Baelon II Velaryon is the son of Rhaenyra Targaryen. Just like his mother he was a strong willed dragon rider. Built for the clouds and forged for fire. He was meant for greatness. But the legacy of his family weighed heavily on his shoulders.
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Kingslanding.
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Large wooden carriages rattle harshly against the stone-covered ground, causing the carriage to rock unevenly. The scenery constantly changing. Birds softly rattled the carriage as they flew past. Rhaenyra stared out of the small window, her heart thumping loudly, her blood rushing in her ears.
This was her home and she couldn't recognize it. She felt like a stranger, staring up at the cold castle walls.
The carriage suddenly slows, and a large voice bombs, startling her out of her thoughts. "All hail Rhaenyra of House Targaryen, Princess of Dragonstone, heir to the Iron Throne, and her royal consort, Prince Daemon Targaryen." a Royal attendant announces.
The door opens and a hand appears, offering it to the princess, the kingdom's heir.
Rhaenyra gives herself a few moments to collect herself, before reaching over to grasp the hand.
....
The skies were clear as a large ship sails peacefully across the narrow sea, the waves softly rattled against the sturdy wood. The sides were covered with large indents and holes, worn from battle. The boat carried a large flag, proudly representing its house.
House Velaryon.
At the head of the boat was Baelon. No longer was the kind prince, but a man hardened by battle.
His once long curly hair, just barely curled over his ears, his face covered in cuts and faded bruises. There was a razor-sharpness in his gaze, the discoloration more prominent. A white strand curled over his brow, he was a harder version of himself from three years ago.
"Did you send for her?" A voice asks from behind, it is filled with a thick rich accent, unknown.
Baelon turns and he meets his best mate's gaze. Lord Royce, Reckon Royce, the young brother of the late Rhea Royce. He was handsome and an amazing swordsman. He was the heir of Runestone.
He stood proudly, with dark locks, which were slicked back. His dark eyes blacken and unlike those of his house. He was the black sheep, but the proud heir. A swordsman, who fought mightily beside his best friend, Baelon.
"Arianne is a stubborn woman, she doesn't like to take commands, but she has promised to make an attempt." Baelon states, making Reckon laugh, "That definitely sounds like her." Reckon says
Baelon turns to Reckon. "I shouldn't go either, I believe it for the best." Baelon states, Reckon scoffs, "Stop being a little cunt, I have never known you to be a coward, even when it came to King and Queens, you are going to Kingslanding. Both you and your wife. Your mother needs this, she needs you to reinforce her claim." Reckon says
