𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐎𝐍 𝐌𝐀𝐃𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐒 , 𝗆𝖺𝖾𝗀𝗈𝗋 𝗍𝖺𝗋𝗀𝖺𝗋𝗒𝖾𝗇

𝒐𝒏𝒆

It was a rare moment to see them hugging, especialy the young and violent Prince Maegor. She stood there, in the unfinished halls of the Red Keep, afraid that the coldness of the world would eat her alive, but, there he was, her half-brother, her sword, her beloved Maegor, who she had grown to love so much, one could think that they were in love, but alas, they were but two young children, of the age of nine summers.

Daenys had loved the both of her brothers equally, but with Maegor she felt at peace, as much as she could, while her mother raged and burned all of the dornish castles, in revenge for the mother of Aenys, the Queen Rhaenys Targaryen, her dearest friend, and a rumored paramour.

The daughter of the Queen Rhaena the Vengeful, and the King Aegon the Conqueror, was a strange and delicate thing, both soft as a dove, and as wild as a fox. She was made of an eternity made flame, her heart was lost, long ago, to the mummers and poets that would dare come near her, singing and telling of her mother, of her beauty, of her greatness, of her fame, and of her both, kind and sour heart.

She was said to have always possessed a pretty face, and that was a truth, but she wasn't the greatest of beauties, like her mother Rhaena, and her lady aunt, Rhaenys. It was her kindness, and a somewhat madness that she had, burried deep within her heart. It was, perhaps, a tiny bit of added sugar to the cake, that she had the same features as the rest of her royal, and most beloved family, the burning House of the Dragon.

The sweet little Spring child, Daenys the Purest Melody, had the lively, but dark, amethyst coloured eyes, that looked almost black in the darkness. Her hair was one of the things that she loved the most about herself, as she kept it long, and braided the upper parts, leaving the long, waves of white snow to flow down her back, like a frozen river. Her pale skin, although she was young, was always decorated with simple jewerly, mostly silver and diamonds, and her cheeks had soft, childish aspect, as they had hints of the kisses of the Fourtheen Flames within them.

"Are you alright, sweet little melody?" Maegor whispered to her, as he rubed his hand up and down her back, a soft, pure look of caringness in his eyes. Daenys did not answer him, right away, at the least, but, she gave him a small nod, which he felt in his chest. He loved his pure, and fiesty sister untill the end of the world, and would walk throught the every green field of the earth, if it meant saving her from the darkness and cruellity of the wretched world that they lived in.

He would burn the world to keep her innocence, and she would keep his flames lighted up, if it meant that Maegor and Daenys could be together, untill eternity parts their ways, and untill the long-lasting ages of time, and of their father, are gone.

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𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐆𝐄𝐒 𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐍𝐄𝐃 the tales of the Old Valyria into but a myth of a great empire, but, they will always be beautiful. Their gods died, as did most of their dragons, and their people. Still, a certain amount of people with the blood of Old Valyria lived in the known world, and a certain family with those of Valyrian blood were living, breeding, and rulling, over all of Westeros. The names of their great founders, long gone within the pages of the ancient books, but the founders of the dynasty were well-written, and many a men knew of their tale.

Visenya, Aegon, Rhaenys, and Rhaena. The names of the four Conquerors that had fought against the Kings, and Princes, and Princesses, all over the Seven Kingdoms, but had succeeded into conquering only six of them, while the most cunning, tricky, and snake-like of them, the Kingdom of Dorne, remained independent. The Princess of the House Martell, the Old Toad of Dorne, the Queen Rhaena hailed her, after she, and her house had killed the Queen Rhaenys. And her beloved dragon, Meraxes.

Daenys remembered of the way her mother would cry, after she gathered that the Queen Visenya ordered that the body, or the head, she did not care which one, of Meraxes be brought to the Red Keep ( the castle of the city named King's Landing, once known as the Aegonsfort ) , and given to the dungeons, for the memory of the brave Queen, and her brave dragon.

"Meleys, the Valyrian goddess of love, and fertility, the people of Valea and the Westerosi, had hailed my late lady mother as the reincarnation of the said goddess, for her beauty was such a  grace to them, none was able to swear away from its wroth."Daenys spoke in the language of the perfect Valyrian, the language of her ancestors. She liked their gods, and so, she studied them, and she believed in them. She even dared to pray to them.

The Princess Daenys Targaryen, the seed of Aegon the Conqueror, the blood of Old Valyria, had followed the steps of her ancient ancestors, whom names had long turned to ash and dust inbetween the pages of the scrolls, and prayed, and believed in their gods, following their custom, and living with their traditions.

Because, Daenys the Mad Princess, became alive, and destined to be born on the same day, or as some sources say, on the same night, as the hour that Daenys the Dreamer foresaw the destruction of her friends, and the Freehold of Old Valyria, and the rise of her pure, Valyrian House, the Rise of the Dragon's Brood. And it all began with the Valean Princess named after a Targaryen Lady, and her love with a Targaryen Lord. And from them, came the Princess that was promised.

The Princess that was promised, not to the men and women of the Realm, but to the gods, the Queen of Grief and Agony, the daughter of Rhaena the Vengeful. Daenys the Mad, the doom of men, and the rise of dragons.