Rhaenys saw it: not a queen, but a mother. The same look Rhaenyra would have. The same terror. The same love.
Not in fire—but in . Meleys the Red Queen, the swiftest dragon in the realm, burst from the ground in a shower of rubble and dust. The crowd screamed. The kingsguard drew their swords. Aegon stumbled, his crown nearly falling from his head.
Meanwhile, the search for Aegon descended into farce. The young prince—a drunkard, a lecher, a boy who preferred the fighting pits to the throne—was found hiding in a crawlspace beneath the Dragonpit, reeking of wine and fear.
King Viserys Targaryen, the First of His Name, had passed in the night, his rotting body finally releasing its hold on the Iron Throne. But before the sun could paint the towers of King’s Landing gold, the rats began to move. A Casa do Dragao- 1-9 1-- Temporada - Episodio 9...
Alicent gripped his face, her nails biting into his cheeks. “It doesn’t matter what you want. It is your duty. Your father’s last wish.”
In the darkness of her chambers, she opened the locket around her neck. Inside was not her husband’s face. It was a pressed flower from the godswood. A memory of a girl reading history to a friend under a weirwood tree.
The floor of the Dragonpit erupted.
“I don’t want it,” he sobbed as his mother knelt before him.
A shiver ran through the room. Lord Beesbury, old and loyal to Rhaenyra, protested. His voice cracked with outrage. “Princess Rhaenyra is the heir!”
She believed it. Or she needed to.
Princess Rhaenys, having escaped her guards not through violence but through the chaos of the city, did not flee. She descended into the darkness below the arena.
For one eternal moment, Rhaenys and Meleys stared down at the usurper and his mother. The dragon’s maw opened, a furnace of orange light building in her throat.
“What would you have me do?” she whispered to the ghost of Rhaenyra—the friend she had lost, the enemy she had made. Rhaenys saw it: not a queen, but a mother
Alicent Hightower, the Queen Dowager, sat at her father’s side in the small council chamber. Her hands were stained with the king’s blood—she had held him as he whispered his final, fractured confession. “You must unite the realm… Prince Aegon… the Prince that was Promised.”
She dressed him in golden armor and placed the Conqueror’s crown upon his brow. As they processed toward the Dragonpit to present him to the people, the bells of King’s Landing began to toll. Not for joy. For a king dead. And a new king born in shadow. The coronation was a spectacle of green and gold. The crowd, hungry for bread and blood, cheered as Aegon raised the sword Blackfyre . But high above, on the wall of the pit, a figure in black stirred.