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RHAELYS VELARYON. The only true child of Rhaenrya Targaryen and Laenor Velaryon. A pair of parents such as hers doomed her at birth. A man who preferred the same sex, and a woman who preferred to sleep with who pleased her the most in that moment.
Rhaelys was Rhaenrya's second child, her pride and joy. Until— Rhaelys, age nine, had walked in on her mother. In bed. With Ser Harwin Strong. The two adults stared at her in shock, their bodies covered with a thin white sheet. Ser Harwin hadn't bothered to get off of the Princess, simply looking over his shoulder with wide, shocked eyes at the frozen little girl.
"Rhae..." Rhaenrya began, sweet-talking her baby girl. But Rhaelys whipped around and ran as fast as her small legs could take her out of the chambers. Heading to her beloved queen, Alicent Hightower.
Not too many moons after this occurrence, Rhaelys was sent off to Highgarden to marry a boy, five years her elder.
A year went by, and Rhaelys never seemed to thrive in Highgarden. She found them obnoxious, she found that she didn't fit in whatsoever. They were witty and extroverted. She was shy and introverted. After some time, her betrothed and his friends began picking on her.
It started with childish bullying. Teasing, pinching, tugging of the hair. But as they got older, in the third year, when Rhaelys was twelve, the bullying got much more mature. While the group of three boys never beat the girl...they began doing much, much worse things to her.
They took her innocence, mocking her ruthlessly. They didn't care for her feelings. Taking turns taking her. It went on for two years straight. She lost count of the many times she had been thrown around, pinned, and savagely raped.
And the day Rhaelys had her fourteenth name day, her betrothed and his two companions were found dead in his chamber that very morning. Each having a golden goblet in their hands. Spilled wine soaking their expensive clothes, blood, snot, and spit having spilt from their mouths and noses.
Rhaelys disappeared for a year. Everyone was worrying, the Tyrells, the Blacks, the Greens, everyone. It was 129 AC, and Rhaelys had turned fifteen years old. King Viserys was expected to pass soon, and the war was creeping closer.
Amid the year that Rhaelys had been absent from the Royal World, she was closer than they thought.
She claimed a dragon, the eldest living dragon in the world at the time. Elder than Vhagar, almost as large, but not quite. The Cannibal. The black-as-coal dragon was known to eat smaller dragons along with dragon eggs. He had fiery, emerald green eyes that no dragon had ever been seen with.
Rhaelys could recall how when she stepped into his lair, he had sensed her presence. And as he emerged from the darkness, his large green eyes stared into her purple eyes. Legend has it that the Cannibal dragon had been waiting for Rhaelys since he was born. Knowing she was the only dragon rider worthy enough to sit his back.
For a while, Rhaelys lived in the lair with the dragon. And one day, when men came looking for the dragon, both of them knew it was time they fled.
Rhaelys climbed onto the dragon's spiky back, unafraid. She had never ridden a dragon, and she was going to ride high in the sky on his bare back. But she trusted her worthy, old dragon. She knew she was safe.
So, just as the men got ready to enter the large lair, the black dragon flew speedily above their heads. Practically skimming their helmet-covered heads. And as the men watched in shock as the dragon flew off, they could have sworn they caught sight of a tattered dress and curly white hair flying in the wind on the dragon's back.
Rhaelys had in mind where she intended to go, but spoke not a single command to the dragon. For she was too stuck in her own mind, ever so happy that she finally found some happiness in her empty, melancholic heart. And Cannibal could feel it too, the old boy letting out loud calls into the sky.
And all of a sudden, all around the realm, dragons began acting up. Going practically mad, having to be held down by chains to stop them from flying away. No one knew what was happening, but they soon would.
-
Rhaelys and Cannibal were a known duo in Westeros. Feared or hated by most. The only people who were glad of them were the people on their side.
Rhaelys spent her years executing, betraying, destroying, arguing, conspiring, and doing so many petrifying things. Her mother was terrified that one night she would wake to her daughter at the end of her bed. Smiling that wickedly childish smile. Rhaenrya would awake in the night, gasping for air and glancing frantically around the room for her daughter.
The woman spent her last days in fear that her daughter would come to take her revenge. In truth, Rhaenrya knew that her daughter deserved her revenge.
When the Dance of the Dragons began, everyone knew of Rhaelys' crimes against her betrothed. But they also knew of his crimes against her. The whole world was aware of the woman who murdered her betrothed and his two best companions. They knew that she had been raped continuously by them. And they knew who agreed to send her away.
Rhaenrya wouldn't blame Rhaelys if she came and killed her own mother. But Rhaenrya was also ready to defend herself and murder her daughter if she had to. No matter the immense terror that her daughter had inflicted upon her.
Hundreds of years after the Dance, Rhaelys 'The Symbol of Death' Velaryon would be a well-known name by all of the women in the Realm. Rhaelys would play a female figure in the long line of years, encouraging women to get their revenge. No matter who it harmed.
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But one thing was for sure...the realm was at peace before Rhaelys Velaryon had arrived from her year of silence.
