From Flames to Fury (Part 2)

Chapter 1: Bending the Knee

I searched her face, desperate to find a way out of this nightmare, but Rhaenyra was resolute. Her eyes burned with the same fire that made me love her, a fierceness that would never back down, not even for me. And yet, beneath that strength, I could see the fear—raw and unspoken, a flicker in her eyes that told me she knew exactly what she was asking of me. The desperation in her plea was almost unbearable, as if she was already preparing herself for the moment she would be gone, for the moment she might never see me again.

She loved me. And she was asking me to love her back in the most heartbreaking way imaginable—by walking away, by surviving without her.

"Elizabeth... please," she said softly, her voice breaking in a way that made my heart lurch.

Fuck me.

I closed my eyes, as if shutting them could somehow shield me from the weight of her request, the crushing plea in her words. Rhaenyra didn't say please. She never begged, never asked for anything beyond what she demanded from the world. But here she was, asking me for the one thing I didn't know if I could give—my willingness to leave her behind to die.

The silence stretched between us, heavy and unbearable, the weight of her plea pressing on my chest like a boulder I couldn't move.

"Rhaenyra, I—" My words came out tangled, choked by the tears threatening to spill from my eyes. My heart gave a painful lurch, as if it sensed the next words that were clawing their way up my throat, desperate to hold them back before they could escape.

"Okay," I croaked, reaching up to grab her face, nodding even as the words felt like they were tearing me apart.

"Okay," I repeated, my voice barely a whisper as I met her eyes. I saw it then—relief and despair flickering across her face, crashing together the second my hands touched her. It was as if the walls she had so carefully constructed crumbled in an instant, like a fragile structure blown apart by a gust of wind.

She closed her eyes, her lips trembling, and leaned forward, pressing her forehead against mine. A shaky breath escaped her, and I could feel her weight sag against me, feel the exhaustion she had been hiding for so long finally break free.

"Swear it to me," she whispered, the plea still clinging to her voice, raw and vulnerable in a way I had never seen before.

My fingers found their way to the back of her head, cradling her gently, and I lost the battle against my tears. I pulled back slightly, standing on tiptoe, and kissed her forehead, lingering there as I felt her body tremble beneath my touch.

"I swear it," I whispered into her skin, sealing the promise with another soft kiss. My lips brushed against her brow, a silent vow that weighed heavier than any I had ever made.

And then I pulled her into a hug, wrapping my arms around her tightly. Rhaenyra clutched at my back, her fingers curling into the fabric of my clothes with such desperation, as if she feared this would be the last time. The way she held me, the way her grip tightened, mirrored the fear that gripped my own heart.

She didn't need to say anything. The tremor in her body, the way she buried her face into my shoulder, told me everything.

I knew she feared this would be goodbye.

And so did I.

***

The morning air bit at my skin, a bitter chill that seemed to seep into my bones as I stood outside, gripping Freya tightly in my arms. A dense fog lay over the ground, swirling around our feet like an omen, casting an eerie stillness over the land. My eyes swept over the sea of faces before me—thousands of men, their expressions grim, their clothes dirty and worn, their eyes hollow. It was impossible to ignore the tension that hung in the air, thick and suffocating.