𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐒𝐡𝐮𝐭 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐆𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐬,
𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐆𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐆𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐬
_________

___𝔒nce the sun broke through the horizon, the black blanket of the night's sky beginning to shimmer with beautiful colors of dragon-flame orange and the lavender flower's purple, Rhaenaerys Targaryen had awoken from her restful sleep with nothing but her prophetic dream on her mind.

While Daenerys Targaryen had stood from the rough ground and stretched her muscles, that ached from the terrain she slept on, before she walked away to check on the heartbroken Irri and the Khalasar beginning to awaken to the sounds of the birds flying above, the youngest Targaryen had scooted over to her leather satchel, that laid beside the dragons' carriers, and gathered her journal, that held a quill made from a black hawk's feather kept inside of the closed book made from leather, and some ink held within a small-glass made bottle. Those three things were objects the Dreamer had always kept by her side ever since a young girl that realized some of her dreams were prophetic dreams.

Before the Targaryen could scooch back towards the rough rock underneath her and her sister's make-shift hut covered with a thick layer of sand, a soft screech drifted through her ears and stole her attention.

Rhaenaerys lifted her head towards the four carriers her satchel rested near, her Targaryen violet eyes meeting with the white dragon's eyes. Rhaellon's eyes were like two oceans of melted amethysts, they were so beautiful and extraordinary to the Targaryen. She felt she could gaze into the dragon's eyes forever and still be amazed by their beauty. The hatchling softly screeched at her mother, bringing her attention out of her thoughts and onto herself again, before flapping her wings, making the young Targaryen softly smile at her request.

"𝑨𝒍𝒓𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕, 𝒎𝒚 𝒔𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈." Rhae spoke gently, like a mother would to her child, before unlatching the leather strings that held the front side of the wooden carrier closed and extending her arm outwards towards her sweet white hatchling. Rhaellon hissed with exhilaration while flapping her wings, before she hopped onto her mother's hand and climbed up her arm to perch upon her shoulder. The white hatchling screeched when she were settled upon her mother's shoulder, before turning her head towards Rhae and nuzzling it against her mother's own, whom softly smiled at the affection she adored receiving.

The young Targaryen, then, took a moment to admire the hatchling upon her shoulder. The dragon's scales had started to become more of a creamy-white than just the pure white she were hatched with. A purple tinge had begun to run down the scales on the baby dragon's back and underneath her neck and tail. Her wings, three times her slender body's size, were also tinted with dark purple scales that glimmered like a gem under the sunlight of the bright sun above. The small horns that had begun to grow along her neck, back, then tail, and around her small head, alongside her small talons, were the color of the snows she had seen in her prophetic dreams. Rhaellon was like a gleaming and beautiful white gem with tinges of purple held within it's depths.

Rhae lifted her hand to gently caress her beautiful hatchling's head, whom leaned into her mother's warm hand with a soft hiss, before she began to scooch towards the rock behind her, when, once again, a screech stole her attention.

The beautiful Targaryen and dragon, then, turned their heads towards the golden hatchling in his carrier, looking upon the two with wide golden eyes as his tiny head peeked through the holes in walls of the wooden carrier he were inside of, resulting in a beautiful smile lifting Rhaenaerys' cracked lips. She knew what her sweet Viserion were asking for, therefore, she sets her leather journal and ink down for the second time and lifts her hands to untie the leather strings keeping his carrier closed, before extending her arm towards the hatchling. Viserion wastes no time as he climbs onto his mother's hand and up her arm to perch on her shoulder, hissing towards his sibling.

Rhae just softly giggles at the adorable, and quite needy, hatchlings, before she takes another moment to admire the other hatchling, as well. The hatchling's once purely golden scales were now fading towards a more creamy shade, almost like his sister's, although his scales were still lightly tinged with gold along his back and underneath his neck and tail, though one would only see it under the glares of the sun. The horns beginning to grow along his neck, back, tail and around his tiny head were a pure-gold shade, while his thin talons resembled those shiny and black daggers the young Targaryen remembered seeing in one of her books as a younger girl, she couldn't remember the name of them, obsidian glass or something. His wings, larger than his thin and slender body, were completely golden in shade. Viserion were a beautiful hatchling, as were all his siblings, as he glimmered underneath the bright sun above.

Rhaenaerys lifts her hand to caress his gleaming head, Viserion nuzzling against her hand, before she, finally, scoots backwards and leans her back against the rock beside the dragons' carriers. The beautiful Targaryen, then, pulls her knees towards her chest as she lets her journal rest upon her legs with her ink-filled bottle sitting beside her thighs. Though before Rhae can dip her quill into the bottle beside her, Viserion climbs down from her shoulder and nestles in the crook of his mother's arm, whom just softly giggles at the sweet hatchling. Rhaellon, though, remains perched upon her mother's shoulder and, curiously, chirps at the leather journal whilst turning her small head and flapping her gleaming wings.

The beautiful Targaryen, then, began to write down the events of the prophetic dream she'd had the night prior in her "Dream Journal", as she calls it. Although, with Viserion curled in the crook of her arm it makes writing a little difficult, but she hadn't the heart to move her sweet hatchling.

Rhaenaerys becomes lost in the thoughts of remembering everything she saw and heard during her prophetic dream the night prior and she doesn't notice the numerous minutes beginning to pass her by, when her twin sister, Daenerys, approaches her and the hatchlings with her.

The eldest Targaryen, with Drogon and Rhaegal perched upon her shoulders, kneels before the carriers laying beside the rock her sister, lost in her thoughts, leans against and lifts her open palm towards the black hatchling. The shimmering dragon lowers his head to sniff at his mother's hand, before he hops onto the smooth palm of her hand with a low hiss. The black hatchling with hints of blood-red colored scales flaps his wings as he hisses while being lowered into the wooden carrier he despised being inside of, and Daenerys softy smiles at the hatchling, "𝑫𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒓𝒚, 𝒔𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒘𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒚 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒍𝒐𝒏𝒈." He screeches towards his mother, whom caresses his small head as he leans into her warm touch, before she closes the carrier, placing Rhaegal within his carrier, as well, whom hops in without much fuss, and lays her hands on her knees as she pushes herself to stand.

Daenerys Targaryen, then, turns towards her twin sister leaning against a rough rock near the dragons' carriers beside her, softly giggling at the deep look of concentration on her young features. Rhaenaerys does not seem to notice her sister walking before her and then sitting beside her, though the other hatchlings notice their other mother.

Viserion screeches as he uncurls himself from his mother's arm, climbing up her arm and hopping onto Daenerys' shoulder, whom softly giggles at the sweet hatchling. She caresses his gleaming head, the baby dragon leaning into her touch, before she turns her head towards her sister, once more, "What was it about?"

Daenerys had noticed the journal resting upon her sister's legs and, instantly, recognized it, therefore, she knew her sister must've had a prophetic dream the night before.

Rhaenaerys glances towards her sister sitting beside her, softly smiling at the sweet hatchling demanding for his mother's attention, "It was about the wolves again, Dany."

The eldest twin turns her head away from the cream-and-gold hatchling on her shoulder and towards her sister beside her, whom keeps her violet eyes upon her journal as her sister asks, "The black wolf?" Rhae lifts her head to look at Daenerys beside her, violet on violet, and nods, before looking towards the bright and faraway horizon before her, lightly shaking her head while furrowing her dark brows as she says, "I don't know why I keep dreaming about that wolf. Normally all of my 'real' dreams are about dragons or, at the very least, things happening on this side of the sea, not in the land of beasts." The youngest Targaryen, then, releases a sharp breath, "It frustrates me to not know why I keep seeing this direwolf, the sigil of House Stark, in my dreams."

Daenerys lays her soft hand upon her sister's shoulder, thumb beginning to soothingly caress her sister's pale and smooth skin, as she speaks in a soft voice, "I wish I knew that, too, Rhae. Perhaps one day you'll find the answers you seek." The youngest softly smiles at her twin, nodding, "I hope so, Dany."

The Targaryen Twins, then, fall into a comfortable silence as the youngest goes back to writing down the last of the events of her latest prophetic dream while the eldest gives her attention to the eager hatchling upon her shoulder.

Minutes later, Rhaenaerys finishes and lays her quill between two blank creamy-white pages of her journal before closing it and laying it beside the ink-filled bottle resting beside her. She, then, takes a moment to caress Rhaellon's shimmering head, whom sweetly chirps as she nuzzles into her mother's touch, before Rhae releases a soft breath as she leans her head against Daenerys' shoulder, the cream-and-gold hatchling having moved to perch upon his mother's other shoulder.

A silence passes over the twins, before the eldest breaks it as she says, "What will we do if we find a way out of the Waste?" And the youngest sighs, before she responds, "If we find a way out of this sand-filled land, we'll need to find a home. Our home, Dany." Daenerys swiftly turns her head to look towards her sister as best she can with Rhaenaerys resting her head of silver hair on her shoulder, "Westeros?"

"It is ours by right.. that is the only place we will ever be safe. Ourselves, our dragons, and our people." The beautiful Targaryen says as she glances towards her and her sister's small Khalasar. All of them resting underneath the cooling shade their make-shift huts provided against the brutal sun above with it's kisses that burnt their tan skin. All of those people gave the Twin Khaleesis of the Great Grass Sea their trust. And the twin Khaleesis promised to protect them, promised their people that their enemies will die screaming, and the Targaryen Twins have every intention to keep that promise. Therefore, Rhaenaerys knew her people would need a place to call home, a place where they would be free from fear, and only one place came to mind when she thought this, Westeros.

The soft chuckle of doubt followed with her sister's sweet voice broke through her fog of thoughts, "I don't think the people or whoever sits as King will be very welcoming of two Targaryens coming to Westeros.. much less the daughters of the Mad King."

   "You're right, Dany. That is why we must take the Iron Throne if we ever want to truly be safe."

"You say it like conquering the Seven Kingdoms will be easy, Rhae." Rhaenaerys softly chuckles, "Oh, not at all, Dany.. but the Conqueror, our ancestor, had his great dragon forge the Iron Throne with his fiery breath. Our ancestors conquered the Seven Kingdoms, they are ours by right, and we must take them back from those who stole it." You do not steal from the dragons, the dragons remember, Rhae thought to herself with a smirk her sister beside her could not see, whom softly nods as she responds, "We do.. but not only for us and our House's name. It seems to me the people of Westeros have never known a good King."

   "So perhaps they need a Queen."

"Queens, Rhae..." Her twin sister is swift to say, whom softly smiles to herself, lifting her head to look at her sister's determined violet eyes, though still keeping it laid upon her shoulder, "... I could never even think to do any of this without you by my side. We conquer Westeros, together."

   "Together."

The Targaryen Twins softly smile at one another, the eldest sweetly kissing the youngest's head before she lays her head upon Rhae's own, whom closes her violet eyes to find peace in the humid atmosphere surrounding herself as the hatchlings, shimmering underneath the sun's glares, begin to softly coo.

❁ 𓃗 ❁

   When the blazing sun had decided to, finally, fall beneath the faraway horizon, the shimmering moon had risen and taken the fire's place in the peek of the black blanket filled with millions of stars that is the night's sky above the Red Waste. Echoes of chirping from crickets were heard from the distance as the few birds that roamed the skies of the Waste had flown back to their nests to rest for the night.

The Targaryen Twins' small Khalasar had begun to rest for the night underneath their make-shift huts, that had become blanketed with a thick layer of sand, whose grains wedged themselves into too many unwelcomed places.

The remaining Blood-Riders walked circles around the make-shift camp of the Khalasar's, keeping watch over the women and children, whilst the Targaryen Twins, themselves, sat underneath their make-shift hut.

A small fire made from few thin twigs and dry leaves, that were swept into the barren land, laid before the beautiful twins and their four hatchlings. A very thin line of smoke emitting from the orange flames, that casted shadows upon the twins' pale features.

Daenerys Targaryen sits with her bare legs curled beside herself as she leans on her hand with Rhaegal perched upon her right shoulder, whom softly hisses and screeches. While her twin leans over to pluck a small piece of meat from the pile that lays between them, before she lowers herself onto her stomach before the other three hatchlings.

The three dragons, eagerly, move closer to their other mother, excited to have her attention as they flap their shimmering wings and softly screech.

With a grin on her lips, Rhaenaerys lays the piece of raw meat before her white dragon, gaining the interest and attention of her sister beside her, whom, slightly, tilts her head as she raises a curious brow and asks, "What are you doing, Rhae?" Though, Rhae does not respond, only looks into her white dragon's amethyst eyes, whom stares right back into her mother's own, and says, "𝑫𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒂𝒓𝒚𝒔."

Rhaellon huffs towards her mother while turning her small head, though, she, then, lowers her head towards the meat laying before her and proceeds to sniff at it before opening her mouth, revealing her gleaming black teeth, and trying to breathe her flames onto the raw meat. Though, only whiffs of smoke come from her snout, but Rhae still smiles at her dragon, "𝑻𝒉𝒂𝒕'𝒔 𝒂𝒍𝒓𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕, 𝒎𝒚 𝒔𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝒚𝒐𝒖'𝒍𝒍 𝒈𝒆𝒕 𝒊𝒕 𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒅𝒂𝒚." The hatchling huffs towards her mother, before standing on her legs and nuzzling her head against her mother's smooth cheek.

Rhaenaerys, then, pushes herself up from laying upon her stomach and leans on her legs, that are curled underneath herself, as she takes a stick from the fire, not even flinching at the heat that would tear the skin from any other being in the world, except her sister and their dragons, and stabs the four pieces of raw meat with it, before laying it above the flames.

Whilst waiting for the raw meat to become charred for the hatchlings, Daenerys asks from where she sits beside her sister, "Why 𝒅𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒂𝒓𝒚𝒔, Rhae?"

"I once read somewhere that our ancestors, you know, back when they had dragons, would speak the Valyrian word, 𝒅𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒂𝒓𝒚𝒔, to command their great dragons to breathe fire. Hopefully one day, our dragons will do the same whenever we say it." Daenerys softly smiles, nodding at her wise sister's words. Rhae lifts the thin stick from above the flames and takes the pieces of meat off of the wood and extends her arm towards her sister, whom takes one of the pieces for the hatchling upon her shoulder.

Rhaegal, eagerly, takes the piece of charred meat from his mother's hand, making her softly giggle, before she takes a moment to admire the beautiful hatchling on her shoulder. The baby dragon's eyes were a beautiful light bronze shade with flecks of black held inside of them, while his smooth scales were fading towards a more jade green rather than the emerald green he were hatched with. The small horns that had begun to grow along his neck, back, tail, and around his small head, were becoming a bronze color, the color just a shade darker than his eyes. His small, yet still sharp, talons were completely ebony black in color, just like Viserion's. Rhaegal were a majestic beast to behold, and the twins were elated to see all of them grow.

Meanwhile, Rhae offers the other hatchlings the remaining pieces of charred meat, whom all eagerly stare at the meat, resulting in a soft smile growing on her lips. Rhaellon flaps her gleaming and purple-tinged wings with enthusiasm as she eyes the piece being lowered towards her, immediately taking the charred meat from her mother's hand. Drogon softly screeches as he, practically, hovers above the ground he were flapping his wings so swiftly as he takes the piece of meat from his mother, whom just giggles at the hungry beast. Viserion, though, patiently, waits for his turn to be offered a piece of charred meat, gently, taking it from his mother's hand when she lowers it towards him, making her soft smile only grow.

The youngest Targaryen, then, takes a small moment to admire the three hatchlings before her. Her white dragon whom glimmered like a white gem with hints of amethyst-purple flecks hidden within it's depths. Her sweet Viserion that glowed like a golden jewel under the kisses of the sun above. And the black hatchling, the wildest of his siblings.

Drogon's scales are ebony black, that glimmered under the rays of the sun and moon, she had noticed, whilst the horns beginning to grow along his neck, back, tail, and around his small head, were red, the shade of fresh blood to be exact. His eyes were smoldering red pits, they reminded the young Targaryen of two pools of blood pouring from an enemy's wound. Fire and Blood, Rhaenaerys thought to herself, my House's words. The Targaryen Twins even heard their small Khalasar whisper that the black hatchling was the Dread come again, and they believed it.

Rhaenaerys lifts her hand to caress the black hatchling's gleaming head, whom softly hisses as he leans into her warm touch, before the beautiful Targaryen lays on her back, staring up at the moon above, she missed the red star that had shone in the sky when the dragons were born. She feels movement beside her, and knows it is her twin, Daenerys, laying beside her, as well.

Seeing their mothers laying down to rest for the night, the cream-and-gold and white hatchlings, Viserion and Rhaellon, walk towards their mother and climb onto Rhaenaerys' stomach. The baby dragons curl upon her belly, keeping close to one another as their heads lay beside one anothers, before falling asleep to the soft rise and fall of Rhae's stomach. While Rhaegal has already curled himself upon his mother's smooth arm, Drogon climbs onto Daenerys' stomach and curls himself, as well, though, he doesn't close his eyes to sleep until he sees that all of his siblings have fallen asleep, themselves. The twins liked to call their black hatchling the Watcher or the Protector, as he were always weary of threats and kept close eyes on his siblings and mothers.

The beautiful Targaryen Twins, then, just find peace in the silence that encompasses them as they stare up at the night's sky and the shimmering moon, listening to the soft purrs from their slumbering dragons and the echoes of the creatures', daring enough to live in the Red Waste, songs, before falling asleep.

❁ 𓃗 ❁

   The glorious, though blazing, sun had just begun it's descent into the lands below, the women and children of the Khalasar resting underneath the make-shift huts as the Blood-Riders stood around the small make-shift camp in between the crevice of two rocky mountains layered with bronze-sand, when a whinnie echoes across the Waste, bouncing off of the crevice.

The Targaryen Twins, whom were just conversing with their loyal Knight, Ser Jorah Mormont, turn towards the sound, noticing a dark figure approaching their camp.

It were a black-furred horse, they both realize when it whinnies again. They also take notice to the rider upon it's back, and they release small breaths of relief when they see it were Kovarro, one of the three Blood-Riders they had sent out to find anything within the Red Waste surrounding them.

The Blood-Rider pulls the reigns back, silently telling the stallion to stop, whom does so with a defiant lift of it's head accompanied by a whinnie, and his Khaleesis soon take notice to the unfamiliar horse he dismounts, therefore, Rhaenaerys speaks in the rough Dothraki tongue, "𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐬𝐞."

Kovarro grins, taking the reigns into his hand, as he pats the strong stallion's neck, "𝐈𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐞 𝐛𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐧. 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐄𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐐𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐡." Rhae only furrows her brows at the mention of this Qarth she were unfamiliar with, "𝐐𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐡?"

Her loyal Blood-Rider, with a proud grin still on his dark features, steps backwards to unhook the three large skins of water that hang from the saddle upon the stallion's back as he informs, "𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐭, 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐚." And with his words sinking in, a spark of desperate hope to protect her people ignites inside of the young Targaryen's violet eyes, "𝐖𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐮𝐬 𝐢𝐧?" Still proudly grinning, turning towards his Khaleesi with the skins of water held within one hand as the other holds the reigns to his new stallion, the Blood-Rider responds, "𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐛𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐌𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐬."

Daenerys Targaryen turns towards the Knight from Westeros standing behind herself and her sister with a look of intense thought on his aged features, as if he knew of Qarth, therefore, the eldest asks, "What do you know of this place?"

   "Only that the desert around their walls is called the Garden of Bones. Every time the Qartheen shut their gates on a traveler, the garden grows."

The Knight's words sparked a feeling of dread within the Targaryen Twins, but the young women both knew that this Qarth is their best, and only, chance to not be swallowed by the sands of the Red Waste, therefore, they command their Khalasar to begin packing for their journey to Qarth.

The dragons' four carriers are settled upon the black stallion's strong back, whilst the remaining two horses are used to carry rolled-up blankets, skins of water and satchels of limited food. Then, once the Khalsar is ready for the journey, they begin to follow behind their twin Khaleesis to this city at the edge of the unforgiving Red Waste.

__________ ❁ 𓃗 ❁ __________

~ Author's Note ~

Chapter three is here, yay!!

And, honestly, I cannot get enough of the twins and their dragons, they're so cute!!! And we had our first Dracarys moment, yay, but no flames.. just yet ◕◡◕  And, yes, I described the dragons' colors as they are in the books instead of the show, mostly, but feel free to imagine them as u'd like!!