༻♕༺

𝕻𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝕵𝐀𝐂𝐀𝐄𝐑𝐘𝐒, 𝕭𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐍 𝐎𝐅 𝕳𝐀𝐈𝐑

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐍𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐒 || 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆'𝐒 𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆
𝟒ᵗʰ 𝐦𝐨𝐨𝐧 || 𝟏𝟐𝟏 𝐀𝐂

༻ •𖢻• ༺

     𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕮𝖗𝖔𝖜𝖓 𝕻𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖈𝖊𝖘𝖘 𝖍𝖆𝖘 𝖇𝖊𝖌𝖚𝖓 𝖍𝖊𝖗 𝖑𝖆𝖇𝖔𝖗𝖘, 𝖎𝖘 the word spreading through the lively halls of the Red Keep. And to pass those long hours by whilst the new Targaryen were being brought into the world, Maela ventures down to the shores beneath Aegon's High Hill through the twisty halls and switchback stairs amidst Maegor's tunnels.

   The young princess dones her riding leathers–black trousers and heeled boots with a long-sleeved, crimson red tunic and an ebony leather belt around her waist. Adorning her mother's bronze necklace around her neck and few silver rings on her slim fingers.

   Walking onto the shores of the Blackwater, where Balerion the Dread awaits his rider, the dragon softly hisses in glee upon the sight of her emerging from the caverns connected to Maegor's tunnels, bending his neck to her with a rumble issuing from his gut.

   Balerion lowers his wing, and Maela giggles at his eagerness to fly with her. "Eager, aren't we?" She gives the tip of his snout a caress.

   Maelera mounts her Dread–vaulting lightly onto his spiked wing, Maela steps onto his shoulders when he lifts it to be level with his back, lowering herself into the divet between his shoulders.

   "𝐒𝐨̄𝐯𝐞̄𝐬." She calls, and Balerion launches into the sky, his wings bending the wind to his will, with a roar like the boom of thunder and all the seagulls take to the air in fright.

   Floating above the Blackwater, gleaming like millions of gemstones were beneath its surface, like a sapphire, Maela soon decides she wishes to venture to the "Sapphire Isle".

   The isle of Tarth is said to be beautiful, and 'tis called "the Sapphire Isle" for the striking blue seas in which it sits beyond the shores of Shipbreaker Bay.

   Looking to the south, Maela knows 'tis only a few hours ride on dragonback to Tarth. 'Twould certainly pass the time until Princess Rhaenyra's babe came.

   A coo emits from Balerion as he twists his neck to look at Maela with his smoldering pits. She smirks. "To the Sapphire Isle, my dread." The Black Dread's roar quakes the still waters beneath him as he turns to fly south, in the direction of the Stormlands.

After nearly three hours of flying above the clouds, Balerion descends, diving towards the seas encircling the Sapphire Isle below.

The isle alone is breathtaking, with its lakes, waterfalls, soaring mountains, high meadows, and shadowed vales. A spine of mountains with hidden valleys runs down the center of Tarth, where Evenfall surmounts the tallest mountain shouldered by the seaside.

The rumors were true, Maela discovers, as Balerion glides above the shimmering waters, the spikes along his onyx wings slicing through the seas gleaming like melted sapphires beneath the soft morning light.

The Straits of Tarth 'twere beautiful and worth more than any sapphire mine in Maela's eyes.

The mist of the sea sprinkles against her cheeks, soothing the kisses from the sun. A flock of gulls pass them by, and Maelera giggles as Balerion snaps his jaws at them, attempting to catch one.

She rubs his tar-colored scales, "𝐃𝐨𝐯𝐨𝐝𝐞𝐝𝐡𝐚 𝐦𝐢𝐫𝐫𝐞." ( silly thing )

When her bottom becomes sore after several hours of flying above the Sapphire Isle with Balerion, Maelera surmises the Princess must have birthed the child by now, and directs her Black Dread to the capital.

When Balerion returns, the ringing of the bells drifts through the breeze and into her ears and Maela thinks for hundreds of miles the joyous news has spread.

She wonders if a Targaryen Prince or Princess awaits. She hopes for a princess.

༻ •𖢻• ༺

     𝕬fter dressing into a lavender silk dress and bathing, Maela heads for the Queen's chamber. Even though she didn't mind the stench of dragon, Maela knew many others do and wished not to suffer that headache today nor upset Alicent, whom had so generously taken her in nearly a year ago.

Maelera Bloodmoon is utterly and devoutly loyal to the Queen Alicent Hightower. She would do anything for her should Alicent only ask it. For Alicent has done more for Maela in the short span of less than a year than her father has her entire life.

The word "father" had rotted in her mouth long ago.

It has an ugly taste that taints every word after it, and every thought associated with it. Whenever she goes to speak it or think it or feel it, the word dies on her tongue and falls straight down her throat to her heart where it burns and burns and burns until her eyes begin to burn with it and all she wants is for it to go away, but it stays and haunts her.

She tries not to dwell on the thoughts of that wretched man.

Reaching the Queen's royal apartments, Maelera greets Ser Criston Cole with a polite grin. "Hello, Ser Criston. Is Her Grace here?"

Ser Criston bows his head, "She is." He opens the door for her. Maelera gives him a grateful grin as she enters the Queen's chamber.

Maelera and Ser Cole were one in the same. The two souls saved by Alicent Hightower. The strays brought under green wings. And for their kindness, they are forever indebted to the Queen and her children, and they will do anything, sacrifice anything, for them. Mayhaps even beyond forever and eternity.

Within the sun-drenched room, Maela sees sweet Hel with her mother on the settee across the hearth with little Daeron perched on Alicent's lap as she rubs soothing circles across his back.

They both look to whomever entered. Helaena's delicate features brighten with a smile, and Alicent greets Maela with a fond expression.

"Good evening, Maela."

Maelera mirrors their smiles as she sits on the tea-table, back to the blazing hearth, and crosses one leg over the other. "Is the babe healthy?"

'Tis Alicent whom answers. "Yes, thank the Mother.. though..." She trails off. A crease forms between Maela's brows, tilting her head. "What?"

"... The boy has.. unusual features for a Valyrian child." The Queen looks as if she did not know how to truly feel about this confounding matter none had expected, not truly.

Maela hums at the curious news. "And what has the King said about it?"

"He seems to have turned a blind eye to it, proclaiming the Prince Jacaerys Velaryon as his trueborn grandson and his daughter's heir."

"I'd just call it a mistake." Expelling a breath, Maela rubs her hands down the skirts of her dress. "I flew to the Sapphire Isle today."

Helaena's eyes sparkle with curiosity as Alicent grins with a knowing glint in her eyes, "And are the rumors true? Are the seas around Tarth melted sapphires?"

Maela giggles with a nod, "I do believe so." The girls' soft laughter rings across the chamber like bell chimes. Daeron lifts his head from his mother's bosom with a coo and Alicent traces her forefinger across his little, chubby cheek adoringly.

"It was so beautiful. Worth more than any blue gem, I'd say."

A wistful grin tilts Alicent's lips as she looks to the side in thought, beginning to gently bounce Daeron on her knee as he fiddles with her auburn locks. "When I lived in Oldtown, I had this window in my chambers in the Hightower and every morning I would watch the sunrise from it. I loved the way the sunlight would glitter on the waters of the Whispering Sound."

The thinly veiled longing swirling midst her green irises sends a pang of sorrow through Maela's heart. She doesn't like to see Alicent anything other than happy.

So she softly grins at her. "I hope to see the Hightower some day."

Her heart soars when Alicent returns her smile. "If you have the patience somewhere within you – " Maela giggles, " – to wait before flying there on your own, I will take you one day."

"No promises." Maela smirks, and Alicent chuckles, nudging the girl's ankle with her sandal.

"We should all go." Sweet Hel suddenly says. Alicent's beautiful features soften with so much love only a mother's heart could posses. "I would never go anywhere without you and your brothers, my sweet girl." Helaena smiles so brightly in response.

But then the girl stiffens, all of the breath in her lungs suddenly escaping her grasp. "The star will bleed and shine again."

   "Sweetling?" Alicent frets, but Maela knew 'twere another vision.

A text she once read flits back into her thoughts. "... And those individuals that are haunted with dreams of dragons will see things that have been, or have yet to come to pass."

Maela had learned Helaena were one of the Dragon Dreamers some months past and had read what little there was about them to aid her cousin and they're friendship had only strengthened since.

Maelera Dragonborn 'twere a Dreamer, as well. But, unlike Hel, her seeings always came to her midst her dreams and she awoke with nose -and-eye bleeds afterwards.

The sight of blood pouring from her eyes and nose sent Salna, Ser Melvan, and Alicent into a panic when they first witnessed it, but she told them why 'twere happening and that she weren't dying.

Young Maela would spend those days locked in her bed chamber after she dreamt, either sitting in a bath or lounging on her bed with little to no light to soothe the ache within her skull.

The dreams were always like riddles or poems, the things she saw never a clear painting. Thus why she wrote every one she had in her Dream Journal.

Just like herself, Helaena seeks solitude after a seeing and thus left them with a mumbled farewell. A soft sigh falls from Alicent's frowning lips, wishing she could help her daughter however she could.

But ultimately knowing she couldn't.

Knowing 'tis time for Daeron to be taken away for a nap, Maela decides she wishes to see this unusual Valyrian for herself. She leaves for the Crown Princess' bed chamber after giving Alicent and Daeron farewell kisses on their cheeks.

Knocking upon the door, the cousin she's never truly met aside from suppers greets her with a polite grin.

"Maelera?"

The young girl grins up at her. "I wish to see the babe. Is it a good time?"

Upon hearing she wishes to meet her little babe, Rhaenyra welcomes her cousin within her chambers and glides off to the cradle to grab Jacaerys.

And holding the brown of hair babe in her arms, Maelera sees the truth for herself.

She knows Ser Harwin Strong's face, and knows this babe's pug nose and brown eyes are a mirror of the Commander of the City Watch's.

A bastard, born from forbidden desire.

She merely hums to herself, brow tilted curiously, as she begins to gently bounce the little prince.

'Tis a cruel twist of fate none will ever realize as the unholy offspring of the blood moon cradles the young babe. Oh how the years will only fester their hate.

__________༻♕༺___________

Boom! Another one is here! 😝 The first of the Strong pups is here and Maela isn't falling for that bullsh*t Viserys tries to spin 😌. Nearly halfway done with the first part and I cannot f'n wait to get into the second part of act i 🥳!!! And I still can't get enough of Maela and her puppy, Balerion 🥹, and I never will lol 😜.

And since fifty thousand reads is approaching, omfg, would u lovely readers be interested in me writing a preview of a future scene???