Daenora, though a Velaryon in name, was born from seeds so tainted that even the blood of the dragon could not fully cleanse them.
As the issue of the affair of Rhaenyra Targaryen and Criston Cole she is the heir of a twisted legacy - of everything...
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CHAPTER 9 - BLAZING MEMORIES -
124 AC
Nothing but darkness surrounded Daenora. Icy winds came her way and carried floods of cold rain directly in her face. The drops met her skin like blades of valyrian steel, leaving a painful ache on her cheeks. Her hands closed tighter around the familiar reigns of Tyraxes in order of not being blown out of her saddle by the storm. In the distance, she could perceive a lunatic laugh, followed by a rumbling thunder. Dany didn't know where it came from or to whom the crazy laughter belonged to, but she felt the panic about it filling up her chest like sand until there was no space for any air left that could fill her lungs. A liquid ran down her cheeks, drawing cold lines across her face. She wasn't sure whether it was the storm, pouring over her like from a thousand buckets, or a river of crimson blood.
In a mere second the darkness faded away, yielding to bright sunlight. Dany was blinded for a few moments, since her eyes needed to adjust to the sudden change of lighting. She blinked so quickly as if she was going to win a competition with it. Gradually, the world around her became clearer. She realised the scales of the dragon she was sitting on were not red and gold but as white as the clouds that filled the skies beneath them.
There was not much time to wonder about her dragon's odd colouring which did not fit the one of Tyraxes at all, however. A grand green beast emerged from the sea of clouds. Its enormous mouth opened as widely as the doors to the throne room did every time the King entered. Daenora had no time to react when its maw closed around her and her dragon, darkness swallowing everything once again.
In the light of dawn, she shot straight up in her bed, her breathing a mixture of panting and gasps for air. While trying to comprehend what had just happened, Daenora ran a hand through her hair. It tamed the curls that lay messy and almost dragonlike wildly on her head. "Seven hells," she murmured between her heavy breaths.
Dany had hated dreaming of such horrid things since she was a little girl. These nightmares would always feel too real to differentiate them from reality. One of her first memories had been a dream at the age of four, in which a dragon with golden scales, shining as bright as the sun, had roasted her until nothing but ashes had been left. It had taken Daenora three years to overbear her fear of the dragon that kept the little princess awake all night, for she feared to find herself in its blaze once again. It was very unfortunate that this dragon had been similar to her uncle's, Sunfyre, whom she would therefore see every lesson in the Dragonpit.
Over the years Dany had realised that distraction worked best to calm herself after waking from a nightmare. So, she would count through the Targaryen monarchs since Aegon the Conqueror had united the Seven Kingdoms under the banner of the red dragon until Daenora reached her grandsire. Sometimes she would even include Rhaenyra and herself, even though neither had sat the Iron Throne yet.
However, according to the laws of the realm, they would someday, unless the King miraculously decided to change the succession after all these years as many lords at court wished for it to happen. Dany supposed they saw either a threat in a female ruler at the head of Westeros or in her mother's future King Consort, Daemon Targaryen, the so called 'Rogue Prince', who did not have the best reputation among the lords of the realm. But did her uncle Aegon have a better reputation that made him seem like the better option?
