𝐃𝐀𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐎𝐍, 𝖺𝖾𝗆𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝖺𝗋𝗀𝖺𝗋𝗒𝖾𝗇

𝒆𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕

∘₊✧───•───✧₊∘
𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭;
𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇
└──────────────────────┘

      𝐀𝐒 𝐀𝐄𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐀 𝐀𝐍𝐃 Grey Ghost flew across the Narrow Sea, they made a quick stop on an island just south of the Stepstones, enjoying themselves in the soft heat and warmth that the Isle of Pearls brought them. The Isle of Pearls was one of the capital cities and islands in Valea.

Maybe it was the warm water that gave the pair a feeling of comfort or a resemblence to Old Valyria, or maybe it was the beauty of the nature around them that made both, the dragon and his rider, feel like they are where they belong.

The Isle of Pearls was one of the many islands the Valyrian Freehold had conquered, alongside Island of Crowns on the south of Valea and Isle of Tears in Sothoryos. The dragon lords used the Isle of Tears as a penal colony for the worst criminals. New methods of torture were used and blood magic is said to have been practiced, including women being forced to mate with beasts to produce twisted, half human offsprings.

While the Isle of Tears was used as a torture center for only the worst criminals, the Isle of Pearls was used as a place for the most elite dragonlords to come and rest in.

The Isle of Pearls was considered to be one of the most beautiful Isles in the World, even in the times of the Valyrian Freehold. Now, it was praised for its beauty as much as the Garden of Vhaena was praised for its exotic climate. The sunny Isle was fertile with palm and fruit trees, and the surrounding blue-green waters are said to be filled with fish.

More than anywhere else in the known world, the blood of Old Valyria still runs strong in the Valeari who are regarded as beautiful. Even the smallfolk in Valea have the pale skin, silver-gold hair, and purple, lilac, and pale amethyst eyes of the dragonlords of old. Many of the nobility in Valea have produced infamous beauties.

Their tongue is a corruption of High Valyrian. The Valeanese dialect was told to be a musical, flowing, liquid melody. Their cities are made of pure white stone - a counterpart to the Valyrian made city, made of coal-black stone. The buildings were sweet-looking and quiet. Ancient and graceful. Yet, no building was made of gold, it was too much of vulgar looking on the Valyrian white skin, they never wore it in the Isle of Pearls nor anywhere else in Valea.

And like Lys, the Isle of Pearls was also known for its pretty and expensive pillow houses and pleasure gardens. Lys and the Isle of Pearls were like sister cities, the only difference was that the Valeari were people who were rulled by High Lords and High Ladies - and over those rulled the High King of Valea and the Four Seas.

Aenora reached out to the warm blue-green water beneath the rock she was sitting on, and leaned on her beloved mounth for support, the rocks were very slippery in the late summer. She looked at the bright green trees in the distance and smiled to herself. Aenora smelled the scent of the Sea around her and the familiar scent of roses willed her nose as she turned left. There, she saw a single Black Rose. They only grow in the Forest of Avallon. Aenora thought to herself. She could not help herself but to go there, it was stronger than her so much, it pained. She had to see it. But, as she saw the tree branch move, she decided against it.

As she took a hold of Grey Ghost's jaw and nudged him, he woke up from his slumber with a quiet roar. After Aenora has shushed him, he looked at her like he understood what she had meant, like he understood what she was feeling, like he understood her. Grey Ghost, or as Aenora called him - Merxys - leaned in and let her climb on his back, carefuly and quietly.

"Soves, Merxys!"She yelled out the command and her silvery-grey beast soared into the air with but a few flaps of his wings. It was the rush of adreline she felt that made her feel powerful then, watching the people of the nearest city watch in amasement and wonder, but at the same time, terror and fear, as the Princess of Westeros and the future Queen of The Realm fly above their heads on Merxys - or as the shipmen called him, Grey Ghost.

As she looked at the forest where she had seen the flower, she found a man with skin as black as the night, and hair as pale as the moonlight, staring at her. Somehow, she felt satisfied with her way of escaping the sittuation. But, as the adreline left her, half a dozen new feelings entered. 

Why in the name of all the Gods would someone try to murder her? She loved her people, gave them food and money when she could, danced and sang to them near the Dragonrider's Square, or as the commonfolk liked to call the square with Rhaena Targaryen's statue on her great beast, Aegel - The Queen's Square. She even took some of the most poor children in the City and gave them a job in the walls of the Red Keep. What has she done to somebody to anger them that much that they try to assasinate the Princess? She could not understand.

Then the pain hit her, like she felt the hurt in her heart. As if she could only now not understand, but, somehow feel like she was left to mourn over herself and her own soul that was left to itself, to use its depth to try - and  fail - to understand why do her own people hate her, when she has done nothing bad to them.

Next was saddness. The kind of saddness that left one without the energy. The kind of sad that made you just want to crawl into the soft bed and hug yourself to sleep, and never wake up. The kind of sad that overwhelms you so much, that even smiling, talking or even moving is painful. The kind of sad that makes you feel it in the heart. It is just saddness. She was lonely in the places she didn't even know existed in her.

With a sad smile, she welcomed betrayal. Oh, the sweet arousal of cold betrayal, how salty it tasted to Aenora.
They tried to warn her about the nature of men, how fast they will turn after she acts different than they wish, but she did not listen, she never did. From the first time she did good deeds to the commonfolk, she knew what she was doing, and she knew it would come to hurt her sometime. But that did not stop her from being kind. After this morning, she would never go back to being like she used to be, she knew, and it broke her.

She relaxed for a minute's time, and calmed her breaths, taking it one at a time. Then fear hit her like a force of a thousand dragons. But, she invited the emotion into her body, because, fear comes only where it is invited. She found fear calming. Fear isn't always the enemy, sometimes, fear is your friend, your indicator, your wake-up call. Aenora liked the fear of not knowing if someone would try to kill her tomorrow, she enjoyed it much more than she enjoyed their love. The love of the smallfolk was temperamental. Tiring, even. It makes demands. Their love uses you, changes your mind. But their hatered, now that is something you can use. It's hard, or soft, however you crave it.

And the last and most powerful of the emotions was the one of the hardest to control. When there is anger, there is always pain and a whole lot of other emotions underneath. It is the worst feeling of all, Queen Alysanne told her daughter one night. The trouble in anger is that, that it gets a hold of you. And then, like the Warrior and Stranger have both possessed you, you are no longer the master of yourself. Anger is. And when it rules, unintended consenquences follow. Anger will help you survive, but over time, it will eat you alive like a crow.

"Arrax, save me."Aenora muttered to herself as she flew Merxys over the Narrow Sea and landed on the isle of Dragonstone. She has been fighting her emotions for so long, she has forgotten to urge her dragon towards Kings Landing. That night, the Princess didn't return to her family, but, rather, had stayed in the castle of Dragonstone.