The Dragon Awakens.

Prologue

She had always adored King's Landing after dark, ever since she was little more than a little girl. She would stare out into the darkness of the night and watch the twinkling little lights of candels in windows and listen to the sound of ships coming into the harbor. A city was a living, breathing thing and at night, she could hear it's heartbeat as easily as she could a man's if she placed an ear to his chest.

She could hear it's heartbeat now as well, thought it was not so sweet a sound. When she had been younger, she was certain that the city had loved her as much as she loved it. Now, there was no love at all. Now there was only hate. And the lights in the dark were not the gentle twinkling of candle lights and lanterns, no, it was a red and angry line of torch flame, moving slowly but surely up Rhaenys's hill towards the Dragonpit.

Even from where she stood, she could hear the voices. Kill the monsters, they cried. Kill the demons, they demanded. This is our city, that one was repeated again and again and again and again. She could feel their hatred, it was as scorching as any dragon's breath and she knew that her reign was slipping out of her hands before her every eyes.

An insistent tugging at the sleeve of one of her dresses made her turn her head, her sweet Joffery, her last Strong son, always wanting to prove to his brothers and to her that he was just as brave and just as them. It reminded her of Harwin, an ugly man in truth but he had been so dear to her. She had loved him more than she had ever loved either of her husbands.

"Mother, we have to do something! The dragons! They are going to kill Tyraxes!" In that moment, she knew that her son was right. The mob would march on the Dragonpit and kill all the dragons within, her own dragon was safe inside of the Red Keep but the four that sheltered in the pit would be massacred if something was not done. She had to do something, or what little advantage that she had left would be taken from her.

But Rhaenrya Targaryen, the first of her name, Queen of the Andals and the First Men, Lady of the Six Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm, was paralyzed with fear and grief. She had already lost so much, her own royal Father who had adored her and balanced her on his knee during council meetings so that she could learn what it was to rule.

Her Harwin, who for such a big and ugly man had been so very gentle with his touch and had given her three strong sons to remember him by, Daemon who had abandoned her and betrayed her and choose death rather than return and be at her side, her sweet little Visenya, who had been too small by far, too small to breathe.

Her Jacerys, who had been so brave and agreed to see his brothers to safety and died in vengeance for them, her Lucerys who had been cravenly murdered by that one eyed fuck who should have been hers to kill, her Viserys, who had been so young and was lost at sea, burned or drowned. No parent should outlive their children, not so many, surely?

Her brave and bold Joff and her sweet baby Aegon, they were all that she had left to her now. Her last children, she could not lose them as well. She would take them both with her into Maegor's Holdfast and wait out this storm. Guards would be on the walls of Maegor's and the walls of the Keep and if the smallfolk and their Shepard, dared to turn their attention on to her.

Well, she still had her Syrax. She would burn all those who tried to harm her and her children.

"Do not worry so Joff, one taste of Dragonflame and the people will return to their hovels." It must have sounded as convincing as she felt as Joff looked stricken and turned to look over the balcony again as the line of torches inched ever closer to their fate. A new chant raised up into the air now, calling her Queen Cunt, Queen Whore and Maegor with Teats.

They called me the Realms Delight once, and smiled when I throw them alms and flowers and gave them bread. But they hated her now, and for why? Because she rose taxes on them? War's were expensive and she did not start one, all she had wanted was what was hers. What her Father had promised her since she was a little girl.

And they had stolen it from her, Aegon had done that. He and his thieving whore of a Mother. They had taken everything from her and all she had done was fought to get it back, was that so wrong? Once the war was over and Aegon was dead, she would have been a good Queen. She would have, she just needed to win. That was all she needed to do.

But what Queen could hope to hold when her city did not love or want her? When all her allies had abandoned her, what did she have? She wanted to weep, she wanted to close her eyes and curl into a dark corner and simply wait for the end to come. Let Aegon, if he was still alive, come and claim her throne if he would have it. She was so very tired, all she wanted to do was rest.

Yet she could not pull herself away from the balcony, she simply watched as the light grew ever and ever closer to the pit. Joff had started with his insistence that they do something and Aegon was weeping, sobbing about how scared he was. Rhaenyra didn't want to see anymore, she took both of her son's by their hands and marched over to the door.

The men on the door were Valemen, she still had some loyal friends and none could be more loyal than those who had come from her Mother's kingdom and she was quick to entrust her last two boys to them. Rhaenerya commanded them to take the boys to the Queen's Ballroom, one of the safest parts of the castle within a castle and informed them that she would be with them shortly.

Ser Lyonel Bently had the honor of guarding her that night and she marched her way down the steps and towards the drawbridge, Ser Adrian Redfort had the guard of that and he cautioned her about leaving the safety of Maegor's but she would not hear of it and the drawbridge was lowered soon enough and Rhaenerya walked across it with Lyonel behind her.

A part of her wished to go and be with Syrax, but it was only a small part of her and the rest of her moved to where she had to be. The Great Hall had never been so silent, most of her court had already taken refugee inside of Maegor's and so Rhaenerys could be alone. She commanded Ser Lyonel to stay by the doors and then Rhaenerya crossed the halls and began to climb the dais and then the steps of the Iron Throne itself.

She was the first woman to ever sit the Iron Throne in history, oh, Queen Visenya and Queen Rhaenys were said to have been allowed to sit the Iron Throne when King Aegon was not there and much the same was said about Queen Alysanne when justice was to be delivered and all of the men were away, but Rhaenerya was the first Queen to sit it by her own right and not at the whim of any man.

It felt right, when she sat down. Not comfortable, never comfortable. But it felt like it was hers, and it was all slipping away with her unable to do something. She leaned back and closed her eyes, and if she wept, it was silent and the only other person present was too far away to see her. This could not be how it ended for her, it couldn't.

Then don't let it be how it ends. A voice whispered to her, inside her own mind. It almost sounded like it was her own voice, but it was colder and harder. You are the blood of Aegon the Dragon, and this is what you choose to do when you are faced with your own enemies? Weep in the darkness? Does the Dragon fear the sheep? Aegon would have killed them by now.

Aegon never had to fight with his own blood, she found herself thinking. Aegon never had to deal with both of his sisters suddenly deciding that they would rather be Queen's in their own right.

If they had, Aegon would have stopped them. He would have put them down, he would not cower when the might of House Targaryen itself was threatened. Do not let this happen, remember who you are Rhaenerya Targaryen, remember your blood, remember your words. Stop this, before it's too late and all is lost.

The voice was gone then, and Rhanerya opened her eyes as the tears dried on her cheeks. She rose from the Iron Throne and descended the steps and crossed the Hall and looked at Ser Lyonel. "Be quick, find Lord Commander Glendon and tell him that his Queen has need of him. Now more than ever, he is to gather all the members of the Queensguard and meet me by Syrax. Be quick Ser."

"As your Grace commands." Ser Lyonel spoke and then she was alone. She nodded and walked back out into the Courtyard and hurried over to where Syrax was chained. In truth, she was overly surprised when she found Joff trying to climb on to her dragon. In fact, she smiled. He may have a Strong for a Father, but I am still his Mother. He is the blood of the Dragon too.

"Joffery, come down from there. At once!" Her voice was as sharp as a whip and Joff tumbled off her dragon's back and Rhaenerya hurried over to him and took her Son by the ear and dragged him up to his feet. Joff wriggled like a fish caught at the end of the hook and Rhaenerya waited for a few moments before she let go.

"Mother! That hurt!" Joffery said with a pout that reminded her that he was all of twelve and the boy rubbed at his ear. "Mother, please! They are going to hurt Tyraxes! Please, you have to let me go and stop them! They can't hurt me when I am on Dragonback, let me go and make you proud! I beg of you. Please!"

"Joffery, you are a prince. Calm yourself." The boy looked at though she had struck him and he bent his head, a mop of thick brown hair fell in front of his face. Rheanerya knelt and tilted his head up so that he would see her face. "And you are right as well, we must stop them. And we will." The Queen rose to her full height as her son stared up at her.

Her Queensguard choose that moment to appear. "Your Grace, the Prince is-" Lord Commander Glendon stopped speaking when his eyes landed on Joff, who had the decency to look abashed and ashamed, starring down at his feet. "Here."

"Indeed he is, Lord Commander, and do you now know where he is going?" The Lord Commander shook his head. "He is going with you, take as many men as you need with you and ride to the Dragonpit as quickly as you can. I will give you some more time but you must hurry." She turned to her son then and rested her hands on his shoulders. "Joff, ride to the Dragonspit and mount Tyraxes and take to the skies, but do nothing else until I am with you. Do you understand? I am your Queen, and your Queen commands."

Joff stared at her and then his shock and confusion melted away and he nodded, and for just a moment, Rhaenyra saw something of her Harwin in him. "As her Grace commands."

Rhaenerya nodded and turned to her dragon's keepers who had come to see the scene. "Strike her chains." As they saw to that, she climbed atop the dragon and stared up into the darkness. As soon as Syrax was freed, her great wings began to flap and she slowly took to the air and the ground faded into the distance, becoming so tiny.

The line of light was so close to the nest they had made for the Dragons, Rhaenerya would not have it. She uncoiled her rider's whip, rose it, and brought it down.

Syrax roared and dove, and the night came alive with fire.

End of Prologue.

OKAY BUT I AM THE BIGGEST RHAENERYA TARGARYEN FAN, YOU DO NOT EVEN KNOW. LONG MAY SHE REIGN.

Hmm, any way.

I always wanted to write a story about an alternate version of what would happen if Rhaenerya kept the throne at the end, how that would happen and what the long reach consequences might be.

So yeah, expect another long story. And if you enjoyed this little prologue, follow, favorite and review for me.

Tons of love,

DiscordantSymphony