Valyria Targaryen (Daemon Targaryen ff)

The Beginning

The year is 94ac.

Minutes felt like hours. Hours felt like days. The people were restless. The skies were clear for the full moon to shine across the open seas. Every few minutes you could hear the waves slamming against the rocks of Dragonstone. The black stone walls glistened from the candles lit in various areas of the castle. The only thing left is the horrified screams of a mother giving birth.

Sweat dripped from her forehead as the sheets stuck to her skin. Handmaidens overwhelmed the woman as they were solely focused on the babe. The father of this child only paced the room praying for a boy. Yet the woman was simply praying for her prince or princess to be healthy. To live.

    The fighting ceased as the final moments had passed and a weight had been lifted off of her body. Deeply exhaling she slouched her head against the pillow. It wasn't until she saw the horrified faces that her heart began to race.

    "What? What has happened?" She questioned as everyone glanced at each other. Her heart began pounding with fear. Her face contorted into confusion. "Where is my child? Why don't I hear crying?" Tensions became thick. They were unsure of how to word that her firstborn child was in fact not a child. She had delivered a white dragon egg. To their knowledge the child was dead based on past written and oral histories. Her eyes, now burning with more tears, darted around viciously as to why no one was answering her. "Viserys please... I'm scared." She cried out. Her voice now strained.

    Viserys Targaryen. A smile was the only thing plastered onto his face, unable to think of his own lady wife. "Aemma... my love... this is perfect." Placing his hand in hers as he lowered to his knee beside the bed. "A true dragonborn Targaryen."

    "What..." She gasped.

    The muddled maester turns around with the dragon egg, now cleaned, hesitantly handing it to Viserys. The father held it tightly between Aemma and himself as if it would disappear in a blink of an eye. It had been over a century since the last dragonborn birth. It held more power than a trueborn Targaryen. His mind raddled with thoughts. He was ready to speak volumes of his new prized possession. Yet Aemma was terrified. Her skin itched at the thought. It may have been over a century since the last, but the last did not turn to their favor.

    "We will tell no one."

    "Aemma-"

    "No! No one will know!" She demanded as he jerked his head from the sudden burst. Viserys only exhaled before standing up to hand the maester his newborn egg.

    "Give us a moment. Ta-"

"My Lord... but the Lady Aem-" The handmaiden was harshly interrupted by Viserys' sharp eyes.

"Take this to our hot stones. Have extra guards. You tell no one the reason. Come to me and only me when the egg has hatched." He commanded, narrowing his sights, and everyone did as so. The doors were softly closed behind them while Aemma struggled to sit herself up in the bed.

"I will not have our child hunted like a common animal. I will not have our child murdered before we could see its first name day. Viserys, promise me. I need you to promise me that we will keep the knowledge hidden. Always." She spat trying to catch her breath.

"The child will be a boy. And he will be the greatest of us all. This is the dream I had been speaking of. The Song of Ice and Fire. We cannot change destiny."

"Our childs destiny will stay hidden for as long as I live."

The expression he held was dangerous. She knew he would stop at nothing. With that there was no more to speak of. Viserys had stormed through the doors where handmaidens patiently waited at a distance. He knew she was right. But his need for a boy was too strong. It clouded his mind and judgment.

When a fortnight passed and that egg hatched, Viserys was the first to see. It was not a boy he saw. It was a girl. With that, the secret became much easier for him to hide as the only thing he yearned for... was a boy.

    In the year 101ac Viserys Targaryen became King Viserys of House Targaryen. The first of his name. King of the Andals, and the Rhoynar, and the First Men. Lord of the Seven Kingdoms. His word was now truth and law.

It is now the ninth year of King Viserys I Targaryen's reign.