It was a normal day for the Queen Who Never Was, Princess Rhaenys. Her husband was at the war of the Stepstones, leaving her alone to tend to the fort and important matters from the side of Velaryons.
The pyre by the side flickered ever so heavily as the cold breath of the sea whisked around her fingers. She put the quill back into the ink and glanced out of the windows.
The calm waters and the gloomy skies reminded her of a storm to come. Wind refused to flow, this was a problem for the ships.
Her eyes slowly clouded with mist as she glanced down, the murky waters reflecting a deep emptiness.
It reminded her of the fact that her son was dead and her husband was away at war. One should feel rage at the fact, she would not deny that she did not however with that came a tinge of bitter resentment.
Her anger was like the ocean, unpredictable but mostly calm. Life had taught her many valuable lessons, she had learned that anger especially is just a waste of energy.
Across from her sat, Laena, huddled up in a corner with a book in hand. Rhaenys glanced at her daughter, she was beautiful.
Pale Targaryen skin and silver hair with a haunting pair of purple orbs similar to her own. The death of Laenor had taken a toll on her, but she had recovered.
Rhaenys was surprised. Usually, Laena's favorite pastime is to fly Vhagar beyond the skies, drifting across the ocean, it was rare to see her inside the castle walls. Something she could understand herself as a dragon-rider- gliding through the sky would uplift all worries and give eternal freedom.
"Laena?" The Princess asked.
The woman looked up at her mother. A rosy face and a twinkle in her eyes.
"You are usually out there flying," Rhaenys spoke with a soft smile. "What have you been reading?"
A blush adorned her face as she coughed lightly, looking away.
Rhaenys chuckled in amusement. It seems she was caught lacking. However, Rhaenys could understand. Laena was well past the age of early marriage.
At twenty-one name days it would be a surprise if she had not touched a single piece of erotica literature.
"If you need privacy I could head to my room."
Laena almost squealed, she shut the book tight and hid it under the covers. For a brief moment, she glanced at the windows of her room and her eyes widened.
A huge shadow loomed over the ocean as the waves beneath roared with power.
"What is happening?" Laena whispered in awe.
Rhaenys turned around and watched, the waves fell into the ocean as a majestic beast came into view. It was a dragon. A huge black dragon. Its scales glistened in the sun as it rushed towards Driftmark.
She quickly grabbed the telescope in her palms and looked into it. A silver hair man dressed in royal navy came into view.
Rhaenys simply needed a glance to judge the clothing, it was none other than the dress knitted after whom she was named after.
She looked back at the parchment at the end of the table with a sigil of the three-headed dragon and exhaled with amazement.
"So it's true... the Crown Prince has recovered."
My eye's widened as I stood at the gateway of the High Tide. Subconsciously I clutched my mother's dainty palms lightly as we looked at the scenery in front with awe.
Enormous would be an understatement. It was a surprise that the black dragon could somehow land.
The entire Island had encroached in a darkness, a shadowy veil that loomed like death. Amid them, a creepy red orb glimmered that made one's blood freeze the moment they would glance.
I gulped my saliva a little. There was a pressure I could feel like none other. It was as if my instincts were crying for survival.
From upon the back of the dragon, hopped a young figure. From the distance, he was tall and broad-shouldered and as he arrived closer his facial figures became easier to discern.
Pale skin, paler than my own, and eyes that match his dragon... blood red that cried for more... his hair was pure silver, and long eyebrows carved across his visage along with baby pink lips that filled me with envy.
His clothing was like nothing I had seen before. It was wrapped around his body, covering his torso and arms. But it was hard to tell what else was underneath as the fabric seemed to hide everything.
Mother approached him with a stoic gaze as she trudged closer, her lips finally quivering into a forced smile.
"Welcome to Driftmark, your grace."
The man in front glanced at me for a second before looking back at mother, a similar smile blooming on his visage.
"It is wonderful to be here. Driftmark surely is grandiose compared to what I imagined."
His eyes observed the surroundings for a moment before looking at me.
"Princess Laena too is far more beautiful than what rumors made her be."
I smiled back at him and bowed lightly. Something my mother did not.
"You flatter me, your grace."
He then turned to look at my mother who seemed to have been waiting to speak.
"If I may ask, what is the purpose of this unannounced visit, your grace? My deepest apologies since we were not aware that our crown prince would be flying to Driftmark..."
She then stared at the dragon behind, her eyes twitching a little.
"...on the back of a dragon as large as Balerion the Black Dread."
The prince nodded lightly, looking into the distance as he spoke with a soft curl.
"Ah, Balerion. Did you know... my grandfather and I were both named after him?"
I could almost see mother's eyes twitch from a distance away. She forced herself to smile and spoke, her words laced with satire.
"I did not, your grace. After all, I was merely but King Jahaerys's eldest son's daughter."
He hesitated for a moment before articulating with a gentle smile.
"You could have made a promising queen, Princess Rhaenys."
Mother narrowed her eyes, "Let us head inside, you must be tired from the flying. Moreover, I can feel you have not come on an impulse."
The prince grinned as he nodded.
"Certainly Princess Rhaenys. You are quite right in that matter."
The dragon meanwhile closed its eyes, resting a little. It's tail coiling across it's body causing riffs of waves fo form.
Terrifying indeed. I thought Vhagar was the largest... how is there a dragon even gigantic?
I shook my head and followed mother and the prince behind who glanced at me with a pompous smirk.
In return, all I could do out of politeness was smile albeit a little strained. The Targaryens have been our family's downfall for a few years now.
Although, I must say... Prince Baelon is undoubtedly good-looking.