[127] Wings of Fate

Chapter 127: Wings of Fate

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Myrcella sat motionless before the ornate Dornish mirror, watching the handmaid's fingers work through her golden hair with mechanical precision. 

Her reflection stared back—hollow-eyed, pale despite years under the Dornish sun, a ghost of herself. The handmaid, a girl hardly older than her, worked silently, careful not to meet her eyes.

They prepare me like a lamb for slaughter.

The thought came unbidden, memories of her mother's lessons about royal sacrifices rising like specters. Her mother had often spoken of women as pawns in men's games, promising she'd never face that fate. In the end, she did thanks to her uncle. 

Yet somehow Myrcella's perception changed once she actually came to Dorne. She realized Dorne was different. That Trystane was different. 

So she'd assumed that the future would be different. But…

Destiny seldom knocks before entering.

The door opened with a soft creak. Arianne Martell entered, her curves accentuated by a riding dress of burnt orange silk that clung to her body like a second skin. Even in Myrcella's despair, she couldn't help but admire how effortlessly the Dornish princess commanded attention—the confident sway of her hips, the proud set of her shoulders.

"Leave us," Arianne told the handmaid, who quickly curtseyed and disappeared.

Arianne moved behind Myrcella, their eyes meeting in the mirror as the princess's slender fingers replaced the handmaid's in her hair. For a moment, neither spoke. Then Arianne sighed, her silver eyes softening with something that might have been guilt.

"I know you hate me now," she began, her voice unusually gentle. "You have every right."

Myrcella remained silent, her green eyes fixed on the brush Arianne now wielded with practiced ease.

"I promised to protect you when you came to Dorne. I've failed that promise," Arianne continued, weaving delicate braids into Myrcella's golden locks. "But I want you to understand something—King Viserys could have chosen a far worse fate for you."

"Worse than tearing me from everything I love?" Myrcella finally whispered, her voice cracking. "From Trystane?"

Arianne's movements paused momentarily before continuing. "He could have executed you along with your brother. He could have imprisoned you in some black cell. Instead, he offers you Casterly Rock—your ancestral home, power, a future."

The brush glided through Myrcella's hair, oddly comforting despite everything.

"Your mother still lives," Arianne added, her tone carefully neutral. "Whatever else happens, you'll see her again."

Myrcella closed her eyes. "Is she... is she well?"

Arianne's reflection showed a carefully composed expression. "She's alive. That's more than many expected after opposing the Dragon King."

The unspoken truth hung between them—her mother was a prisoner, perhaps broken, certainly humiliated. Just as Myrcella herself was now a prisoner, albeit one with gilded chains.

"Will he hurt me?" Myrcella asked, hating the vulnerability in her voice.

"No." Arianne's answer came swiftly, firmly. Her hands moved to Myrcella's shoulders, squeezing gently. "Listen to me. I've come to know him. He keeps his word. If he says you'll rule Casterly Rock, then you will. If he promises your safety, you'll have it."

Between chains and fire, the wise choose chains.

"But there's always a price," Myrcella murmured.

Arianne's lips curved into a smile that didn't reach her eyes. "With men, there always is. But you're a Lannister. Paying debts is in your blood. Just… be sure you don't pay the wrong debt."

Silence stretched between them. For the next few minutes, Arianne's hands did their work, as Myrcella stared at the empty air. So my fate… there was no changing it?

Ultimately Arianne stepped back, appraising her work with a soft smile. Myrcella's hair was now elegantly styled, half-up with small braids woven with golden threads—a style befitting a lady of Casterly Rock, yet with Dornish influence.

"You look perfect. It's time," Arianne said, offering her hand.

Myrcella accepted it, noticing how smooth and warm the princess's skin felt against hers. As she stood, her simple traveling dress—the finest she owned, though plain by royal standards—fell in soft folds around her slender frame. Dorne wanted to give her a Dornish royal dress, but she'd preferred to stick with her mother's parting gift.

"You look beautiful," Arianne said, adjusting the neckline that revealed just a hint of Myrcella's collarbone. "A true lioness."

Myrcella didn't know what to say.

****

They walked through the familiar corridors of the Water Gardens, her moving feet taking Myrcella further from the life she'd built here. 

Servants and guards bowed as they passed, their eyes following with undisguised curiosity. The entire palace buzzed with whispers about the Dragon King and his unexpected visit.

About the Lannister girl who would leave with him.

When they emerged into the gardens, the morning sun momentarily blinded Myrcella. Then she saw them—three massive dragons lounging among the orange trees and fountains, their scales gleaming like jewels in the sunlight.

Colossal forms, more mountain than beast, dominated the usually peaceful space. Their hides were a breathtaking, terrifying mosaic. Their scales were like overlapping shields, some the deep, iridescent green of jade forests glimpsed in dreams, others the profound black of a starless, bottomless night, and one a blinding, molten gold that seemed to steal the sun's own fire, pulsing with an inner light. 

The sight made her pause, tremble, and swallow her saliva.

They didn't just gleam like jewels; they were jewels, alive and breathing, each scale a masterpiece of lethal, predatory beauty. Jagged horns, like cruel, obsidian crowns, jutted from their massive, intelligent heads, and claws the size of grown men's swords were casually embedded in the soft earth, tearing at the manicured lawns as if they were mere trifles. 

The air around them thrummed with a primal power, a low, guttural rumble that vibrated in Myrcella's very bones, and a scent like ozone and ancient stone filled her nostrils. It was a sight so fantastical, so utterly alien to her sheltered world of courtly manners and gentle pursuits, that her mind reeled, struggling to accept what her wide, terrified eyes were undeniably seeing.

These…

How could anyone dare to stand against these?

"Let's go, Myrcella?" Arianne asked as she tugged her forward. 

Myrcella swallowed again. The golden dragon, largest of the three, lifted its head and watched her approach with unnerving intelligence. The green one snapped lazily at a palm tree, while the black one stretched its wings like massive sails unfurling.

Beside the golden dragon stood Viserys Targaryen, resplendent in black leather trimmed with crimson. He was speaking with a group of guards, Areo Hotah among them. When he turned and saw them approaching, a smile spread across his face.

Nearby stood Daenerys Targaryen, her transformed appearance making Myrcella flinch and her breath catch. Delicate horns crowned her silver-blonde head, scales shimmered across her cheekbones, and a tail swished behind her as she watched Myrcella with curious violet eyes. She wore a riding dress of white that emphasized her draconic features rather than hiding them, creating an effect both beautiful and terrifying.

"Arianne, my dear Princess," Viserys greeted, taking her hand and pressing a kiss to her knuckles. His eyes lingered appreciatively on the way her riding dress hugged her curves. "Stunning as always."

He turned to Myrcella, his violet eyes assessing her. "Lady Myrcella. You look lovely this morning. The journey will be long, but I promise you'll find it memorable."

His voice carried no threat, his manner courteous as he kissed her hand as well. 

If she hadn't known who he was—what he'd done to her family—she might have found him charming. "...Thank you, Your Grace," she replied automatically, her mother's lessons in courtesy serving her even now.

Power resides where men believe it resides. And well… in dragons.

"Now," Viserys said, glancing between them, "I can only take one of you girls with me. It would be difficult to ride three people atop Viserion. Well, we'd fit, but she'd be annoyed."

The golden dragon, the legendary Viserion who she'd only seen from a distance before, snorted, steam curling from her nostrils in apparent agreement.

"So," he continued, pointing to the green dragon, "Ari will ride Rhaegal. Since she's ridden dragons before and is used to it. As you can see, I've prepared a saddle for you." He gestured to what looked like a massive horse saddle modified for a dragon's broader back. "You won't fall. If you do, I'll catch you."

Rather than disappointment at not riding with Viserys, Arianne's face lit with excitement. "My own dragon?" she breathed, her silver eyes wide. 

"Um, no? No, that's not your dragon. You're just riding for tod-"

She launched herself at Viserys, kissing his cheek enthusiastically before rushing toward Rhaegal, her hips swaying enticingly.

Daenerys made a sound somewhere between amusement and exasperation. "Brothers," she muttered, rolling her eyes at Myrcella as if sharing a private joke. "Always showing off. Right?"

"...."

Viserys turned his full attention to Myrcella, his smile softening. "My lady here is going to ride with me. Allow me to help you." He extended his hand, palm up, waiting.

Myrcella hesitated, her gaze drifting beyond him to a palace window where a familiar figure stood watching. Trystane, his hands pressed against the glass, his expression unreadable at this distance yet somehow conveying all the heartbreak she felt.

She sighed, looking back at Viserys's offered hand, then at his face. Something in his eyes—understanding, perhaps, or simple patience—made her decision easier.

Sometimes surrender is the greatest victory.

Slowly, she placed her hand in his. His fingers closed around hers, warm and strong, as his other arm encircled her waist. Before she could prepare herself, wings—actual, real wings—unfurled from his back, and they were airborne.

Myrcella gasped, the ground falling away beneath them in a dizzying rush. The sensation was unlike anything she'd experienced—weightless and terrifying and exhilarating all at once. Within moments, they landed atop Viserion, Myrcella positioned in front of him, his chest warm against her back.

He had flown up with her, just to land on top of Viserion. What… what was that about?

"You look like you liked that," Viserys remarked, amusement coloring his voice.

A surprised cackle escaped her before she could stop it. She quickly schooled her features. "I was... surprised."

"You'll be more to see the world from above," he promised, his breath warm against her ear. Then, turning his attention to the green dragon where Arianne was settling into the saddle, her dress hitched dangerously high on her thighs, he called, "Rhaegal, be sure to behave."

The dragon rumbled what might have been agreement.

Daenerys, already mounted on the black dragon, watched them with something odd in her violet eyes. "We should go," she said. "It's a long flight to Casterly Rock."

Without warning, Viserion launched into the sky, her powerful wings sending a gust of wind across the gardens. Myrcella screamed, her hands instinctively gripping Viserys's arms as they wrapped securely around her waist.

The ground dropped away, the Water Gardens shrinking to a colorful patchwork below. The other dragons followed, Rhaegal with Arianne's excited whoops, and Drogon with Daenerys's graceful silence.

As they soared higher, Dorne spread beneath them like a living map—mountains and deserts and the glittering sea. Despite everything, Myrcella felt a thrill of wonder. The world looked different from dragonback. Smaller. 

Conquerable.

Perhaps that's why Targaryens ruled as they did.

"Breathe," Viserys murmured against her hair. "You're safe with me."

And strangely, amid the rushing wind and dragon heat, with the arms of her family's destroyer around her, Myrcella believed him.

Some chains are made of gold, others of fire.

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Author Note: Heya! Just posted a new story, "Marvel's Omnitrix", that hundreds of you were excited about in discord. Two chapters are out by now, check it out and add it to your Library!! I'll be posting very regularly there for the first month.

Don't worry about Dragonking, it's closing toward the finish line in a month or two, that's why I'm posting a new story. Unlike Eternal Samsara's hiatus, where the story's direction wasn't clear to me, a GOT story's end direction is easy enough to see. Rest assured, 3x chapters per week will continue as usual here! Don't forget to vote for more.

Check out Marvel's Omnitrix!

Synopsis: Reborn as Ben Tennyson in a world merging Ben 10 and Marvel, an 18-year-old's summer road trip becomes an epic adventure when he discovers the Omnitrix. With memories of his previous life about both universes suddenly emerging in his head, he must navigate threats from Vilgax's bounty hunters to the Thanos' inevitable snap. Despite the galactic dangers thrown at his face, he was always ready, and always geared a notch above. It's Hero Time!