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" i will take what is mine,
with fire and blood "

On the 𝟐𝟎ᵗʰ day of the 𝟕ᵗʰ moon of 𝟑𝟕 𝐀𝐂, or more known in the accounts the day Aegon the Conqueror passed unto the next world, the Crownlands trembled beneath the cry of the Black Dread's as the wail echoed across the Seven Kingdoms before the dragon took to the gloomy skies and was last
spotted flying east beyond Volantis.

Tales say the Black Dread flew to the ruins of old Valyria, an old home for the beast. Many believed him dead as numerous years would pass without
any sightings of Balerion the Dread.

It would be in the summer year of 𝟏𝟏𝟑 𝐀𝐂 when a raven would fly to capital of Westeros carrying the news of Lady Rhea Royce's pregnancy. It seemed her husband, the Prince Daemon Targaryen, had finally planted his seed within his Bronze Bitch
on a rather drunken night before he flew off
to war in the Stepstones.

With the quite shocking news, came a roar as
loud and sharp as the breaking of the world, and a winged shadow engulfed the capital in darkness. Balerion the Dread had returned.

And it would be within the depths of the
colossal volcano on the isle of dragonlords, or more commonly referred to as the Dragonmont, where the Black Dread made his nest. And there he would remain until the night the babe in Rhea
Royce's womb came.

On the 𝟐𝟎ᵗʰ day of the 𝟓ᵗʰ moon of 𝟏𝟏𝟑 𝐀𝐂, in the hour of the Blood Moon, said to be unholy and unforgiving, the Spawn of the Rouge Prince came howling into the world as the greatest storm in history struck the Seven Kingdoms. Gargoyles were ripped from stone walls, keeps shook and trembled as if struck by the catapults of war and all the hounds in King's Landing howled through the night.

Not even the Cannibal dared fly that night,
only Balerion the Dread.

It was written, when the babe wailed as she came forth into this tragic world, the Seven Kingdoms trembled as all the dragons roared as one. An omen, dark or light, none knew, only taken gravely.

The looming shadow of the Black Dread hovered above the stone keep, Runestone, until the Lady Rhea Royce brought her newborn daughter out
to the monstrous dragon once the storm faded. And when Balerion's smoldering red pits met the babe's eyes, a bond touched their secret hearts and bound beast and girl together for eternity.

It was recorded by the Dragon Keepers of the Dragonmont that the Black Dread laid a clutch of three eggs, hours before the babe's birth, and flew with them to the Vale, where the mother of the child laid them in her daughter's cradle. Although, there was never any love lost for her husband, Rhea Royce knew of the Valyrian traditions. She knew those eggs were meant for her daughter, therefore, did not think to deny the great beast when Balerion uncurled his talon and presented to her his
clutch once he claimed her child.

𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐫𝐚 𝑩𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒅𝒎𝒐𝒐𝒏 𝐨𝐟 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐬 𝐓𝐚𝐫𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐞𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐑𝐨𝐲𝐜𝐞 was fire made flesh — a dragon born in human skin — wild, uncontrollable, and chaotic. A father's daughter, indeed; not that she knew him. The blood of the dragon ran thick through her veins, fire coursed through her bloodstream but she never burned. Blessed and lavished with the inhumane beauty of the Valyrians; brunette hair streaked with silver strands and deep plum eyes that of her father's. Proven at times to her disadvantage as she were often underestimated, believed weak and incompetent — no matter the Black Dread and four others bound to her — though, the Princess saw it's benifits — the thorn on the rose bush. Gluttonous
for power, just as her father, driven mad
when given it.

In the summer of 𝟏𝟐𝟎 𝐀𝐂, when dear Maelera had only seen her seventh year, she climbed unto the back of Balerion the Dread and flew the sky. The Princess was always wild in her youth — an innocent wildness in that of a child's way — running through the plains and hills encircling Runestone to dance amidst the flowers without a care. Yet, when she returned all giddy, panting with a smile bright as the stars with smudges of smoke painted across her pale cheeks tinted red with exhilaration, the restlessness of the young girl's darkened when she were only met with the grim news of her mother's death — a gruesome and unreasonable death
to have befallen the Lady Rhea.

It was said the Black Dread's cry could be heard beyond the White Waste when Maelera collapsed to her knees at the news on what was supposed to
be such a celebrated day.

Though, young Maela would soon come to learn her mother's death was only the beginning of the path
of pain that lay before her. For after her mother's cremation, Ser Gerold Royce, a distant cousin whom were more like a dear uncle than anything else to her, would travel to King's Landing and attend
the Realm's Delight's and Ser Laenor Velaryon's wedding feast with Maelera at his side. And it was at this grand feast that the young girl met the man she always heard about yet still seemed to know
nothing of, her father.

The introduction the naive girl believed would
be heartfelt with a warm embrace was only devastation as Daemon Targaryen merely stood from his seat, looking down at his offspring with disinterest, and joined the crowd of dancing nobility. Leaving behind an even more broken hearted girl — tear-stained cheeks puffy, her glorious eyes rimmed with redness as the young girl hardly stopped
crying the entire venture to the capital.

The lovely Alicent Hightower, the Queen in Green, bore witness to the entire event. And it was this night when the Queen Alicent took Princess Maelera under her green wing; giving her word that the girl would be raised into a proper Targaryen princess and
more than loved under her gentle care.

For eight years, Princess Maelera Bloodmoon flourished within the capital, blossoming into an ethereal and beautiful young woman, under the tutelage of Queen Hightower — whom became as another mother to dear Maela. The Princess spent the majority of her youth in the sky or within the Royal Gardens learning to wield sword and
dagger, practicing for hours on end every day. The Bloodmoon were also taught the arts of strategy and warcraft, the histories of Westeros and Essos.

Whilst growing evermore wise and fierce, evermore wild, one would be the fool not to notice the bond between Maelera and the sons of the beloved Queen — Princes Aegon and Aemond Targaryen. The three Targaryens were swift to become inseparable within mere days since meeting one another — rarely ever seen apart whether within the castle walls or in the skies above the Seven Kingdoms. The nobility of court whispered the young princes fancied the young girl, and she them — some were repulsed as the Valyrians' queer customs were still shunned in the Westerosi faith, while others were assured it 'twas only young love to fade within time as all things
do... or so those ignorant lords and ladies let
themselves believe.

Whether those whispers of love were truth, not even the young children, themselves, knew — far too young and distracted by the weight of obligations and duties to notice the blazing inferno of desire that ignited whenever in one anothers mere presence.

On the 𝟏𝟑ᵗʰ day of the 𝟑ʳᵈ moon of 𝟏𝟐𝟖 𝐀𝐂, the Royal Family had gathered upon the isle of Driftmark to attend the Lady Laena Velaryon's burial at sea. It was upon this night many things changed for many people. The once Dragonless Prince, young Aemond Targaryen, were claimed by the Queen of All Dragons, the mighty she-beast Vhagar, only
to pay the price of his eye for the
eternal bond.

That dreadful night, what should have been such a celebrated night, the embers of the wild and oh so uncontrollable desire laying dormant within Maelera and Aemond awoke with a burst of blazing flames as they laid beside one another, looking at the scars they would bare for the rest of their lives as the young boy tenderly whispered in the space between them — "𝐒𝐲𝐭 𝐚̄𝐧𝐨𝐠𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐚 𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐚." — 𝒔𝒉𝒆 𝒃𝒍𝒆𝒅 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒉𝒊𝒎.

The Royal Family would leave their separate ways the following morrow — the Blacks to Dragonstone, the Greens to King's Landing. Not meeting again for nine long years when Lucerys Velaryon's inheritance to Driftmark and the Driftwood Throne is challenged by his uncle, Ser Vaemond Velaryon, when the Sea Snake is gravely injured in battle amidst his war in the Stepstones.

The Mad Princess, with Aegon and Aemond at her sides, the two men she could not bare to live without, pounce unto the opportunity to stir trouble with the Strong pups the moment they lay purple eyes upon them — awakening the chaos and restlessness within their dragons' blood. Taunting them to train in the yard, toasting to them at the last supper, or merely glaring them down like mere charred pieces of
meat all dragons pleasured in
feasting upon.

On the 𝟑ʳᵈ day of the 𝟑ʳᵈ moon of 𝟏𝟑𝟑 𝐀𝐂, King Viserys I the Peaceful of House Targaryen left the world late into the night, rambling few muttered words to his lovely wife that would alter the course of the Targaryen dynasty — for better or for
worse, it remains to be seen.

   The Dance of Dragons is what they called it; dragon against dragon, brother against sister, daughter against father.

The Mad Queen soon finds herself caught between the clutches of hate tearing her family apart — but instead of the rose withering beneath the flames
of war, she becomes the flame as she burns
everything that stands to threaten
what she loves.

She will burn to keep those she loves near, to keep them alive, but she risks succumbing to the madness, famed amongst the Targaryens, burning within her.

Will the Queen Maelera Bloodmoon of House Targaryen mange to protect those she loves and save her House from destruction? Or will she succumb
to her madness as she looses everything to
the flames of war?

" you remind me of your father "

" i can be worse than my father "

— what was it the mad queen always said ;
burn them all

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