133 AC
Third Person POV
By the next day night, the train carrying Cregan and his 300 Wolf Pack men reached Moat Cailin. Here, they secured a fresh complement of horses after making a swift, efficient deal with House Skoll, with his aunt Mordred's husband, who maintained an outpost there. Aunt Mordred, best friend of Rhaenyra Targaryen, helped him secure the deal and gave him provisions for his travel. The Northern steeds, accustomed to long marches and harsh terrain, were a vital upgrade from the train for overland travel.
The following morning, after breaking fast, the company resumed its relentless journey south. They moved with purpose, a disciplined force cutting through the familiar Neck pathways. As they approached the various lordships along their path in the south of neck, many houses simply gave way, recognizing the formidable presence of Cregan's host. The whispers of an ice dragon, said to be even larger than the legendary Vhagar, now accompanying the Prince, certainly helped to clear their path. Saphira's reputation made direct confrontation unthinkable for these smaller houses.
Cregan, with his knowledge of the future, made his way towards Rook's Rest. In the original timeline, this was destined to be the first major battle of the Dance of the Dragons, a brutal aerial confrontation that would claim Princess Rhaenys and her dragon Meleys, and leave King Aegon II grievously wounded with a burnt face. He pushed his men harder, the urgency of his purpose driving them onward.
They marched for ten grueling days, covering ground at a remarkable pace. On the eleventh day, they finally made camp near Maidenpool, the air growing noticeably warmer and the landscape greener. After ensuring his men were settled and concealed, Cregan dispatched his wargs from the Wolf Pack to get information about what was happening around Rook's Rest.
It wasn't long before a warg returned, his eyes still distant, his mind processing the images he'd gleaned. "My Prince," the warg reported, his voice low, "an army, holding green banners with the gold three-headed dragon, is marching towards Rook's Rest. They intend to sack it and bring it under the Greens' banner."
"How much time until they reach Rook's Rest?" Cregan asked, his jaw tightening.
"They will be there by tomorrow mid-day, my Prince," the warg confirmed.
The next morning, Cregan's force undertook a hard march towards Rook's Rest, pushing their mounts and themselves to their limits. They arrived just as the battle was unfolding, a chaotic spectacle of fire and steel. Below, Criston Cole was already rallying the Green army, directing them to advance on Rook's Rest.
Above, the sky was a canvas of deadly aerial combat. Princess Rhaenys Targaryen, astride her formidable red dragon Meleys, was locked in a desperate struggle against two much larger beasts: Aegon, mounted on the golden Sunfyre, and Aemond, astride the colossal Vhagar. The roar of dragons, the clash of scales, and the searing heat of dragonflame filled the air. Cregan had arrived just in time.
Rhaenys Targaryen POV
Rhaenys Targaryen POV
As I flew atop Meleys, the wind whipping past my face, my thoughts were a swirling tempest. The Green army below – a force sent to besiege our allies, the staunch supporters of the rightful queen. My blood boiled. Aemond and his monstrous Vhagar had given my sweet Luke grave injuries, leaving him feverish and unconscious. This wasn't just strategy; it was vengeance. I wanted to vent my frustrations, to unleash the fury burning within me. It had taken every ounce of my willpower to even secure the Queen's permission to come to our allies' aid.
The guttural roar of Meleys broke me from my musings, pulling my gaze downwards. The Green army had dug trenches, erected siege towers, and surrounded Rook's Rest, raining arrows upon the keep. With a furious command, "Dracarys!" I urged Meleys to dive. We swept over their lines, raining fire, scattering their formations like frightened sheep. Panic erupted below, their disciplined ranks crumbling.
Then, a blaring horn cut through the din. I looked up. There, soaring through the sky, was Aegon on Sunfyre, flying directly towards me. My jaw tightened. "Angos, Meleys!" (Attack, Meleys!) I roared, and my mighty dragon responded, a streak of crimson against the pale sky.
We met in a clash of scales and flame, a brutal aerial ballet. Meleys, larger and swifter than Sunfyre, quickly gained the upper hand. We tangled, a whirlwind of dragonfire and snapping jaws, Meleys's superior agility giving her an advantage.
Then, a shadow fell over us. I glanced to my right. Aemond, mounted on the colossal Vhagar, was flying towards us, a grim determination etched on his face. As Meleys and Sunfyre remained locked in a desperate embrace, Aemond roared a command, and Vhagar opened her immense maw, a torrent of dragonfire ready to engulf us.
"Soves, Meleys!" (Fly, Meleys!) I commanded, and my dragon, with a surprising burst of speed, disengaged from Sunfyre. We twisted away, just in time. Sunfyre's wing caught the edge of Vhagar's flame, a brief, terrifying blaze that quickly diminished, leaving him momentarily off-balance but still stable in the sky.
My rage surged anew. "Angos, Vhagar!" (Attack, Vhagar!) I urged Meleys. Vhagar might be immense, but the old bronze dragon lacked the swiftness of her younger kin. My plan was simple: take the rider first. Meleys darted around the sluggish Vhagar, delivering a few stinging scratches to her thick hide. They barely registered, but the fight was growing increasingly difficult. Aegon, having steadied Sunfyre, urged him back into the fray, flanking me. Now, I was at a distinct disadvantage, caught between two formidable beasts.
As I fought Vhagar, I saw Sunfyre rapidly approaching from my side, a flash of gold and fire. A cold certainty settled in my heart. Today would be the day I died. I closed my eyes, bracing for the inevitable, for the darkness to take over.
But then, a roar, unlike any I had ever heard, tore through the air. I opened my eyes, and my breath caught. From the heavens above, a massive, pure white dragon with piercing blue eyes, larger even than Vhagar, descended like a bolt from the sky. It moved with impossible speed, diving straight for Sunfyre. Before Aegon could even react, the white dragon had caught Sunfyre's throat in its immense jaws, and with a terrifying, bone-crushing force, plunged him to the ground. The impact shook the very earth, a sickening thud that silenced the battlefield for a terrifying moment. My eyes widened, fixed on the impossible sight. A dragon... larger than Vhagar... and pure white? What in the seven hells was this?
Sunfyre let out a horrifying screech as the immense white dragon's jaws clamped down on its throat. The sound was cut short, choked off by the brutal force. After a few agonizing seconds, the golden dragon went limp. Sunfyre was dead.
Then, the ice dragon let loose a guttural roar, a deep, resonant sound that vibrated through the very air and shook the ground beneath Meleys's talons. It was a sound of raw power, a primal declaration. It then took flight, a ghostly white behemoth against the blue sky, and made its way towards us.
My heart leaped. I thought it was coming for me, that my battle was about to turn from dire to utterly hopeless. But when I looked carefully, its trajectory was clear: it was making straight for Vhagar. Aemond, sensing the immediate and terrifying threat, roared a command, urging the old dragon to pull back and retreat. Vhagar, surprisingly nimble for her age when spurred by a desperate rider, banked sharply and fled, disappearing into the distant clouds.
The white dragon, seeing Vhagar retreat, gave up the chase. Instead, it wheeled in the air, its majestic form outlined against the fading light, and began to rain dark blue flame down upon the usurper's army below. This was no ordinary fire. Everything the flame touched instantly turned to ice, freezing men in their tracks, encasing siege towers in brittle blue glass, and shattering weaponry into shards.
Just then, I heard the thunderous roars of men from the far end of the field. My gaze snapped to the ground, and I saw them: a disciplined charge of men wearing black armor, riding hard, tearing through the scattered Green army like a storm. Every man in their path was cut down, their formations annihilated.
Then it clicked. Ice dragons. Visenya's message to King's Landing, that Cregan Stark was coming for "sightseeing." I hadn't truly believed it, not like this, not so fast, not with such overwhelming force. My blood ran cold, then hot with a thrill I hadn't felt in years.
The Wolf Pack. Cregan had come.
My own fighting spirit surged, renewed and invigorated by this unexpected, miraculous arrival. "Dracarys, Meleys!" I roared, my voice hoarse with exhilaration. "Rain fire! On the Green army! Show them the fury of the red queen!" Meleys responded with a roar of her own, diving towards the battlefield, her own flames adding to the chaos, now an ally in a battle that had suddenly, miraculously, turned in our favor.