«I don't have much time anymore, so let it be the finish. The last chapter, the last lesson. I wanted to write something inspiring. Be not the rose, but its thorns. Or something along that. But... No. Let me say one thing, and you promise to recognise it by heart.

Fuck them. Fuck all of them.»

— From Drusilla Tyrell's memoirs.

•

'I am so sorry... I am so terribly sorry. I... I swear to God, you were the last person that should have died. Truly. You saved me. In more way than one. You saved me, and despite everything, you were kind to me. Thank you. And....I am sorry, that I killed you. I am so, so, sorry.'

Apologies leave the dry lips, being caught by the wind, raising them in air, hitting the gravestone.

Irellea, it is written on it.

'...Do you expect me to say this?' A little laugh escape the woman as she shakes her head. 'Oh, falling off the window, absolutely helpless, body smashing in the street made of stone, blood and mess everywhere. Must have been a terrible picture for your brother. Not exactly how I intended you to die.'

Drusilla hums, swiping dust off the stone. There is a smile on her face as she continues:

'If anyone should be grateful, it is you, sweet Silla-Silla. I saved you by pushing down. What would you become if not me? Dumb, idiotic wife of no less dumb lord, who would chain you to the little castle, leaving to squeeze babies out of you until you die. That is what you wanted to have? Well, suck it up. I made your life better. I made your life just great.'

Truly, she had never felt aggression or hatred towards her mistress; Drusilla, for her own good, was just an average kid. Lazy, infant, finding beautiful in anything. She didn't know what evil meant, and if she somehow survived the fall, she would probably forgive her for that, or think that it was the accident.

But, well... She didn't survive.

Gladly.

'Thanks to me, your name would be in history. Thanks to me, your birth actually has some meaning.' Drusilla spit on the grave, raising at her feet, closing her eyes; such a sharp movement making her sway unsurely. 'Rest well, dear friend. Shall we never met again.'

Drusilla fixes her dress.

At her thirty-seven—thirty-nine, technically, but it doesn't matter now—she hardly looks healthy. Always petite, bones showing through transparent skin, she got worse after giving the birth to two amazing kids. Her underweight and some incompletely healed injuries—final gift from Irellea—showing throughout her pregnancy. And her hips are too narrow, the pain making her regularly pass out, during the childbirth.

Not kids anymore, they decided with Aemond. But the fatal harm was already done.

It had been sixteen years after giving birth to their second kid, their son, and Drusilla can say she doesn't have much time left. Gladly, Aemond's reign is finishing this week, Aegon the Third taking the crown to himself soon. She will be at peace, knowing that.

'Mom, have you finished?'

Drusilla turns around to see her family, waiting for her.

Aemond looks at her, brows slightly raised—with years passing, Drusilla can say he gets more and more similar to his not-so-favourite uncle Daemon, bless his soul, whatever he rests now—still oblivious with reasons why they are here.

Estelle, her firstborn, a mighty girl with round, gentle features of hers, whose white hair could be only taken from her father, violet eyes curiously looking around, stays not so far from her father; always his favourite.

Estelle grew up a stubborn, a little bit spoiled girl. She has her father's arrogance and boldness, always making her rush into arguments with everyone, excluding only some of her favourite friends or family members. But it is her mother's coldness and desire to control everything that helps her to work with others.

And maybe it is something inherited from both, but it is the love, obsessiveness, maybe, with which Estelle follows her cousin, Aegon, around. She doesn't exactly wish to rule, no. What she wishes for is him to rule properly. And she will do anything for that.

It is quite funny, if you think about this. And maybe a little bit scary.

But her determination is meet by Aegon's shy smiles and nods.

So, Drusilla thinks, one day they will be lovers.

'I did,' she sighs, furrowing. 'What is it that makes you so impatient?'

'Nothing, mother. It is quite cold outside, please, take it,' a gentle voice sounds on her right, the fabric of the leather coat falling on her shoulders.

But it is Mael, her son, that always make Drusilla softer.

With Estelle, she doesn't need to hold back in her words. They are alike in some way, so when they speak, they are sincere and harsh in their opinion.

But Mael, the dear son of hers...

Mael took the best sharp features of his father, and yet, the curly dark hair and blue eyes said it all. Silent and observative, Mael rarely speaks, preferring to examine everything and everyone. But when he opens his mouth, his tone is cold, and words are mean to other's ears, even if he doesn't mean it this way; definitely something from Aemond. But it is the same spurious smiles on Mael's face, low laughs making women blush, and smart words that his mother uses on others.

Different, yet so similar; their kids not only take the best from them, but also complement each other perfectly.

Where Estelle needs to smooth down sharp edges, Mael speaks. And when Mael can't ruin his image for someone, Estelle is here.

The stars and moon.

'Thank you,' Drusilla nods, hands gripping the coat.

'I mean... Why do you even decide to spend Saturday on remembering some girl you liked when you were... What? Ten?'

'You don't like Highgardens?' Aemond wonders curiously, lips raising in amused smile as he hears his daughter's theories.

'...Not really.' Estelle shrugs. 'I prefer the King's Landings.'

Aemond, too, prefers it.

Drusilla can't say she what she likes more. King's Landings it where she belongs too, where she is respected and feared, but it is Highgardens that gift her freedom. On these streets she danced and spoke with her people. Here, she was young and beautiful.

'And you, Mael?'

'I don't like the King's Landings, it is pretentious,' he says after a while. 'Maybe, I can live in Highhardens? In the future.'

Drusilla eyes Aemond. Aemond rolls his eye.

'You are such your mother's boy,' he grumbles.

'Says who, father.'

Estelle snickers at her brother's remark. Drusilla masks laugh with cough.

'Highgardens is yours. And I mean it for the both of you. Do whatever you want.' Drusilla finishes.

'I know I am annoying sister, but leaving me? Just not fair,' Estelle folds arms on her chest.

Mael sighs.

'Don't worry, sweetheart,' Aemond soothes her, hands coming to caress her hair. 'We could take Vhagar and visit him on weekends.'

Funnily enough, none of their kids has dragons. Admittedly, Drusilla is glad - she never wanted them to be associated with Targaryens' legacy, but, of course, she gave them a try and opportunity to choose.

Mael was seven when he refused to even try, lips pursed; just like Aemond said, he probably didn't even understand the pros and cons of that decision, simply wishing to please his mom. But Estelle? Oh, how desperately she tried to get one.

None of her eggs ever hatched.

And while the court blamed it on being half the Tyrell, Aemond blamed himself.

'Uncle Augustus said, who comes to say goodbye the first, will get extra money,' Mael suddenly says, for sure trying to catch his sister's attention. 'Bet, you are going to lose.'

Estelle grits her teeth.

'Bet.'

And then, both of them running away, like kids, as if they are not own all money in the world. Drusilla sighs, massaging her temples, when Aemond comes near, laughing quietly.

'Oh, mom misses her best friend so much,' he teases her. 'Seriously, what are we doing here?'

Drusilla ponders slightly before answering.

'That is where my story began,' she says.

And Aemond's smile drops.

She told him, all this week, that her death is soon. She feels it in her bones, and medicine doesn't even help anymore; the medicine that for seventeen years she became addicted too. But Aemond never listens, shutting her down with kisses, and jumping on another topic.

'Let's not start it again.'

She continues.

'Aemond. Women rarely get to live till their forties, and I made that. Even outlived Rhaenyra, and—'

'Are you willing to leave kids alone?'

'They are old enough to bear with my loss, Aemond. Look at them, already planning on the future. I gave them everything I could. There is nothing I can do for them anymore.'

'Fine,' he says, frustrated. 'Are you willing to leave me alone? You promised me forever.'

'I will watch over you, surely, and—'

Aemond lands a desperate kiss on her lips, arms looping around her waist. And that is how Drusilla knows this discussion is ended.

She gives up. It is useless to spend time on this. She doesn't want to bicker with him in her last days.

'We should get back.'

'We should.'

'Or your brother will again be a bad influence, he is.'

Drusilla steps on her husband's leg.

'Don't bring Augustus in it. Your brother tried to teach them how to open a wine bottle with teeth only. When they were six.'

'And yours tried to teach them about sex. When they were ten.'

'And yours—'

•

'They say it is Drusilla Tyrell's death that started the fall of Targaryens, but let me say: it is not truth. Perhaps, princess Helaena was right, and it was Estelle and Mael, who served as a catalyst for everything, yet it was Rhaenyra Targaryen, who died first.

Inspired by giving birth to her daughter, Visenya, Rhaenyra and Daemon planned on another child. But her previous labour already was quite hard, and so, she died, while giving birth to her last child, the second girl to the family. Little Aemma died soon after her mother, never getting to open her eyes.

Everyone mourned, but it is Daemon Targaryen, who suffered the most. He tried his best, but when the war with Dorne started, and three boys of Rhaenyra: Jacaerys, Lucerys, and Joffrey died in the middle of if, he lost it. Daemon Targaryen willingly gave up on his life, spending his last minutes with his dragon, Caraxes.

Viserys the Second, Aegon the Third and Visenya the Second were left on King Aemond and Queen Drusilla's shoulders, ironically. It is surprising, but they truly had tried their best with these kids, though, Maesters say they were the hardest to look for. In her diaries, Drusilla says that it was a quiet hard challenge, to deal with mourning kids, but her husband helped a lot, where she couldn't sympathise.

To that moment, Drusilla's health was already in awful state. They say, she got absolutely addicted to her medicine, never being able to sleep or work without it. In one of her diaries, she notices how funny it is, that the one who saved the addicted kid—she means Aegon the Second—became one.

As the King Aemond's reign finished, the capital witnessed the coronation of Aegon the Third. It was the last ceremony, where Drusilla Tyrell ever participated. After that, she completely lost her powers. She fought for her life fiercely, for two weeks straight, though it was hard for her. Her family was around her all the time.

They say the last words she said before giving the world her last breath was this:

"The deaths I tried to prevent are coming back. And not in the right order."

It didn't make any sense, and she was in fever for too long for anyone to understand what had she meant. But in the retrospective study, she was right.

As it was expected, Aemond Targaryen fell ill not so long after. There was no disease in his body, but in his mind. Though, funnily enough, he often called a woman named Irellea, which makes historians often doubt his love for his wife, but... But we know the truth, don't we?'

'And what happened after? How their death could start such a mess?'

'Oh, well... Left orphans at such a young age, Estelle and Mael Tyrell parted their ways. As it was promised, Estelle became Aegon Targaryen's wife, preferring the King's Landings. And Mael Targaryen took all his mother's legacy and his father's sword Ellaire, leaving to Highgardens, where he were met by Augustus Tyrell, his uncle.

To the note, Augustus Tyrell outlived his little sister of twenty years, dying somewhere in the North. He blamed himself for allowing Drusilla to become the part of Targaryens family till the last breath. He genuinely believed that if not for them, Drusilla would live the happiest.'

'And what about other Targaryens?'

'Otto Hightower passed away long ago, somewhere after Estelle's birth. And Helaena Targaryen, taking her two kids, left after the divorce, never appearing again, not in the second coronation, nor in funerals of anyone. It is not clear what happened to her sons, but we know a little about her daughter.

Daeron Targaryen also left not so long after, but he was the present figure in Drusilla Tyrell's letters and came visiting his niece and nephew most often. But to him, we will return later.

Aegon the Second and Alicent Hightower were the one to be at the castle all this time. And Viserys, Aegon, Visenya and Estelle stayed with them.

I must warn you, but Alicent's mind gone insane quite for some time even before everything. It started with Drusilla's death. But she got cared of, her grandchildren watching over her, until the epidemic didn't come.

The unknown disease fall on all Seven Kingdoms, and crown family wasn't an exception. Her mind gone even worse after suffering from that. But she was still alive.

Something, you can't say about Aegon the Second and Visenya the Second. Both victims to this disease, they passed away soon, leaving behind their family members.

Viserys the Second couldn't bear this. From the very young age, all he was doing it watching his family members dying. He had only one brother left, and he couldn't allow himself to see his death as well. He threw himself out of the window soon after.

So, it made Alicent Hightower, locked in the special care, and Aegon the Third with Estelle Tyrell the only ones, who stayed alive.

After this, Mael Tyrell returned to the King's Landings for a while, tearfully asking his sister to run away from this place. He was sure that Targaryens curse is going to get her as well, but she refused. It was their last meeting.

Overall, Aegon the Third reign was considered to be quite a sombre one. The boy, who witnessed two of his mothers dying—he considered to be Drusilla Tyrell his second mother, no matter how funny it sounded to others—and then, all brothers and sisters, couldn't smile anymore. His wife, Estelle Tyrell, was not in the better state.

Two lonely kids, too scared of repeating their family's faiths. They didn't have dragons, and they never gave birth to any kids, remembering what killed their mothers in the end.

Alicent Hightower died the last, in her bed, whispering something about Drusilla, Aemond and Aegon waiting her here.'

'I don't understand... How Targaryens continued their bloodline, then?'

'Patience, sweet Margaery.

Not so long after Alicent died, the court was gifted by the presence of Daerys the First, Daeron Targaryen's son from the unknown woman. But he didn't return alone, but with his cousin, Jaehaeyra Targaryen. Both of them get married publicly, and that is where Targaryens bloodline starts again.

Estelle and Aegon died in quite old age, though their life seemed to be too pathetic to enjoy it.'

'...And our line continues with Mael Tyrell, right?'

'Indeed. After his last meeting with the sister, Mael Tyrell spent mighty time learning how to rule Highgardens, and trying to understand his mother's legacy. Fifty-five books, diaries and memoirs, that what was Drusilla Tyrell left after herself. But all of them were written in the strangest language. Until one day, at least so Mael wrote in his diary, Daeron Targaryen didn't return to his nephew, teaching it him.

Mael continued his mother legacy as well, all books we have after both of them, were written in this language. He made sure to help us understand how to learn in, how to read these writings. And that is how the story continued for us.'

The little girl hums thoughtfully, dragging knees to her chest. Red hair falls on her little, pretty face, and Olenna leans closer, tucking it behind her ears.

'That means... We are half Targaryens. And not even Tyrell? Irellea wasn't the one.'

'You are focusing on the wrong ideas, Margaery. It doesn't matter, the blood of our ancestors. What matters that we came from Drusilla Tyrell. And she wanted us to win. She hoped we will continue things she started once. That we could be forever free. Do you understand?'

'Yes, I do. You think she would be proud of us?'

Olenna smiles.

She doesn't have a heart to tell that Drusilla Tyrell, this cold woman, will be proud only when they tear apart all others houses, Lannisters and Baratheons left dead and cold.

'Oh, she will be,' she says instead. 'And we need to not let her down.'

A/N: Finish. 

69k words! Much less than in Danse Macabre, but still, it was quite interesting story to write. I guess, not only it shorter, but is less involved in other characters. It is intentionally, actually. This book is about someone, who hardly cares about her relationship with others, and quite unreliable in the most things she writes and thinks about, therefore it is only logical to leave a lot of things behind the curtians, despite me hating this, ah-ha.

A few interesting facts about this story:

- The name of the book is inspired with song Come As You Are of Nirvana. I think, it fits DruAemond very much. And the quote in the description of the book is from Count Monte-Kristo, book in which a former orphan boy comes after many years from revenge, faking his personality :)

- A lot of names there are inspired by Drusilla Livia, historican figure. Drusilla, of course; then, Livia, mother of Drusilla. Augustus is the name of Drusilla's second husband, and Kasia is the name of actress, who played Drusilla Livia in tv series. Lmao. Though, Irellea is non-existent name-

- I originally was thinking about Drusilla/Daeron line, with him the king and her, lying to Aemond, lmao...

- Augustus character really changed from his first concept. In the beginning, he and Drusilla should've had a very toxic and hateful, abusive from both of side, relationship. 

Anyway! Thank you very much for taking this ride with me. And if you are interested in my new story, Out Of Time, it is already published :) But if not, I am thanking all of you for your support. It helps a lot! 

Love you, and fuck them, your loyal starhwl.