Valyria Targaryen (Daemon Targaryen ff)

Sisters

The skies were filled with soft white clouds shaping into its own maze while the warm sun left an orange glow to the lands below. I smiled, feeling the wind kissing up the exposed skin of my dress. Turning to the right, my back laid flat against the warm scales as the only thing filling my ears were vibrating purrs. I was written in history as the youngest bareback dragon rider at the age of six long ago. I was now ten and five.

As my head twisted left the yellow scaled beauty known as Syrax flew even with Rhaenyra Targaryen on her back. My only sister. The youngest Targaryen. Flying side by side you could see just how much larger my own Syren was.

Syren was known as one of the largest oldest dragons alive alongside Meleys the Red Queen and Caraxes the Blood Wyrm. Vermithor and Vhagar still held their higher spots somewhere in the distant lands. Her mother was unknown, but everyone knew the father of Syren. With dragon fire as dark as shadows it was no question Balerion the Black Dread was responsible. Her scales were as white as the northern snow while her wings and tail were faded black as a mark of the she-dragon's father. Her blackened horns grew in the shape of a jagged crown around her temples with smaller spikes trailing down her backside to the tip of her tail. I could have my father tell the story a hundred times over.

"With menacingly red eyes and teeth as long as blades no one dared to claim her for as long as she was born. She was intriguingly smart and placed fear on everyone. Until one day in the year 94ac. The birth of you, Valyria Targaryen. The night was long yet when you were... pulled from your mother and a white haired golden eyed babe cried out the world turned over. The moment your mother walked outside of Dragonstone to show her princess her home. You did not smile or laugh as expected. No. Not until the grounds shook viciously and Aemma's sight followed the purrs vibrating the castle walls, she was met with the same eyes of Syren the Black Dread's daughter. She was too scared to move. Frozen stiff. Syren inched herself forward until she was so close that Aemma could smell animal's flesh from her recent meal on her teeth. Aemma closed her eyes preparing for her life to end but when she heard your beautiful laugh they opened to find that Syren laid her head to the ground showing submission. She knew that this dragon had chosen her babe. The Black Crown chose you. You were always meant for something bigger than the horrific Game of Thrones." He would tell me like it was the last thing I would hear.

Soaring the skies is one of the few freedoms I managed to convince our mother and father to let us have. Ever since we were born, we were sheltered for being princesses. Yet, I am a Targaryen after all. I do not do so well with rules. My sister Nyra is too naive and too pure for the troubles created in the common streets. Living in the Red Keep for so long my curiosity became too strong leading me to learn the secret passageways that were never spoken of. I had never risked my maidenhood for any man. Although, that is not to say I did not have my fun.

"I believe it is time to fly home." I directed to Syren in our native tongue. High Valyrian was spoken by very few in this time. It was my uncle who began to teach me at a young age.

Only a couple flaps of her wings and we were on our way towards Kings Landing. Syrax and Nyra flew around and above creating circles in protest before Syren landed in the front of the Dragon Pit gates. Rubble fell from the bricks as her claws gripped the grounds. Leaning forward I slid off the side with ease. She softly groaned looking into my eyes and sniffing my figure. "I am fine as always. You are far too protective." I spoke with ease, smiling before resting my hand on the side of her snout.

"I was not ready to return home sister." I hear with a tone of annoyance from the side. Lovely lavender eyes brightened in the sunlight looking at me with unamusement.

"You are never ready to return. Our dragons are not our slaves, Rhaenyra. They were not born for our entertainment." Syren groaned as I spoke, making Nyra jump in surprise before sticking her tongue out to the white scaled dragon. "You stepped on my words a little there." I whispered. Looking to her eyes they were red as fire while Syren moaned again in response.

We could hear the commands the dragon pit keepers were spouting to Syrax as they led the dragon into its cave. I had refused to lock Syren in the dragon pit with chains like some dog. We both shared respect... and the nervousness of smaller spaces. Furthermore I do not believe the keepers would test Syren as everyone still drenched in fear whenever she was around. Otherwise we always knew when the other was needed. Our connection was deeper than any I had seen or read about. One last look at each other and she disappeared into the clouds with a flap of her wings.

"When will you stop treating every moment as a lesson to be taught?" Rhaenyra sighed. I knew she hated it but she needed to learn. A moment of pause had passed before I looked at her, tilting my head.

"Remember when we were younger in age and spoke tales of being the Queen's Visenya and Rhaenys reborn?" Stopping in her tracks she took a deep breath as I raised my brows to her. "Come along little sister." She reached intertwining herself with my arm while we headed for her carriage. I leaned my head to hers as she was shorter than myself and felt at ease.

"Welcome back, Princesses. I trust the rides were pleasant." Ser Harrold Westerling greeted sitting atop his horse. A sarcastic smile plastered to his face as we walked by.

"Try not to look too relieved, Ser." I simply stated. It earned me an elbow to my ribs from my sister as she smiled back to him.

"The ride was more than pleasant, Ser Harrold." Rhaenyra politely spoke. He had been a knight of the Kingsguard before our time and had since been assigned to Nyra as a sworn shield. She looked to him like a father since ours never really knew how to love a daughter. For as long as possible I had refused a guard for I could protect myself just fine. No one knew I had a hidden blade beneath my dress. Annoyingly for me my father continues to push the subject whenever possible.

"I am relieved. Every time that golden beast and white beast brings you two back unspoiled, it saves my head from a spike." He grumbled as I pulled my sister forward only to be met by her red-headed friend on the steps of the carriage. I gently slid Rhaenyra's hand from my arm as she stepped closer.

"Syrax is growing quickly. She'll soon be as large as Syren." She smiled at me but my expression did not change. A look as cold as ice.

"That's almost large enough to saddle two."

"I believe I'm quite content as a spectator, thank you." She giggled at Nyra. I could see how my sister admired the girl but never understood why. Her dress ruffled, turning to face me. "Valyria. Always a warmth within your presence."

"Alicent."

The air was thick with tension. Nyra knew my feelings towards the Hightower girl. She was sly hiding who she really was under the mask of kindness. Everyone in the Kingdom had fallen for it. Not me. Alicent gave me a bad feeling any time she was around me.

"Join us sis-"

"I will take my horse." I insisted with no rejection before walking off to where they held her. I could hear the questioning voices behind me but shook it from my head. Taking a deep breath my fingers found their way to my red jeweled rings twisting them anxiously. Throwing one leg over the saddle I trotted to Ser Harrold without another glance to that damned carriage.