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THROUGHOUT THE EXTENSIVE HISTORY of the Targaryen dynasty, there had only been two princesses who brought to life not one, but three dragons: Daenys and Daenerys Stormborn.
The birth of their dragons took place under very different circumstances, through distinctive means, but both had loved them as though they were their own flesh and blood. Their own children.
For Daenerys, the hatching of her eggs, seemingly turned to stone by time itself, was the beginning of her long journey to take back what was stolen from her family, her birthright. She was a beacon of light and hope, the second mother of dragons, the breaker of chains, the epitome of beauty and inner strength. She was the culmination of all the best qualities of her ancestors. Without her children, removing the usurpers from the Iron Throne would have been a lot more difficult to achieve.
For Daenys, the birth of her three dragons was the answer to all of her late night prayers. They were the symbol of her legitimacy. They proved to everyone who had doubted her that the blood of the Conqueror coursed through her veins.
Although nobody knew for certain how they were born or what triggered it, not even herself, Daenys had prayed a lot, especially to the gods of Old Valyria. Day and night, she asked them to bring her children to life. She thought mayhap the warming chamber where she placed the eggs had created an auspicious environment for them to hatch, but it had to be more than that. Perhaps it was the will of the gods. Perhaps it was the sound of their mother's voice that finally awoke them.
Alas, evil tongues were relentless. Despite the strange miracle that befell Daenys, the lords and ladies of the court continued to whisper calumnies about her. There was a new rumor afoot, and this one detailed that Daenys was not a child of King Viserys, but rather his brother Daemon. She was too overjoyed by the birth of Moonfyre, Sunryder and Darkwing to allow herself to be affected.
The day her children crawled out of their eggs, wailing for her, Daenys learned the truth. She was, after all, a true daughter of the Dragon.
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"I reckon that there are few things worse than a woman scorned," Aegon remarked casually.
"Where have you gathered that knowledge?" Aemond inquired. "Mother is the only woman who doesn't flee from your presence."
"You must be getting tips from Daenys, your jokes are becoming less funny every day," Aegon responded dryly. "Let's bring her with us."
Aemond paled considerably. "Daenys?"
"Who else? Helaena doesn't know how to have fun, but Daenys... that little minx might have the potential," Aegon said thoughtfully.
Aemond scoffed, adjusting the hood over his head to conceal his white-blond hair. "Forget it. Since her dragons were born, she has barely left their side. She's not coming with us to the city, especially so late at night. If Mother found out about—"
