I. ARCHMAESTER MARWYN:
If the Gods flipped a coin on her genesis,
teetering between madness or greatness...
it shall get neither.
They'll get dragons revenge.
This will not be the origins of another glorious ancestor with whom Princess Shaena shares a bloodline. At this exact moment in the house of the dragon, it is not so much of a home anymore. Only a short time ago, Summerhall had taken it's share of silver-tressed royals in a tragedy and dwindled the might of the house whose stronghold has always been their numbers, and how united they chose to be with them. Beyond their near extinction — there has not been a winged beast alive taking flight above the ghastly red castle in nearly a century. It does not matter, truly, what the Targaryens used to be once; it is far too long ago for anyone alive to care for. The truth of it is simple to her: House Targaryen is the ruling house of Seven Kingdoms, the house that hails their three-headed dragon sigil mightily above all and any, without any dragons to show for it.
The power they wield is all wrong.
She has grown tired of being powerful in the wrong way.
(She cannot be the only one to see the truth of it all, can she? Can no one else see what she sees? They have no power to them anymore. Their existence, lack of dragons, and her king fathers' disposition invokes a challenge Shaena knows her family will not survive...)
The whole of court knows Princess Shaena might be the most decent thing that's come from the Targaryens in a long while. Shaena wishes she could do something honorable with it... Her mother tells her their family is from the same flame as Old Valyria but in this new age, they each have different ways to burn.
II. 𝖉𝖗𝖆𝖌𝖔𝖓𝖘
𝖉𝖗𝖆𝖌𝖔𝖓𝖘
𝖉𝖗𝖆𝖌𝖔𝖓𝖘
𝖉𝖗𝖆𝖌𝖔𝖓𝖘
𝖉𝖗𝖆𝖌𝖔𝖓𝖘
The princess burns in her own way, with her own fire. Her blood runs warmer than any flame and travels onto those she surrounds herself with but there are still days when she whispers back to the ire and assures they'll get their due. Her flame is almost enough to make her mother smile. To pacify her paranoid father when he's not convinced the realm has turned her against him. Almost enough to endure Rhaegar, whose company bestows a particular unhappiness that suffocates her with the reality of how abysmal being a Targaryen woman truly is. On Shaena's worst days, she can feel the ghosts of her female ancestors weighing down the nape of her neck — mayhaps they pray for better end for her, too.
III. 𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖗𝖆𝖕𝖎𝖘𝖙
𝖒𝖔𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖗
𝖒𝖆𝖎𝖉
𝖓𝖞𝖒𝖕𝖍
𝖛𝖎𝖗𝖌𝖎𝖓
The crux of it all is this: Shaena Targaryen's long awaited freedom comes at the price of her family's life. Her title. Her home. Her children and her young siblings. All gone. Shaena cannot even begun to make sense of how much it will never be worth it. Because she should know better — especially when the Usurper Kings' Hand tells Shaena the cost of her survival is conditional upon her being wed. Eddard Stark looks at his new bride like her company bestows a feeling onto him that might suffocate her... This time however, Shaena will learn how to breath through it. The ancient blood in her capillaries may still ache to kindle, but no longer does it whisper brutal, vengeful oaths in her ears. In Winterfell, she is Lady of the North. Shaena is warm, and that warmth is finally her in a way she needn't atone for.
I swear I'll surive every fire after this
Start from the beginning
