Claiming the Dragon

Aches or Amends

It had been nearly four months since the loss of her child when Rhaenyra made her way down into the Dragonpit, a heavy lump sitting low in her throat. Her racing heart beat in her ears but, outwardly, the only sound to be heard was the crunch of her steps on the dirt as she decended deeper into the tunnels. The princess set down her torch and fell to her knees in front of the pot of embers. Alone in the dark depths, she picked up the black egg that had once reminded her of Vhagar and pressed it to her bosom, a single tear sliding down her cheek, and dripping onto the dirt, where the ground consumed it.

"Nyke bōsa syt ao," she whispered softly, "tolī than kostā gīmigon. Avy jorrāelan, Daemyra." I miss you, more than you could know. I love you Daemyra." She pressed her lips to the warm egg, choking down a sob, and placed it back in the pot. The egg would remain there, undisturbed for the rest of her living days. She would not allow it to be reclaimed during her lifetime. The princess sucked in a heavy, shaking breath and rose from the ground, dusting off her leathers. As she made her way out of the Dragonpit, she thought on the egg, wondering if it was meant to hatch at all.

She had chosen it for Baelon, and he had lived mere hours. She selected it again, for her own child, and Daemyra never drew a single breath. What if Alicent had been right and the Gods wanted to punish her? She shook her head and swallowed the thought, burying it deep down in the abyss of her mind. She wouldn't think it; she refused to allow Alicent's venom to consume her.

Still, Rhaenyra knew she needed to move forward. She had been frozen in her grief for far too long and she hoped saying goodbye would help her heal. The morning was cool and grey as she princess pressed her face against Syrax's cheek, murmuring soft apologies for neglecting her for so long. Rhaenyra mounted her yellow dragon quickly, relishing the familiarity of the saddle as she secured herself.

"Sōvegon, Syrax." The dragon's wings were spread wide the moment the command escaped her lips. They ascended in seconds, climbing high over the coastal fog. She directed Syrax into a sharp dive, pulling up on the chains at the very last second, smiling as her pulse quickened. The freedom was intoxicating; the feeling of flight filling her and leaving her grief momentarily behind. She rode Syrax for hours, until her limbs ached, and the dragon chirped her fatigue.

They were nearly upon King's Landing when Syrax gave a shriek and veered sharply to her right, nearly tossing Rhaenyra from the saddle, barely avoiding collision. The princess gripped the chains tightly, gritting her teeth as her dragon struggled to regain her stability on the wind. The Blood Wyrm trilled, and Rhaenyra glanced over her shoulder, locating Caraxes through the mist. The red dragon twisted around with a loud, keening whistle, quickly catching up with Syrax.

Daemon and the princess made eye contact and she received a small smile before Caraxes dipped into a quick descent, Syrax following closely behind. Apprehension settled in the base of her stomach as Rhaenyra dismounted. Daemon had been gone for three days, his disappearances becoming more and more frequent. Rhaenyra was certain she knew what he was doing, though she did not want to know with whom. She didn't resent him for it; she resented herself. Every time they incited intimacy, her body shut down; returning images of her labor making her physically ill. Still, the idea of her prince lying with others made her heart ache.

She had scarcely slid to the ground before Daemon was catching her by the hand, pulling her close, pressing his forehead to hers. The prince tucked her into his tight embrace. She was enveloped in comfort for only a brief moment before the scent of wildflowers assaulted her nose and she abruptly shoved him away.

"You could at least bathe after," she snapped at him, stomach churning. With a grimace and a scoff, she turned on her heels and marched away.

"Rhaenyra! Rhaenyra!" She could hear him calling behind her, each time his voice drew closer, and her pace increased. Shaking her head angrily, she continued to advance up Aegon's Hill not bothering to glance back at him. "Fucking hells, Rhaenyra, wait!" She made it to the keep before he could catch her and, by then, he stopped shouting her name, trying to avoid unwanted attention. By the time they reached their chambers, Daemon was fuming.