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❛ the brave men did not kill dragons. the brave men rode them. ❜
━━━━ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌𝐒 𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐀𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐌𝐏, the few Stark men that survived the disaster of the Red Wedding taking a sip from their goblets. Their king, Robb Stark, and his mother, Catelyn Tully, stood around Vhaehrys as she pushed, sweat lining her brow as one of the nurses from the camp softly aided the Targaryen through the birth. Robb's fingertips were turning white from the force his wife was gripping them, but he didn't care, pushing the hair that collected on her forehead away. Catelyn pressed a rag against her skin, wiping off all of the sweat that accumulated there, whispering words of encouragement.
The poor nurse, a girl only of eighteen years, had never aided a woman giving birth and had asked one of the bannerman to call for a midwife. The rushed voices outside of the tent alerted them of her arrival, the doorway of the tent coming open to a tall woman with a dark complexion, rolling up her sleeves to her elbows as the man beside her carried the bag full of instruments she would need to use.
"Get her up," she ordered, her voice deep and soothing, but all the same controlling. "It'll be easier if she stands up for the birth."
***
IT TOOK MANY HOURS for the birth, Vhaehrys screaming in pain as Robb and the man, who they came to know as Xalhor Qaaxos, kept her up while the midwife proceeded to do her job. When the sun finally set and the fires were lit, the baby finally came into the world, screaming and crying as his little hands curled into fists.
Tears trekking down her cheeks, Vhaehrys pulls her arms out of the men's grasp, slumping down to the ground. "Here you are," the thick accent of the Summer Isles spoke through the air, and the midwife passed the new mother the son she's waited for nine months to come. She passes the boy to the queen, Robb dropping to his knees next to his wife, tears welling in his eyes at the sight of his son.
After everything, the miscarriage three years prior, the war, the death, destruction, and betrayal, the Starks finally had a new addition to their family.
***
"ARE YOU SURE ABOUT THIS, VHAHERYS?" Robb cradled his son in one arm, holding on to Vhaehrys' chin with the other. She nods at him, her dragon, Aegon, letting out a growl as he waited impatiently as to why he was being forced to stay on the ground while his siblings flew around. After the fall of the Freys and the destruction of most of the Stark army, Robb and Vhaehrys went into hiding while they recuperated from what had happened. They wanted to go back to Winterfell but didn't have the military strength to take it back from the Boltons, who were fighting Theon to take control of it. They couldn't stay at the Twins, as the Lannister army would march there to kill them all.
So, they only had one choice left. They retreated deep into the mountains, where there were very few human interactions outside their own.
"I'm sure, Robb," she puts one hand on Robb's shoulder, placing the other one on top of Eddard's head. "He's already larger than a horse, he won't drop me." Robb, still unsure of the suggestion his wife had given him, merely nodded his head and bent down to press a kiss to her soft lips. A soft groan from Eddard forced them to pull away, Vhaehrys pressing a kiss to the top of the silver curls that had begun sprouting a moon prior. "At least, be careful," Robb pulls her in for one more kiss, pressing his forehead against her own.
"I know, Robb," Vhaehrys laughs lightly, pulling away to walk towards Aegon. The dragon squared his shoulders, leaning down enough so his chest was touching the ground below him. His left wing came down to form a step for Vhaehrys, a rumble coming from deep in his chest. Vhaehrys felt the heat coming from within his skin, something she always found so comforting, remembering when he was a young pup and curled into her as he slept. Now a human baby had taken his place, and Aegon slept near the opening of the tent so he can protect the family he had grown up in. Jahaera and Vhagar would fall asleep near the men that had survived the Red Wedding, protecting them from danger.
"Rytsas, ñuha dōna valītsos," she whispered to him, straddling his back. He didn't move, seeming to wait for her to do something. (Hello, my sweet boy.) She grabbed onto the spikes on the base of his neck, the ones that she saw never moved and proved to be the same size as her gripping hands. "Sōvegon." Robb saw something click in Aegon's mind, saw him shake his head as he picked himself up and begin walking towards the edge of the cliff they stood on. (Fly.)
He picked up speed, going at a steady run, his wings picking up in order to prepare themselves for the moment he took off the ground. He felt his son beat his little fist against his tunic, garbles coming from his mouth as he looked up with clear blue eyes, the same blue that would stare Robb back in the face in the looking glass. "Look at your mother, my son," he picked him up enough to get him in a sitting position, turning him to face Vhaehrys. One final, strong beat of his wings took him off the ground, flying over the ocean below, a growl emitting from his throat.
Vhaehrys never felt freer, more alive. Yes, all of her life achievements meant something, from her wedding to Robb, losing her maidenhead to him, having their son, and everything else she had done in her almost sixteen years. But this was something different, something much more than just simple things everyone else goes through. She, a Targaryen, was flying the skies again as they always were in the past. In over a century, a Targaryen roamed the skies.
I hope you are proud of me, your descendent, Aegon. I am blood of your blood.
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