Dragon's flame

[123 AC]

Aelyx Targaryen and Daenerys Targaryen sat beneath the sprawling boughs of Aegon's Garden, their children playing around them. Aerion Targaryen, the eldest, displayed his characteristic curiosity, while the triplets—Aemma, Aemon, and Gaemon—babbled and giggled with innocent delight. The sight of their white and silver hair glinting in the sunlight, a hallmark of their Valyrian lineage, filled Aelyx with pride.

[Aelyx's POV]

The past year had been unusually peaceful, a welcome reprieve from the political maneuvering that seemed to dominate our lives. But I could feel it—this peace was fragile, fleeting. A raven from King's Landing had arrived just days ago. My father had summoned us back to the capital.

His health, once faltering, had improved dramatically. Where once the realm teetered on the edge of chaos, now it seemed to stabilize under his renewed vigor. Yet, there was a tension beneath it all, a reminder that nothing in the Seven Kingdoms remains calm for long.

"He just wants to meet his grandchildren," I mused aloud as Aerion tugged at my leg, his bright violet eyes pleading.

"Dad, one more dragon ride, please!"

Aerion was a marvel—intelligent, sensitive, and extraordinary even at his tender age. He had already begun his lessons, his aptitude and curiosity unmatched.

---

[King's Landing]

Viserys Targaryen sat in his chambers with Alicent Hightower at his side.

"Is everything ready for the dinner, my dear?" Viserys asked, his voice carrying a rare note of excitement.

"Yes, my king," Alicent replied with a polite smile.

Viserys's face lit up with joy. His health had returned, and with it, his optimism. The Targaryen line was flourishing. Aelyx and Daenerys had blessed the family with three more children in just a single year. Tonight's dinner would be a chance to celebrate this legacy.

---

[Daenerys's POV]

The halls of the Red Keep loomed tall and imposing as we strode inside. I carried Aemma and Aemon, while Aelyx held Gaemon and guided Aerion. The weight of history hung in the air, but my thoughts were focused on one thing: our children.

Ser Criston Cole approached with his usual formal demeanor.

"My prince and princess, the Queen wishes to meet with you."

Aelyx responded without hesitation.

"We will meet her shortly, Ser Criston. First, we must bring our children to my father's chambers."

The Red Keep was a treacherous place. We could not entrust our children to just anyone. My father's chambers, however, were a sanctuary. He adored Aerion, and no harm would come to them under his watchful eye.

---

[Viserys's Chambers | Viserys's POV]

Ser Harrold Westerling entered with a respectful bow.

"Your Grace, Prince Aelyx and Princess Daenerys request an audience."

"Send them in!" I exclaimed eagerly. My grandchildren—I longed to see them again.

As they entered, my eyes immediately went to the children. Aelyx held Aerion and another child, while Daenerys carried the other two. Their hair shone like moonlight and fire—three with the pure white of Aelyx, and one with the silvery hue of Daenerys.

"Father, meet Gaemon, Aemon, and Aemma," Daenerys said, her voice soft yet proud.

My heart swelled as I took Aemma into my arms. She was beautiful, the very image of Daenerys when she was a babe. Aemon looked like a mirror of Aelyx, and my heart rejoiced at the sight of them all. I was relieved that none of them bore the blindness that had plagued Aelyx

"Leave them with me," I told my children as they prepared to leave. "I will take care of them"

---

[The Queen's Chambers]

Alicent Hightower sat with a stoic expression, flanked by her father, Otto Hightower. Aelyx and Daenerys faced them, their expressions carefully neutral.

"My offer to marry your daughter Aemma to Aemond still stands," Alicent said, her tone measured.

Daenerys's response was swift, her voice laced with disdain.

"Aemond is thirteen. Aemma is barely seven months old." She paused, then continued with a calculated tone. "We counter your offer—marry your daughter Helaena to our son Gaemon."

Alicent's eyes widened in surprise. She had not anticipated this proposal. Otto placed a hand on her shoulder, silently advising her to accept.

"I agree," Alicent said after a pause. Her voice softened as she considered Helaena, her gentle and kind-hearted daughter. The match would shield her from the political vipers of King's Landing.

Aelyx's smile was thin, yet victorious.

"Do not go back on your word. It is a deal," he said firmly.

Otto smirked faintly. His objective was clear—either draw Aelyx and Daenerys to their side or keep them far away. The latter was easier, as they rarely left Dragonstone.

"This agreement must remain secret… for now," Alicent added, clearly planning to use it as a trump card against Rhaenyra.

---

[The Dining Room]

At the dinner, Aelyx and Daenerys sat beside Viserys. Aelyx held Aemma and Gaemon, while Daenerys cradled Aerion. Across from them, Alicent sat with Helaena in her arms.

"Where are Aegon and Aemond?" Viserys asked Alicent.

"Aegon is… indisposed," Alicent admitted hesitantly. "And Aemond is exhausted from his training with Ser Criston Cole."

Viserys frowned, displeased.

"Dad, dragon ride!" Aerion exclaimed suddenly, tugging at Aelyx's sleeve.

Viserys chuckled heartily. "Look at the boy—barely two name days old, and he already dreams of dragons!"

Aelyx patted Aerion's head gently.

"Tomorrow," he promised, and Aerion nodded enthusiastically.

The dinner passed without incident, though Alicent seemed unusually cheerful.

---

[124 AC | Aelyx's POV]

I awoke gasping, my body drenched in sweat, my heart pounding in my chest. Daenerys stirred beside me, her violet eyes wide with concern.

"What happened?" she asked, her voice urgent.

I struggled to form the words, the vision still vivid in my mind.

"The Night King… he wasn't the King of the Dead."

All I could see was fire—endless fire. Screams filled the air, the agony of burning flesh echoing in my ears. A figure emerged from the inferno, his presence suffocating, his aura unmistakable. Death.

His features became clear—white hair, a visage both ancient and terrible. Before I could make sense of it, a deafening roar pierced the air. I turned to see dragons—undead dragons, their decaying flesh barely clinging to their massive frames, their eyes burning with ghostly gray fire.

Their size was monstrous. The smallest rivaled Cannibal in magnitude, and they all turned their blazing eyes upon me.

"PERISH."

I woke with a start, the roar still ringing in my ears.