Dragons Fight, Little Light

Chapter 1

Eraena

"It smells like shite," The girl hears her Father say from a distance. She was still perched atop her dragon, and she had this need— the urge to fly away once more. "Looks like it too," she said, and it was not supposed to be heard, but Daemon chuckled at her. She finally let go of the ropes of her saddle and was assisted to the ground. Even Alina, her dragon, grumbled in distaste as she was to stay in the small pits of Kingslanding. "Lykiri, Alina, lykiri." Eraena mumbled against her snout, pressing her lips upon the scales. "Tala, your brothers are waiting," Her Father said as he approached her. "When are we to leave?" She asked as she took off her gloves; she heard her Mother snort.

"We've only just arrived, my love," Eraena turned to her, Silver hair shining upon the capitol sun, pale skin looking even paler against her black dress, figure lithe, wide purple eyes crinkling as she laughed at her. Eraena could not help but compare herself to what her Mother looked like once more. Where her Mother was light, she was dark; where she was true, Eraena was not. Where silver hair was supposed to grow, there were dark locks. Amethyst eyes that shone brightly turned to obsidian. Features of a doe had turned to look like its prey.

Eraena scowled. Now she was subjected to more talk as they returned to this wasteland. "Stop scowling," Jacaerys said, and the girl rolled her eyes. "I will do as I please, brother; I do not stop you from expressing yourself. Why must you stop me?" She questioned and placed a pillow upon her lap. The wheelhouse housed five of them: Rhaenyra and her husband, along with her three elder children. The three watched as the twins started to argue. A knowing smile came along the eldest Targaryen, but his wife sighed, growing tired of watching and hearing the two argue for the past six and ten years.

"Because you look ghastly when you scowl, do you wish for them to see the once beautiful and renowned princess, the pearl of the realm, look like a witch ready to cast them with a spell?" Eraena's eyes widened upon her brother's words. She had no come back to defend herself, no insult to throw at her brother, so she punched his arm in frustration. Jacaerys howled and glared at his sister, ready to retaliate with another insult. "You two, enough roughhousing!" Their Mother chastised them before he could even open his mouth.

"Jace called me a witch! I was only defending myself, Mother!" Eraena reasoned. "Be that as it may, a princess does not inflict harm to those who give her petty and untrue insults," The girl's shoulders deflated, and she could see from the side of her eye the smirk on her brother's lips. "Your mother is right; when an insult is levied at you, you must not resort to violence," Eraena stared oddly at her Father, "You resort to violence all the time!" She argued, and Rhaenyra turned to her husband with a small smile on her lips. "Well," He said and thought for a moment. "Best armor up, Jacaerys, if you plan to throw more insults at your sister." The younger prince rolled his copper eyes and turned to the slats of the wheelhouse that revealed the city.

When they arrived in the keep, only one thing was shared amongst the family. Disgust. It seemed that in the nine years, it was not only the children that had been subjected to change but also the keep. Eraena traced the stitching of her dress as she looked around the castle they once called home. "It's... clean," she says, trying to find a positive. "Do not lie to yourself, daughter." Her Father bit in ancient tongue, making her bite down on her cheeks. "How could they let this happen?" Rhaenyra whispered, her eyes roaming around the room. "Why is there a seven-pointed star here? Have they turned the keep into a sept?" Jacaerys asked as he eyed the figure hanging above them. "I would say it is nice to be home, but I scarcely recognize it," Their Mother said in disbelief, her hand resting on her swelling bump. "Hm," her husband hummed and stepped further into the keep.

Erarna turned to Jacaerys, tugging their younger brother along. "Where are you two going?" She asked, "Tiltyard, care to join, sister?" Eraena made a face of contempt, making Jace chuckle, and hurriedly pulled our brother away. "Come, let us visit your grandsire," Rhaenyra called and led out her hand for her daughter to take. Eraena chewed on her lip as they passed hallway upon hallway. It was the same as she remembered, yet at the same time, it was not. How can something so familiar be so strange at the same time? As they entered the room, Eraena was appalled at how they had left it unclean and how they had let it dust away. The figurines that her grandsire once cherished were now filled with cobwebs. She turned to her Mother, the disgust on her face unfading.