Chapter 49 Blood

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Chapter Forty-Nine: Blood and Fire

Rhaella Targaryen stepped into the tent, Ser Arthur Dayne at her side.

The air inside was warm, lit by the soft glow of flickering candles. Faintly, she could hear the sounds of the Northern army outside, men preparing for war.

But none of that mattered.

Because in front of her stood Daeron Targaryen.

Her grandson.

The boy she had only ever heard whispers of.

The boy she had glimpsed through the flames of a glass candle.

Now, he was here, flesh and blood, standing before her.

And Rhaella felt like she was dreaming.

She drank in his appearance.

He was tall, taller than Rhaegar had been at his age, and carried himself with an ease that was both Northern and Targaryen. His features were striking—his father's sharp cheekbones and regal bearing, his mother's Stark coloring.

But his eyes—

Rhaella's breath caught.

His eyes were so much like Rhaegar's.

It was like looking into the past.

A lifetime of longing, of regret, of what could have been rushed through her all at once.

She wanted to embrace him, to hold him as she had once held his father when he was a babe.

But she hesitated.

They were kin, but they were also strangers.

How could she expect him to accept her when they had never met before this moment?

Before she could decide what to do, Daeron moved first.

He stepped forward, without hesitation, and embraced her.

Rhaella gasped softly as his arms wrapped around her.

"I have waited so long to meet you" he murmured.

For a moment, she was frozen.

Then, slowly, she lifted her arms and returned the embrace.

She closed her eyes and allowed herself to feel this moment.

The grandson she never thought she would see was here, alive and strong.

When they finally stepped apart, Rhaella found her voice.

"How long have you known?" she asked. "About who you truly are?"

Daeron studied her for a moment before answering.

"I have seen things in my dreams," he said vaguely. "It was the dreams that showed me the truth."

Dreams.

Rhaella's stomach tightened.

She had heard of Targaryens who had prophetic dreams before. Daenys the Dreamer, Rhaegar… and now Daeron.

Before she could question further, Arthur stepped forward and went down on one knee.

"My king," Arthur said, bowing his head. "I have failed your family once before. I will not fail you. If you would allow it, I ask for the honor of being your Kingsguard."

Daeron's expression softened.

He reached forward, clasping Arthur's shoulder, and helped him to his feet.

"You have already done me a great service, Ser Arthur," Daeron said. "You protected my grandmother, my aunt, and my uncle all these years. It would be my honor to have you in my Kingsguard."

Arthur's eyes flickered with emotion as he nodded.

Then Daeron turned to Rhaella, his gaze sharp.

"What of Viserys and Daenerys?" he asked.

Rhaella blinked, startled.

"They are safe," she said cautiously. "Viserys and Daenerys are ensuring that the… the hatchlings remain hidden."

Daeron nodded. "Good."

Rhaella hesitated.

Her grandson's tone was not surprised.

He already knew.

She narrowed her eyes slightly. "How did you know about the hatchlings?"

Daeron did not hesitate.

"Because the dragon that helped hatch them was mine."

A stunned silence fell over the tent.

Rhaella's breath hitched.

Ser Arthur's brows furrowed. "Your dragon?"

"Her name is Lyrax," Daeron said. "She has been with me since her birth."

Rhaella's mind reeled.

A dragon.

Her grandson had a dragon.

And none of them had known.

Before she could gather her thoughts, Daeron continued, his voice serious.

"No one can know," he said. "Not even Viserys or Daenerys. Not yet."

Rhaella still struggled to find words.

But she saw the calm certainty in Daeron's gaze and only nodded.

Arthur did the same.

Before they could speak further, a voice called from outside the tent.

"Your Grace!"

A servant entered, bowing quickly.

"A rider has arrived at the camp. It is Ser Brynden Tully, he requests an audience with the King."

Rhaella turned back to her grandson.

His expression was unreadable.

He exhaled, straightened his shoulders, and nodded.

"I will see him now," Daeron said.

Ghost rose from his spot near the hearth, his red eyes gleaming in the candlelight.

Rhaella watched as her grandson turned and left the tent, the great white direwolf padding silently behind him.