The Hounds Dragon ***Sandor Clegane***

Visenya

NAME DAY

                      A silver haired woman in pain, gripping the Midwifes hand with her right and her left on top of her swollen belly. Her Mad husband was running up the stairs, he and his wife had begun to drift and ignore each other, but he has been waiting for these moments for months, what felt like years for him. Her screams echo through the halls of the Red Keep, shaking the dragon skulls all the way in the cellar. This only made the king climb the steps faster, almost dropping the discovery he had made earlier that day, in the deepest part of the castle. The king found an egg, a heavy, green egg, nearing the size of his torso.  He reached the end of the hallway, about to reach the door that holds his wife and nearly born child. He hoped for a girl, he didn't want a boy. Rhaeghar had spoiled wanting boys for him. His wife's screams stopped, and he paused, not wanting to open the door anymore. Was his child dead? Was his wife dead? Both? No, it was neither because he heard loud but delicate high-pitched cries of a baby, and sobbing from his wife. He bursts into the large chamber and the Wet nurses and midwives surround the baby, they all feared the king wanted a boy, and wouldn't want the baby his wife spent hours upon hours pushing out. 

"Your Grace..." The Maester says to The Mad King. The Maester is tired, he hasn't left this room, his old voice even more faded. He is trying not to let the King see his child and this is frustrating him. He looks for a place to set the dragon egg and figured the fireplace would be a nice and warm place for this possibly barren egg. 

"Let me see the child." He demands, quiet as he doesn't want to wake the baby that just stopped crying it's poor little brains out. 

He walks toward the midwife holding the child in a fur blanket, bouncing the babe trying to keep it quiet in the temperamental Kings' presence. She turns around slowly to face the King, "Your Grace, I-"

She gets cut off by the loud man, he lifts the blanket covering the child, "A girl." He's beaming and everyone stares confused. His wife's loud sobbing suddenly stops, and she stares at her husband. She thought he was going to hurl the girl off of the highest point of the keep, but instead he smiles and brings the babe close to his chest. Not minding the grime that covers her. The wet nurses try to take the child, wanting to bathe her. The king instead walks to the tiny bucket of a basin himself, lowering his newborn into it, making sure her face doesn't go under the water. The shock on everyone's face was definitely there, but he didn't seem to notice all the jaws on the floor. He was too concentrated on cleaning his newborn girl. He didn't do this with his first child, his heir, his son... He merely never wanted to be in the same room with that loud boy more than five minutes. He lifted the soft clean babe out of the basin and wrapped the blanket around her before walking over to the fire he stuck the egg in and stares while the fragile thing sleeps in his arms. He looks at away from the smoldering egg for a moment to stare at his new prized possession. And he hears a pop, he looks back at the flames and the egg has fallen to it's side. CRACK. The King stumbled back a few steps bringing his child closer, he then realizes the barren egg he found earlier was hatching, this was his gift to his daughter. He secretly wanted her to someday take the iron throne from her brother with this gift. He wanted her to have power. He's getting his wish. He thanks the old gods and the new. A screech comes from the fire, and he begins to hide his daughter, he then realizes he needed this thing to be loyal to her. He brought his daughter closer to the flames, His wife's cries begin again, almost pleading him not to let her any closer. He didn't care, he knew she wouldn't burn.  He watches as the head and long neck of a dragon come out of the flames, the dragon already bigger than the babe. The kings' breath hitches as the dragon reaches more of it's body out of the fire to get a better look at the babe.  The dragon does nothing but muzzle it's big face against the babe. He sighs in relief and the dragon climbs onto his shoulder. He knew this dragon would be big. This egg forgotten much longer than four hundred years, this dragon would be the size of Vhagar, surely. Now he knew what to name his daughter... Visenya.