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🔥 “The Weight of War: Rhaenyra’s Reluctant Reliance on Daemon” 🐉

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In the war room’s quiet shadows, Rhaenyra confesses to Mysaria: “I do not think I can win this war.”
Mysaria’s reply is measured: “I think you are tired.”
Rhaenyra’s gaze hardens—“My own son questions my capabilities. He thinks I need Daemon at my side.”
(Doubt and pride intertwine; the seed of reliance is planted.)

A flash cuts through her mind: Daemon hurling a cup, striding toward her—fear flickering before she buries it.
(Memory as scar; trust shadowed by intimidation.)

Jace’s voice breaks the present: “We marshal the strength of the Vale, Maidenpool, and all our allies besides. We will still never match the strength of the Green armies. We need Daemon—and his dragon.”
(Strategy bends toward fire; the prince names the weapon they lack.)

Rhaenyra bristles—“May I be free for even one hour of the constant refrain of ‘Daemon, Daemon, Daemon’?”
(Pride resisting inevitability.)

But resolve comes swift. To Ser Alfred: “You were correct in saying our best hope of an army is with Daemon. I have erred in waiting for him to prove himself. Go to Harrenhal and place him in command.”
(A queen yields to necessity; command is given.)

The next breath belongs to Daemon—before the Riverlords, his words burn: “For every one of us who falls, a hundred of them. We fight for our queen. There will be no mercy.”
(The blade and the crown, bound by war’s decree.)

The edit closes on banners in the wind, a queen’s pride and a prince’s fury moving as one—whether she accepts it or not, Rhaenyra’s path to victory rides on Daemon’s wings.

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Copyright Disclaimer:
This edit is for entertainment purposes only. I do not own any footage or music used. This fan edit is under fair use for commentary and creative expression.

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