Aelora Targaryen, known as "The Golden Child," was born of secrets and trained as a hidden weapon. Raised amidst prophecies and held back by her family's ambition, fire, and blood, she lived a life shrouded in mystery. Across the realm, Benjicot Bla...
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The rage and grief of a mother losing her child could consume the world like a wildfire, leaving devastation in its wake.
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"A girl, Your Grace," one of the castle's many maester's exclaimed abruptly, his facial expression a mix of concern and shock. He had only just learned of Princess Rhaenyra's pregnancy when some of her maids hurried to fetch him for aid. The unexpected news of her delivery caught him off guard, and the urgency in his tone hinted at sudden complications or surprises unfolding within the princess's royal chambers.
"What?" King Viserys questioned, his expression a mix of disbelief and concern. He had been seated in a chair, immersed in building and repairing his model of old Valyria before its doom—a project he often discussed with Princess Rhaenyra, who shared his fascination with their family history.
"The Princess Rhaenyra has just given birth in her chambers. It was unexpected, Your Grace, nobody kne—" the maester began to try to explain, but Viserys cut him off abruptly, striding purposefully out of his chambers and setting up a rapid pace towards his daughter's quarters. The news had interrupted his peaceful moment, leaving unanswered questions lingering in the air, and the urgency in his steps spoke volumes of his concern for Rhaenyra and her newborn daughter.
.....Laughter and cries filled the once-quiet castle, echoing down its halls as King Viserys pushed open the doors to his daughter's chamber. The maids attending Princess Rhaenyra turned swiftly at the sound of his arrival, their expressions a blend of surprise and concern. Inside, Rhaenyra sat in admiration, her gaze fixed upon her newborn daughter nestled in her arms, as evidenced by the hushed murmurs of the attendants and the soft, contented coos of the infant. The air was heavy with the sense of new life and the weight of family legacy now resting upon the newborn, who was Rhaenyra's firstborn child.
"I think I'll name her Aelora," Rhaenyra said quietly trying to not startle the babe, her gaze still settled on her newborn daughter. Her finger was gently held within Aelora's tiny hands before Rhaenyra let out a soft laugh at Aelora's action, a tender moment to bind mother and child together in the peaceful setting of the princess's chamber.
"Aelora is such a beautiful name," Viserys chuckled softly, taking in the sight of his daughter—once cradled in his own arms, now holding her own child. He observed the sudden change in her expression, noticing the reminiscence in her eyes as she hummed a song her mother, Aemma, used to sing to her in childhood. It stirred bittersweet emotions within him, reminding him of the emptiness left by Aemma's absence, a loss he still carried the weight of. Recognizing the familiar tune brought by his daughter, he knew it was a haunting reminder of his past mistakes whenever he looked at her.
Rhaenyra turned to look at him, worry evident on her face, contemplating what her father might say about her newborn child, a secret still known to none but her. She glanced at her maids, silently urging them to leave so that she and her father could have some privacy to talk about the child, about whom no one knew a thing about.
