than he had been. Had hoped that the queen or king would be the ones to do so. The young girl had been forced to share the Magister's bed more than once and her long hoped for justice had once again been denied to her. Though her fate was to be changed forever that day and not only the girl, but Jorah himself, welcomed it.

" I could see him dead. Make him suffer. His crimes certainly deserve such." Daenerys said softly to the girl.

" Yet you will not." the girl sniffled.

" My wife and I seek to make all lives better, to end the practices that men like Illyrio practice daily. Yet, as much as we wish to break the wheel, it is not in our power to do fully. Not the now."

" But…."

They set sail two days later. Pentos left with a council to rule over it in their Empress and Emperor's names and the young girl, Kara, was now part of Daenerys' household. They did so with far more wealth than they'd expected to take with them. The entirety of Illyrio Mopatis' treasury was now on its way to King's Landing, barring that which had been paid to those who had once served the man. As for the Magister, his death was one that Jorah wasn't privy to the details of. He knew only that he'd been found gutted in his bed and had bled out for most of the night. Only that and the words that Daenerys had spoken to Kara alluded to just who had been responsible for that death.

" You were right, some wheels need to be broken regardless. Your words were listened to, Kara. Aegon and I always promise to do so." his queen said, her husband's expression showing that it was the king himself who'd taken the Magister from this world.

Myr 307 AC.

Magister Trombo.

His fellow Magisters were fools of the highest order. Nothing that he'd said had been listened to and instead, they'd sought sellswords from far and wide. None of whom had been truly told just who it was they'd be fighting against. Not that it would even be a true fight, or so Trombo feared.

Sitting in his manse, looking over the letters that told the tale of the Dragon's Conquest, Trombo sighed and wished he was surrounded by cleverer men than those he had the misfortune to name as friends. He sought a solution to the upcoming apocalypse. A way to end the fight before it began and yet once again, that solution eluded him. Drinking down his wine in one go, turning to look out the open window, Trombo could only see Myr in flames. Imaginary though they were for now.

Close to five thousand men they'd gathered at significant cost and yet even four or five times that number wouldn't be enough to halt the dragon's but momentarily. They'd called the pirate ships back from the Stepstones and their other dens of iniquity, for all the good that would do them. Not only did the Dragons have a fleet that dwarfed their own but the Sealord had thrown his lot in with them already. Even were that not so, ships burn and dragons were what truly brought the flames. Three of them from what the letters Trombo read suggested.

"Fools the lot of us," he said loudly as he rose to his feet.

For once he found himself glad that his wife had died along with his child in the birthing bed. Trombo finally finding a reason to be happy about the worst day of his life. Had Malantha lived, had she and their daughter been here today, then the fear he already felt, would have robbed him of his senses completely. For now, it only threatened to rob him of his life and the lives of those who named Myr their home.

Moving to the window, Trombo closed his eyes briefly before he opened them to look out on the city below. Happy to no longer see the buildings on fire or the smoke plumes that filled his nights and had intruded on his days as well. He looked down on those who went about their day unaware of the truth of the threat that moved ever closer. Wondered if they believed the nonsense spouted by those who ran this city. While in the distance he could barely see the pointless preparations that were being made to hold the dragons at bay.

"As if crossbows and stilettos, sellswords and slaves, are a match for an Emperor, Empress, and their army."

Trombo had been the lone voice that had pleaded with his fellow Magisters to treat with the dragons. He'd shown them the letters he'd received which had told of benevolent rulers. True Empress Daenerys was still the self-same girl she'd once been and so slaves would need to be freed. Yet, it was a small price to pay in order to keep your life and your position. Or so he'd tried to explain.

He'd spoken of how in the cities that had knelt and done so peacefully, those in charge remained in charge. How it was only some and not all of the wealth in their vaults that the dragons had sought to take for their own. In some ways, they'd been no different than the Dothraki in that regard, Trombo had suggested. Yet his words had fallen on deaf ears and instead of peace, it was to be war.

"A war we cannot and will not win."

Envoys had been sent to Lys and Tyrosh. A grand alliance proposed to take on the might of the Dragonqueen and her husband. The Triarchy come again or so his fellow Magisters had believed. The Lyseni though had answered them not. Lys' First Magister and its Gonfaloniere were both notable in their silence, while the Archon was a much cleverer man than Trombo's friends had ever credited him to be.

The other Daughters would sit it out. They'd wait and see and leave it to Myr to be the fools that pulled on the dragon's tail. Trombo left in no doubt what they'd do once the dust had settled. He knew full well they'd bend and kneel. Accept and welcome the Dragons as their lords and masters. Just as he knew that in standing up to and forcing the Dragons to fight, Myr would be made an example of.

Walking from his room, Trombo moved through the Manse and looked at all he had gathered over his five and sixty years. Tapestries that depicted great moments in the history of Essos and of Myr. Images of a family that were long since dead. Glassware that was the envy of some of the wealthiest men in the city. There in pride of place, hung a portrait of the woman who'd taken his heart with him when the gods had called her to their side.

"I miss you as much today as I did on the day you were taken from me, my love," Trombo said as he looked at the almost lifelike image of his long-departed wife. "I shall see you soon."

He left the hall behind, the manse soon to follow. If she and their child still lived, then he'd probably have left this city behind by now too. It would have been easy for him to do so. To gather his wealth and take a ship to some far-off land, to live and see another day with his wife and daughter. Mayhap if they lived still he'd have found the strength to stand up even more against his fellow Magisters. Found the words to make them see the folly they were engaging in. Alas, the gods had decided to take them both from his side nigh on thirty years ago and he'd long since lost any strength he'd once possessed.

Passing by the makeshift defences, Trombo sighed. Wooden barricades and stone towers would stop a dragon's flames not. Crossbow bolts wouldn't pierce a dragon's scales and Trombo doubted that any would get the chance to try their luck against the armor that their riders wore. He looked to the docks and almost laughed at the blockade that his foolish fellow Magisters believed would keep the dragons at bay. Images of ships aflame right there behind his closed eyelids, should he deign to close his eyes. Soon he was standing outside the one place in Myr where the might of the Dragons was truly understood. The red priestess simply beckoned him inside as if she'd been awaiting him there.

"Come there is much we must talk on, Magister." the woman said. Her red hair stirred up images of flames and fire in his mind.

"I fear the time for talking has long since passed, Lady Erleya." Trombo sighed.

"To stop the war, it certainly has. Yet what is lost in the fire can be found again." Erleya replied.

Later that night, Trombo looked out the window once more. Again he saw flames covering the city. Though this time he saw them far more clearly than he'd ever seen them before. He saw ships burn. Sellswords and soldiers aflame. Magisters ran as dragons chased them down. Yet the people remained unburnt. Their homes were never touched by the fires that swept over the city. Night fell and the fires soon burned out. The smoke from those fires finally cleared and he saw himself on his knees and swearing oaths he knew he'd live up to.

The Narrow Sea 308 AC.

Rhaenys Targaryen.

She had worried about her brother going back to Westeros. The knowledge of what he would have to do once he got there and how it may affect him, had concerned her greatly. Together with Dany, they'd spoken of their fears and yet when Aegon had returned he'd seemed remarkably unaffected. He'd spoken little of it and had instead just continued as if he'd not even left in the first place. Still, Rhaenys had worried and wondered if it was all just an act he was putting on for their benefit.

So as they sailed to fight in what they all hoped was the final war of each of their lifetimes, Rhaenys had watched her brother intently. She'd laughed along with Rhaella when Aegon had played games with her niece. Had given him as much privacy as could be found aboard a ship when he and Dany had wanted to be alone. Rhaenys had, at times, stood a small distance away from Aegon when he'd taken a moment or two of solitude. Eventually, she knew they needed to speak on Sansa Stark and so waiting until he was once again alone, Rhaenys moved to join him.

"You are not as stealthy as you wish to be," Aegon called out, Rhaenys laughing as he didn't even turn to face her to do so. Instead, he simply stood and looked out at the sea.

"You're just too used to Ghost, Brother mine."

They were alone at the stern of the ship, not even a sailor near them and Aegon had seemed lost in thought. Seeing him offer her his hand from behind his back, Rhaenys took it gladly and a moment later she was standing next to him.

"I am well, Sister," he said. Though to look at his face and to read his expression would make his words seem true, she believed them not.

"She was your sister, Aegon," Rhaenys said softly. The soft squeezing of her hand letting her know that he did indeed feel something that he'd not yet shared.

"I thought so once." Aegon began, a heavy sigh coming from him as he turned to look at her. "Yet from the moment she knew what a bastard was, I was never truly her brother. Not in her heart at least. Oh, she named me so when it suited her. Mayhap even believed it but briefly. In truth, however, I was never a brother of her heart and was never thought the same as Bran, Rickon or Robb were."

"Egg…"

"Arya named me so. She never saw a bastard when she looked my way, only the brother she loved. Robb, I believe saw me so too. Rickon was but a babe when last I saw him and Bran…..well the less said about him the better."

"It pains you, Aegon," she said softly. "To speak of such things and yet speak of them you must."

Aegon shook his head, her brother showing a stubbornness that she wagered would turn to determination when it suited him best.

"I have two sisters and both are all I could have ever hoped for," Aegon said after a few moments of silence. "I am well, Rhaenys. Truly I am. I made my peace with what she was a long time ago. Aye, she was my sister once, but that girl died many years ago and the one who lost her life in King's Landing, I knew her not."

To her surprise, Aegon then embraced and hugged her tightly. His arms holding her and refusing to let her go. There were no tears, no sobs, instead, he spoke softly in her ear and it was her who came closest to crying.

"The gods gave me back my sister, Rhaenys. They brought you back into my life and I want nor need no more than that."

Their time on deck was cut short by the rain that began to fall. Aegon quickly hurried them both back below deck. That night they ate their dinner together as a family and she believed that whatever it had been that had affected her brother, now no longer did so. Dany seemed to think so too and more than once her Goodsister looked to her and offered her a smile or nod of her head. Thanking her for the words that she had spoken to Aegon, although Rhaenys had felt them inadequate.

As they got closer and closer to Myr, Aegon once again seemed to be somewhat lost in his head. Battle plans were gone over again and again and yet something else seemed to be troubling her brother. Once more it was left to her to speak to him and once again she did so while they were alone on the deck of the ship. Aegon almost seemed to be waiting for her to do so.

"What is it you wish for your life, Rhaenys? Once this is done, what do you want?" Aegon asked.

Rhaenys looked at him, unsure why he was asking her the question and even more unsure about what her answer to it may be.

"To have what I've not known, Egg."

"Rhaenys?"

"I want a life without fear, Egg. A life of peace. I want to have a family of mine own. A child….more than one." She smiled as she began to picture it in her mind, a boy, a girl, both, more even than that.

"I want that for you too," Aegon said before hesitating and seeming to fight with himself before he spoke again. "Dany and I spoke of Essos, of its rule and governance. Of how in time it must be a Targaryen that rules from one of the cities. She suggested we name you as our envoy. To stand in our place and act as its governor…."

Rhaenys felt her breath hitch in her throat. Her hands began to sweat and her heart raced.

She had no wish to be parted from her brother.

To live in lands that he did not.

They'd only been together a few moons and she hoped their time with each other was to be much more than it had been thus far.

Shaking her head, readying herself to tell Aegon that she wished it not and that just the thought of being parted from him caused her pain, Rhaenys almost missed the words he spoke. Almost.

"While it makes sense to do so, I fear I can't agree with my wife's suggestion. Logic and convenience be damned, for it's not what I wish."

"Egg…"

"We've only just found each other, Rhaenys. After all the years that were stolen from us, we've been given another chance at the life we should have known. I'm not yet willing to just simply give up on all those years to come."

Her tears came as she heard the determination in Aegon's voice. How he spoke, the shaking of his head, and the opening and closing of his fists, all of which showed just how against the idea he truly was.

"Yet if it's what you wish for….I could….I would…." he stuttered.

Her finger touched his lips and stopped him from speaking further. Rhaenys embraced her brother and softly cried against his shoulder. The idea that he wished for what she did was more than enough for her for now. Later, they could speak on what her actual plans for her life would be. This would do today.

In her heart, all she knew was that she wished to be close to her brother, to her Goodsister, and to her niece. She wanted to see Starfall and Dorne. To travel through Westeros and visit the lands that her father and mother had been born in. Rhaenys wished to go to the North and the Wall and see where Aegon had spent most of his life. Mainly though she simply wanted them to be a true brother and sister. For them to know the years that were stolen from them and for those years to be ones that were spent together and not apart. Both of them had lived enough of the latter as it was.

The day before they launched their attack on Myr, she told Aegon so. Told him that she wished to make her home in Westeros and to be no more than a dragon's ride away from him at any time. Starfall to King's Landing would take no more than a day atop Balerion's back, or so Dany suggested. With Ned or herself taking up a seat on the Small Council, they could split their time between both if needed. Essos had seen enough of her, taken enough from her, it was time for her to take and not to give. To be selfish for once in her life. More than that, it was time for her to have the family she'd been denied for far too long.

The Fall of Myr 308 AC.

Jaime Lannister.

The battle plans had been far more extensive than any since those for the Long Night. Aegon told them all that this wouldn't be like the other fights they'd had in Essos. Jamie and the others listening intently as Aegon spoke about his worries regarding the Myrish Crossbowmen and their effectiveness against their army.

Jaime knew full well just how dangerous a crossbow could be. Especially one that was wielded in the hands of men trained to use them. They were, in some ways, the one thing that every knight feared. Skills with a lance or sword counted for naught if your armor could be pierced from a distance. So facing off against as large a group of them as they undoubtedly would in Myr, was something that not only gave Aegon pause.

In the end, stealth and surprise would play as big a part in their attack as dragons and numbers would. With the help of Lady Malora and Lady Kinvara, by the time they reached the city they knew where most if not all the crossbowmen were hidden. Their own archers and a few men with knives were tasked with seeing the crossbowmen dead or dealt with. Jaime himself being one of those sent against the men. At his own request that was.

"' Tis not your place to go on such a mission, Ser Jaime," Aegon said after he'd told him what he wished to do.

" Yet go I must, your grace. You need someone to co-ordinate the attack and you yourself will be high atop Rhaegal will you not?"

" I have men of the Fiery Hand, Ser. Unsullied and Daario Naharis to lead the attack."

" Yet none are a Dragonguard, your grace."

Aegon had reluctantly agreed after he'd seen just how determined Jaime was to lead the attack. He'd wished him well and told him that once it was done, he was to make his back to the boats that had taken them to their assembly point. Jaime had welcomed the king's concerns and had listened and accepted his advice. He was privy to the other aspects of the attack on Myr and so he knew full well why the king wished them to use the cover of night both for their own attack and their later escape.

As for how they were to gain entry into the walled city, he left that to Lady Kinvara to organize. The red priestess somehow making contact with her fellow servants of R'hllor inside the city and they then arranging a meeting with them on the outskirts of it. Their representative was a woman of no more than eight and ten Namedays and Jaime wondered if she had any true idea of what they had planned. Caring not truly whether she did or not, he instead simply asked the one question that he needed an answer to.

"You found a way inside?" he asked the young dark-haired girl.

"I had not expected so many… but yes, I have a way."

He should have known it was to be sewers that they'd use to get into the city. Should have prepared himself for the smell of waste and worse. By the time they'd come out the other side of the sewer tunnel, Jaime was almost of the belief that he'd never smell anything but its foulness ever again. Knowing that if things went wrong this night it would matter not, Jaime readied to continue on the mission he'd been tasked with. After bidding the red priestess farewell, he split the men into their groups. Then together with four other men, he set about his task.

For a city that was soon to be besieged, Myr readied itself not. True the gates and walls were defended far more than they would normally be. Inside those gates and walls, however, life carried on as if there was not an army and dragons making their way to take this city for their own. He and his men were paid little attention. They moved about the streets as if they had lived here all their lives and Jaime could only pray that the other groups were just as fortunate.

When he saw the tower in front of him, he smiled broadly but briefly. They'd gotten to it without incident but now their real troubles could begin. A nod to two of his men had them start to fight against each other in the street. The distraction working just as Jaime had hoped it would and when the two guards came running, Jaime and the man from the Fiery Hand were ready for them.

"You all know what you've to do. We leave none alive."

"As you command, Ser Jaime."

Three Northmen and a man from the Fiery Hand, that was whom he'd selected to come with him. All of them had volunteered to go into the city and take down the Myrish Crossbowmen, even knowing the dangers involved in such a task. To protect those who followed them and to serve their king, queen, and princess. That's all the words he had needed to hear and so now, sword in hand, Jaime and four men moved through the tower and readied to kill men who slept and those who did not.

Around the city, there would be similar things happening right now. Some men dying in their beds, others as they moved to take up their places on the walls, and some as they stood atop those very walls. All in all, almost five hundred men would lose their lives this night, if the gods were with them that was. If not, then they'd either not get them all, or many of those who'd volunteered to do so would meet their own ends. Entering the first room, stabbing his sword into the body of the man who slept unawares, Jaime let that be his guide.

Four and ten men he killed before the task was done. Close to sixty men had met their ends at the hands of him and the four men with him. Not a single one of them was injured or discovered and only two had to actually kill men who were awake. Jaime was one of those who'd had to do so. Leaving the tower behind, they once again moved through the city and made their way back to the entrance of the sewers. The foul smell, however, was far more welcome this time than it had been the last.

Once outside the city, it was back to the boats that had carried them to shore that they made their way to. Jaime was more than happy to see so many of those who'd been sent here had made it back too. There were a few who bore some injuries and they'd lost almost a dozen men from the hundred that had been sent. Yet they'd taken down five times that number and while there were still a few crossbowmen left, they were few enough to deal with.

"Our King, Queen, and the Princess thank you all for your service," Jaime said as the boats were loaded up and they rowed back to the ships. Behind them, a bright light shone brightly as Rhaegal and Aegon began their own attack on the city.

Daenerys.

She watched as Aegon paced the shore. The three dragons behind them as he awaited the signal. Off in the distance, the ships readied to sail into the bay where they knew the Myrish Fleet and its pirate captains awaited. Some distance away, Ser Jorah, Ned Dayne, Jon Connington, and Tormund led the army that would attack the city itself. While far from danger and barely able to be seen from the shore, Ser Brienne and Ghost along with Lyarhaex watched over Rhaella.

Dany stood next to her Goodsister, her niece. Rhaenys bearing her own worries and fears for the battle to come. Both those for herself, Aegon, and Dany, and those for her husband too. Aegon had made it clear to them all that this battle could well be different from any they'd faced thus far. That the dangers the Myrmen posed were ones that gave even him pause. Their crossbows were something that he feared far more than even the Night King or Belicho Staegone, or so Dany believed.

It was why they wore extra padding under their armor. Why he had bid them to fly high and only drop low when the dragons were loosing their flames. Looking at him as he paced the shore, Dany would wager it was why he did so. His fears for their men and for themselves were ones that only the morrow would chase away. Taking Rhaenys' hand in her own, she squeezed it tightly and then moved to join her husband. Aegon welcoming her presence with a forced smile.

"All will be well, my love," she said softly.

"Aye, I know," Aegon replied. Before she or he could say anything more, the arrow lit up the sky and Aegon nodded to her.

A quick kiss from her husband's lips, with no words spoken to her or to Rhaenys, and then all three of them climbed atop their dragon's backs. As Rhaegal took to the sky, Drogon and Balerion followed after him. Her wild and fierce son for once letting his quieter brother lead the way.

They flew low over their own ships. The dragons themselves giving them the signal for their attack. Over the sea and then high into the sky before Aegon drew Longclaw and looked their way. Dany hoped he could see the smile she bore on her face. That he took the meaning from the words of love and comfort she offered him even if he could not hear those words himself. She prayed for his safe return and then watched as Lightbringer began to shine and as Rhaegal flew onward to the city itself.

How he was able to direct the light she knew not. A part of her had even thought that after they'd dealt with Belicho, that would be the last of Lightbringer too. Tonight she was more than happy it was not. Looking to Rhaenys and Balerion, Dany shouted out that it was time and they began their descent. Beneath them lay a pirate's fleet. Ships that had abandoned their posts in the Stepstones so they could come to Myr's aid. Knowing not that they'd not only not truly be able to do so but in leaving those accursed islands they'd sealed their own and the islands' fate.

"Dracarys," she said as the first ship came into view. Drogon loosing his flames and the ship was almost obliterated by their ferocity.

Her son had fed off her emotions. The worries she felt for Aegon, Rhaenys, and herself, for their men, and for Rhaella should anything happen to them, all combining to make Drogon even more fierce than he normally was. Looking to where Balerion was doing likewise, Dany believed that Rhaenys' dragon felt the same way too. Balerion's flames were just as fierce as Drogon's to her eyes and the ship that the blue dragon had loosed them on was soon lost to the sea.

Over and over, ship after ship. They decimated the fleet so much that by the time their own ships sailed into the bay, the battle at sea was done. Leaving only the battle by land to be won. Ahead of them, Lightbringer shone so brightly that its light outstripped even that of the moon. The night seemed almost like day and Dany would wager that there were people in the city who'd not be able to see come the morrow.

With the ships dealt with, she considered bidding Drogon to join in the attack on the city, and yet she did not do so. Aegon had begged both her and Rhaenys to deal only with the ships and though they'd both argued with him, in the end, they'd agreed that was what they'd do. It was to be left to Rhaegal and her husband. To Jorah, Tormund, Ned Dayne, Jon Connington, and their armies, to win the rest of the day. Their fight was now done and as she took one last look into the bright shining light, Dany prayed that Aegon's soon would be too.

"Come back to me, my love. Come back to us," she said softly as after one last flight around the bay below her, Dany flew toward the ship her daughter was on.

Tormund.

King Crow had insisted he wear not only armor but that it was padded too. Tormund found it uncomfortable and ill-fitting and yet had done as he'd been bid. He'd seen the worries in his friend's expression and knew that he'd not feel that way were those worries not true. That he wasn't the only one that King Crow had told to be better armored only proving that even more so.

When he'd asked his friend why he feared these men more than most, he'd been shown just what a crossbow could truly do. Not even armor stopped it from piercing the flesh beneath it or so it seemed to Tormund. He'd then volunteered to be among the men sent into the city to kill the fuckers who wielded the infernal things. Only to find it was the sister fucker and not he who was given command of those men. Tormund instead was to ride with the Bear Knight, the leader of the Cockless Men, The Griffin, and the young man who'd been wed to Jon's sister.

They'd been given strict orders as to how and when to attack. Been told that light and fire would lead the way and open the gates for them. Each of them had listened keenly as Aegon laid out the plans for their assault on the city and implored them to follow those plans to the letter. No diversions, no divergence, just do as they were bid and with the gods' good fortune, this would be the last fight any of them knew. Something that at first Tormund had taken the meaning of wrong.

" You think we'll die?" he asked worriedly. Not afraid of death itself as he'd lived under its shadow for most of his life, but not understanding why Jon now feared it so.

" NO!" Jon said firmly. "I meant it not as that. Though well we both know that all fights come with the possibility of such."

" Then what?"

" I'm tired of fighting, Tormund. I've had my fill of it." Jon sighed. "I want to know naught but peace for the rest of my days."

" Peace is fucking boring, Jon Snow." he laughed.

" I could do with being bored for a while," Jon replied, his own laughter muted. "Lady Malora and Lady Kinvara, both say that this is it. That this is the last fight that need ever be won. I find I long for it to be true."

At first, Tormund had put Jon's attitude down to what he'd had to do with his sister. Then with how he was when he was his wife and daughter. The closer it got to the fight itself, however, the more Tormund worried that there was something else at play here. He remembered far too well the words that Mance had said to him years earlier. Words that had in the end proved far too prophetic. The King Beyond the Wall too had tired of fighting and had prayed and hoped his days of it were done. Mance had gotten his wish in the end, just not how he or Tormund would have wanted it to be.

"No! Jon Snow will see the morrow and know many days to come," he said determinedly.

They were lined up and they had easily surrounded the city. The army had disembarked from the ships two days earlier so they could make their way to it unseen. Out in the bay dragons loosed their flames on an outmatched fleet while above their heads light shone down and a dragon readied to loose its own on the city in front of them.

Cheers rang out as Rhaegal unleashed a wave of flame on those atop the walls. The green dragon then seemed to float in the air as its flames burned the gates ahead of them. All the while, Lightbringer shone its light as brightly as the sun and though they needed to turn their head after a few moments of looking into that light, they at least could do so. Those in front of where the green dragon once again flew, could very much not and as Rhaegal flew over the city itself, the extent of his wrath and rage was soon laid bare.

The gates were no more and their attack horns rang out and men and horses all rushed forward as one. No arrows came from atop the walls to slow them down. There were no crossbowmen in sight and none to stop them from entering the city as they wished. Once inside, Tormund readied himself for attacks that never came and looked to the others who seemed just as surprised as he was.

"Is it done?" he asked to no reply.

Some rode further into the city. Down the widest of the streets and Tormund was both glad and disappointed to hear the sounds of fighting in the distance. Dismounting from his own horse and together with more than fifty men, he moved down through the smaller side streets. For some time they found none to oppose them. Going so long without sight or sound of anyone that they'd almost been lulled into a false sense of security.

His heckles were up, however. Tormund was sure that a fight was to occur and so he bid those with him to not let their guard down. When it came they were ready for it. The attack faltered as those who ambushed them found they were outmatched and their foes, unsurprised. Swords, maces, and spears were all used to devastating effect as men who'd known and lived war fought against those who had very much not.

His pain when it came surprised him. Tormund was far from any who wished him harm, or so he had thought. A bolt in his shoulder showed that he had been mistaken and a spear was quickly thrown into the man who'd fired that bolt. The Myrish Crossbowman was no match for the fierce man of the North whom Tormund now offered a thankful nod. A few inches to the left, and it would have been his heart and not his shoulder that had been pierced. Had the man's aim been just a little higher, then it would have been his head or throat that the bolt would have struck.

"The luck of the gods," he said to himself as he ripped the bolt out and was then helped to stem the flow of blood from the open wound.

It was the only injury that he or any of those with him suffered. Another war wound to remind him of the many battles he'd fought alongside Jon Snow. Upon reaching the center of the city and rejoining the Bear Knight, Tormund listened as the tale of their victory was told. Looking to the sky he saw no sign of the green dragon and the shining light from Jon Snow's sword was nowhere to be seen.

A woman moved to him and offered to clear his wound and see it cared for, but his worries for his friend wouldn't allow him to give her leave to do so. Worries he bore right until the moment he saw Jon Snow walk with that great white wolf of his and worries that he found he would be relieved to know no more.

Lady Malora.

Aegon had come to her as they traveled to Myr. The king for once showed some worries and doubts about the fight to come. A fight that Malora believed he hoped would be the last one he'd ever have to take part in. He'd asked both her and Lady Kinvara to seek the aid of the gods and to help show him the swiftest path to victory and so as Kinvara looked to the fires, Malora sought her answers from a thousand eyes and one.

As she looked through the eyes of birds as they flew over Myr and the numerous rats, mice, cats, and dogs as they moved around its streets, Malora saw what it was that worried Aegon so. While in terms of men, their forces dwarfed the Myrish ones by more than ten to one, it was only truly the Myrish Crossbowmen that Aegon was concerned with. The city would fall, and their armies and dragons would be successful in seeing Myr brought into the empire. Yet Malora worried that it could come at too great a cost for Aegon to bear.

So she had then sought out where the Crossbowmen were to be placed. She'd listened to the plans laid out by the Magisters and then went in search of the towers and guardrooms that would house the men tasked to carry out those plans. All of them had been given but two orders. Take down as many important members of Aegon's army as they can and aim for the Dragonriders and not the dragons. Something she told Aegon the first chance she got and found that Kinvara too had been shown much the same.

" You can find where these men will be?" Aegon asked.

" I can, my prince."

" I'll need you to draw maps, my lady, many maps."

She had done as he'd bid and had then listened as their battle plans were changed. Aegon alone would fly over the city while Daenerys and Rhaenys would instead deal with the ships in the bay. Lightbringer was then to be used in a way that even Malora wasn't certain Aegon could manage to do. Though she did have faith in him to be able to do so should he truly wish it. After that, it was time to wait and worry and she did as much of that as Aegon, Daenerys, and Rhaenys did. Only their time with Princess Rhaella, it seemed was enough to allow any of them to put thoughts of the battle to one side.

When they dropped anchor and saw the dragons fly off ahead of them, Malora once again went searching with her thousand eyes and one. She sat in her cabin, eyes closed, as she watched Jaime Lannister lead the men Aegon had tasked with taking out the Crossbowmen, going about their deadly business. All but one of the marks she'd made on crudely drawn maps of the city were soon being crossed off. While atop the walls of the city themselves, men fell to unseen arrows or lost their lives to the swiftness of a blade across their throat.

As Lightbringer began to shine, Malora looked to the queen and the princess and their attack on the ships. She'd found no Crossbowmen aboard them during her searches of them, yet those searches had not been full or extensive. In the end, it mattered not. Drogon and Balerion did their jobs and did them well and the fleet that Myr had once been so proud of, was now no more. The queen and the princess were unhurt and out of danger which now allowed for Malora to turn all her eyes to see that the same was true for the king.

Atop Rhaegal, Aegon unleashed wave after wave of fiery death. The men on the walls all fell before any could even truly let loose an arrow or order a catapult to be fired. Once the men were dealt with, it was to the gates that Aegon then turned his attention. They too found themselves to be no match for a dragon's flames. With the front of the city now defenseless, the army moved forward and rode and ran into the city itself. Malora looked on as they moved down streets wide and narrow and cut down any resistance they faced.

Rhaegal had moved on to the rear and sides of the city. The green dragon quickly made sure that no reinforcements could be deployed and cleared the path for the army proper. It took her a moment to recognize the danger. Malora, at first, not connecting the place she saw now through an eagle's eye with the last remaining bastion of Crossbowmen. Had it not been for the voice she heard in her head, then she may not have done so until it was too late.

" Protect the prince. Protect our chosen."

The eagle screeched as loudly as it could. It's flight taking it right next to the green dragon. Ignoring the pain it felt from looking too closely into the light, it did as Malora bid and almost attacked Aegon in order to get his attention. Once it had done so, it flew to where the Crossbowmen hid and it hovered before screeching loudly once more. Malora then prayed to her gods that her warning would not go unheeded.

In this, she had the gods' own favor. Aegon understood and Rhaegal soon loosed his flames with even more ferocity than he'd shown so far. The danger to his rider angered the green dragon and the men who posed that danger now felt his fiery wrath. It was over within moments. The tower the Crossbowmen were laying in wait in wasn't just burned, it was practically melted away. Not since Harrenhal had a dragon unleashed such fury against stone and the effect was both horrifying and comforting at the same time.

A loud roar from Rhaegal was thanks enough. Aegon then bid the green dragon to continue on with the task he'd set him to. Malora watched their progress from many different eyes. Happy then to finally open her own and look through only them once she knew the day was won.

"Your last fight, my prince," she said, smiling as she rose to her feet and walked out from her cabin. Malora was eager to hear them being ordered to take the ship to shore and to see the family she served reunited once again.

Myr 308 AC.

Aegon Targaryen.

They found the man hiding in the cellars of his manse. More than a hundred families were there with him. Women, children, the old and infirm, the Magister had gathered them all and offered them safe haven. At first, Aegon had believed he'd only done so in order to protect himself. That it was his own life that Magister Trombo truly cared for. While this was somewhat true, he later found out that, unlike his fellow Magisters, Trombo did actually care for the people too.

Through Lady Malora and Lady Kinvara, he found out that Trombo had pleaded with his fellow Magisters to make peace and join the Empire. He'd named them all fools and had then gone and sought as many people as he could to offer them protection from the fires that came their way. Dany, angered by the thoughts that any would see them as uncaring or the people as their targets, had at first refused to countenance what Aegon suggested to her. Only meeting with the man and talking to those he'd offered sanctuary to, eventually allowing her to do so.

As for his fellow Magisters, some had burned in Rhaegal's fires, while others were soon to lose their heads. Lady Malora, Lady Kinvara, and Trombo himself then being allowed to put forth names of those who'd live to see another sunrise. Three days was all it took to put the city to rights. A portion of its wealth was soon to be sent to King's Landing, oaths of fealty were now sworn and warnings given. The messages were sent from Myr to Lys, Tyrosh, and to Ibben. An order to their leaders to make their way to Myr and swear their fealty or reap the consequences of what not doing so would sow.

"Two Moons, Three at most," he said to himself as he made his way through the halls of the Manse that they'd taken for their base. The sound of happy laughter coming from the gardens soon forcing thoughts of men kneeling and the end of wars from his mind.

Walking out into the garden, he saw her as she and Ghost played. His daughter was growing quickly and though he'd been there for most of it, he felt he'd missed so much of it too. Something he promised himself he'd not do in the days, weeks, moons, and years to come.

"PAPA!" Rhaella shouted happily when she saw him, her little legs moving far more quickly than they had a right to as she then raced toward him. Her laughter rang out even more loudly as he swept her up in his arms and swung around while holding her tightly.

"My brave little dragon, want to fly, Rhaella?"

"Fly Papa, Rex Fly."

He spun her around once and then twice. Not caring how he looked or that he was an Emperor or a King. Neither of those titles brought him as much joy as being a husband and father did. Turning to Missandei as Rhaella began pleating up his hair, Aegon asked after Dany and found that she was meeting with the healers. His wife had given him the best news he'd heard since they'd found out she was with child for the first time. Rhaella was soon to have a little brother or sister to play her many games with.

"Tell my wife that Rhaella and I are in the sky, Missandei. We'll not be gone for long."

"Of course, your grace."

"Wave bye-bye to Missy, little dragon."

"Bye Bye Issy…" Rhaella said in her sing-along voice. His daughter then fought him off as he tickled her as they walked.

It was to Lyarhaex first that Aegon took her. The Indigo Dragon was happiest of all to spend time with his daughter and Aegon marveled at how Rhaella sounded as she spoke to her future mount. From there, it was to Drogon, his wife's dragon as keen as his own to greet his daughter. Finally, it was to Rhaegal and Aegon chuckled at the green dragon's excitement over the flight to come.

"Fly Papa!" Rhaella shouted. Her tone making it almost a demand rather than a request, and not even Aegon's kisses on her cheek were enough to make her accept any delay.

Both he and Dany had found this with their daughter. As she grew, so too did her wish to be atop a dragon's back. To be in the sky and look down on the lands below. Lands that one day she'd be the Empress of. He had wagered with Dany that Rhaella would not wait as many years as she hoped before she and Lyarhaex took to the sky. His wife, he knew, both feared and looked forward to the day she joined them atop her own dragon with equal measure.

Climbing up onto Rhaegal's back, holding Rhaella tightly to his chest, and then securing her in front of him. Aegon asked his daughter to command the green dragon to take to the sky and laughed softly at her use of Valyrian to do so. The word not truly sounding like it was supposed to do, but then again, it never truly did so in his own accent either.

"Sōvēs Rhaegal"

There was a point in his life when he thought he'd never know anything as incredible as taking to the sky atop a dragon. That looking down on the lands below as they flew over them, Aegon would never know such calm and peace. Over time, while he'd still found that to somewhat be true, he'd found that his true peace came at times like this. Flying with Rhaella, with her mother, the times when all three of them would take to the sky together, that was what true contentment was to Aegon. Only that and laying in his bed with his daughter between him and Dany with Ghost lying by the fire even came close.

How long they flew for, he knew not. Time lost all meaning as they soared through the sky. Only the knowledge that his wife and the babe she bore were down on the ground waiting on them was enough to get him to bid Rhaegal land. Rhaella for once not showing her disappointment as they did so and Aegon really should have known that Dany's time with the healer had come to an end. His wife there standing by Drogon waiting for them once they had landed.

"You flew without me," Dany said, her tone one of mock annoyance.

"She couldn't wait," he said as Rhaella looked at her mother and waited for her to take her in her arms.

"She or you." Dany chided as Rhaella began to tell her of their flight and how blue the sea and sky were.

"Aye, more me than her," he said before placing a soft kiss on his wife's cheek. "All is well?" he asked as the three of them headed back into the manse.

"All is well. The babe is as healthy as could be." Dany smiled.

"Then we owe much thanks to the gods."

"We do."

Later that night, he stood at the edge of the bed and watched them both as they slept. Rhaella had joined them in their bed after she'd claimed to have had a bad dream. Though Dany had seen right through their daughter's words and named them as the mummery they truly were. Still, neither of them could deny Rhaella anything, and some nights they much welcomed having her with them in their bed.

Ghost rested by the fire and Aegon knew that outside the door, Ser Brienne or Ser Jaime stood guard. The wars he'd worried he'd be fighting for the rest of his life were finally over, the peace he'd one day been certain he'd never know was soon to be truly at hand. Soon enough they'd be sailing back to Westeros. He'd see Davos, Arya, Gendry, and Robb once more. He, his family, their House, the future, all of it had seemed so far away and naught but a dream. A dream far better than the nightmare he'd had on a ship all those years ago.

"I'm a dragon and this is the life I choose to live," he said smiling as he quietly climbed into the bed and lay down with his family.