Kaelena stood beside The Watcher.

"Āmeȳ," whispered Rhysaenya, entire body tense as she moved toward the stairs. "Scībāq pūqrā ūtȳ sūñsēr ōñt?" (T: Mama. Do you know why you are here?)

Her mother nodded. "Īsȳ. Cōlū āst, tē āqū. Dūq tē ōñ āqū ēsthoc pūqrā ūtȳ sūñsēr." (T: Yes. That, I know. What I don't know is why you are.)

The Watcher cleared her throat, smiling sweetly. "Pāeña, Kāēleña?" (T: Problem, Kaelena?)

"Ōñȳ," replied Kaelena flatly. (T: None.)

Rhysaenya refused to believe it was her mother. Surely The Watcher was making an illusion. She challenged, "Lo issa ao, muña–" (T: If it is you, Mother–)

"Issa nyke, Rhysandra," said Kaelena, lip twitching as she reminded her of the name her daughter had had to go by in Westeros. She could speak High Valyrian, she simply didn't want to in front of The Watcher, who didn't seem to understand them. "Ūtȳ mōrȳa Vāztȳros, ōñ ūtȳ?" (T: You remember Westeros, don't you?)

"What the hell is going on?" asked Hope, not prepared for this. "That's your mother?"

"It is," said The Watcher with a sly grin. "I plucked her out right on time. I knew I would need her. After all, only I can control her." She saw Rhysaenya narrowing her eyes. "Ūtȳ sūñsēr ā ñiȳā, Rȳsēña. Qōmis sūmotȳ?" (T: You are smart girl, Rhysaenya. Who am I?)

Her stomach churned painfully. "She's not just the witch who created Malivore," she said in a small voice. "She's the woman that made dragons in Tērragoñh. And not just when my mother was dying. No... you were the witch who saw the vision, too, weren't you?"

"I was," said The Watcher. "I knew the dragons of Old Valyria would fall, and I knew that when they were gone, the other supernaturals would rise in power like never before. I made a species of my own to grant me my heart's desire... the existence of only witches. I succeeded in slaughtering many creatures, in ensuring witches were all that remained. My first batch was killed when Aegon and his wretched sisters conquered Westeros. They came for us first. When I realized my beauties had been killed, I performed a spell that made everyone forget they ever existed. Aegon, Visenya, and Rhaenys moved on to Westeros, leaving Tarragona in the dust.

"I waited... and waited... until suddenly that same blood came calling again in the form of Kaeden Targaryen. Poor Sēleña... my spell had come with a curse that affected her. After all, her ancestor was the one whose blood I used to make my little ones... The Lāvasȳ were Born of Lava and I used their magic too well. It was not until the last Targaryen in Westeros died that I was able to lift my spell and let her conceive. But little Kaelena was a frail child. The Lāvasȳ magic that ran through her blood came in conflict with the Valyrian roots she carried from her father. I made her a dragon to save her and anchor my species in the blood of Old Valyria. They would not fall again.

"I did not expect the people who saw it to be so selfish, I did not expect to find out that beasts of the night and bloodsuckers had been created elsewhere while I focused on only my native land. They used the dragons for their own gain, they attacked me when I would not perform the spell for those whose interests conflicted with mine. I was driven away from my land. I faked my death and when fleeing, encountered a witch who showed me another way. I didn't need dragons to kill all supernaturals. I needed Malivore. So I waited. I learned. And when the time came, when the dragons were hated, I made my beautiful boy and unleashed him. As I will when I finish killing all of you."

"How the hell have you stayed alive?" said Hope. "If Rhysaenya was born in 307 in your time... three hundred years afterAegon's Conquest..."

"The creatures I killed have fueled me. Why else would I have given Malivore the ability to consume? In between, well, I've had no choice but to feed off my fellow witches. When Esther Mikaelson died, I fed off her energy and used it to convince her that she'd made a great mistake... I thought she might handle the vampires for me while I worked on taking control over my Malivore again. It did not work. But I continued... I grew in power as more creatures were killed. When your family killed Dahlia and Inadu, I fed off that energy. I fueled the Spirits and I helped them make the red oak. I promised them I would make us the only faction... the Tribrid and all the mutts associated with her would fall. I will not fail in my task. If I succeeded, I'd no longer need to feed on the dead. I will live forever."

She lifted her hand, revealing a stake of red oak. "So, my dear, we come to our inevitable end. My disciples will kill your family and friends. This red oak will pierce your wicked little heart and fuel me to recreate Malivore. The ground and the skies will run red with blood." She smiled, gesturing to Kaelena. "Vē māē rōft ñiȳā. Ōxīdam lā ūtȳ dōzift pēcū hīȳ." (T: Go, my strong girl. Kill your weak little daughter.)

Hell broke loose as everyone attacked with The Watcher's command. Kaelena, eyes glowing red, leapt off the balcony and landed in front of Rhysaenya, tackling her and pulling her into her own space as the other supernaturals made for their army, The Watcher settling for a one-on-one with Hope.

"Āmeȳ, pāhor!" pleaded Rhysaenya, dodging punches and kicks without daring to defend herself. She shoved her back. "Tē vāȳ ōñ dātemare! Tē ōñ qēro ūquē dātemare ūtȳ!" When she kept coming for her, she tried again, "Āi nōū strāt kōm gōnpleī ȳū! GAOMAN DAOR JAELAGON NAEJOT ŌDRIKAGON AO!" (T: Mama, stop! I will not hurt you! I don't want to hurt you! I don't want to hurt you! I DON'T WANT TO HURT YOU!)

Kaelena kicked her, shoving her against the wall. "Se bona kessa sagon aōha mōris, riñītsos." She slapped her across the face, grabbing her by the throat while Rhysaenya still refused to raise a hand to her mother. "Iksā nākostōbā. Se tala nyke teptan sikagon naejot ēza qringaomatan nyke! Aōha kepa–" (T: And that will be your end, little girl. You are weak. The daughter I gave birth to has failed me! Your father–)

Rhysaenya headbutted her, elbowing her in the throat and swiping her legs out to knock her off-balance. "Gaomagon daor ȳdragon naejot nyke nūmāzma ñuha kepa! Ziry morghūltan syt īlva. Ziry jeldan naejot mīsagon īlva hen skoros ziry gōntan." (T: Do not speak to me about my father! He died for us. He wanted to protect us from what she did.)

The woman laughed darkly. "Lo konir sagon skoros ao pāsagon, iksā doru-borto hae sȳrī hae nākostōbā." (T: If that is what you believe, you are stupid as well as weak.)

She grabbed her by the hair, dragging her out of the building. Rhysaenya dug her heels into the ground, but couldn't pull away as hard as she tried. "Ēza gūrotan aōha ribazma, ao gīmigon daor skoros vestrā!" cried Rhysaenya, smacking her arms to try and get her off. (T: She has seized your brain, you don't know what you're saying!)

Kaelena threw her to the floor, tapping a charm on her wrist. Two spears flew out of one of the upstairs windows, landing in her hands. She threw one onto Rhysaenya before she could recover, slamming into her chest and knocking the wind out of her. "Ossēninna ao," said Kaelena in a sing-song voice. "Ao daor ērinagon." (T: I will kill you. You cannot win.)

She forced herself to her feet just as her mother lunged at her, whirling the spear so fast, she nearly knocked Rhysaenya's head clean off. She managed to cut her off, holding her spear tight in both hands and using its force against the other spear to knock her aside, spinning it over her head and knocking it against her mother's side, twisting the other end to hit her up against her chin, throwing her to the floor.

"Āpuȳ āmed nūsā!" Rhysaenya insisted as her mother came at her again, sneering and fighting like a rabid dog. Whatever The Watcher was making her see or believe, all she seemed to be capable of was killing. Even her own daughter. "Īllē qērod nūsā ūquē stēr. Ōñ dēj īpsā trūpr cōlū āst fūgrō ūtȳ." (T: Papa loved us! He wanted us to live. Don't let her steal that from you.)

Kaelena charged with all her strength. Rhysaenya managed to block what would've been a fatal hit to her throat, but failed to capture her mother's hand before it could reach into her belt and draw a knife that she slashed over Rhysaenya's abdomen.

Pain wasn't an option. Ignoring the burning she felt, right over where her many circles had been made to mark her kills, she took advantage of her mother's weakened hold on the spear to drag it back the way it came, cutting into Kaelena's cheek.

"Konīr issa," crooned Kaelena, wiping the blood away and dragging her finger over her tongue as Rhysaenya clamped her hands onto her side, forcing the fire within to the wound to cauterize it quickly. "Se zaldrīzes iemnȳ. Gaomagon ao jaelagon naejot vīlībagon hae iā zaldrīzes, byka mēre?" (T: There it is. The dragon within. Do you wish to fight like a dragon, little one?)

Rhysaenya leapt back as Kaelena began to transform, much larger than Rhysaenya remembered her. It was then that she realized Hope had been on the right track with her theory about dragon growth by consuming blood. The Watcher had been keeping an eye on them, she probably tried it herself and it worked.

She'd seen drawings replicated by her grandfather, depicting what Aegon, Visenya, and Rhaenys, had looked like beside their winged beasts. All three seemed like ants compared to Balerion, Vhagar, and Meraxes. From the sketch, it had seemed like Aegon was barely the size of one of Balerion's claws. It was certainly how Rhysaenya felt, panic rising inside. If her mother was the size of Balerion the Black Dread and if her parents had been right about her matching up in size to Meleys, then she didn't stand a chance. Meleys wasn't significantly bigger than Quicksilver, and Balerion had killed him with ease.

Today might be the day she died. Today might be the day she saw her father again.

She prayed that the few days of drinking blood and eating raw meat at Hope's request had amounted to something.

She shifted just as her mother lifted herself into the sky, snarling and circling, a blast of fire landing right where they'd parked their car. They sure as hell wouldn't be getting back the same way they came.

Rhysaenya shot into the sky, lifting herself to the same height as her mother, heart skipping in relief when she realized they weren't different enough to dictate an immediate loss for her. It was going to cut it close, without question, but it wasn't impossible. She was younger and faster. If Caraxes and Daemon Targaryen had managed to defeat Vhagar and Aemond, she could win here. She had to.

Her mother made the first move, blowing fire right at her, forcing her to dart away, rounding up behind her and slamming her hind legs into her mother's back, clawing at her wings to try and limit her ability to fly. Kaelena roared, throwing herself back and sending herself crashing to the ground with the intention of crushing Rhysaenya under her.

She let go at the last second, slipping away while her mother fell full force onto the pavement, a cloud of dust rising along with chunks of asphalt and pieces of cars. It was only then that Rhysaenya realized that humans could and would see them. They might even kill a few in the process.

She could hear screams and loud crashes from within the building; she had no idea who was winning this battle. If The Watcher emerged victorious and exerted control over Rhysaenya the way she did Kaelena, she could order them to burn everything in the United States.

That's when it occurred to her that The Watcher might be inside her mother at this very moment. Could she be in two places at once? She didn't think it would be wise to dismiss it as a possibility.

She was never going to be able to make herself kill her mother. There was no chance in hell she'd do it. Even less if there was a chance The Watcher could use the death to gain control of her body. If she were made to kill her own friends...

Dragons didn't have a humanity switch to shove The Watcher out. And Rhysaenya without her humanity sounded like a terrible idea.

Her mother recovered, burst out of the cloud of dust with her jaws open and ready to lock onto whatever it could catch. Rhysaenya barely darted out of the way, avoiding a bite to the neck. She kicked out, rising higher and daring her mother to follow, attempting to lure her away from the building. Maybe there was only a certain distance The Watcher could control her. Maybe Hope would occupy her more in the coming minutes and lessen her ability to maintain the spell on Kaelena simultaneously.

She knew there had to be a spell. Her mother would never align with a woman like this. She wouldn't attack her own daughter.

If she could get the real Kaelena out, she could end this without need for bloodshed.

She flew as fast as she could, heading toward a body of water ahead, listening to the screams of the humans below as Kaelena pursued, roaring and spitting fire ahead, which kept missing and instead was returning to her own face, slowing her down. They'd nearly hit a plane at one point, and might've killed a load of passengers if Rhysaenya hadn't whirled around as fast as possible, barreling into her mother and knocking the two of them directly down.

All anyone could see was two blurs of red, hard to distinguish from each other. There were snarls and jets of fire being shot out between them, claws and wings creating what sounded like explosions as their massive bodies collided again and again, Rhysaenya only trying to wound her as minimally as possible to save her own life while Kaelena tried to deal mortal blows.

She managed to lodge a claw in

"You do have a weakness," Alaric had told her. "Specifically in your throat. Being stabbed there is lethal."

"Well," she'd replied, "I can see how that might happen in human form but in my dragon form, that sounds ridiculous."

"Have you ever seen one of your kind die?"

"No."

"Then we can't be sure but the books say even as a dragon you are vulnerable. An injury there would force you back into your human form, already weak, and chances are you'd break bones in the fall. Anyone who wanted to hurt you would be able to do it much easier at that point."

Time to test if that theory was true.

If she stopped shielding herself and started focusing on trying to cause injury to her mother's throat, she might manage to force her back into her human form. It had to work. It had to.

She saw her opening as Kaelena was leaning her head back, having kicked Rhysaenya in the belly, claws digging in and preparing herself for what was sure to be the last injury Rhysaenya herself could handle before she had to retreat as a human. She let Kaelena lean in, turning her head at the last second and biting into her mother's neck, eliciting a screech that seemed to create a burst of air around them.

Kaelena wasn't forced back into her human form immediately. She began to fall, pulling Rhysaenya with her, dragging her claw down her belly and ripping it open just as the two beasts crashed into Lake Lasseter, the water bursting onto shore in large waves that drenched everything around it.

Their weight dragged them to the bottom of the lake, the two shifting back right as they felt a build of pressure in their heads from the crash. Rhysaenya felt Kaelena let go, but her body began to sink. The girl wrapped her arms around her mother's shoulder's, kicking as hard as she could to get them back to the surface.

She didn't think she was going to make it.

Rhysaenya cried out in agony, pressing her mother's body to her abdomen in an attempt to cover the gash left behind. With the same arm she was using to hold on, she tried to plug the bite in her mother's neck, other hand propelling them to shore. Her vision was blurring, all she felt was her mother's body becoming heavier. She could hardly lift her, could hardly see where they could exit the lake up ahead...

She felt her feet touch ground, yelling out as she hoisted her mother up, stumbling through the shallow water and letting Kaelena fall beside her, barely conscious.

"Āmeȳ," said Rhysaenya, pressing on her chest and stomach, forcing out the water she'd swallowed. She pumped her hand as hard as she could, given her own blood seemed to leak out of the wound faster as she did it. Would they both die right there?

"Rūs," rasped Kaelena, looking around wildly as her eyes opened. "Byka mēre, skoriot issi ao?" (T: Baby. Little one, where are you?)

"Kesīr, muña," said Rhysaenya, reaching for her hand. (T: Here, Mother.) She leaned forward to put pressure on her wound, unsure if she was strong enough to cauterize this on her own. Still, she had to try.

She muffled a scream into her mother's shoulder, sobbing in discomfort as she felt the fire burning at her flesh until at last it seemed to create a protective layer that stopped the bleeding. She knew it hadn't healed her as easily as the cut before. This was deeper. The bleeding was inside, too, and she didn't know how to stop that. It was only a temporary fix. She needed vampire blood. She needed hope.

"Rȳsēña," muttered Kaelena, confused. "Ōñtazī?" (T: Rhysaenya? Where am I?)

"Cōñme, Āmeȳ," whispered Rhysaenya, kissing her forehead. (T: With me, Mama.) She used her damp sleeve to try and clean the wound on her throat, which wasn't getting better. She smiled weakly, "Ñuha raqirossa kostagon giēñagon ao. Istiti jiōragon arlī. Se ōdrio kessa daor–" (T: My friends can heal you. We must get back. The wound will not–)

Kaelena shook her head, beginning to cough. "Keligon, dārilaros, rȳbagon naejot nyke. Kesan morghūljagon. Ziry vēttan ziry sīr." She began to cry, staring up at the sky. "Nyke qringaomatan ñuha gaomilaksir. Nyke gōntan daor ossēnagon ao. Ziry vēttan ziry sīr..." (T: Stop, princess, listen to me. I will die. She made it so. I failed my duty. I did not kill you. She made it so...)

"Kesan daor gūrogon bona hae iā udligon!" (T: I will not take that as an answer!)

Kaelena cupped her face weakly. "Issa drēje, ñuha byka mēre. Rȳbagon. Istia mīsagon aōha raqiros. Ossēnagon Se Urnēbagon. Glaesagon. Ao glaesis. Iksan sīr vaoreznuni..." (T: It is true, my little one. Listen. You must protect your friend. Kill The Watcher. Live. You must live. I am so sorry...)

Rhysaenya hiccuped, wiping her eyes quickly. "Daor, muña, ao gōntan daorun pirta. Avy jorrāelan. Avy jorrāelan sīr olvie. Umbagon lēda nyke. Umbagon, kostilus, Āmeȳ..." (T: No, Mother, you did nothing wrong. I love you. I love you so much. Stay with me. Stay, please, Mother.)

The woman sobbed, weak wheezes between her shaky breaths. "Avy jorrāelan, rūs. Gaomagon daor ivestragī zirȳla ossēnagon aōha raqirossa. Ao jorrāelagon zirȳ. Eman urnēbagon... eman ūndegīon skorkydoso biare iksā. Kesi rhaenagon arlī. Jikagon. Ossēnagon zirȳla. Mōris bisa. Kostilus!" She smiled, eyelids fluttering. "Nyke ūndegon zirȳla... nyke ūndegon aōha kepa." (T: I love you, baby. Do not let her kill your friends. You need them. I have watched... I have seen how happy you are. We will meet again. Go. Kill her. End this. Kostilus! I see him... I see your father.)She reached out, "Rhȳs... Rhȳs... Rhȳs."

She bit her lip hard, closing her mother's eyes when she went still. She kissed her forehead once more, whispering, "Ēoc pāz, pōssum ūtȳ dījimittē cōlū īst tēr. Ēoc ām, pōssum ūtȳ ēoñventrire ēl sīc. Lā ūtȳ pātȳa ēsthoc gēȳñ, lā ūtȳ pāz ēsthoc ēoñventrire." (T: In peace may you leave this land. In love, may you find the next. Your battle is won, your peace is found.)

She flew back to Fort Valley as fast as she could, holding her mother's body gently in her mouth. She landed right outside the flaming parking lot, setting her down by the entrance and shifting back, just in time to run in and find that the battle still raged on.

Rebekah, Marcel, and Kol were nearly finished with the last of the vampires and wolves. Keelin was performing CPR on Josie while Finch. Freya, Vincent, and Cleo were tackling a group of witches together. Jed, Lizzie, MG, and Kaleb were all laying dead on the floor but were not staked and still had their hearts in them, which let Rhysaenya know that they were merely taking a nap, their necks and backs probably broken in the battle. In the center were Ryan, Hope, and The Watcher.

Right as Rhysaenya finished processing her surroundings, The Watcher flicked her hand, breaking Ryan's neck.

"There you are," said The Watcher as Rhysaenya trudged toward her, body still wet and covered in blood, muscles tense and a murderous expression on her face. (A/N: Picture the way Jon looks at the end of the Battle of the Bastards, immediately after Ramsay says 'you suggested one-on-one combat, didn't you?')

"Here I am," said Rhysaenya darkly, seeing that Hope's jacket was torn, with bulged red veins near what looked like a papercut.

She'd been scratched by red oak.

"Not the one I expected to come back from that battle," said The Watcher. "Your mother wasn't as strong as I thought her to be. So ends the Targaryen dynasty."

Her words filled her with a rage she'd never felt before. The Watcher had turned back to Hope as Rhysaenya's eyes lit up with fire, using the distraction to fling the red oak toward her, aimed right at her heart.

Rhysaenya threw herself in front of Hope, the stake lodging into her chest. Hope leapt back, stunned, watching as Rhysaenya ripped the stake out, steam flowing out of her nostrils as she panted, healing the wound as best as she could.

"Missed," she said softly.

She flung the stake back at The Watcher, who caught it magically before it could hit her in the throat, her other hand occupied stopping Rhysaenya's fire as it blew right at her face. Hope threw the enchanted knife at the same time, emerging from the fire before The Watcher could prepare herself. It embedded itself in the witch's heart, terminating her spell and letting the fire swallow her whole.

"Rhysaenya!" cried Hope as the dragon collapsed. "Oh my god– stay with me. Stay with me!"

She bit into her wrist, making her drink her blood. Lizzie was the first of the temporarily-dead vampires to spring up, speeding toward them and siphoning from Hope's wound to heal her infection, then rushing back to Josie, who sat up just as Kol finished off the last of the fighters.

It was over.

-

Hope handled the aftermath.

She copied the spell that The Watcher claimed to have done on Aegon, Visenya, and Rhaenys, undoing the damage of the exposure of the Salvatore School as well as what had been witnessed by the residents of Georgia when they saw two dragons fighting in the sky. Everyone would forget. Kol, Rebekah, and Marcel would handle planting a new story to keep any curious humans away from the school.

Her second spell brought Alaric out of his coma and into the arms of his daughters. Her Aunt Freya had advised her against trying to bring back Sebastian, Raf, and Sheriff Machado. It risked opening doors that would bring others they'd just sent to their graves crawling back. No one wanted a rematch against The Watcher and her forces. Some decisions, they'd have to live with.

"Thanks for joining me," said Hope softly, seated at the edge of the lake with Rhysaenya. She ran her hands over the urn in her lap, containing Klaus Mikaelson's ashes.

"Of course," whispered Rhysaenya, lifting her own urn that carried the remains of Kaelena Targaryen. "Always. I assume your aunts and uncles are still trying to decide where to lay your Uncle Elijah to rest?"

"Yeah... I think it should be here, too. He was the first of them to be born in the New World. And though he loved Manosque, I think he'd want to be with my father. This part, though, I just... needed to do it alone. He loved New Orleans, but his home was Mystic Falls, first, and he built a school for me here. I needed this moment to... have my peace."

Rhysaenya beckoned her to stand. "You go first."

Hope drew a deep breath, clutching the urn tight to her chest, then extending it out. She sniffled, turning to Rhysaenya. "Marcel told me that when my father held me for the first time, he held me just like this. Not so close to him, as if he was afraid to hurt me, afraid that clutching me to his chest would make it real. He got less than a few hours with me before I had to leave. We were reunited many months later and had a bit more time. Maybe a full year. I didn't get much time before we had to leave again, and when we came back I was too big for him to hold me that way. Another few months... then separated again. I can still remember the last time we hugged, touching foreheads. Saying goodbye. And I'm afraid that if I release these ashes, it'll be the last time I'm able to hold him at all."

"You don't have to let them go," whispered Rhysaenya. "You can keep the urn with you. Releasing the ashes doesn't mean letting him go forever. You can still process it and say your goodbyes while keeping him close. It's your choice, Hope, no one gets to take that away from you."

She nodded, making a decision. "I want to. I need to." She looked up at the clouds. "This place is special to me. It's where I come to think. Cry when I need to. I don't know if you'd think this place is special, too, but I want to believe you'll be at peace where I am." She opened the lid, whispering a spell and letting the ashes sparkle over the water for a moment before they were gone. "I love you, Dad. And I love you, too, Mom..." she held onto her necklaces, smiling. "I know he's at peace now. So make sure you two give each other a hug for me. We'll meet again, one day. In the meantime, I'll be here. I will live, because I know it's what you'd want me to do. I miss you guys. More than you know."

Rhysaenya joined her, opening the lid of her mother's urn and letting Hope guide the ashes behind Klaus's. "Go with our ancestors," Rhysaenya whispered. "I'll join you one day."

They both set the urns down, facing each other, hands linked. "Did you mean it?" whispered Hope, thumb brushing over Rhysaenya's palm. "When you said you loved me?"

"I did," said Rhysaenya quietly. "I do."

Hope blushed. "Rhysaenya... I love you, too."

She smiled, kissing her hands. "Hope, I don't know what the future holds. I don't know if I will go to college, I don't know if a machine shop is where I'll be for the rest of my days. It doesn't matter, because the only thing I am sure of is that my future has a spot for you in it. I want to go into the unknown with you. I want to explore this world the way we have been doing from the moment you brought me here and decided I was worth listening to. I love you, Hope Mikaelson. Sērȳz ȳ Āetño." (T: Always and Forever.)

She leaned forward, brushing her nose against Hope's. The tribrid tilted her head up, kissing her gently, drawing away to whisper against Rhysaenya's lips, "Ētm qūbtul Ñāȳ ūquē Ārquea. Sīmt ūñ Perzys Āeterña." (T: We were Born to Burn. Like an Eternal Flame.)

_

A/N: Keep reading for the Final Author's Note!