The funeral of Princess Visenya Targaryen and her stillborn son was a somber and heart-wrenching event that brought together members of House Targaryen and other noble houses from across the realm. The funeral took place on a cliffside, overlooking the vast expanse of the sea, where Maekar's dragon, Aegar, stood ready to fulfill a final duty.

Viserys, grief-stricken and filled with sorrow, stood tall beside his daughter's lifeless body, his eyes betraying the immense pain he felt. Maekar stood by his father's side, his face etched with anger and sadness. Alicent offered her support, her heart aching for the loss of her sister-in-law and nephew as she held her pregnant belly.

Rhaenyra stood close to her father, her tears flowing freely as she mourned the loss of her beloved sister. The weight of the tragedy that had befallen their family was heavy on her shoulders.

Visenya's two children, Tommen and Myrcella, too young to fully understand the depth of their loss, clung to their uncle's arms, seeking solace in his embrace. Their innocent faces were a stark reminder of the life that was cut short, leaving behind a void that could never be filled.

Martyn Lannister, Visenya's husband, stood at a distance with his mother and two brothers, his guilt evident in the way he carried himself. He knew that another pregnancy would have endangered Visenya's life, but he had disregarded the risks, leading to this tragic outcome. Maekar's fury towards Martyn was untameable, the anger simmering beneath the surface.

As the last rays of the sun bathed the cliffside in a golden glow, Maekar, his voice heavy with grief and anger, gave the order that would bring closure to this painful chapter. "Dracarys," he commanded, and Aegar, the mighty dragon, unleashed a torrent of fire, engulfing the bodies of Visenya and her stillborn son.

The flames danced and crackled, consuming the physical remains of the princess and her child, their spirits now free from the realm. After that the funeral party began leaving to make their way back to the Red Keep, it left Maekar standing in front of the pyre, holding his niece and nephew tightly as they wept for their mother and brother.

"Come along, my love," Alicent said softly, rubbing Maekar's arm. She placed her hands on Tommen's and Myrcella's heads, gently running her thumbs through their hair. The children nodded, eying the funeral pyre once more before walking back towards the carriage waiting for them.

As the sun began to set over the Red Keep, casting a warm golden glow across the courtyard, Alicent and Maekar found themselves standing side by side near the gardens. In the distance, they spotted Tommen and Myrcella sitting on a stone bench beneath a blooming cherry blossom tree. The siblings clung to each other, tears streaming down their faces as they tried to make sense of the overwhelming loss they had experienced.

Alicent, her heart aching for the young ones, took a step forward. Maekar followed suit, holding his wife like a lifeline. They approached Tommen and Myrcella slowly, giving them space to process their emotions.

"Tommen, Myrcella," Alicent began, her voice gentle yet filled with empathy. "I know no words can ease your pain right now, but know that your mother loved you both dearly. She was a remarkable woman, and her spirit will always be with you."

Tommen looked up at Alicent, his eyes red and puffy from crying. He sniffled and wiped away his tears with the back of his hand. "Why did Mama have to go?" he asked, his voice trembling with sadness.

Alicent knelt down in front of Tommen, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Sometimes, life brings us great sorrow and challenges that we cannot fully understand. But in these moments, it is important to remember the love and the memories we shared with those we have lost. Your mother will forever live on in your hearts and in the stories that we will tell of her."

Myrcella, her face streaked with tears, wrapped her arms around Alicent's pregnant belly. "I miss Mama," she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Maekar crouched down beside Myrcella, his eyes filled with compassion. "Myrcella, your mother will always be watching over you, guiding you through life's journey. Remember the lessons she taught you and hold onto the love you shared," he said gently, tracing circles on her arm.

Alicent and Maekar sat with Tommen and Myrcella, offering them a comforting presence as the sun dipped below the horizon. They spoke of their own memories of Visenya, sharing stories that brought smiles to the children's faces amidst their tears. As the evening darkness enveloped the courtyard, the four of them sat together, finding solace in each other's presence.

—————

As the moon cast a soft glow through the windows of Alicent and Maekar's chambers, the weight of grief hung heavy in the air. Alicent could sense the sorrow etched deep within Maekar's eyes, the loss of Visenya and her stillborn son weighing heavily on his heart.

With a tender touch, Alicent approached Maekar, her steps light and cautious. She knew that words alone could not heal the pain he felt, but she hoped to offer him solace in their shared sorrow. Alicent sat sideways on Maekar's lap, her right arm secured tightly around his broad shoulders, her legs dangling over the end of the chair as she tucked her head into the crook of his neck.

Alicent's and Maekar placed their free hands on her pregnant belly.

Alicent held him tightly as if to shield him from the world's cruelty. Her touch conveyed a depth of understanding that words couldn't express. They sat there, in the quiet darkness, finding solace in each other's embrace.

Maekar's voice was barely a whisper as he spoke, his words filled with a mixture of grief and longing. "I never imagined a world without Visenya by my side, and to lose my nephew before he had a chance to take his first breath... it feels as if a part of me has been taken away."

Alicent held him tighter, her voice soft and soothing. "Maekar, your pain is immeasurable, and I cannot pretend to fully understand it. But I want you to know that you are not alone in this. I am here for you, always."

Maekar's grip tightened on Alicent, his voice trembling with raw emotion. "I am grateful to have you by my side, my love."

Alicent pressed her forehead against his, her voice filled with unwavering support. "We will honor Visenya's memory by carrying on her legacy, by being there for Tommen and Myrcella, who need us now more than ever."

"I love you," Maekar whispered through the darkness of the room.

"And I love you more than words could possibly describe," Alicent whispered back.

—————

As promised, Maekar returned to the war in the Stepstones. The nameday celebrations of Aegon and Baelon were cut short in light of the death of Visenya and her stillborn child, and the afternoon after their funeral Maekar returned to war. As he landed, he could feel the eyes of his men on him as he approached the war table.

"Your Grace, we give our condolences on the loss of Princess Visenya," Ser Laenor bowed his head at the returning Prince. The rest of the gathered Lords and soldiers murmured their condolences, causing Maekar to nod in thanks. Maekar looked at Declan, who stared at the ground.

"What is the situation at hand, my Lords?" Maekar asked, glancing around at the gathered men.

"We have sixteen, perhaps, eighteen seaworthy ships," Lord Corlys informed the Prince. "Seven hundred foot soldiers, three hundred Dothraki, some knights. Our food quickly dwindles, save for what we can fish from the sea."

"Then we have a fortnight, maybe a bit longe with strict rationing," Maekar said in realisation.

"I've made call for Driftmark to send more ships, but they will be weeks away," Lord Corlys continued on. "We are faltering and the Triarchy knows it. We must press the attack, continue sending the dragons."

"It's pointless, father," Ser Laenor spoke before Maekar could, and the Prince let the boy speak. "The Crabfeeder has created a chokepoint here, beyond these dunes," Ser Laenor informed Maekar, pointing at certain points on the map. "Archers hold the high positions, foot soldiers hold the ground. We've strafed them on
dragonback again and again, but they just retreat within the caves.

"Dragons can circle Bloodstone until they fall out of the sky," Vaemond spoke up. "The Crabfeeder and his men have no reason to leave those caves."

"Then we must give them one, an offering of flesh to bait the crab," Maekar had an idea forming in his mind.

"Who?" Lord Corlys asked.

"Dragon returning!" Maekar watched as Caraxes roared overhead.

"Yes. Who?" Asked Vaemomd, and Maekar's eyes snapped back towards him. "Which man here will
happily go to his death? Show me the knight who will march into that hell pit, Prince Maekar, and I will show you a madman."

"Good, because many already call me unhinged and my uncle a madman," and Maekar heard the gasps that left the soldiers lips.

"You and Daemon are why we are losing!" Vaemomd seethed. Maekar watched as Caraxes landed by Aegar, the white and golden beast that belonged to Maekar seemingly dwarfed the Bloodwyrm.

"They are at least fighting this war!" Declan spoke for the first time since Maekar arrived.

"What role have you played in their council, uncle, other than Master of Complaints?" A smirk rose to Maekar's lips as Lord Corlys scolded his son.

"If King's Landing will not support the Prince and Daemon, why should any of us?!" Vaemomd shouted, slamming his fist against the table.

"Blood or no, Vaemond, I will not have you stoke mutiny," Lord Corlys spoke in a low tone to his brother. Maekar eyed his uncle as he walked closer.

"Nephew," Daemon said in an unusually soft voice. "I wish the happiest of namedays to Prince Aegon and Prince Baelon and my sincerest condolences for your sister and nephew."

"Thank you, uncle," Maekar nodded. "It's been a long few days," Daemon nodded, patting Maekar's armoured shoulder before taking his gloves and helm off and placing them on the table.

"If you do not seize control of this war, my Lord, the crabs will soon dine on all of us," Vaemond told his brother. Their attention was stolen by the sound of armoured footsteps, and the gathered soldiers and Lords watched in shock as a group of men dressed in Targaryen armour approached them.

"Prince Daemon, Prince Maekar," a soldier panted as he walked up the hill, standing before the two Targaryen's. "I bring word from His Grace, Viserys Targaryen, first of his name, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, and Protector of the Realm," the soldier handed the missive to Maekar.

"My son and brother...

I have ordered ships and two thousand men to set sail from King's Landing to join the effort in the Stepstones. Daemon, though time and circumstance have seen us estranged, know that it is not my desire to see you and Maekar fail in your cause.

It is instead my hope that this aid will deliver the victory that has thus far evaded us.

I shall pray nightly to the gods for your safe return."

Maekar slammed the letter down on the table. Three years his father had ignored Maekar's, Lord Corlys' and Visenya's pleads to battle the Triarchy, and now Visenya was dead he wished to send his aid.

Maekar gripped his helm that sat on the table, before smashing it into the soldiers skull. Maekar heard the satisfying crack of the soldiers cheekbone and nose, and his rage deafened his surroundings as he repeatedly slammed the helm into the soldiers face, before getting dragged off by Lord Corlys and Ser Laenor.

—————

Maekar sat opposite Daemon as his uncle rowed the boat to what could be their certain death. Maekar took time to reflect on his life, how he had ran away from home at the age of eleven with his sword, a bag of gold and Aegar, at age fourteen he became a Khal of seventy thousand strong after defeating a man three times his size, then when he first sacked a village with his Khalasar, then when he was nineteen and returned home, to Queen Aemma's death, being officially named heir to the Iron Throne and his marriage to Alicent and the birth of his sons.

Oh, Alicent, Maekar thought of his darling wife. Would she weep for him if news reached her that he had died in combat? Would she hate him? He wondered if she would understand the sacrifices he had made, the burdens he carried, and the unwavering loyalty he held for his people.

After a treacherous journey across the rough waters, the boat carrying Maekar and Daemon finally reached the desolate shores of Bloodstone. The air was heavy with tension as they stepped onto the sandy beach, their hearts pounding with a mix of apprehension and resignation. Around them wooden structures were still set alight and bodies littered the beach.

As they walked deeper in land, their eyes were fixed upon the imposing figure of Craghas Drahar, also known as the Crabfeeder, and his men. He stood tall, his weathered face, battle-scarred body and the half broken Harpy mask that stuck to his face a testament to his ruthless reputation.

With a white flag held high, Maekar and Daemon approached Craghas Drahar, their footsteps heavy with the weight of surrender. The sound of crashing waves seemed to echo the uncertainty in their hearts.

Maekar's grip on his sword tightened for a moment before he made what he hoped was a symbolic decision. With a neutral expression, he laid down his weapon on the sand, a clear act of surrender. Daemon followed suit, laying his sword beside Maekar's, their collective submission silently pleading for mercy.

Craghas Drahar's eyes flickered with a mix of suspicion and curiosity as he observed the defeated duo. He wasn't accustomed to such displays of surrender, and it intrigued him. The Crabfeeder, known for his ruthless nature, wasn't easily swayed by acts of submission. He motioned a group of his men forward, and watched as they approached the two Targaryen's.

With a stern expression, Craghas Drahar slowly stepped forward, his gaze never leaving Maekar and Daemon.

As Maekar and Daemon looked into Craghas Drahar's eyes, they silently hoped that their plan would work. When they were close enough, Maekar and Daemon, they let the Triarchy soldiers take their swords. They watched as the soldiers nodded to the Cradfeeder before unsheathing their daggers, killing the troops holding their swords.

They reclaimed Dark Sister and Maekar's unnamed sword, cutting through the remaining enemies before taking cover behind a wooden structure to block the arrows raining down upon them.

"I'll take the left side closest to the archers, you take the right side," Maekar pointed in each direction. Daemon nodded, squeezing Maekar's shoulder before they both took off.

His sword gleaming in the sunlight, Maekar moved with a grace, his movements honed by years of experience. With each swing of his blade, he struck down his foes with precision. The clash of steel on steel filled the air as Maekar fought off the onslaught of enemies surrounding him.

His eyes darted from one opponent to another, assessing their weaknesses and exploiting them with well-placed strikes. He parried incoming blows, his reflexes sharp and his movements calculated. The weight of his sword felt familiar in his grip, and with every swing, he reminded himself of the purpose that fueled his actions.

As enemy soldiers closed in around him, Maekar's adrenaline surged, heightening his senses and sharpening his focus. He moved with ferocity, striking down his enemies with swift and powerful blows. With each fallen enemy, his determination grew, fueling his desire to protect his homeland and reunite with his wife.

Arrows whistled through the air, a deadly rain aimed at thinning the ranks of their enemies. Maekar dodged and parried the incoming projectiles, his reflexes and agility saving him from the deadly rain. His attention never wavered from the task at hand – to eliminate the enemy and secure his path forward.

In the midst of the chaos, Maekar's sword became an extension of his arm, a force to be reckoned with. His strikes were lethal, cutting through the enemy lines like a scythe through wheat. With each enemy he felled, he inched closer to his ultimate objective.

But amidst the chaos of battle, disaster struck. An arrow pierced through the air, finding its mark in Maekar's leg. He gritted his teeth, momentarily faltering in his stride as pain seared through his body. Determined not to let his injuries hinder his progress, he pushed forward, favoring his uninjured leg as he continued his assault on the enemy.

However, fate seemed to have a cruel sense of timing. Another arrow came hurtling towards Maekar, this time finding its mark in his shoulder. The impact was fierce, causing him to stumble and lose his grip on his sword. Blood trickled from his wounds, staining his tunic, but he refused to let the pain consume him.

Knowing that he needed immediate cover, Maekar's eyes searched the chaotic battlefield for a place to hide. His gaze landed on a broken wooden structure nearby, its broken state offering the promise of temporary refuge. Ignoring the ache in his body, he sprinted towards it, seeking shelter within its uneven walls.

As he entered the structure, Maekar's breathing was ragged, his body shaking with a combination of exhaustion and pain. He leaned against the wall, wincing as he applied pressure to his wounded leg and shoulder. The sounds of battle echoed around him, the clash of weapons and cries of agony serving as a haunting soundtrack to his solitude.

Maekar took a moment to collect himself, his mind racing with thoughts of his next move. Despite the pain, surrender wasn't an option. He knew that if he wanted to survive and reunite with his wife and children, he had to find a way to turn the tides of this battle in their favor.

With a determined glint in his eyes, Maekar assessed his surroundings, searching for any advantage he could use to his benefit. The broken structure offered limited protection, but it also provided him with a strategic vantage point. From there, he could observe the enemy's movements and plan his next move.

As he waited in the relative safety of the structure, Maekar's mind raced with thoughts of Daemon. He hoped that his uncle was faring well on the right side of the beach. Maekar breathed heavily, snapping the arrows in half and pulling them out of his body before ripping the sleeves of his tunic and tying them around the wounds to slow the bleeding.

Maekar steadied his breathing gripping his sword tightly as he prepared to fight. Just as he was about to renter the fight, the sound of loud roars was heard for miles as Aegar, Caraxes and Seasmoke as entered the battlefield. Maekar laughed happily, watching his white and gold beast burn the group of Triarchy soldiers that surrounded Maekar's hideout.

The large dragon landed with a thud, crushing another group of soldiers as it let out a roar, letting its rider limp towards him and mount.

"Soves, Aegar!"