༻♕༺

𝕿𝐇𝐄 𝕮𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐍 𝐎𝐅 𝕿𝐇𝐄 𝕼𝐔𝐄𝐄𝐍

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐍𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐒 || 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆'𝐒 𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆
𝟔ᵗʰ 𝐦𝐨𝐨𝐧 || 𝟏𝟐𝟎 𝐀𝐂

༻ •𖢻• ༺

𝕬𝐬 𝖙𝐡𝐞 𝕼𝐮𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝖕𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐝, 𝕬𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝖙𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝕸𝐚𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐫𝐚 to her royal chambers to meet her children the following morrow, so here the young girl stands before a brother and a sister. The girl seems only a year younger than Maelera's age, and the brother a year older.

From where she stands beside Maelera, Alicent introduces the three children to one another with a soft grin. "Maelera, this is Aegon and Helaena. Children, this is Maelera, your cousin."

   Lifting her hand into a small wave, a gentle grin lifts Maelera's lips, tilting her head as her purple eyes take in the siblings' features.

The boy named for the Conqueror were taller than her by only a few inches with untamed silver hair falling just past his shoulders—like the beams of silver in her brunette locks. But his eyes were what captivated the young girl the most.

They were Valyrian eyes. As lilac as those hues in the sunsets she would watch from her window.

   The sister reminds Maelera of the flowers in the garden outside of her bed chamber in Runestone, soft and gentle. Helaena was beautiful. Her silver-gold hair shinning under the beams emitting through the sun-drenched windows. Her lavender eyes were like the flowers, seeing across centuries.

   "Are you the rider of Balerion the Dread? I saw him yesterday." Aegon asks, his lilac eyes shimmering with wonder. A smile lifts Maelera's youthful features at the mention of her dragon, her other half, and tendrils of her hair bob with her enthusiastic nod. "I am."

   Aegon mirrors her enthusiasm, smiling. "Could we meet him?"

   Before the Princess could respond, the Queen softly cleared her throat, "Maybe one day, sweet boy."

   The Hightower Queen had always been wary of the wild beasts only those of the Targaryen lineage, the last of the dragonlords, could form bonds with and ride. If Alicent had her way, she'd have kept her children as far away as she could from those dangerous fire-breathing beasts, but she had known neither her father nor her husband would've seen otherwise, therefore, held her tongue against the ancient traditions of House Targaryen.

But Balerion the Black Dread, himself? The wildest and largest of all the dragons in the known world. Alicent wouldn't hear it.

   Though, young Aegon only huffs at his mother's words while rolling his lilac eyes. Maelera's dark brows furrow, her once smiling lips falling into a frown. "You shouldn't disrespect your mother." She spoke sternly as her eyes glisten with the ghosts of her grief.

   Upon her words, Aegon's brows lift. None speak to him like that other than his mother and grandfather, before he left for Oldtown. He were astounded for a moment before intrigue overtook his shock.

   This Targaryen had a wild look to her. With her hair so peculiar and unlike any he'd ever seen and eyes like a dragon. He felt drawn to her. As if a string connects them, pulling him towards her.

   ".. I'm sorry, mother."

   The fondness within her softened eyes overcomes her initial surprise as Alicent grins. "All is forgiven, Aeg." Her eldest, her first sweet boy, groans at the nickname he despises only to bring forth a giggle from Maelera, whose eyes drift toward Helaena, whom had been rather quiet.

   "Do the both of you have dragons?"

   Aegon nods. "Mine is Sunfyre." And Maelera softly smiles, she likes the name, beautiful yet fierce, she thinks. The image of a dragon that looks like a droplet of fire from the glorious sun above forms within her mind as she looks to Helaena. "And you, Helaena?"

   The beautiful young girls looks up from the floor as she twiddles with her thumbs, and shakes her head. "I do not, my egg did not hatch."

   "Oh, I'm sorry.. I'm sure you will bind yourself to a dragon one day."

   Maelera's heart flutters when the Quiet Princess perks up with a soft smile that fills her with warmth. "The blue will bind the tethers." A line forms between Maelera's dark brows as she tilts her head, though, she doesn't get to question the princess as a maiden comes into the Queen's chamber with a wailing babe, no older than three summers, in her arms. Alicent brings her second son into her arms, lightly bouncing him as she strokes her hand along his back in soothing motions with soft hums falling from her lovely lips.

   The babe's loud wails seem to upset Helaena, Maelera notices, as the gentle girl leaves with haste, whilst her brother, not seeming to mind his brother's cries, merely moves to sit upon the carpet before the hearth blazing with orange-and-yellow heat to return to reading the book written about his namesake; the Conqueror.

   Even with her soothing caresses along his back and her gentle hums, her sweet boy would not stop wailing, therefore, Alicent moves away from the windows that overlook the Dragonpit perched on Rhaenys' Hill and sits herself on one of the couches sat opposite one another with a tea table between them.

   Yet, the cries of the babe still do not settle, and Maelera creases her brows, then, joins the Queen's side on one of the couches with forest green cushions and pillows with oak backrests and legs.

   Remembering those nights after her real dreams when her mother would soothe her, Maelera lifts her hand to stroke her pinkie down the babe's nose. His wails begin to settle as his eyes, the most beautiful shade of violet-indigo she's ever seen, look to the young girl, then, the babe coos.

   Alicent looks to Maelera with astonishment shinning within her wide eyes, lashes fluttering, then, she smiles as she says, "Well, it seems you have the magical touch to soothe dear Aemond here." Maelera softly smiles at the babe. With his wide indigo eyes full of wonder as they stare at the unfamiliar face beside him. "He's adorable."

   The babe, Aemond, babbles incoherent words as he reaches his little hands out, making grabby-gestures toward Maelera. "You wouldn't mind holding him?" Still with a soft smile lifting her youthful face, Maelera shakes her head and eagerly yet gently brings the babe unto her lap. Aemond's little hands loosing their baby-fat grab ahold of one of the silver strands in Maelera's hair and brings it into his mouth. Chuckling, she gently removes the now wet strand of hair from the babe's grasp, "You mustn't eat my hair, little one.. lest you want to join the cats in coughing up hair-balls."

   A bright giggle falls from Alicent's smiling lips as Aemond tilts his head before beginning to fiddle with Maelera's soft hair, but he makes not another move to eat it. All while Alicent fondly looks at her son and Maelera together.

   Little Aemond never let the wet nurses nor her maidens tend to him, not trusting any face that were not his mother's, or Aegon's, yet he, immediately, took to this young girl he's never met. It told the Queen she made the right decision in bringing Maelera Targaryen under her wing, under her guidance, and protection.

   "Ser Gerold will be leaving King's Landing today, Maela."

   While caressing a hand along Aemond's back as she lightly bounces the leg he sits on, Maelera looks to the Queen as she continues, "As I told Ser Gerold, you will be properly rasied and well cared for here under my protection.. but only if you wish it, Princess."

A line forms between her dark brows as Maelera looks down at the babe in her lap, once again thinking on this decision she knows will alter the course of her life forever. She will be leaving Runestone behind, all the memories she ever made with her mother.

But the only thing that made Maelera happy in that stone keep surmounting the hillside shouldering the Bay of Crabs was her mother, the rolling hills and plains she rode across.

   She had nothing left in the Vale, she knew, therefore, Maelera looks to the Queen, once again. "I want to stay."

   A smile blooms across Alicent's lips. "Alright then. I will have proper chambers prepared for you before the day ends. Is there anything you want brought down from Runestone?"

   "Some things, but I can fly there and retrieve them."

Her auburn curls shimmer under the sunlight as the Queen stands, nodding her head in the direction of the door, "Come then, you should say farewell to Ser Gerold before he leaves."

With a single nod, Maelera stands to her leather-booted feet with little Aemond held to her hip. A soft coo falls from his lips as he rests his head in the crook of her neck. Though, before Maelera follows Alicent through the halls of the Red Keep, she turns to the boy still laid beside the hearth with a book before him.

"Aegon, would you join us?" She asks the young prince.

Aegon's lilac eyes lift from the ink-written words of a history centuries past unto the cousin he never knew he had. Her eyes the shade of the plum fruit he'd seen growing on trees within the Royal Gardens shimmer with hope as she gifts him with a soft grin.

The young prince did not hesitate. Slamming the book closed, he jumped to his feet and all but ran to the side of Maelera Targaryen. She just giggled.

"Come, children." And they do. Shadowing the beautiful Green Queen like ducklings, the young Targaryens follow Alicent through the bright halls of the Red Keep towards the grand entry courtyard.

༻ •𖢻• ༺

     𝔖tood upon the crenellations overlooking the capital city below Aegon's High Hill, the last words of Ser Gerold before he left rings across her mind.

   Her cousin had bent down to stand eye-to-eye with Maelera, gently squeezing the shoulder his hand rested on, speaking so softly only the two of them heard his words.

   "The capital is nothing like Runestone, Maelera, you must know this. The game of thrones is always at play, and now you will become a pawn on the board." Gerold spoke even more softly. "Trust to Alicent Hightower and her children, and only them, Maelera. And remember, you are a dragon."

   And heed his words, she always would.

   The coppery-red glint dotting the thousands of buildings within the walls of King's Landing shimmer underneath the glares of the midday sunlight peeking through clouds above. Maelera's ears ring with the echoes of chatter and yells from the markets below as the sea breeze tousles her hair. The stench of Flea Bottom and the salty bay wafts through her nose that crinkles whenever a strong whiff of shit and 'bowls o' brown' drifts through the winds.

   Maelera rests her palms on the red stonework that separates the Red Keep from the city, itself, gazing out near longingly at her mother's bronze banner fading away in the distant cobbled streets.

   Although the Bloodmoon did not doubt her decision to remain, here, within King's Landing, Maelera would miss the family and the home she'd always known.

   But Princess Maelera Bloodmoon of House Targaryen would return to Runestone to take her mother's seat as it's Lady one day and protect the land and it's people as her mother had always done. She was certain of it.

   The little girl would become a woman her mother would be proud of.

   When the bronze fabric of the banners glimmering under the bright sky disappear like a shadow when the sun falls beneath the horizon, Maelera calls out to the one resting between her heart and soul.

   And Balerion the Dread arrives within moments.

   A roar thunders through the sea breeze as his shadow engulfs the entire entry yard beneath him whilst he circles the red castle until he descends unto the walls where his rider awaits. The red stones tremble beneath his weight as Balerion perches a few meters beside Maelera Bloodmoon.

   The Household guards donning the colors of red-and-black nearest the wall had all run away in fear of being crushed or burned, the nobility that still skulked about the yard fleeing into the safety of the Red Keep as the Black Dread shook the earth with his mighty roar.

   And Maelera giggles, a swirl of joy sparking the embers of madness within her as she gazes upon her dreaded dragon, her feared dragon.

   The dragon's eyes shift unto the Targaryen and his large snout came towards her, rumbling coming from deep in his chest. His nostrils sniffed at the air, pupils dilated as he watched her lift her hand upward while she balanced on her toes. Her fingers rub against smooth black scales.

Below the crenellations, numerous wide eyes bare witness to the awe-inspiring bond between the girl and her dragon. A dragon so large, his rider was just barely bigger than one of his teeth, which sat sharply in his pitch black mouth.

In the smoldering red pits of Balerion's eyes, Maela saw her own reflection. He is fire made flesh, and so is she.

And then, Maelera Bloodmoon mounts the Black Dread for the second time in her early life, navigating his deadly spikes to take her seat on a dragonlord's only true throne—the back of a dragon.

"To Runestone. 𝐒𝐨̄𝐯𝐞̄𝐬!"

Despite his size, Balerion flew gracefully, his muscular body propelling him into the air with ease and almost silently. A true apex predator.

   With great flaps of his wings that sound like the clap of thunder, Balerion ascends to the clouds peppering the blue sky. Though, before they faded within the clouds, Maelera looks back.

   From the balcony attached to his bed chamber, stood Prince Aegon Targaryen. And Maelera swore she saw a glimmer of admiration etched onto his features, and she smiles.

   Balerion flew her above the clouds, and she knows they would be all she'd see for a while.

༻ •𖢻• ༺

( art belongs to Jota )

༻ •𖢻• ༺

     𝔇ipping below the clouds, the stone keep she has always known comes into sight, perched on a hillside upon the horizon. The dark-grey stones of Runestone reflect the light of the sun shimmering from above as Balerion circles the keep thrice before descending to the thick walls of the keep's courtyard below.

   The Black Dread levels one of his great wings with his back then lowers it, once again, unto the ground once Maelera stood upon it.

   Stepping off of her dragon's wing with more of a jump than anything else, Maelera rushes through the familiar halls to her bed chamber to pack the few things she wished not to part with.

   Upon entering the chamber of her early youth, Maelera plucks a leather satchel from the rack near the door holding up cloaks and such and lays it on her bed to begin filling it. Walking over to the walnut armorie, Maelera gathers a mere handful of her dresses, tunics, and trousers she deems the prettiest and stuffs them away within the satchel.

Maelera were certain that the Queen would have the finest seamstresses in King's Landing sew new dresses for the new Targaryen Princess properly fit for the humid summers of the Crownlands.

   Returning to the armorie pushed against the stone wall opposite the window, Maela pulls open one of the drawers and grabs the bow her mother had made for her only a year ago.

The curved wood were carved from the bark of the oak trees dotting the vast majority of the plains outside of Runestone's landscape, the bow string made from deer sinew.

   Running her palm across the smooth wood, her fingers trace the ancient runes of the old Royces her mother'd engraved into the bow. Maela remembers the armor her mother wore bore these ancient markings, as well.

   Her mother told her the runes brought a Royce protection amidst the field of battle.

   Maelera had believed her mother's words, once. Now, she wasn't so sure.

   With a somber breath, Maela tucks the bow away within the depths of the satchel, then, she looks to the bedside table. Where the necklace she had inherited from her mother the day of her death rests atop a leather journal.

   Lifting the beautiful piece of jewelry into her soft hands, Maelera admires the intricate designs, her chest suddenly heavy with sorrow. The necklace were made up of dark steel chains looping around one another, the steel cold to the touch, with a bronze pendant molded into the shape of the sun. The pendant reflects the light of the sun peering in through the lone window, a single rune carved into the center of the miniature sun.

   Though, instead of stuffing away the necklace that meant so much to her heavy heart, Maelera clasps the cold steel around her neck. Her hand slides from the back of her neck unto the smooth sun, feeling the dips of the rune whose meaning has been lost within the depths of history.

   Expelling a breath, Maela grabs the leather bound journal, or as she calls it her 'Dream Journal', with all of her real dreams written within it and stuffs it away in the satchel, among with a few other of her favorite books scattered about the chamber.

   Many times for the past two years, Maelera Bloodmoon's dreams had come true. And once they did, she had begun to write them down into a journal.

   The final object she dare not part with for the many years she will live within King's Landing away from the only home she's known, Maelera gently places within the satchel. A hand-held wooden dragon her mother had whittled.

   It was Rhea Royce's last gift to her daughter.

   The light wood carved to resemble Balerion the Black Dread—her only child's protector when she could not be there.

   Flipping the cover of the satchel close, Maelera ties the laces to assure the cherished things within will not fall out amidst the returning flight to King's Landing, then, she looks to the chest beside the cold hearth.

   Plucking yet another leather made satchel from the wooden rack taller than herself, Maelera sits upon her haunches before the chest, unlatches the metal clasps then lifts the lid to reveal what lay within.

   And there they lay on a bed of red silk, three glorious dragon eggs. The only known clutch of Balerion the Dread.

The largest of the clutch is a bronze egg with black ripples and swirls and on either of its sides lay a scarlet red egg burnished with onyx flecks and a purple egg streaked with scales the shade of obsidian.

Maelera Targaryen were certain she would never see anything so beautiful as the eggs before her, all which shimmer like polished metal in the sunlight.

Lifting the scarlet egg, warm to the touch, although her mother had never felt the heat, from any of them, into her hands, Maelera delicately lays it within the satchel, mirroring this delicacy with the other pair of eggs as she lays them together within the satchel until she flips the cover and tightens the silver-steel clasp closed.

With a silent breath, Maelera stands to her feet and grabs the other satchel and lays it upon the shoulder that does not bare the weight of the dragon eggs, the leather straps criss-crossing across her chest, hitting her hips as she walks over to the rack and takes the black cloak hanging from one of the hooks.

Now, with all she needs, Maelera wraps the thin cloak around herself, ending just below her knees with black fur lining the edges, and closes the silver clasp at her neck. She reaches for the doorknob and pulls the wooden door open, but then, she hesitates.

If I look back... I am lost.

Maelera Bloodmoon leaves the bed chamber of her early youth behind. Walking through the torch-lit halls to the yard Balerion the Dread awaits her within still, a familiar voice calls out to her, stopping Maela in her path.

"Leaving without a farewell, then?"

Alyssa Royce. A smile gracing her beautiful face as she approaches her late Lady's daughter. And Maelera mirrors her smile, falling into her only friend's arms when she offers her warm embrace.

Beautiful Alyssa, only a head taller than her younger cousin, presses her lips to Maelera's head, then, gently pushes her so they may stand at arms length, resting her palms atop her shoulders.

"You will write to me and tell me all about life in the capital."

"I will, I promise." A line forms between Alyssa's dark brows as Maelera's purple eyes become misty with emotion. "I will miss you, my friend."

With her throat tightening with emotion, as well, Alyssa only nods, her brunette curls bouncing to the motion, her words a mere breath, "As will I."

With a final embrace, a last whisper falls from Alyssa's lips, "Take care of yourself, Maela."

Then the young girls, the only friend one another had in their years living in Runestone, pull away from their embrace and, once again, Maelera does not look back as she walks away from her cousin.

Just when the grey stones begin to reflect the light of the sun as she reaches the hall that will lead her to the courtyard, Maelera is interrupted by her cousin. She lifts her sharp eyes into a roll.

Adarien.

The older boy, only an inch taller than herself with a mop of brunette curls atop his head, bids the girl with a glare, his upper lip curled with a sneer. A glare Maelera returns more fiercely as he opens his mouth to spew words dripping with resentment.

"Should've known you'd abandon your duties to go flying somewhere else.. just like your father."

With the mere mention of the word 'father', Maelera Bloodmoon's eyes fill with the fire of the dragon stirring awake within her and grabs a fistful of Adarien's tunic, shoving him against the stone with a resounding smack.

"Do not ever compare me to that man! I will return one day when I am knowledged enough to rule a keep, do tell Ser Gerold to keep my seat warm."

Shoving the girl off of him with a grunt, whom hardly even stumbles, Adarien scoffs, his lips twitching with another sneer, "The capital will eat a little girl like you alive, you're no dragon. You don't even have the silver hair of the Targaryens."

Maelera Bloodmoon merely smirks, unbothered, "I may not, but what I do have.. is the dragon's fire." At her words, follows a roar that shakes the entire keep like thunder does the mountains and the Daughter of Death chuckles so darkly it sends a cold tendril of dread down Adarien's spine.

Without giving him another minute of the day, Maelera leaves her vile cousin behind as she walks out of the Runestone keep with her back straightened and pride swirling within her. She knows she will return one day.

Mounting Balerion the Dread, the Bloodmoon flies back to the capital of Westeros, to what will become her new home with the family she'd never known.

༻ •𖢻• ༺

     𝔗he cliffside beneath the looming Dragonpit perched on Rhaenys' Hill trembles when Balerion the Dread lands outside of the Dragons' Entrance. Maelera could hear the shrieks of the other dragons from deep within the pit, responding to the King of Dragons' presence.

   A distance from the Dragons' Entrance awaits the Queen of Westeros, the lovely Alicent Hightower, with a royal wheelhouse behind her. Her dark green dress sways with the gentle wind, and Maelera smiles at the sight of Alicent. Though, it falls when her purple eyes settle upon the men approaching her dragon in pale robes with wooden staffs.

   The bones of the young girl rattle as Balerion roars so ferociously at the men with ash and soot staining their skin that the earth quakes beneath the mightiest of all the dragons and pebbles tumble from the cliffs edge into the Blackwater below.

   Maelera knew who these men in pale robes were. The Dragon Keepers. She read only very little about them in the few books the library in Runestone held of the Targaryen history, but enough to know what they sought to do with her dragon.

   Maelera Bloodmoon would never allow it.

   Her Valyrian eyes fill with the fire rushing through her bloodstream as she stands and treks through the spikes protruding across the Dread's back, stepping unto his already lifted wing.

   The heels of her boots meet the harsh ground with a thump. Balerion's red eyes follow the Dragon Keepers' every movement, no matter how small, and his throat rumbles as Maelera strokes her hand along the entire underside of his neck until she stands before his gigantic head.

   "You will not be chaining my dragon beneath the pit."

   Some wisely bow to the Princess' command, though, one of the few whom were taught the Common Tongue upon birth speaks up, "Forgive me, Princess, but the dragon must be nested within the pit."

   A smirk merely lifts the young girl's lips as she looks down at her boots, toes curling within, before she nods to herself, then, approaches the much taller Keeper, but the Black Dread behind her makes her feel larger than the world. "If you go near him, I will burn you alive."

   With her fiery words, the Dragon Keepers all bow their upper-halves in reluctant submission before sauntering back into the depths of the Dragonpit. A loud rumble surrounds her, large flames pluming from Balerion's mouth, the flames reflecting on his shinny black scales.

The flap of the Black Dread's wings sends dust and pebbles swirling across the wind, yet Maela remains unaffected as she smirks to herself. Then, the young girl expels a breath and skips over to the awaiting Queen with a smile bright as the sun above.

Alicent's green eyes that shimmer in the sunlight are heavy with curiosity. In all her years of living in King's Landing, she had never seen the Keepers bend so easily to someone else's will they did not know, Targaryen or not. She wonders what her young ward had said to them.

But she doesn't get to question the young girl as Maelera grasps her hand with a giggle and leads them into the wheelhouse, where they ride back to the Red Keep within. Where Princess Maelera Targaryen's new life awaits her.

__________༻♕༺___________

༻ Author's Note ༺

Another chapter is here, yes! 😌 I love this book so f'n much, omg 🥹
Maelera has met the Targtowers!! 🥳 Their relationships are going to be so fun to write, each is different from the next and so unique in their own way!!
I know Sunfyre isn't actually "born to" Aegon in the book, nor the show I think 🥴 , but I thought it fit this book better ( and some future scenes 😉 ) if he already has his golden boi 🥰
And yes, I'm keeping with the book!Dragonpit which can fit Balerion, but obviously, Maela is not having that 😡
Now Maelera is within King's Landing ready to begin her new life with the Targtowers, whatever will happen??? 🤔
( I honestly cannot wait to write the rest of this part, especially the ending *wink 😉 wink* can any of u lovely readers guess it??? )