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The halls of Blackwood Castle, known as The Block, were quiet. No candles were lit. A heavy sadness filled the castle even after a year of the death of the oldest Blackwood.
Lady Jane Blackwood had been struck down by a mysterious illness. A strong and honorable woman who had taught her siblings kindness and empathy—things their father could not teach with a sword she used to say. Sadly, her daughter, Naesa, had to grow up without a mother, only hearing stories of how great she had been to others but not for her. Through the last year, as the ten and two year old child walked through The Block, people lowered their heads pitying her. The daughter of Lady Jane felt observed by many but comforted by none.
While everyone was busy fighting their own grief she fought nightmares that haunted her sleep. Her own father was one of them. The feeling of grief had blinded him to the point that he hadn't noticed the lack of sleep his daughter had been having.
In the middle of the night, while Maegor Targaryen drank his feelings away, a sound of whimpering made his head turn to the door. He saw the silver haired in his open door with big dark eyes filled with redness looking around the room like a paranoid, her lips were trembling while holding a blanket.
"What has happened Naesa?" He asked trying to hold the girl.
"The dragon. It is going to kill me." She whispered.
Maegor looked at her confused. "Wha- What are you saying small child?"
"I keep having this nightmare where Vereanyx devours me." Naesa said, her voice trembling as she gripped her father's arms tightly. Her eyes, wide with terror, locked onto his.
"It starts the same every time. I'm standing alone and everything is so quiet. Then I see him emerging from the shadows. He seems different. He lunges at me, and I'm paralyzed with fear.
His jaws open wide, and I can see each of his teeth. He moves so quickly, and I can't escape. He sinks his teeth into my skin, tearing through skin and muscle. The pain. Father. I can feel it, every bite, every rip."
Naesa's voice broke, but she pushed on. "I scream for him to stop, I beg, but he doesn't. He just keeps going."
Her father stared at her in stunned silence. He felt powerless, unsure how to comfort his daughter.
"Maybe... maybe we should see the maesters in the morning," he finally managed, his voice heavy with concern. "Until then, there's nothing we can do."
Naesa shook her head, her eyes pleading. "But it felt so real, Father. I could feel his teeth, ..."
He reached out, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Dreams are just dreams, Naesa. Vereanyx would never harm you. You're his rider, his partner."
"But what if..." Her voice faltered, tears glistening in her eyes.
He cut in gently but firmly, "But it wasn't real, Naesa. Whatever you saw, whatever you felt—it wasn't real. Vereanyx would never do that to you. Remember that."
Back in her room she was too scared to go back to sleep. She knew that if she closed her eyes, she would go back into that nightmare, living it again and again. She couldn't bear it.
She stood up, her legs trembling. She couldn't live with the terror that haunted her every night. Vereanyx had to be stopped. Her heart ached at the thought—he had been her companion, her protector—but now, he was her nightmare.
Quietly, she slipped out of her chamber and made her way through the dark halls of The Block. Everyone was still asleep, unaware of her. She moved like a ghost, her footsteps soft on the stone floor.
Her body stopped in front of a wall where a sword was hanging from—a relic of her mother's house. She hesitated for a moment, her hand hovering over the sword. Doubt was eating her up, but she end up grabbing the handle and making her way outside heart pounding louder in her ears.
Vereanyx lay in the center, his small body curled up, his breathing deep. He looked peaceful, almost serene, a big contrast to the monster in her nightmares.
As she got closer, Vereanyx woke up, his eyes flickering open. He watched his rider with a curious gaze. Naesa's grip tightened on the sword. She closed the distance between them, her heart almost leaving her chest. Vereanyx's eyes followed her every move.
"I'm sorry," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "But I can't live in fear anymore."
With a swift, decisive motion, she raised the sword and brought it down, slicing Vereanyx's head clean off his body. The dragon let out a final, piercing roar of pain before falling
The force of the action threw Naesa back, and she landed hard on the stone floor. Tears streamed down her face, but she didn't move. She sat there, shaking, covered in blood, as the reality of what she had done crashed down on her. The nightmare was over, but at a terrible cost.
Naesa Targaryen had killed a dragon.
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author's note; damn, she should have been at the club or sent away to the seaside for her mental health.
