GODLY, hotd

|| 02 || the haunting of a mother

THE MEMORY of her father standing over her mothers dead, gaping body with an almost dead babe in his hands would forever stain the memory of Lucrezia as she stood at the hill that held her mother and brothers bodies.

Lucrezia wondered, was her father truly happy in that single moment he held a half breathing son boldly named after his own father? Was the thought of having two daughters so haunting that he had her mother cut open for a babe with a member between its legs?

Her body shook, not from the chill or the dastardly winds but from pure, undeterred rage that simmered beneath her porcelain skin; the heat of the rage, scraping at her chest burying itself to where her heart once was boiling her blood so that even she thought she could spit fire as of her dragon.

her eyes glued to the balding head of her father, he didn't deserve happiness or to he content within his life when he had ripped her mother from her careful grasp for a dead babe.

"lift your head," a gravelly voice whispered in her ear, the warmth of the hand upon her shoulder had her leaning into the contact, "they are staring, now more than ever."

"I wonder if he was happy," Rhaenyra spoke in their mother language, as Lucrezia's eyes burned not awaiting for her sister as her lips parted with a sneer.

"Greyghost," she croaked as her silvery dragon made its way, awaiting her command. "Dracarys."

THE NOBLES WHISPERED how the once vibrant and beautiful princess Lucrezia had become the haunt of the castle, her screams during the nights echoing through the halls.

she was a shell of herself, her mothers murder replaying in her mind every night in her slumber as she slept under the same roof of her murderer.

she was so gaunt looking, having not been able to stomach much other than dry crackers and cheese once every few days; rather wanting to succumb to her grief and rot within her bed, eating and looking after herself were far from her mind.

The princess hadn't even left after hearing the news of her uncles moniker for her dead brother; she laughed, loud and proud as her father began his way down her hall.

And the only reason she left her doors now, was because of her father's calling upon her. The first time either would speak, since Aemma died.

Balerion's skull sits on display surrounded by candles, Lucrezia always found it rather grotesque while her father stood with his hand above some candles, Lucrezia waved off the guard as she stood opposite her father, "good morrow, Father."

"Balerion was the last living creature to have seen Old Valyria before the Doom. Its greatness and its flaws. When you look at the dragons, what do you see?" Viserys hummed and Lucrezia's jaw clenched, her red stained eyes glaring.

"What? You haven't spoken a word to me since Mother's funeral, and now you send your little lapdogs down-" Lucrezia seethed, her lilac eyes darkening as Viserys interrupted her, "Answer me. It's important. What do you see?"

"I suppose I see us." Lucrezia answered blandly, as Viserys quirked a brow, "Tell me.@

"Everyone says Targaryens are closer to gods than to men, but they say that because of our dragons. Without them, we're just like everyone else, as much as we will not admit such." She shrugged watching as he nodded before continuing.

"The idea that we control the dragons is an illusion. They're a power man should never have trifled with. One that brought Valyria its doom. If we don't mind our own histories, it will do the same to us. Targaryen must understand this to be King... or Queen." Viserys trailed and her eyes popped, excuse me? He must be playing a sick joke.

"I'm sorry, Lucy. I have wasted the years since you were born wanting for a son." Viserys whispered, his hand raising to her cheek delicately, "You are the very best of your mother."

"And I believe it, I know she did, that you could be a great ruling queen." Viserys coaxed as she scoffed before speaking, "Daemon is your heir,"

"Daemon was not made to wear the crown, But I believe that you were." Viserys nodded to himself as she took a step back.

Lucretia shook her head wildly, "I don't wish for it, I am a mere daughter none the less. The spare, I don't want the throne. Give it to Rhaenyra, she'll be glad for some recognition from you."

his lips parted as she turned and walked off, was the rumors true? Had his pride and joy turned mad within his castle walls? Cause' who in the right mind declined the throne?

Lucrezia Targaryen, that's who.