"Who is that girl? the one with changing hair and violet eyes?"
"Megara Royce Targaryen...Your stepsister, my daughter, The Bronze Demon."
Megara Royce looked every bit of Targaryen with violet eyes and silver hair. She hated it, as a child she woul...
"Megara had loved Daemon greatly and he loved her perhaps even more."
'The Dragons Awakening'
- Painted by Maester Leroy
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Runestone descended into chaos, and the cause remained a mystery to young Megara. She stood by her window, observing the frenzied activity below as people scurried about, their panicked cries filling the air. Her septa continued her historical lecture, but Megara's mind was elsewhere, lost in the turmoil outside. Suddenly, her maid rushed into the room, a look of urgency on her face. "What is it?" Megara asked, her curiosity tinged with worry. A glance between her maid and septa conveyed their shared concern, and they exchanged whispered conversations that Megara chose to tune out. Her attention was abruptly drawn to her cousin, Gerold, who wept inconsolably outside. In his arms lay a person, their body drenched in blood. Megara strained to discern their identity but took a step back in shock, a short gasp escaping her lips. The gruesome sight left her trembling.
"Princess!" the maid exclaimed, shoving Megara away from the window. She cast a horrified gaze at the scene below before turning her attention back to the shaken child.
"Yova, who is that?" Megara inquired, her voice quivering with fear and confusion. The two women exchanged a somber look, silently grappling with the difficult task of explaining such a tragic situation to a five-year-old girl. How could they reveal that her mother had met her end on this very day, her birthday, at the hands of her own father? Or that her gentle uncle Gerold had been forced to confront this harrowing scene and return with a lifeless body? The heart-wrenching sobs of Morana, her mother's handmaiden, reached their ears as she knelt in anguish, tearing at her dress outside. "It's not something you need to worry about right now, my dear," the maid replied with a sorrowful smile, her eyes brimming with grief. Megara nodded weakly, finding some solace in her maid's words, and turned her attention back to her septa. Soon, Mother would return home, and the celebratory banquet would begin. Father had promised to arrive in secret, just as he had pledged, and allow her to ride upon his dragon, Caraxes. For now, Megara clung to the comfort of her Septha's smile, seeking refuge amidst an inexplicable tragedy on what should have been a joyous day.
Megara couldn't bear the thought of sitting still any longer. The allure of studying had faded, and after the Septa and maid became preoccupied, she seized the opportunity to make her escape. It was her birthday, and she believed she shouldn't be burdened with lessons on such a special day. Her tiny feet carried her down the winding castle halls until she paused by one of the doors, drawn by the sounds of heart-wrenching sobs. She recognized the voice instantly—it was Morana. Megara slowly pushed the door open and peeked into the room. Morana sat hunched on the floor, her once-blue dress now stained with blood, her disheveled hair a stark contrast to her usually neat appearance. Her red and puffy eyes bore witness to the torrent of tears she had shed. Gerold, Megara's cousin, knelt beside her, his own face contorted in anguish, his bronze clothing marred by crimson stains. "How a monster like that exists, I don't know," Morana lamented between sobs, " but I fear that he shall return and kill our sweet Meg as he did her mother."
Megara gasped involuntarily, the sound carrying pain and disbelief. The two adults turned their heads in fear, their eyes meeting the sorrowful gaze of the young princess of the Vale.
"What..." Megara whispered, her voice trembling with a mixture of pain and confusion. Her once-cheerful face now resembled that of a wounded doe, her innocence marred by the cruel reality of her mother's fate. In that moment, the weight of tragedy bore down on the young princess, robbing her of the joy that should have defined her special day.
Megara's sentence hung in the air, left incomplete as her breathing grew erratic, her chest heaving with the weight of an unbearable truth. It felt as though an unseen force were squeezing her heart, making it difficult to draw breath. Panic surged through her, driving her to action. With a desperate cry, she began to run, her voice echoing through the halls of the castle. "Mother! Mother! Where are you?" she shouted, her pleas echoing for all to hear. She ran, fueled by an unshakable belief that her mother couldn't truly be gone. After all, she had promised to bring home a stag for dinner.
Megara slammed open the imposing doors to her mother's chambers, her eyes scanning the room in a frantic search. What she saw shattered her world. There, upon the bronze bed, lay her mother's lifeless form, the once-playful blankets now stained with slowly spreading blood. "No, Mama, no!" Megara cried out in agony, rushing to her mother's side and enfolding the cold body in a desperate embrace. Her tears fell like raindrops, soaking her mother's lifeless form. She grabbed her mother's hand, lifting it to cup her own face as her mother had done so many times before. It was a horrifying sight for the young girl. Her mother's head was cracked open, her eyes wide and devoid of life, her mouth left agape as though she had her last words hanging on her lips, forever unspoken.
In that harrowing moment, Megara's world crumbled, and the innocence of her childhood was irrevocably lost. The unimaginable pain of losing her mother on her birthday was a cruel twist of fate that left her with a profound sense of grief and emptiness. Everyone stopped as they heard a loud shrilling scream, they said it shattered windows and that large gushes of windswept things away. people had to cover their ears from the shriek of a dragon. that is what they called it, the birth of a bronze dragon hatching from its egg.
Morana ran into the room Megara sobbed hard screaming and kicking to be let go"I want to die I want to die!" she cried when Morgana didn't release her the girl tried hitting herself "Megara be still please!" she choked tears falling down her face hard, Gerold rushed into the room, his heart aching for his young cousin. He gently but firmly took Megara into his arms, holding her close as her sobs wracked her fragile frame. His voice quivered with sorrow as he whispered words of comfort. "My sweet worrier," he murmured softly, "cry, cry all you want today, but tomorrow you will be brave. You will be our sweet Princess of Runestone." Megara, still consumed by grief, shook her head vehemently, her sobs intensifying. She leaned into Gerold, finding solace in his protective embrace.
"No! I... I don't wanna!" she cried out, her words broken by her overwhelming emotions. She fell upon herself, overwhelmed by the pain of her loss. Gerold held her steady, offering her the support she so desperately needed. "He killed my mama... why... why did he kill my mama?" Megara's voice quivered with the weight of the question. She sought answers that were too difficult for anyone to provide, especially to a child. The room remained silent, heavy with the burden of their shared grief, as the adults struggled to find the words to explain the inexplicable tragedy that had befallen their family.
Through their tear-filled eyes, Megara and Morana found solace in the simple act of holding hands. It was a fragile connection, a lifeline amidst the overwhelming grief that engulfed them both. Megara's heart ached, but for a brief moment, she could see the faintest smile on Morana's face, a glimmer of hope in their shared sorrow. But the respite was fleeting. Megara, still clutching Morana's hand, felt a surge of determination welling up within her. She thought of her mother, of the strength and resilience Rhea Royce had instilled in her.
"As the gods as my witnesses," Megara declared, her voice trembling with a newfound resolve, "I swear I'll kill him, I'll avenge her." Her words hung heavy in the air, a promise made in the depths of her grief. She then turned to Gerold, her cousin, and held his hands tightly. "They won't... won't see me cry again, cousin... never," she said, her voice faltering as she once more succumbed to tears. Morana's heart ached as she watched the transformation in Megara, the loss of innocence that came far too soon. Rhea had raised her daughter to be strong, independent, and smart, with a fierce determination to never be controlled by any man. Morana shared Rhea's dream, and now, with a heavy heart, she vowed to raise Megara as the Lady of Runestone that Rhea had always wanted.
For the moment, though, they would simply hold the crying girl in their loving arms, offering what comfort they could amid their shared sorrow.
