𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑳𝑨𝑽𝑬𝑵𝑫𝑬𝑹 𝑰𝑵 𝑯𝑬𝑹 𝑬𝒀𝑬𝑺,
𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐎𝐍
" Wed her to me. "
" What? "
" When I offered up my crown, you said I could have anything. I want Daenera. I want to love her the way she loves me - the way we've alw...
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IT TWAS NOW THE YEAR 109 AC, two years after the birth of Aegon Targaryen — second of his name, three years after the wedding of Alicent Hightower and Viserys Targaryen the first.
The wings of Wyvern thrashed against the voluminous waves of the Narrow Sea hitting his under legs as a roar escaped the large adult dragon. Daenera's eyes scanned across the crystal blue water, fish being shown as they jumped in surprise.
Daenera was late — as she usually was. But only this time, she had a purpose. That being to anger her father and Alicent. Neither Rhaenyra nor Daenera had a stable relationship with their father anymore. With it being passed three years since the announcement of his wed to Alicent, the sisters still held resentment.
Wyvern's padded forepaw's landed heavily onto the ground of the Dragonpit, shaking the dusted remanence of the dirt. Daenera let out a huff, sliding down the redden wings from her dragon's back, giving him a chaste pat alongside his scales.
Her footsteps crumbled against the ground each step she took towards the awaiting carriage. The empty thing sat lonesome, freshly prepared for the princess to take a ride to her father's hunt of the year. She dreaded the idea of traveling with the companionship of Alicent and her father but knowing Rhaenyra would be present — made the situation not so horrid.
"Princess." Ser Benton took a bow, a shimmering smirk formed onto his stubbled face. Daenera gave a look to the knight, who was named her sworn protector months ago. The two entered the caravan, the silence being immediate. Benton had noticed slowly how Daenera lost her sense of outspoken bursts. It irked him in the slightest. Benton was a friend to Daenera, her only friend — at that. The marriage between Alicent and Viserys did not only cause Rhaenyra to lose a friendship, but as well as Daenera. Marianna had not spared an utter of her words since the wedding. Daenera struggled to maintain their friendship at the start, cowering her way to finally giving up on the pathetic tries she endured.
The ride to the King's lunch in for the hunt was short, perking a glint in Daenera's mood more. Her words may have become less over the years, but her anger was still very much present. She felt as though she was now a loose cannon — prepared to spark off at any giving moment.
Daenera entered the dining room of the Red Keep, her hefty leathered heeled boots clanking against the stones. Ser Benton stood a tall by her side, looking out over the many lords and knights that were held in the room. Silence crossed over the voices of the men, all bowing to the princess as she cowered to the food table. Her fingers picked up a single grape, sliding it through her lips to chew on the fruit.
"Daenera," Viserys murmured her name, standing alongside her and Benton. "Where have you been?"
"With Wyvern." She said — her words staying short. She was in no agog of a conversation.
