The House of the Dragon was devastated after the death of Lucerya Velaryon. Unbeknownst to them, the girl was reborn in a galaxy far, far away. Now the Force brings House Targayen, and those from the times of the Clone Wars, and a few from the futur...
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𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 000 | the sorrow
━━━━━━━━━
Death, a friend, circled House Targaryen like a shadow that refused to dissipate. It wasn't a stranger; rather, it was that old friend who overstayed their welcome, a familiar presence lingering within the stone walls of the Red Keep.
In the Targaryen halls, Death had claimed a perpetual spot, an uninvited guest that became woven into the family's legacy.
For Rhaenyra, Death was a familiar face. It first swept through the halls, claiming her mother with a cruel swiftness. Then, in a macabre dance of inevitability, it returned, stealing away her infant brother Baelon.
Even before those heart-wrenching losses, it had extinguished the delicate flames of promise, leaving the cribs of unborn Targaryen heirs forever empty.
And then came her father, once the most powerful man in all of Westeros. After enduring years of sickness and a bedridden existence, he, too, succumbed to the inevitable embrace of Death.
He was the man who named her his heir, the one who loved her, the shield against the perils of the realm. The man who protected her the best he could.
But a loss that cut deep, a loss that left her withering in agony, was the death of her daughter, her sweet girl, her Lucerya.
Suffocating. Living without her daughter felt like a relentless suffocation, an abyss of emptiness that echoed with the ghostly laughter of grief. The void left by Lucerya's absence was a chasm impossible to bridge.
Lucerya, her darling daughter, had been a beacon of hope and joy. Her laughter had echoed through the corridors, a melody that warmed the coldest corners of Rhaenyra's heart.
The child's eyes mirrored the vivid hues of dragonfire, and her spirit embodied the very essence of House Targaryen.
Every morning, Rhaenyra awoke to the haunting absence of Lucerya's giggles, a stark reminder that her daughter was gone. The Sun of Rhaenyra's life had set, leaving behind an eternal darkness in her life. the recesses of Dragonstone.
The once warm and inviting mornings now greeted Rhaenyra with a cold embrace, devoid of the sunshine that had once been her daughter's laughter.
Lucerya's chambers were a permanent destination for Rhaenyra, a sacred space frozen in time. The scent of lavender clung to the air like a fragile wisp of a memory.
Every step in that room felt like treading on sacred ground, where the traces of a once-vibrant life lingered. The untouched bed, the forgotten books, and the hushed whispers of a life unfinished all silently accused Rhaenyra of the irrevocable loss she bore.
In those moments, Rhaenyra would sit by the window, staring out at the endless sea. The waves crashed against the cliffs below, mirroring the tumult within her heart.
