A Dragon Kissed by Sun

Jaime Lannister

' Aerys Targaryen, the Second of his Name, King of the Andals and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms tumbled down the stairs of the dais upon which the Iron Throne rested, and leaving a bloody smear on the stone floor. Ser Jaime Lannister breathed slowly and heavily as he stood on the stone steps, his sword dripping with the fallen king's blood, and he slowly turned his head to gaze upon the Iron Throne.

Countless swords fused by Dragonfire, beaten into the shape of a throne to represent Aegon the Conqueror's unification by force of the lands of Westeros centuries ago, and as a reminder to his descendants that no king should sit easy. How unfortunate, though, that so many of them seemed to forget that second part.

For a moment, Jaime wondered how it would feel to sit on the throne, and then he looked at the fallen king's dead body. And then he looked back at the throne, and then in the direction of the windows and the sound of the city beyond being put to the sword by the army of the west.

House Lannister's army...his father's army...

Jaime glanced back at King Aerys as he lay dead on the ground and then back to the Iron Throne. Unbidden, he heard the words of Prince Rhaegar ghost through his mind, the exact words he had spoken before he had gone to that bloody field in the north.

I leave my family in your care, Ser Jaime.

Jaime closed his eyes and took a deep breath. The choice was made. The white cloak of the Kingsguard billowing behind him, and without bothering to sheath his sword, Jaime rushed out of the throne room and ran for the Maidenvault. If his father would go to such ends to curry favour with the Lord Baratheon, then there was no doubt what fate would befall the Crown Princess and her children at the hands of his father's bannermen.

Heedless of what few, terrified servants were left trying to hide or flee the Red Keep or the sounds of fighting elsewhere, Jaime swept through the stone halls. As he turned the corner leading to Princess Elia's chambers, he heard a door breaking down, followed by the shouting of a terrified yet defiant woman. With mounting horror, Jaime saw the princess' door, and he ran as fast as possible.

"Gregor Clegane..." he thought in disgust as he ran over the ruined door. "...a brutishly pathetic excuse for a lord and more so for a knight..."

"Get away from her!" Jaime roared as he spotted the giant brute reach for the princess and her son, trapped as they were in a corner. Gregor turned his head and raised his sword at Jaime's shout, but Jaime was already moving, dropping to one knee and swinging at Gregor's knee.

With his back turned to Jaime, the Kingsguard's sword easily sliced into the gap between the armour plating and separated the man's leg from his thigh. Roaring in pain and fury, Gregor fell...and with a shout of rage, Jaime finished the job, stabbing down at his neck and twisting the blade.

Not again

Through the man's visor, Jaime could see the so-called Mountain's eyes widen in shock before going dark.

"Ser Jaime..." Elia began weakly as Jaime pulled his sword out. The knight looked at her.

"My princess..." he said breathlessly. "...hurry...go and find something to cover yourself with... I will go and find Rhaenys. We must leave, and soon."

Elia nodded and rushed to her cabinets but not before shouting after Jaime that Rhaenys had gone and hidden in her father's chambers. Jaime was grateful, as he'd probably have wasted time looking elsewhere.

A shrill scream sounded as Jaime approached the crown prince's chambers, and while later on, Jaime would wonder with morbid amusement at how he always seemed to be arriving at the nick of time; at the time, he only felt urgency. He turned the door and spotted yet another one of the pathetic excuses that passed for knights in Westeros: Ser Amory Lorch.

And he was raising a dagger over the desperately struggling form of the princess.

Not again

"No...!" Jaime shouted as he ran forward, Lorch looking up in surprise. And then the man was screaming as Jaime's sword cut of his hand at the wrist, Rhaenys scrambling away and pressing herself against a wall as Jaime used his sword's pommel to hammer Lorch away.

"Ser Jaime...why...? Your father..."

Jaime breathed a sigh of relief, and he saved them. He didn't fail them. He didn't fail ... again.

He didn't get to finish as Jaime cut off his head with one swing. Footsteps caught his attention, and he turned only to see ... Rhaegar.

Jaime wanted to smile when he saw prince Rhaegar, but his face changed from happiness and relief to horror when he saw him. He was wearing the same armour the last time he saw him, but his chest was crushed, armour smashed in, blood coming out of his mouth, strange dark blood.

He felt a lump on his throat. He couldn't talk, he couldn't breathe, his air was stuck in his throat. He felt tiny blades piercing his skin.

Rhaegar looked at Jaime, emotionless, his face pale like snow, his lips looked like a dark purple, his purple eyes slowly losing their colour and turning white, worms started coming out his skin, eating him, a dead man.

"Why did you betray me?" He talked with a cold tone.

Jaime wanted to shake his head, he tried to say sorry, to say anything, but no matter how hard he tried, no words were coming out of his mouth.

Elia held a dead baby in her arms, looking at him with a massive slash across her stomach from being cut in half from the Mountain.

Suddenly he turned around, looking at Rhaenys smiling at him, her face normal and Alive.

"Ser Jaime, protect my little brother" '

Jaime gasped and looked around the darkness of his room, his eyes desperately looking for anyone, but he didn't find anyone. His heart beating on his throat like a hammer slowed when he understood that it was a dream.

The emotions suddenly came crashing down on top of him like a hammer; taking a deep breath, he swallowed back the tears, and his mind remembered what she said.

Protect my little brother

Rhaella Targaryen

The days were slowly passing by, and with them, Rhaella's belly enlarged bit by bit. It was already noticeable as almost three months had passed since Maester told her that she was pregnant, so she should be six or seven months in by now?

She hoped the child would live this time even if their future were uncertain...So many children had come from her womb, and yet only two of them survived more than a couple of months...and only one of them living still...the Gods were cruel, but such was the nature of things. Perhaps if she turned to a different sort of Gods...like the old ones ...

But if the child lived, it would need to endure a world where they fell from grace thanks to her stupid brother-husband and his paranoia and his madness, and Gods know what else was in that broken head.

Her family survived so many challenges: the Faith Militant's Uprising, Maegor's battles against Aenys' sons, the Dance of Dragons, the Blackfyre Rebellions, and numerous other conflicts, only for her mad brother to end it all by angering half the realm into a war that could be avoided. She wondered what her ancestors would think of this...she was ashamed to even think of it and even more ashamed she was because it happened during her tenure as the Queen...

She had been a meek and weak creature who submitted to Aerys and allowed him to do as he pleased...but at least now she had some freedom for herself because he wasn't around, no more raping, and plenty of opportunities to be with her remaining son. Still, for every bit of joy she felt, she felt sorry that her grandchildren and daughter-in-law were not allowed to come with her into safety.

But this safety would not last long if she was to guess, so Rhaella began contemplating sending the two Dornish ladies-in-waiting back to their homes because she feared what could happen next, and she did not wish them to be harmed...

And to had to all of her worries, the situation in Dragonstone seemed to be getting worse by the day as well...There were little more than two thousand men holding the island. They were with their morale low as Ser Jacaerys Velaryon had told her a day ago, the handsome and young knight that looked so much like her now-deceased Rhaegar albeit with a much happier expression.

This low morale was due to the conflicts in the leadership of the garrison caused by the animosity between Lord Lucerys Velaryon, Master of Ships to her husband and one of his lickspittles, and Ser Jacaerys himself, Lucerys' former pride and joy of a son. The older Velaryon had given his son the right to choose a maid of his choice to marry, with the only condition being that she belonged to a noble and prestigious House. Still, the younger man chose the Lady Hailey Rykker of Duskendale, daughter of the first Lord Rykker of Duskendale, Elwood Rykker.

The Rykkers were knights in the service of the now extinct House Darklyn who got the wealthiest seat of Duskendale following the Defiance as Elwood Rykker had been one of Aerys' lickspittles for long. They were from an ancient line of Andal knights. Still, they never held a seat on thus, Lucerys deemed them unworthy of marrying into a proud and prestigious family like House Velaryon. His son, however, saw the immense potential that the trade between Driftmark and Duskendale had and married the woman, bringing great prosperity to both ports, much to Lord Lucerys' dismay.

The relationship between father and son was never the same, from the pride of Lucerys' brood to his excommunicated child, Ser Jacaerys had dropped a lot, but not in many people's eyes such as Rhaella's, the man was polite and gallant, with an easy smile that made everyone feel more relieved and the wits to make him a good ally. Lucerys was very smart too but less pleasant, especially with the years accumulating.

Things got worse when young Lady Hailey Rykker came to visit Rhaella. Still, most of all, show Ser Jacaerys the son he hadn't had the chance to see yet because of the war and his confinement in Dragonstone after suggesting Aerys bring Rhaegar to the battlefield, which her stupid brother ended up doing. Lucerys was so insufferable with his daughter-in-law that Rhaella was disgusted and could not stand him anymore, yet she had to because she was the Queen, and she was supposed to show temperance. But Gods did she hated it!

While the Dornish ladies were entertaining her son because he was so full of energy, Rhaella was in her room to rest a little because the pregnancy and the uncertainty of things left her weak and nervous, bad symptoms for a pregnant woman. The presence of the Velaryon baby in his mother's hands was a welcoming sight, however. "He is a handsome baby, your little Jaehon." Rhaella proclaimed as she cooed the dark brown-haired and dark brown-eyed boy who shared his mother's colouring but whose facial features were of a true Valyrian. He had very pale skin and somehow looked like her Rhaegar did when he was a baby...quiet and watchful...it made her feel tearful...she missed her son so much...

There were many rumours about the cute baby boy not being his father's because of the colouring, but Rhaella couldn't believe in any of it. She thought the whole thing started from Lucerys' mouth...to destroy Lady Hailey's image. Frankly, Lucerys reminded her too much of Aerys. However, fortunately, he still had a brain in him to not look or act like her brother-husband, or she suspected a more significant conflict within House Velaryon would erupt...and now it was not the time for it.

"Thank you, My Queen. I'm certainly flattered for having your approval." The Rykker woman smiled as she cooed her baby too.

"Do not mind those rumours, child." Rhaella smiled too, trying to sound reassuring and noticing that little Jaehon's eyes were not dark brown as she thought. Still, a weird tone of purple...it was so dark it looked black, but in reality, they seemed like the colour of the dragon glass that was so prevalent on the islands of Dragonstone and Driftmark... "I only see his father in the boy's face and with the proper light...his eyes do look purple, dragonglass purple."

"I'm glad I'm not the only one who sees it..." The lady sighed, defeated. "I have honoured my husband as any wife should...I fell in love with him and him with me if his words were to be trusted. I almost died while giving birth to our son, and I can't have any anymore and yet...and yet people think I cuckolded Jace...What harm have I done to the world for the world to be so bad to me?"

The Lady Hailey was such a pleasant young woman who somehow reminded Rhaella of when she was twelve being married to Aerys...she felt pity for this woman and wanted to do more than comfort her. Still, she had little power to do so...the best she could do was to send Lucerys away from their rooms... "Worry not because everything will turn out fine, and your son will be the greatest Velaryon of all time, I tell you that much."

Lady Hailey chuckled. "My Queen...it will be hard to surpass the likes of Corlys the Sea Snake or Alyn Oakenfist...I just want him to be a good person and good knight...like his father."

"I suppose that is a good objective, to begin with," Rhaella admitted. "And people will know how good of a person you are soon, believe it."

"Thank you, My Queen, you are so very kind to me." The woman admitted. "But I fear what will happen to you and the children? Jace tells me the morale of the troops here is degrading at a fast rate...There has been no news of King's Landing, but the most likely outcome is that the Rebels took it...so they are likely to target Dragonstone and Driftmark very soon..."

"It's nothing serious, I'm sure..." Rhaella lied, growing more anxious with the talk, for she did not know what would happen next. "Everything will be alright, and you should go put your son to sleep...how old is he? Can you tell this Queen that much?"

"He was born on the eleventh month of last year and is just a couple of weeks from reaching his first nameday, My Queen." The little one was a few months younger than her grandson...she wondered if they would be friends if the two survived...a Targaryen alone in the world is a dreadful thing...

A knock on the door interrupted their speech and thoughts. "My Queen, it's Ser Jacaerys and Maester Rudiger. We bring news from the capital."

Oh, please let them be good news... "Come in," she replied without hesitation, and both men entered. Maester Rudigen was older than her by twenty-two years if she remembered well but was still a bright mind even if he was not...too lovely...Ser Jacaerys' smile was as contagious as ever, and it made the two women in the room smile.

"Hailey, how are you?" The Valyrian asked of his wife as he planted a kiss on her forehead.

"Good enough."

"And your little one? Are you good?" The baby looked attentively at his father and then extended his little hand to catch his father's finger. "I guess you are..." The Velaryon chuckled. "Anyway, I will not ask My Queen if she is well because I think it's best if I wait for her to read the letter and see if things look bad or good. Maester."

"Here, My Queen." The Maester gave her the letter, which Rhaella opened and read quickly and with much anticipation.

He sat outside the chambers with the heir to the throne next to him. Ser Willem Darry, the last loyal member of the Kingsguard, listened as the Queen's screams rattled through the halls. The storm outside was ferocious, and the knight could barely fathom the idea that the thunder that roared was softer than the cries of Her Grace. The boy next to him fidgeted with his fingers, turning over and over one of his father's rings. The news from King's Landing had come swiftly on the words of the Spider: the usurper was planning a siege on Dragonstone. If the old knight hadn't known any better, he would have thought that this news was what sent Rhaella Targaryen into labour. But now, he sits with Viserys, for the birthing chamber was not for a man.

"I hope it's a girl," The knight heard Viserys whisper to himself, "Mother always wanted a girl."

Darry smiled softly; perhaps the boy could be saved from his family's madness. He remembered the old saying of how with every Targaryen, a coin is flipped. Apparently, Aerys' coin had landed on the wrong side while Rhaella's on the right. Rhaegar however? It was said to be poor to speak ill of the dead, but the knight couldn't help but honestly believe that Rhaegar's coin had still been spinning when he had reached manhood, a coin refusing to land. He would have been a great king, but for what he did with the Stark girl? Nay, that was the very madness that would have to lead the kingdom to ruin. Viserys, the young boy that he was, was prone to fits of rage, especially after Aerys had attempted to take him under his wing. The boy could be trained to be something great with a firm hand and a king's heart. Perhaps even a better king than Rhaegar would ever have been.

"Would you not wish a brother, your grace?" the knight questioned, fearing the answer he might receive. But Viserys shook his head, "No, a mother deserves to be happy." Darry would have let the matter lie except for the next thing that came out of the young boy's mouth, said in nothing but a whisper. "I heard the servants talking about how father used to treat the mother. H-How could someone be so cruel? They couldn't have been telling the truth, could they, Ser Willem?" The old knight narrowed his eyes at the ground, his hands folding into one another as he tried to formulate a valid response.

"You being quiet tells me all I need to know then."

"Perhaps it would be a conversation for you and your mother, your grace. It is not of the Kingsguard to speak ill of the king."

"But I am your king now, aren't I?" the boy questioned, "Mother crowned me herself; you were there! I am the king, not that man that killed Rhaegar."

The boy was smart; he'd give him that. "My apologies, your grace, for it-"

Cries of a babe filled the corridor before Willem Darry finished his sentence. He shot up, his hand instinctively grasping his hilt. A new Targaryen had been born to the world.

"Your grace, please!" The maester cried, "It is not safe for you to hold the child."

"That is my child, maester, and you will let me hold her."

Rhaella could feel herself getting weaker and weaker with each passing breath. No, she couldn't die; she couldn't leave her children in the world. A Targaryen alone in the world was a terrible thing. Oh, Viserys, he was still so young, so malleable. If placed in the wrong hands, she could see the boy turning out to be just like his father. Aerys, she had tried to love him once, back when he had great ideas that never came to fruition. But like those very ideas, she couldn't bear to look at him any longer than she had to. Their children, born of rape, she despised the man and would until her very last day. Her brother, her husband, her king. Could the same be said of Viserys and this newborn girl? The maester finally gave into Rhaella's demands and placed the babe in her arms. The Queen choked back a sob as she was reminded of Shaena, their first daughter who had been born stillborn. She would have been Rhaegar's bride, no doubt, even with the age difference. Eight years, the same as between Viserys and her new child.

Pain ripped through the Queen, and she let out another scream, the child in her arms crying as well. The maester took the child and yelled orders at his assistants; the room was turning dark.

No, you cannot die.

Many women died in childbirth, her own dear friend Joanna Lannister had died in childbirth, but she was determined not to be one of them. Rhaella felt the Stranger's cold hands grasp around her neck, pulling her down, but Rhaella was a dragon, and she would defeat a god if she must. The Targaryens were worshipped as gods once if she remembered the stories correctly, and if they were worshipped as the Seven were, then she could defeat him. With all her strength, Rhaella kept her eyes open and focused on the new babe.

Viserys was growing ever impatient as his mother refused to let him in. The maester had brought Ser Willem aside and explained everything in gruesome detail. It was one of the many times in his life that the Kingsguard was thankful he was not a maester.

"What if it's a boy? What if she wants him to be king instead of me!?"

Paranoia, no, it must not happen.

"Your grace, your mother is very weak right now. I am sure her grace does not wish for you to see what a mess it is in there". Surely, I don't. This seemed to satisfy the prince for a few moments until he saw yet another servant walk into the room and bar the door behind them. The knight rolled his eyes at the boy, who started to fume once more, and instead of scolding him as a father would, he pressed his hand on his shoulder.

"You're worried for your mother; that is an admirable trait, your grace. Always keep that in mind, especially when you take the throne."

The young prince smiled up at the knight, "Thank you, Ser Willem, and I'll remember your words often."

Gah, it hurt the man's heart hearing the boy try to sound wiser than his years. Perhaps the death of his father would be a good thing for the lad. It was good for the kingdom; however, the succession was not what it needed to be. Robert Baratheon, bah, the usurper, would one day find himself trapped with the traitorous Lannisters with nothing but a cry for help. He would gladly become a kingslayer just to put Viserys back on the throne.

Finally, after what seemed like ages, the door creaked open, and the maester bowed his head.

"Your grace, Ser Willem, the queen would like to see you both."

Viserys all but bounded into the room to see his mother; Ser Willem, however, followed at a more respectful pace and distance. A smile was brought to his face when the Queen hugged her now eldest child and wiped away his tears. Should he be intruding on this moment? Nay, she had requested him here as well.

"I thought I was going to lose you," Viserys whispered to his mother through the tears, but Rhaella ran her fingers through his long silver-blonde locks and hummed softly. A wet nurse carried the new child and handed it to Rhaella.

"Viserys, my sweet, I wish for you to meet your sister."

A smile broke out on Viserys' face, a girl! While it was now only Viserys who would be able to further the Targaryen name, at least there was another heir to the throne should something happen to him. "What is her name?" the knight asked, knowing he was intruding on a tender moment.

"Daenerys, her name is Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen."

"Listen to me, Viserys, no matter what happens, always protect your sister, promise me", she pleaded with a weak voice.

Viserys looked at her in confusion. "Muna, y-you will be-e the-ere!" Viserys asked with tears running down his cheek.

"Promise me", she pleaded again, and Viserys swallowed and nodded his head, kissed her cheek.

"I - I promise."