Alicent Hightower raised a bastard - The Stranger's Child.
Except she didn't.
Naenyra looked nothing like the Targaryen beauty that her father expected. She was, as her mother always wished, a Hightower at heart, and how she looked only proved it...
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To anyone, claiming a dragon would feel like a death sentence, but crossing that courtyard with her head held high, and her hands fisted into the skirt of her dress, it felt anything but. Nyra knew that she needed to do this for her freedom, for her right to live the way she should have been allowed to for all these years. Her very name was at stake, the only thing that belonged solely to her, and she refused to have that taken away from her.
The small council, King, and her family made their way silently through the Keep and out into the courtyard. She had been allowed to roam this area, having known it well from most of the children spending their time there during the day to socialise. While she and Helaena tended to sit beneath a large oak tree, others would gather at the waterfall, and some dared their chances at the labyrinth that lay below.
It was wide enough that before her sat four full grown dragons, the largest of all being the one on the end. They were terrifying to witness, even more so as two tamers stood in front of each, just barely keeping them at bay as all eyes soon turned to the small girl.
The first two, she knew instantly, from the tales that her brothers had told her about Jaehaerys and Alysanne. The bronze one, the second largest of the group, was a fearsome thing with rows upon rows of sharp teeth. While his mouth was open, he didn't dare to make a move as golden eyes locked onto her. The one at his side, as silver as the moonlight, and impressive with her size was delicate, cautious with her gaze.
These were the mounts of the fourth King and his wife; highly regarded by the people of Westeros for their long reign. She knew that the dragons were bound to each other, that the love of their riders had cemented their own love for each other. So, it didn't feel right that Naenyra would try to mount it.
Next was one that was half the size of Vermithor but quick as a dart as their green eyes focused on her. She could see the ripple of their nostrils, the way their body shifted to raise themselves. She didn't know the name of this one, or if it had even been mounted before. It looked younger than the rest, most likely not having seen battle which wasn't a bad thing.
But the last, the one that spoke to her the most, was different to the others. His body wasn't as stocky as the others, leaner and thinner but it almost made him appear longer and taller. She could see that beneath the sun, his scales weren't a deep black but rather a bottle green. He reminded her of a beetle, the scales shifting from green to purple to red to blue but always remaining a hint of dark green. He was beautiful, stunning with luminous emerald green eyes that were reminiscent of her mother's dresses. Rows of black teeth lined his mouth with a baby pink tongue slithering inside; his spines rippled down his back with thin Castleton green skin, the horns glinting like onyx from his skull.
He unfurled his wings, daring to shake them off as she caught sight of the scars that lined him. He wasn't a new dragon, his years stretching ahead of him, perhaps even making him older than Vermithor or Vhagar. Nyra didn't wait for the others, pulling the hood from her head and shaking out her curls, she rushed across the courtyard. "Nira!" Alicent cried out.
