Dragon's flame

POV Daemon Targaryen]

I had razed Maidenpool to the ground, leaving behind only charred remnants as a warning to any who might dare plot against House Targaryen. When I heard that my nephew had been blinded by poison, a searing rage coursed through me, the very thought of an attack on MY house's honour driving me to the brink. And when ,Viserys spoke of war, for the first time, I did not see the weak, indecisive monarch who had been worn down by years of court politics. I saw my brother, Viserys Targaryen—the last targaryen to tame Balerion the Black Dread.

"My prince, Rook's Rest is within sight," Lord Rosby reported, his voice steady but strained with urgency.

At that moment, I saw Lord Burne hastening toward me, a frantic urgency in his steps.

"My prince, the Triarchy has attacked Dragonstone. The king has ordered you to—"

Before Lord Burne could finish his sentence, Craxes, sensing the storm in my heart, landed in front of me with a powerful thud. Without hesitation, I mounted him, and we took to the skies, the wind whipping past us as we soared toward Dragonstone.

One thought echoed through my mind: Laena.

As we reached the skies above Dragonstone, I saw Vhagar, her massive wings slicing through the air, breathing fire down on the retreating Triarchy ships, scattering them like leaves in a storm. Above the island, Vaxylis circled, his fiery eyes keen and focused. A savage grin spread across my face—there was no mistaking the blood of dragon was strong in those two.

"Dracarys!" I roared, and the wrath of House Targaryen was unleashed, scorching the invaders in a maelstrom of flame.

When we landed on Dragonstone, I was swiftly escorted to the maester's chambers. There, I was met with a scene that struck me like a hammer. Daenerys stood before me, drenched in blood, her face pale and streaked with tears, her hands trembling . Laena knelt beside her, holding her, her face filled with quiet sorrow.

"What happened?" I demanded, my voice rough with worry.

[POV END]

"My prince, princess, Prince Aelyx is stable and no longer in danger, but he remains unconscious," the elderly maester informed us, his voice carrying a grave finality.

"When will he wake up?" Daenerys asked, her voice barely above a whisper, her heart in her eyes.

"We cannot say, princess," the maester replied, his tone heavy with uncertainty.

Daenerys, her face marked by a mixture of fear and tenderness, rushed to Aelyx's side. She lay beside him, her hand gripping his, as if willing him to wake.

Daemon stood, his gaze sharp and unyielding. "Let us leave them be. And who is in charge here?" he demanded, his voice firm with authority.

Rhyun stepped forward, his expression solemn but resolute.

"Give me a full report on everything that has transpired, including the losses, and estimate the enemy's casualties," Daemon commanded, his tone brokering no argument.

[Chamber of the Painted Table]

Daemon walked around the Painted Table, his steps echoing in the vast room as his mind worked over the situation. Rhyun entered the chamber, the tension in the air palpable.

"Speak," Daemon commanded, his voice low but filled with intent.

"We lost two of our six ships to catapults and twenty-three men out of two thousand eight hundred and seventy-five. The villages around Dragonstone have suffered significant damage... and Vhagar is injured after an encounter with the Cannibal," Rhyun reported grimly.

Daemon smirked, a dangerous glint in his eyes. "Locate the retreating Triarchy ships immediately. Send a raven to Lord Corlys with their positions. No one threatens my family and survives," Daemon said, the threat in his voice clear and resolute.

[King's Landing]

Viserys paced the small council room, flanked by the six members of the Kingsguard, his face twisted in frustration.

"I should never have recalled Ser Willis from Dragonstone!" he muttered to himself, his hands clenched into fists.

Suddenly, Ser Arryk barged into the room, his breath heavy, his face marked by the gravity of the news he bore.

Viserys' eyes darted to him, his heart pounding. "What is the news? Did Daemon reach them? Is everyone safe?" he asked, his voice laced with worry and fear for his family.

"Dragonstone has survived the siege," Ser Arryk said, his voice steady.

Viserys' face softened in relief, a wide grin forming. He pulled Lyonel into an embrace, his happiness flooding through him. But then, Rhaenyra stormed into the council room, her face etched with concern.

"Is Jacerys, Aelyx, and Daenerys all right?" Rhaenyra asked, her voice tight with fear.

Viserys noted that she asked nothing of Alicent or her children but chose not to address the slight.

"Everyone is fine, your grace… except for Prince Aelyx," Ser Arryk added, his voice somber.

Viserys' face went pale, his expression turning to one of horror as his worst fears were realized. "What happened to Aelyx?!" His voice cracked, the memory of Aemma's face flashing in his mind, the guilt rising like a tide.

"Your grace, when the Triarchy's ships closed on Dragonstone, Prince Aelyx mounted Vhagar and engaged them. He scorched their fleet and shattered their resolve, but in the chaos, the Cannibal, the wild dragon, attacked Vhagar. During the ensuing battle, an arrow struck Prince Aelyx, piercing his stomach," Ser Arryk explained, his voice heavy with the weight of the truth.

Viserys' face twisted, his emotions in turmoil. The words of Ser Arryk sank deep, cutting him like a blade. "What will I tell Aemma? I allowed our blind son, still just a child, to ride into battle... and now he may die for it?" His voice faltered as the guilt consumed him.

Rhaenyra, though heavy with child, moved to his side, offering him what little comfort she could. She clasped his hand, pulling him closer as the weight of their loss bore down on them both.

"Call back the invasion forces from Dorne," Viserys ordered, his voice resolute but tinged with sorrow.

Lyonel nodded, his expression unreadable, knowing the cost that a prolonged war would have on the realm.

"Prepare a ship. I am going to Dragonstone," Viserys declared, his voice ironclad in its determination.

"No, your grace, the realm is in a state of war. If King's Landing is left unattended, it may spark a civil war," Lord Bressbury interjected, his tone cautious.

Viserys sank into his chair, his thoughts wandering, haunted by memories of Aemma, Rhaenyra, Aelyx, and Daenerys. The weight of his choices pressed down on him like a mountain.