Fireborn

Prologue

"I am [Valaena Fireborn] of Old Valyria, and I will take what is mine. With fire and blood, I will take it."

I didn't remember my homeland nor had I stepped foot on Westerosi soil. I was born on Dragonstone in the midst of a raging summer storm. The following years in exile comprised of my brother ingraining one objective into me. Retake our father's throne and kill the usurpers.

After spending my entire life in another land, I was going back to Westeros. No, not going back. I couldn't go back to a place I didn't remember. Nonetheless, leather boots stood on a wooden deck destined for the North.

One of my dothrakhoyi joined me, posing as my escort. Kovarro spoke the Common Tongue and was loyal to me without a fault. My advisors, khalasar, and Unsullied remained in Mereen while the former slaves and masters formed a new government of their own which benefits all in Dragon's Bay.

Years of heartache were coming to fruition. Neither of my siblings were capable of seizing the Iron Throne. Viserys would have squandered whatever hold the Targaryen name still possessed. Daenerys would have been too soft, too kind to make difficult decisions. If a Targaryen was to sit the throne again, it had to be me. I was the only Targaryen left with the composition of a leader.

Daenerys was fortunate to die as a child. She wouldn't have known to defend herself when Viserys grew cruel. Death saved her from living in this world with our brother. A short childhood protected her from his attacks.

I had already spent several moons training in the yard with Ser Willem Darry when Viserys first tried to hit me. He tried several more times, his attempts gradually only occurred at night. The first night I slept with a dagger under my pillow halted his actions. He carried the scar from that night until the day he was killed by my husband.

I was lucky when it came to Khal Drogo. Viserys taught me to expect cruelty from men, but Drogo never beat nor raped me. The most feared Khal in Essos was kinder to me than the last of my kin. He chose me as his wife, his Khaleesi, and he cherished me for the rest of his life.

Drogo never raised his voice nor his hand towards me. He was a good father, husband, leader, and a fearsome warrior. He promised me Westeros. He vowed to tear down the walls of my enemies and give Rhaego the Iron Throne. If it wasn't for the maegi and traitor, we could have spent the rest of our lives on the Great Grass Sea.

The part of me who loved without abandon died with the last of my family. How could someone believe in love when they've only been rewarded with pain and heartache? After waking in the blood of my husband and child, love wasn't part of my life any longer. The devotion I once possessed hardened and festered until only vengeance was left.

The hole where my heart used to be never healed, but the years dulled the grief and the bells in my hair brought me comfort. When they ring in the wind, with the gait of my midnight, or a shake of my head, I imagine Drogo with our son in the night lands.

Rhaego would be nearly old enough to learn how to shoot from horseback now. Drogo was adamant we teach our son how to be a Khal from the time he could hold his own head. Shortly after he was running through the camp, Rhaego could hold an arakh and stand in the saddle. He could have been as ferocious a warrior and leader as his father if not more.

"Khaleesi?" Kovarro's deep voice pulled me out of my past and into the present.

"Yes, zhey qoy qoyi?" I turned away from the stern of the ship to face my companion. The setting sun behind him cast a soft glow on the crown of his ebony hair. His lips were taught and brows furrowed as he stood before me dressed in brown and gold leather.

"The ship is about to dock."

I nodded and led him to the cabin we had shared. Repacking our saddlebags was fast work as we left all of our belongings in them apart from what we needed during the voyage. The crew unloaded their fares as Kovarro and I retrieved our horses from the animal hold.

Moons at sea caused us to walk on dry land with shaky legs and a stumbling gait as we found an inn. Kovarro and I crossed a bridge into the northern side of White Harbor and left our horses in a stable. After unsaddling the horses, we brought our bags up to our room and found a table to eat at.

I was considerably more relaxed in White Harbor than I had been in many years. My entire life, I was the princess expected to behave like royalty until I was with the Dothraki. When Drogo died and I took control of the Khalasar, I had to be a queen. Now, I was just one more noblewoman traveling.

Despite twenty years with one goal in mind, Westeros didn't feel like home. I felt like a foreigner surrounded by men and women dressed in the Westerosi fashion. Kovarro and I may be dressed like them, but the material was constricting and difficult to move in. It hadn't even been a day, and I was already sick for home.

I missed my loose dresses. I missed wearing trousers. I missed the clay buildings of Mereen. I missed riding my midnight at the head of my khalasar. It will take longer than I'd like before I'm ready to summon my advisors and army to Dragonstone.

"I don't know how these people wear such tight clothing. Do you want to live here and rule these people?" Kovarro spoke in Dothraki while tugging at his shirt and shifting in his seat.

"It's my birthright." His question made me pause as I raised my spoon to my mouth.

"That wasn't the question. Do you want to be here?" He stopped adjusting his clothes and resumed eating his food.

"Ruling here is what I've always wanted. It's why I stayed in Mereen." I gave him the safe answer, the answer I'd rehearsed in my mind every hour of every day.

"This country smells like pig shit. How can they stand living in such cramped quarters? Don't they need space to breathe?" Kovarro had been with me since I married Drogo, he should be used to these conditions.

"This is what they've always known. To them, this is normal." This was normal to me as well, but that didn't mean I enjoyed the stench of the city.

"Is this the kind of life you want, Khaleesi? To be stuck in a crowded city that reeks of shit?" If I hadn't lost so much to reach this place, I never would have left Mereen.

"I've spent most of my life in crowded cities that reek of shit."

*Mirri Maz Duur drugged Drogo, Valaena, and Rhaego then Haggo killed Drogo and Rhaego in their sleep.

**The stern is the back of the ship.

[My] Timeline

Daenerys dies age 5

Valaena marries Drogo age 15

Viserys dies

Valaena gives birth to Rhaego age 16

Drogo and Rhaego die

Valaena becomes queen of Mereen age 18

Valaena is currently 20

A/N: This is the only chapter I've edited since I changed my writing style for Chapter 13. Chapters 1-12 are in more modern language. Sorry guys, I don't have the energy right now to go back and edit the whole thing.