— DRAGONSTONE, 108 AC

⠀⠀⠀⠀The history books report the island of Dragonstone was settled two centuries before the Doom. Valaryians had defeated local lords of the Narrow Sea and established it as the westernmost outpost of the Freehold. The castle was said to be crafted with blood magic and dragon fire, the same as the rest of the ancient city. It only became the ancestral seat of House Targaryen when Daenys the Dreamer foretold the volcanic extinction, and Aenar relocated his family and their five dragons; their rivals viewed their fleet as cowardice but wished they had joined them twelve years later. That is how the Targaryens became the only surviving dragonlords.

⠀⠀⠀⠀Princess Vaerya knew her family's histories by heart, as did each Targaryen babe born after Aegon the Conqueror. She should have found it a consolation to reside in Dragonstone during her pregnancy. To bring her child into the world inside the home of the dragon was the highest of honors, while others were birthed among ordinary men in Kings Landing. How many could say they were born where their ancestors had first decided to unite the Seven Kingdoms? None but those with the blood of the dragon. And yet, she did not find any pride in staying in a place of such history and importance. No, she felt plagued.

⠀⠀⠀⠀The island itself was a rather lonely place. It was isolated by the sea on all sides, though Driftmark was a short flight west and a few lesser houses resided on the small islands surrounding the larger. Besides the few servants and armed men who ran the fortress, the only company around was either the smallfolk of the tiny fishing village or the wild dragons seen swooping through the sky.

⠀⠀⠀⠀The girl, recently turned ten-and-seven, had grown quite restless with the confinement. She had been amiable until the maesters warned her against taking to the sky on Xadras out of fear for the child coming along in her stomach. Now, left with nothing to do but visit the library and walk the sandy shores, she was ready to pull the child from between her legs. She would gladly do so by herself if given permission from her caretakers. Seven Hells, she might do so without their consent at this point. This was a stark contrast to her earlier feelings. For months, she had wished for the babe to remain inside her forever out of fear of failing at motherhood.

⠀⠀⠀⠀Ser Erock Stark constantly assured the princess she would be a great mother. He told her stories of how his own fell into the role naturally after giving birth to his elder brother. Ser Harwin Strong, the newest addition to her entourage, reminded her that there would be maids and nurses abound to aid in the rearing of her child. He even offered to personally attend to her needs during such a time. Lady Nymeria Martell was the most immense relief, spending countless hours with her darling princess, whispering sweet nothings in her ear and massaging her tender breasts. She swore the girl was even more beautiful with the glow of pregnancy.

⠀⠀⠀⠀It was Drack Martell, Nymeria's brother and protector, who found the expecting mother on the beach. She stood barefoot at the edge of the shore, letting the waters of the Narrow Sea lap at her bare skin. He leisurely strolled towards her, only having sought her out to ask his sister's whereabouts. The two were acquaintances at best; he had been a stipulation of his sister's tenure at court.

⠀⠀⠀⠀As usual, since her marriage, she had a distant gaze in her eyes. When she turned to address the man, she looked through him instead of at him. Even though their gazes met, he knew with certainty she was elsewhere. She seemed to sway back and forth ever so slightly in rhythm with the receding waves. He thought of her in comparison to a sapling in a storm—young and unsteady but oh so resilient.

⠀⠀⠀⠀Drack took notice of the darkness of her dress under her swollen belly. The fabric appeared wet. He immediately understood: this was not a consequence of the sea; her water had broken. He rushed to close the distance. "Princess, we must alert the maesters. The baby is coming," he said in an even tone, not wanting to startle her. She remained unphased by his declaration and maintained the same mute expression.

⠀⠀⠀⠀"Drack, I fear I am not fit to be a mother," she told him.

⠀⠀⠀⠀"I believe no person is truly ready to be a parent until they finally are one," he replied. He placed his calloused hand on her forearm in an attempt to gauge what her reaction might be to his next course of action. "Come on, Princess." He elicited a small grunt as he picked her up bridal style. He did so as gently as possible, but her unwillingness to move nor the additional weight of pregnancy did not help.

⠀⠀⠀⠀"Madwen will never be fit to be a father."

⠀⠀⠀⠀"No, he will not," Drack affirmed. "But you have an entire army of people ready to raise this child with you."

⠀⠀⠀⠀Vaerya's fears of motherhood melted away as soon as she held the newborn. She looked upon the little boy in her arms and saw the whole world, her whole world. She immediately knew by the way his head snuggled into her chest that he would be the best parts of his mother and the best parts of his father. He would be a dragon made of ice or a wolf made of fire. She looked over at Erock and saw her feelings reflected in his cerulean irises. She saw herself and the child in them, too; they were his whole world.

⠀⠀⠀⠀Nymeria floated nearby. She was close enough to touch them but far enough to give the new parents space. The mother motioned for her to join them with a weak hand. She gladly did, taking a seat on the foot of the recently cleaned birthing bed. She took notice of the spotless white silks that had been drenched with sweat and blood moments before.

⠀⠀⠀⠀"What will you name him, Princess?" Nymeria questioned, admiring the radiant royal. The girl's silver-white hair still stuck to her forehead, but her lavender eyes shined brightly. She reminded the Dornish woman of the tales of forest nymphs told in childhood. Vaerya had always been coated in magic, having an air of mysticality surrounding her.

⠀⠀⠀⠀"Virion," she hummed softly.

⠀⠀⠀⠀Ser Harwin Strong stepped into the room, an apologetic look on his features. "My Grace, Prince Madwen." He announced the man who waltzed leisurely into the room. Her husband always carried himself with an air of false superiority. He nonchalantly approached the bed as if his wife had not spent the past few hours in labor. He had heard the girl's cries in which she repeatedly said she could not be a mother, but he had ignored them. The birthing did not interest him. It was his heir that did.

⠀⠀⠀⠀"A boy," Madwen dryly cheered, though his excitement was not authentic. Everyone knew he only cared about furthering the Hightower bloodline, not the child itself. He reached down and stole the newborn from Vaerya's arms. The two others next to her tensed at his actions. The man held the babe at arm's length in front of him, inspecting the boy as if he was a piece of meat to be roasted. "We shall name him Arwyn."

⠀⠀⠀⠀"The babe already has a name," Nymeria curtly informed him. Her tone was clipped as she attempted to hold her tongue. The man's temper had been shorter than usual as of late, and he currently held the most precious thing in the Realm.

⠀⠀⠀⠀"I don't remember asking you, Nymeria," he said dismissively. He still eyed the baby, shifting the tiny body in his hands like the boy was nothing more than a bag of coins. "What is your proposed name, my wife?"

⠀⠀⠀⠀Vaerya observed the tick in Madwen's jaw and the high arch of his right eyebrow. He was testing her. One wrong word would have dire consequences. She could take whatever punishment he doled out to her, but the defenseless babe in his grip could not. She had vowed to be the boy's protection, but there was physically nothing she could do to provide it at the moment. Her body was too exhausted from the toll of childbirth to move.

⠀⠀⠀⠀She focused on Virion, the being she had grown inside of her. She had promised to do anything for him before he was born. He was the child she longed for with the man she loved; by having Erock's child, she was not reduced to a royal womb against her will.Marrying the violent man and pliably going along with the motions of producing an heir for him allowed her to keep Virion safe and bring him into existence. She had spent nine months devoted to him, and he was not yet a day old. Vaerya would be damned if she allowed Madwen to take this happiness from her as he had attempted to take everything else.

⠀⠀⠀⠀"Arwyn is a fine name, husband." She was lying, of course. She would continue to call him Virion in secret. He was to be a dragonrider with the blood of Old Valaryia in his veins and deserved the name of such, not the name of a nobody from Oldtown.

⠀⠀⠀⠀The false father smirked victoriously. "Hear that, Nymeria?" His face quickly contorted into agitation as the baby began to cry. The boy was finally disturbed by how his supposed father was holding him. Madwen turned and rid himself of the child by handing him off to Harwin, who had naturally gravitated closer when the Hightower took possession of Virion. "Well done, Vaerya."

⠀⠀⠀⠀He wiped his hands on the front of his tunic like he had dirtied himself by holding the kid. "Now that the child has been born, I will return to Kings Landing on the morrow, where I am certain the King needs me." After wedding the princess and gaining the title of prince consort, he had gained an inflated sense of self-importance that fed his ever-growing ego. He consistently misjudged how important he was to the kingdom. However, no one at Dragonstone wanted him to stay, so no protests were made.

⠀⠀⠀⠀Madwen exited the room, and the others were left to collectively sigh. Vaerya happily watched Harwin rock the babe back and forth to provide comfort after being held in such a way. Erock held her hand, and Nymeria ran her fingers through the girl's hair. For the moment, the future seemed bright.

⠀⠀⠀⠀A moon after Virion was born and Vaerya's husband had left for the capital, a welcome surprise arrived on dragonback. Prince Daemon flew from Kings Landing on Caraxes with Lady Laena holding tightly onto his torso. Princess Rhaenyra followed him atop Syrax, wearing a bright smile that never left her lips for as long as she rode. With the arrival of the three surprise visitors, the once dreary halls of Dragonstone were alight with merry laughter that carried throughout the fortress.

⠀⠀⠀⠀The two girls kept the new mother entertained with the latest gossip of the Red Keep. Ser Otto Hightower berated his nephew daily, Rhaenyra whispered. Laenor fell off his horse during training, Laena laughed. The princess nodded and feigned shock when her niece and half-sister told her such things. In reality, such bits of information did not interest her but did well in filling the void of boredom. She may not have cared for the gossip, but she did enjoy the mocking facial expressions and mimicking tones of voice the girls did while telling their often long-winded tales.

⠀⠀⠀⠀The younger girls clung to the older one even more than they had before. It was to be expected, though, for neither had seen her in such a long time. It would not be an understatement to say that for how much they missed Vaerya, they were even more taken with Virion. Just as Vaerya had done when Rhaenyra was born, the pair refused to part from the newest member of their family. They would spend hour upon hour regaling him with tales of Aegon the Conquer and his sister-wives.

⠀⠀⠀⠀Daemon was an entirely different situation altogether. During the duration of his stay, he hardly spoke to his favorite person. His blatant avoidance of her made the princess question if she still maintained that position in his life. He would make small talk during the meals the family took together each evening, but besides that, he said nothing to her. On the sixth day of his visit, when she finally had just enough physical strength, she decided she would have to go to him and force him to speak to her.

⠀⠀⠀⠀She found him in the hollowed caverns of the Dragonmont, where the winged creatures tended to make their home during their time at Dragonstone. He stood before Caraxes with his head resting against the mount's large snout. She heard him mumbling words in High Valaryian but was too far to decipher their meaning. The blood wyrm naturally noticed her first and made a soft clicking noise as she neared. Such a noise was not one to be alarmed of. It meant he recognized her and readily welcomed her presence. He viewed the woman as no threat to his rider.

⠀⠀⠀⠀"You have been avoiding me, Daemon," she said.

⠀⠀⠀⠀He slightly cringed at her use of his name. The two rarely called each other by their given names, always having preferred the intimacy of nicknames instead. "I did not wish to ruin your perfect famjly," he replied.

⠀⠀⠀⠀The princess stopped in her tracks. He knew Erock was Virion's actual father. Of course, he did. He knew her so well that she often believed he was more familiar with her than she was herself. He was so antiquated with her that she did not know where she ended and he began. This was a consequence of spending so much of her childhood chasing after him and divulging all her thoughts anytime he would listen.

⠀⠀⠀⠀"You would not ruin it, brother. You are a part of it," she told him. "I wish you to be in Virion's life."

⠀⠀⠀⠀"I will be," Daemon assured her. He switched to the Common Tongue as he was too upset to continue in their private one. It was another thing that connected them, and right now, he wanted nothing more than to be separated from her in all possible ways. It hurt him too much to be otherwise. A certain kind of incurable pain comes with wanting someone you cannot have. "It just will not be how I wished it."

⠀⠀⠀⠀She closed the distance between them. While he wished to be far away, she longed for the opposite. It had been too long since she had seen him, been near him, and experienced life with him. "What do you mean?"

⠀⠀⠀⠀Her fingers rested on his shoulder, and the gesture caused him more despair. He could have had this life. He could have had her. But because of their brother's stupidity, she had been left to marry a madman and father the child of a man below her station. Neither deserved her. In truth, to him, no one deserved Vaerya except Daemon. "We both know I should be Virion's father."

⠀⠀⠀⠀"Would it be selfish of me to ask you to love him as such?" Vaerya whispered, her fingers moving from his shoulder to the side of his throat. While doing so, she easily maneuvered between Daemon and Caraxes, so he was forced to make eye contact with her. She wanted him to realize how much the request meant to her. "My child will need as many protectors as possible against Madwen. I am begging you to be one."

⠀⠀⠀⠀The man visibly softened after witnessing the desperation in her amethyst irises and hearing the weakness in her voice. Despite having the Stark and Strong at her beck and call, she needed him—she would always need him. "Never beg for anything ever again," he answered, his tone firm but gentle. "You are Vaerya Targaryen, the blood of the dragon. We do not beg; we take. And if we cannot have it, we reduce it to ash."

⠀⠀⠀⠀"Are you going to reduce me to ash?"

⠀⠀⠀⠀"No, sweet Vaerya," he replied with utmost seriousness. He bent his neck, so his forehead rested against her own. "For one day, I will have you."

⠀⠀⠀⠀She could not think of an appropriate response that expressed the complexity of her feelings. She certainly wanted him just as he did her, but she also knew the king would never allow them to be together. She was also currently married and in love with her sworn sword and her lady-in-waiting; the three had a special relationship that would seem queer to some but was perfect for them.

⠀⠀⠀⠀The problem with Vaerya Targaryen was when she loved someone, she loved them with her entire being. She always wished to possess them in ways no one else ever would. She yearned to hold a spot in their life that no one else ever could. She was trying so hard to obtain genuine love in every place she could, in every person possible. This was to be one of her faults.

⠀⠀⠀⠀This was one reason, besides biological instinct, that the princess was immediately taken with her baby. There would only ever be one person who nourished him for nine months, who sacrificed parts of herself to help him grow. The Seven Kingdoms were sure to love their newest prince when he was publicly introduced to them, but it would be her who had worshipped him long before anyone else. When he grew older, he would know how much his mother loved him, and he would love her too.

⠀⠀⠀⠀Daemon's eyes glanced down at Vaerya's lips for a split second, but he immediately pushed the urge to kiss her out of his mind. The situation at present was too complicated. Only once Madwen and Erock and Nymeria were out of the picture—because they would be sooner than late, he would make sure of it—he would kiss her. He would show her what it was like to be loved by a dragon and affirm that only a dragon could properly love another dragon.

⠀⠀⠀⠀"When was the last time you took to the sky?" He questioned, placing a piece of platinum hair behind her ear. Even though he could not be the only person she loved at that moment, he could be the only person to dance in the sky with her. No human bond could compare to that of Targaryen's that flew together.