89

Chapter 89: Chapter 55/Interlude: RecessionNotes:

This is the last chapter of the penultimate act. The next arc of this fic will be the last. It's been quite the run, my friends. With many ups and downs.

But I'm afraid all good things have to come to an end, and the finish line is in sight.

I know I have been pretty irresponsible with my update schedule, given how busy I've been this year, but I'll try my best to finish this fic before I fly off for uni in September.

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

Chapter Text

"Plan for ten problems, get screwed over by an eleventh. Plan for eleven, get screwed over by a twelfth. No matter how thoroughly you plan, something unexpected always goes wrong.

-My Mother

114 AC, King's Landing

The explosion was over, but the fire was not.

Great gouts of green flame leaped from house to house, reducing wood to cinders in instants. Even stone was not spared, outright burning away like parchment in a fire.

Eight-year-old Essie ran as fast as she could, feet pattering across the uneven ground, until she tripped and stumbled. The rest of the mob around her let her fall, uncaring as they all ran, desperate to avoid dying.

Someone stomped on her leg, and there was a sickening crack.

Essie whimpered, swallowing pain and tears, knowing right there and then that she would never run again. The green fire was coming, a furious wall of undying devil flame that would incinerate her in an instant.

And then a single person dropped out of the sky.

Long gold-silver hair fluttering in the wind like a pennant, her belly heavy with babe, Rhaenyra Targaryen thrust out her hand at the fire.

And the fire stopped.

The blaze halted in it's tracks, as though it had hit an invisible wall, rising ever higher like a wave slamming into a rock, trying and failing to crest this barrier.

A flick of her wrist, and the fire turned back, like a charge of knights routing. Flames fell back onto flames, sparing the entire row of city blocks behind the Crown Prince.

Essie suddenly shivered, feeling her breath mist up before her.

The cold was oppressive.

How was it so cold, with such a blaze mere feet away?

Rhaenyra's indigo eyes turned to consider the small girl, and Essie scrambled backwards involuntarily in fear. Everyone knew that nobles were nothing but trouble, and royalty the worst of the lot. Though popular for her many reforms and job creations in the city, Prince Rhaenyra was also known to be a brutal person, and Essie prayed to all the gods above that she would not be the next person on the Dragonqueen's chopping board.

The Prince flicked a hand at Essie, and to her complete and utter shock her broken leg immediately snapped back into place, as though the break had never happened in the first place. She gingerly rose to her feet in stunned silence, disbelieving her eyes. That was months of healing, done in a blink of an eye.

"Run along now, kid." Rhaenyra the Dragonqueen ordered. "Let the grown-ups fix this mess here."

Even as Essie stammered out a response, the Hand of the King frowned, as though she heard something unpleasant.

"Daenys, repeat what you just said." Rhaenyra the Dragonqueen demanded, speaking to thin air as though there were someone beside her.

There was a pause, before the Heir to the Iron Throne grimaced.

"Fuck. That's not good. Get the rest of your siblings on those. Coordinate with the Legions and Goldcloaks, evacuate the districts and begin damage control. We can't have the blaze spreading any further." She paused. "What's Laena's ETA?"

Rhaenyra suddenly broke out cursing in some foreign tongue, all lilting and singsong syllables that made no sense. Had the Heir to the Iron Throne gone mad now? Speaking nonsense words and talking to the wind?

"Fine then. Then we'll have to contain the main fire by ourselves."

There was another pause.

"Fuck it, we'll just pass it off as divine intervention from the Seven or some other bullcrap." The Dragonqueen hissed. "I am not consigning a quarter of the city to burn."

"Uh, Your Grace…" Essie tried, only to immediately shy away as Rhaenyra turned to face her once more.

"I recommend that you start running in that direction." The Crown Prince ordered, jerking a thumb away from the blaze. "Sooner or later, you'll run into a Legion firebreak."

Frost crept across the street, cobblestones coated with tiny cobwebs of ice as both ash and snow began to fall all around them.

"Tarry not, or you'll die."

And on that ominous note, Rhaenyra immediately shot two hundred feet into the air, launching off the ground like a cork out of a bottle, before shooting off in the direction of the blaze, flying though the sky with neither dragon nor skycart to support her.

Essie rubbed her eyes a bit, to reassure herself that she wasn't seeing things. Rhaenyra was a speck high in the sky, fast fading from sight.

Essie did as she was told.

She ran.

——— 

Baela ran at a full sprint across rooftops, uncaring at the amount of property damage she was causing in her haste. Much more would be lost, should the blaze get out of control.

To the Dragonseeds' collective dismay, the smaller fires had begun breaking out across the city after that teeth-shaking explosion. Their best guess was that pieces of burning rubble had been blasted away from Ground Zero, and were now causing a slew of smaller fires to break out wherever they landed.

As the fastest and most agile Dragonseed left in the capital, Baela was tasked with heading to the bulk of the smaller blazes and putting them out before they got too big.

Spotting a flash of green at the edge of her vision, Baela smoothly nocked a dragonglass arrow before leaping across a street in a single bound. 

The shot was slightly off, Baela saw, landing an inch to the side of the heart of the fire. Still, the arrow did its job. Boosting the magic of the wildfire, the blaze immediately swelled in intensity and heat, before guttering out an instant later with nothing left to burn. Baela's arrow had made the fire use all of it's fuel up too quickly, before it had a chance to spread and feed on other sources.

"Daena would not have missed so." Baela muttered to herself, as she continued sprinting atop rooftops.

She leaped across another street, seeing a bunch of boys assembled in a makeshift bucket brigade. Alas, wildfire was one of those substances which floated atop water, which meant that their efforts to extinguish the flames was having something of an opposite effect.

Nocking an arrow, Baela fired a warning shot, the lead boy yelping as his tin bucket was shot out of his hands, clattering and scraping across the street.

"Don't use water!" Baela shouted, landing atop the roof of the well the boys were drawing from. "Wildfire can't be extinguished with water! Throw sand on the fire instead!"

She did not wait to see if they followed her commands, instead leaping off of the well and landing atop a shophouse. A heartbeat later and she was sprinting off in a different direction.

"Rhaegar, fire 17 is out of control, bunch of boys threw water all over it." Baela reported, tapping the twisted obsidian sphere in her left ear. "Moving onto fire 18."

"Understood. Sending Legion firefighters in." Rhaegar's voice sounded in her ear, as though he were right beside her. "And where the hell is Aerion? None of his designated fires are out yet."

"Like he'll actually bother show for this." Baela scoffed. "I bet he's busy sipping wine and jerking off to the screams of the dying from atop the hill."

There was long silence, during which Baela shot two more arrows, causing another two smaller fires to burn out before they could cause any more damage.

"Found him." Rhaegar disdainfully said. "Fucking asshole is doing exactly what you said. And Vaelon and Baelon are right beside him. They seem to think it's a game."

"Useless idiots." Baela snapped. "Fine, I'll cover his share of the work. Find Bell and…"

Baela stuttered as she remembered that Bell had been in Flea Bottom when the Wildfire went off. Ground Zero.

There was a long horrified beat as it slowly dawned on Baela that Bell— her favourite sister outside of Daena and Rhaena— might very well be dead.

"I'll find Daemon. He'll get them to stop slacking off." Rhaegar gently said, before killing the connection.

Swallowing her tears, Baela continued running. There would be time to mourn later, after the fires had been extinguished.

———

114 AC, Oldtown

"Daemon. Aerion and the twins are being useless back at the Red Keep. Go remind them that we have no slackers on this ship." Rhaegar ordered.

"Numbskulls." Daemon sneered. "On it."

Satisfied that the situation was handled, Rhaegar flicked his wrist and terminated the connection, turning his eyes back onto the table before him.

He, Rhaenyra and Daenys had been trying— and largely failing—for years to reproduce glass candles of their own. It was only recently when Melisandre joined their little think-tank that they'd started making progress in the work.

There had been a few breakthroughs, but there were two major ones in use today.

The first was a set of smaller obsidian spheres, capable of fitting in a person's ear. They only had two functions; transmitting and recovering sound. It was these that the Dragonseeds were using to communicate even as they ran all around the city.

The second was essentially an obsidian 'eye'. A great sphere the size of a bowling ball made of black glass, it allowed Rhaegar to see out of it as though it were a real eye. Rhaella was holding this one from atop the highest tower in the Red Keep, enabling a bird's eye view of King's Landing to be projected out of the glass candle on Rhaegar's table.

Using these two, in conjunction with a handful of other artefacts, Rhaegar was capable of directing the firefighting effort in King's Landing all the way from the Citadel, halfway across the continent.

Rhaegar contemplated the hologram before him, surveying once more the battle lines against this unprecedented blaze.

The Wildfire explosion had instantly annihilated much of Flea Bottom, but the green flames had spread outwards. Much of the surrounding low districts— the buildings all densely-packed and made of wood— was ablaze. Already, the fire had spilled out across Rosby Road on the southeast, and was slowly and inexorably creeping it's way up Aegon's Hill.

On the western edge of the inferno, Legion and Goldcloak first responders were out in force. Sappers were collapsing houses along the Street of the Sisters to serve as firebreaks, and makeshift infirmaries set up.

Northwest of Flea Bottom was the steep side of Rhaenys' Hill, leading up to the Dragonpit. There were few settlements there, and the wind was blowing in the opposite direction anyway, which meant that the fire wasn't having much luck in climbing up the hill. Given time, it might succeed, but that was a problem for the future.

The eastern edge of the blaze was the manse district, which Rhaenyra had already written off as a loss. Too far away from Legion and Goldcloak barracks, and further away from anything of real importance in the city It was a cold choice, but Rhaegar could understand the logic. The manse district was mostly made up of the mansions owned by nobles from outside the city, as a place to stay when they were in the capital for business, but otherwise left empty nine-tenths of the time.

While Rhaegar was certain the fat cats would whine about their opulent mansions being burned down, he had no sympathy, for the city center was far more densely populated, and far more lives were at stake there.

And speaking of which…

"Uncle Vaegon, grab Haegon and the girls, alongside as many maesters whom specialise in healing burns as you can." Rhaegar instructed. "And prep the skycart for takeoff. We'll fly as soon as… what's his name—um, Grey Ghost, yes!— as soon as the rider of Grey Ghost arrives."

Even as he spoke the order, Rhaegar couldn't help but turn a grim face to the situation. Even by dragon, Oldtown was easily six hours of flying away from King's Landing. A lifetime, for those wounded by the blaze.

And with Naerys having freshly arrived just two months prior to train healing magics with Haegon in Oldtown, that meant that King's Landing was completely devoid of any natural healers.

But… there was one option. As things happened, Rhaegar did know a third natural healer. And she was coincidentally less than an hour's flight away from King's Landing.

———

114 AC, King's Landing

Visenya drew her bow and shot a dozen arrows in a rough circle around the burning warehouse. Delineating the boundary for her spell, before climbing atop an undamaged guard tower nearby.

Brandishing her wand, Visenya began gesturing in a circular motion, slowly leeching precious oxygen out of the area encircled by her arrows. A minute later, and the wildfire had stopped raging. A second minute, and the blaze was flickering. A third, and it was smothered fully.

Satisfied that the blaze wasn't going to spread any further, Visenya leapt back down to street level and started retrieving her arrows.

"Rhaegar, blaze 6 is out. Which is my next target?" She asked, tapping the small sphere in her ear.

"Aemon and Lucerys are handling blazes 7 and 8, so you're after blaze 9, three blocks west."

"Roger that."

As Visenya took off running, she couldn't help but lament that so few Dragonseeds were currently in the capital. Less than half of the siblings were present, and worse, the half that was absent from the capital included most of the A-listers and a fair chunk of the B-listers among the Dragonseeds.

Daena, Shaeterys, Rhaegar…

Broadly speaking, although there were twelve Dragonseeds in King's Landing, less than half were actively helping in the fire suppression efforts.

Aerion and the twins were being useless. Rhaella was stuck at the Red Keep on overwatch duty. Bell and Viserra were most likely dead. And Daemon had been pulled out of the firefighting effort to try bully Aerion into getting off his fat ass.

Daenys was busy containing the main inferno, which while admirable and necessary, unfortunately meant that their best sorcerer was tied up and unable to help with the smaller fires slowing spreading across the city.

Baela was running around desperately trying to nip the fires in the bud, extinguish them before they got too big. But as time went on, there were fewer and fewer successful extinguishes. Which meant more blazes for Aemon, Lucerys and Visenya. 

"Where the fuck is Laena?" Visenya demanded. "We could use draconic air support right about now."

"Somewhere over Oldstones. ETA another hour and a half, at best." Rhaegar reported.

"Why the hell did she choose to fly the dragons so far away?!"

"Best I can tell, she was bored of the usual route around Dragonstone, and decided to go on a day trip to the Iron Islands for fun. It's just unfortunate timing." Rhaegar grimaced. "But luckily, I was able to find us someone else."

Visenya was about to make a truly scathing retort, when there was the sound of screeching in the air. Very familiar screeching, at that.

———

Descending from the clouds like a crimson comet, Caraxes unleashed a streak of dragonfire into the heart of the inferno, levelling entire city blocks with a single breath.

As they left the fire, Daena flew Caraxes as low and slow as she could, gliding mere feet above the rooftops of King's Landing.

"Jump!" Daena ordered, and her four companions obeyed.

Melisandre and Jaehaerys were first off, magic and a soft thatched roof cushioning their leap off of the dragon. Gapeth and Ezraa went next, the blue grace screaming at the top of her lungs as she clung onto Gapeth for dear life. They'd be fine though. Daena had dropped them on a relatively soft roof, and even if they were injured, Ezraa could heal anything up quickly.

As she ascended back into the sky, Daena saw her companions take off. Melisandre moving to help Daenys contain the blaze, and the guys sprinting for the nearest triage point, Ezraa slung over Gapeth's shoulder like a sack of turnips.

Rhaenyra teleported into existence less than a foot away from Daena.

The Dragonqueen was floating, streaking through the sky like smoke on wind, with naught but air beneath her legs.

"Continue strafing Flea Bottom. The faster we burn the place down, the faster the fire will run out of fuel." She ordered.

"Got it." Daena acknowledged. "I'll do north, you do south?"

Rhaenyra nodded, then teleported away.

Satisfied at that, Daena guided Caraxes into another strafing run, unleashing dragonfire on anything still standing. Anything that might still be consumed as fuel for the fire. Reducing entire city blocks to ash in an instant.

On the other side of the massive slum, Rhaenyra was striking out with telekinesis and hypergravity, flattening entire buildings with contemptuous ease. Smashing them to kindling that burnt up near-instantly in the furious inferno.

The Dragonqueen landed atop one of the few surviving structures; a tall tower made of stone bricks. She spun in a circle, hands sweeping out like a top, and the entire structure deconstructed. In a grand display of telekinesis, the tower was stripped down into its individual bricks, flying up and orbiting Rhaenyra like rings around a planet. Spinning ever faster and more powerfully.

A flick of her wrist, and the stones all shot out at near mach speeds. They smashed into the surviving buildings, punching straight through solid walls and floors like they were little more than parchment. Reducing half a dozen city blocks to rubble in less than a minute.

"How is it I'm the one with a dragon, and yet the less destructive of the two of us?" Daena ruefully muttered, before guiding Caraxes into another strafing run.

———

The fire blazed through the afternoon, with search-and-rescue operations continuing into the night.

There were thousands dead in the fire, and easily ten times that number of wounded.

I'd ordered every Dragonseed, maester and healer in the city to chip in to the triage efforts, but it was still bloody work. 

The Town Hall had been turned into an emergency hospital, but the lines of wounded stretched through the entire square in the heart of the city. Legionaries and goldcloaks sorted out the wounded, gave first aid and emergency supplies wherever possible, and kept order. Occasionally subduing people whom demanded that they be healed first with no regard to triage.

Haegon and Naerys walked though the crowds, moving wearily from one wounded to the next. I'd ordered them to ration their magic, healing people not back to perfection but only until they were stable. They'd been unhappy, but Ezraa had overruled my cousins, arguing that doing so would allow for more lives saved in the long run.

In a quiet corner, Melisandre leeched the remaining life force out of those too far gone to be saved. Years of their life. Years that they might have lived, had fate not been so cruel, were drained out of their dying carcasses. And with what she had stolen, the Red Priestess gave health back to those whom could might yet survive. Fanning dying sparks of life back into a flame.

Ezraa too, was in another quiet corner, slicing open cadavers as fast as she could, in order to harvest organs that could be used to save those still living. Her magic crept across the dying flesh, reinvigorating them and removing the possibility of rejection.

On the most brutal of beds, Rhaegar and Daenys taught emergency surgery to a dozen maesters. Sloughing off chipped and charred skin, reinflating lungs and transplanting organs harvested by Ezraa.

As for me, while I could easily have outstripped even the natural healers in terms of patients healed, I saw the situation and quickly came to a grim realisation. Even with triaging, there were too many wounded, too few able hands and too little time to save everyone.

And so I bought time for everyone.

In a grand effort requiring no less than seven dragons to supply power to me, I stole time from City Square, slowing its passing such that every minute outside lasted but a second inside. To counterbalance this, I gave the stolen time to those within Town Hall. Speeding it up such that every second outside was a whole minute inside.

A zone of slowed time for the wounded and a zone of accelerated time for the healers. Turning every second the wounded managed to stay alive into an hour for the healers to do their lifesaving work in the single hardest work of sorcery I'd ever performed.

I sat through the night atop a small stage near the entrance to Town Hall, surrounded by my Kingsguard. My eyes were closed in concentration, sweat and perspiration beading down my forehead.

It was only when a gentle hand shook me that I opened my eyes, wincing at the sunlight.

"Laena, report." I curtly ordered, getting to my feet and stretching my aching limbs. I was about seven months pregnant now, and although magic had allowed me to cheat the worst rigours of pregnancy, my concentration was at an end.

"The fire is out. And we've cleared the bulk of the wounded now." My girlfriend replied. "Search-and-rescue is still ongoing, but we will likely not require your help any more."

I said nothing, instead taking a look at the square before me. Indeed, much of the crowd was in far better shape now. Where last night had been a sea of dead and dying, now it was a sea of bandaged and comatose before me. While many would take weeks if not months to heal from their wounds, at least they were no longer in danger of dying.

It was almost harder to drop the spell than it was to erect it. I'd gotten so used to the crushing weight pressing down on my shoulders and mind that it took no small effort to remember how to put it down.

Gasping as the full exertion of my grand spell hit me, my vision swam and I nearly keeled over. Stopped only from collapsing by Laena sliding a hand under my shoulder.

Wordlessly, she slung my arm over her shoulder, and the two of us limped down off of the stage. While Laena tried to pull me towards the litter, I instead gestured that I wished to walk towards Flea Bottom, where the blaze first started.

"What's the fallout like?" I asked. "We've just revealed that we are mages in full sight of the public."

"Mysaria coordinated the cover-up." Laena replied. "Already, criers in the street are spreading word that upon seeing so many wounded before you, you knelt in prayer to the Mother to grant them a reprieve from the Stranger."

That was a… generous interpretation of the events that occured today, but I would take what I could get.

"But I levelled quite a few city blocks with magic, and openly flew across the city. Daenys and I erected wards in public to seal of the worst of the flames."

"Not that many witnesses, and Mysaria is spreading the idea that it was a chaotic time. Whom knows what sorts of heat hazes and hallucinations people can conjure up when frightened?"

The two of us walked past houses that were little more than charred skeletons, passed entire streets strewn with rubble and tread across a thick blanket of ash so deep it reached up to our ankles.

"Ezraa and Melisandre?"

"Foreign witches from Essos. You know the superstitions."

"Rhaegar and Daenys? The rest of the Dragonseeds?"

"The healers within Town Hall were magically compelled into secrecy by Daenys. As for the rest, same thing about hallucinations." Laena paused. "Or I suppose Miracles of the Seven. That's how Haegon and Naerys are getting away with all their healing."

"So… we got away with all the magic?"

"No. But you're the one whom told me that a lie gets halfway around the world, before the truth even gets it's pants on." Laena answered. "Maybe we didn't convince everyone, but we convinced enough to avoid pitchforks and torches."

"I suppose that's the best we can do."

We left it at that, for we'd reached Ground Zero.

The entire area was buried in ash and rubble, with what visible earth being completely reduced to glass from the heat. The only survivor from the blast was Dark Sister, stabbed into the ground, like a gravestone.

"This was no accident." I murmured, raising a shaking hand. "Look at the blast patterns."

Laena followed where I pointed, and my girlfriend's face twisted into a grimace.

"The orphanage was surrounded by alleyways too small for your retinue. This street at the front was the only logical place to dismount." My girlfriend grimly noted.

"The houses on the other side on the street were filled to the brim with wildfire, and the barrels were stacked in such a way that the bulk of the explosion was aimed towards the orphanage." I added.

"Most of the fire spread south and west, with comparatively less to the north and east." Laena remembered. "The exact direction we are now facing."

The two of us stood in silence, staring down the long field of ashes before us.

Just then, I heard something. A pile of ash and rubble in the corner started to shake.

"What—" I barely had time to get out, before a monster burst out of the pile, like a breaching whale.

A saurian beast seven feet tall and built like a bulldozer. Its scales were black as night, and lined with veins of glowing ichor. A pair of small vestigial wings protruded from its back, as did a long and scaly tail, flicking this way and that. Rivulets of molten steel dropped off of it's body, and it's limbs were brutal claws and talons.

But the worst was its head, which was some twisted and demented beast that was half dragon, half human, with all the worst features of both. Glowing amber eyes the size of tennis balls shone under a crown of spikes and tendrils, almost like hair.

"Viserra is dead!" The monster suddenly wailed, mouth splitting apart to reveal four mandibles lined with razor sharp teeth.

"Dead!" The beast shrieked, waving about a charred corpse in it's hands.

Viserra. I realised with a gut punch. I'd been foisting all of my scutwork off onto her, making my body double and lookalike stand in for me at all of those tedious public appearances that I couldn't be bothered to show up for.

"DEAD!!"

And she was now dead. Killed because of my laziness. Killed because she was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Killed because she'd eaten an explosion that was meant for me. An explosion that I could most likely have survived, given my superior skill in sorcery.

"DEAD!!!" The beast hollered, throwing it's head back and spitting out a long streak of fire into the sky.

A heartbeat later and the monster keeled over. And a twisted and mangled half-corpse landed on the ground, charred so black and red that only her gentle lilac eyes served as identification.

"Get a stretcher! Hurry!" I ordered, my Kingsguard immediately peeling off like they were struck by red iron.

———

114 AC, Town Hall, King's Landing

"Well?" Laena anxiously asked. "How is she?"

"Bell has suffered third-degree burns to most of her body. Her armour was literally melted to her skin." I reported. "All four of her limbs were so badly charred they were carbonised, with amputation as the only option."

Bell's mother Alla let out a wet sob at that, falling into the arms of Ser Wingood.

"Much of her internal organs are failing, and both her lungs scorched beyond repair. Even organ transplants won't help her now. Not when so much of the surrounding flesh has been cooked so badly. It's a miracle she even survived the blast, and another that she has lasted this long, but I'm afraid Bell's luck has run out.

"She will die within the hour." I gravely declared.

"No! Is there nothing you can do?" Alla begged me, failing to her knees before me. "You're such a great sorcerer. Surely you can magic away all of her injuries?"

Ser Wingood bent down, and gently picked his wife up from the floor. I looked at his face. He knew, as well as I did, that his wife was asking for the impossible.

"Please. Don't let my baby girl die." Bell's mother wept.

"Bell is beyond my help. And quite possibly any help anywhere else." I turned to look meaningfully at Daena. "In this world, that is."

———

114 AC, House of the Undying,

"I never wanted to come back here ever again." Gapeth grumbled.

"Look on the bright side, my friend." Jaehaerys smiled. "After this adventure, bards will sing songs about our adventure. A brave foray into the unknown!"

"I'd rather we skip to the part where we we've found the treasure and plunder, and are now spending gold like sand." Eelskin gravelled 

"I can't believe I'm agreeing with Tall, Dark and Brutish over here, but he's right." Ezraa sighed. "I still have nightmares about this blighted place."

"The night is dark and full of terrors, my friends." Melisandre beatifically smiled. "But so long as we walk the path of the Lord of Light, we shall have nothing to fear."

"Eh stow the chatter. Bell's my sister, and she's saved my ass more times than I can count." Daena ordered, the rest of her band falling in line at that.

The five of them stood before the tall structure of grey stone, looming high above them all. Balefyre trilled nervously at the sight, the mint-green dragon looking askance at Daena, whom idly patted Bell's dragon soothingly.

"I'll go over the plan one last time. Our goal is to find a healer capable of healing my sister Bell." Daena jerked a thumb back towards Balefyre, where a large coffin was strapped into the dragon's saddle. Within the coffin, Bell slumbered in a capsule of frozen time. Much like those the Fyrewood trees in Aenar's Vault had been found in. Neither living nor dying, but stuck in an uncertain limbo awaiting whatever help they could fine.

"Balefyre is coming with us, but Caraxes will remain here in Qarth. Without him as a waypoint, we may never find our way home." The Eldest Dragonseed warned.

"Balefyre is also carrying all of our supplies in its saddlebags. Including our money, our spare weapons, camping supplies and our food and water. It's quite an amount, but not infinite, so we'll have to stop and resupply at some points." Daena continued on. "So let's try our best to minimise the disruptions we will cause while traversing the multiverse."

Daena turned to face her gang.

"Any questions?" She asked.

There were none, and they all turned back towards the House of the Undying. Vials of Shade of the Evening were produced and drunk by them all. Even Balefyre, whom crunched up the glass vial like it was hard candy.

"Once more…" Daena began.

"…unto the breach." Her four companions finished.

———

114 AC, King's Landing,

"Well?" Larys asked, as Alys slunk back into his quarters.

"Viserra has been cremated with full honours, and her ashes interred in the family mausoleum on Dragonstone." The firstborn child of Lord Lyonel Strong reported. "There was a private wake by the Dragonseeds, during which Rhaenyra vowed vengeance against House Hightower and the Greens."

"Splendid." Larys smiled. "I have had similar success here."

The Heir to Harrenhal's face split into a wide smile, triumph burning bright in his veins. He poured himself a goblet of wine, then another for his sister.

"Queen Alicent has just gotten off a glass candle call with Lord Otto Hightower. They've agreed that there is no other option, save salvation by strife." He grinned, sliding the wine over. "War is all but guaranteed."

Alys Rivers grinned, sipping at the strong red, savouring the victory for what it was.

"But…" She warned, giving him a sidelong glance. "Otto will likely not commit to war. Not with Rhaenyra controlling the lion's share of dragons."

"Leave that to me." A third voice spoke in the room.

Both Strong siblings turned to face the hologram of their fellow collaborator in this little group of schemers. The third member of their triumvirate.

"You have a plan?" Larys asked.

"Yes, I do." Their partner smiled, bringing her own goblet of wine up to her lips. "Mark my words, by the end of the year, there will not be a single dragon left in Black control."

"To our victory then." Alys Rivers toasted.

"Chaos is a ladder." Larys Strong agreed.

"And we shall climb it all the way to the top." Shaera Tyrell finished.

Notes:

RIP Viserra. The first of many Dragonseeds to die.

I can't believe nobody thought about her when thinking about how Rhae would cheat death.

P.S. Also, can someone tell me how to upload images onto AO3? Cuz I've got several artwork of Rhaenyra and the Dragonseeds lying around, but no idea how to insert pictures.