The Dark Dragon || Game of Thrones

Mother of Dragons

At Rhalla's signal, Robin and his men unmounted their horses and hid behind the bushes that separated them from the Lannister men.

Robin crawled to the Targaryen's side with discretion to discuss their next move.
"We could find another way, or we could simply say hello and share their fire." he whispered, using just the wrong time to use sarcasm.

Rhalla took a moment to study the situation. They could just stay hidden behind the bushes until the soldiers left, which was very risky as well. Or they could attack.

All the princess could think about was Robb's betrayal. A rage consumed her whole body the more she looked at the lion on the armors.
The same lion that represented the house that betrayed and butchered her family, one by one.

Rhalla took her bow and prepared an arrow to shoot. Robin saw the fire in her eyes, and knew he had to intervene.
"We don't have to do this." he whispered, trying his best to calm the young woman who aimed her arrow at one of the Lannister men, disregarding his warnings.

She tried to stop, but it was too much. She couldn't control her moves until she found herself releasing the arrow that landed right in the man's throat, making him choke on his own thick blood.

Robin looked at her with disappointment before he and his guards charged at the remaining men. They were clearly outnumbered, but the dark-haired Targaryen's gaze couldn't focus on anything but the man she shot.

How he wanted to tear his throat open to breath as his own blood suffocated him. How he landed on the ground. Lifeless, his eyes wide open as blood poured from his mouth.

It was Rhalla's first kill, and it was horrible. She couldn't believe that she was the one to claim his life. That anger led her to do this.
Horrified by her actions, it was Kyra's sharp screaming that got her out of her chain of thought.

The fighting was over, but Mace was lying on the ground, along with all the Lannister men, and another Flint guard. He had taken a blade in the stomach.

Kyra ran and knelt to his side, pressing on his wound to try and stop the bleeding as he coughed.
Rhalla got out of her hideout and took a few steps closer to examine the narrow field of battle.

Robin had a small cut on his cheek, but nothing too serious. Their eyes met, and behind the tough face he tried to maintain, she could perceive the regret of losing his men. He blamed her. She could see it.

The men were dead, all because of her own stupidity. Over a useless angry moment.
Kyra buried her face in Mace's chest, weeping over the loss of the man she grew to love.
Robin sheathed his sword and knelt next to her, placing his hand on her shoulder to soothe her pain as he watched his soulless friend.

Rhalla didn't know what to do. It was her fault. But her mind kept reminding her of one dream she had. A dream that she kept having over and over. A dream of fire and blood. Fire and birth.

"We should build a pyre. For all of them." she muttered. No emotion resonating in her tone.
Robin turned to acknowledge her words before he took a deep breath and ushered his men to start cutting wood from the trees.

Kyra couldn't let go of Mace. It was until they snatched him away and rested his body on the pyre that she stood up and distanced herself from the group, and from Rhalla.

Rhalla couldn't simply go and ask her forgiveness. Her handmaiden and best friend deserved better than that. She deserved more time.

While the men collected the wood for an enormous pyre, at Rhalla's request, she took the cloak that loaded her horse, in which she had hidden her three dragon eggs, then she sat on the ground, crossed her legs and placed the cloak in her arms.