After enduring a loveless marriage for many years, the Rogue Prince was believed to be incapable of fathering a child with his Bronze Bitch. However, a miraculous event shatters this notion with the birth of Vhaela Targaryen. Raised in the confines...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Chapter Five: The Dragon Pit
Vhaela Targaryen
I wander aimlessly through the hallways of the red keep. Looking at all the walls that house artifacts and art along them. They are all massive in scale and it forces me to crane my neck up to view them in their entirety. With each step I take causes the end of my red and black dress to sway against the ground.
People and servants walk past me and stare at my silver hair. I don't let their piercing stares bother me as I pass them with a glowing smile on my lips. In the distance I then find the entrance to the throne room, and I make my way toward the entryway.
Ever since I had seen the giant sword-filled throne when I first arrived here, I have been wanting to see it again. The guards posted at the entrance take a quick glance my way and then they instantly move to open the door. With the creaking doors opening the magnificent throne is revealed.
My breath stills as my mouth fall slightly agape in amazement. My feet move closer to the throne that is made up of swords from the crown's enemies. With each step, I take the throne grows larger and larger in size.
It towers high almost reaching the vast celling with the tip of the blades. My mouth slightly parts at the sheer number that rest on the surrounding chair. It would take me days to sit and count them all. Perhaps even a fortnight.
I wander closer toward the steps of the throne and reach my hand touching the now dull blades. I run my fingers along the length of the blade and my eyes shine with gleam. A dragon had made this very thing. The very thing I was now touching.
It causes my wide smile to grow even more than I thought capable. With a small prick to my finger at the tip of the blade I then focus my attention to the throne itself. I cautiously look around the room taking note of the emptiness.
Slowly I make my way up the steps that are surrounded by various enemy swords. I reach the last step and come to a halt as I stare at the vast throne. I stand there debating on taking a step further and sitting on the throne.
However, a familiar voice begins to echo throughout the walls of the throne room. My eyes widen in realization, and I race down the steps with a smile on my face at the sound of my father's voice.
In the distance, I hear him say "Ao drējī jāhor dīnagon zirȳla?" (You truly are going to marry him)
I don't fully understand everything he says but from the tone of his voice, I can tell he is upset at the person he is talking to. My eyes narrow at the thought of someone upsetting my father. So, in a curious effort I start to make my way around the throne and head toward my father's voice.
Another soft voice responds to him "Lo ao emagon nykeā rūsIr bona pār gaomagon mirros bē ziry kēpus." (If you have an issue with that then do something about it uncle)
