Dragonstone Castle, Dragonstone Island: 97 AC
The screams of the princess rang through the halls of Dragonstone as the waves crashed against the beach. Outside, Viserys Targaryen paced outside, worrying for his wife. The screams stopped suddenly and cries could be heard.
He spun on his foot as the door opened and he entered the room. Aemma reclined against the pillows, exhausted but visibly beaming, her sapphire blue eyes meeting his pale purple. "Come meet our daughters, Viserys." she said, holding two bundles in her arms.
He smiled and hurried to her side, sitting down on the bed. "This one is the eldest." Aemma informed him, handing him the twin in a black blanket. "Oh she's beautiful." Viserys smiled, looking down at the white-gold curls. "Do you wish to name her?" he asked Aemma.
"Hmm... I've always enjoyed the name Aelinor." Aemma informed him. "Aelinor Targaryen. It's perfect." Viserys said. "And Rhaenyra, for our younger daughter? It means delightful in High Valyrian."
"Rhaenyra." Aemma said, tasting the name. "Yes, our little Rhaenyra."
Aelinor yawned and blinked open her violet eyes, having heard her parents name her and her twin sister (sister!). Aelinor squinted, trying to fight the blurriness. Two pale people were above her and she tried to frown but her facial muscles weren't working. "She has grandfather's eyes, Aemma." her father said, lowering a finger to trace her nose. Aelinor, formerly Amaryllis Potter, squirmed in her blanket and her father earned a point in his favor when he gently loosed the blanket to let her right arm out.
Her stomach was empty and she was hungry and she squealed when she was lifted to her mother's breast. This is NOT funny, Death. the witch huffed down their bond before sucking up her pride.
Dragonstone Castle, Dragonstone Island: 97 AC
I'm so bored. Aelinor thought, opening her eyes from her nap. She and her sister, Rhaenyra, had been introduced to several more people, her great grandparents, King Jaehaerys Targaryen and Queen Alysanne Targaryen, her grandfather Prince Baelon Targaryen, her uncle prince Daemon Targaryen, her great aunt Priness Gael Targaryen, and her cousin Princess Rhaenys Targaryen Velaryon.
After which she had been placed down to nap. Something warm drew her attention and she turned her head to see a dragon egg nestled in her cradle. It was a beautiful shade of pure white, whiter than the fresh snow from her old life, with elegant ripples of silver.
She gaped at the gg and reached out with her magic. The egg's magic responded and a cracking noise happened as spiderweb shaped cracks appeared along the egg while the egg started too wobble.
DEATH WHAT THE HELL Aelinor screeched. Don't worry. That is your new familiar. Death said, appearing (only to her) above her cradle.
A servant gasped and rushed out (not seeing Death thank goodness), yelling for someone to fetch the royal family for Princess Aelinor's egg was hatching. A chunk of the egg fell away, and a dragon's head peered through, letting out a soft chirp. Aelinor watched fascinated as the white dragon hatchling broke through the egg, and once it got out flopped down, as if exhausted.
It's nostrils flared and cunning blue eyes meet her own violet, curiosity shining in its eyes. The hatchling got onto its legs and crawled over to her, peering down at her. It chirped happily and a tentative feeling reached out. Aelinor instinctively responded, feeling their magics merge and a proper familiar bond form between them.
Love-devotion-loyalty surged through their bond and the little hatchling chirped, nudging her cheek and purring. Aelinor pushed down her own feelings of love as she admired the hatchling. It was entirely white with silver scales perfectly scattered, and in the sunlight it gave the effect of the hatchling being made out of white diamonds. The horns, spines, the spikes on its tail, and claws were silver in color with white wing membranes that had veins of silver.
The hatchling suddenly shrieked, wings flaring as the doors banged open and her family poured in. Rhaenyra woke with a startled cry and Aemma rushed to her twin.
"It's a girl." her grandfather mused, carefully approaching her crib as the hatchling growled, snapping at her grandfather's fingers. The she dragon (hatchling?) shuffled closer, protectively looming over her. "The first cradle hatching in decades." Alysanne mused.
"And on the same day of her birth!" Viserys crowed, approaching the cradle. The hatchling spat out a small spark of fire and Baelon hurridly picked her up as her cradle caught on fire. The hatchling pounced on Baelon's tunic, obviously intent to follow her.
Harrenhal, the Riverlands: 101 AC
Aelinor toddled through the gardens, Talyrax (named by Alysanne) flew over her. The white hatchling was the size of a large dog at the age of four and her Kingsguard, assigned to her on her first birthday, Ser Arryk, followed her with her nursemaid. She liked Arryk—more than once she had woken from her nap to see him and his male lover making out in her room.
Talyrax's size was fueled by her magic and the fact that the she dragon gave hell to anyone who tried to separate her from Aelinor. So until she grew to big, Talyrax lived in the Red Keep, Aelinor's loyal shadow, present for her first word, first steps, and so many firsts.
She had learned much in her four years. Which she empathically cursed Death for because, really? Out of all words, why a princess of an incestuous, dragon riding family who were the royal family of Westeros. Death found it funny, but Aelinor didn't—not always.
She adored Talyrax and loved her new family dearly— all of them. Gael, Alysanne, and Baelon's deaths hit hard, and now Jaehaerys was hosting a Great Council which Aelinor found dumb. Seriously, letting the lords choose the heir? Not a good idea.
Aelinor shrieked when she tripped, not noticing a stone in her path. Arryk caught her before she could fall. "Time to go, Princess. It's getting late."
"Not safe." she mumbled. "Yes, Princess." Arryk agreed, holding her. She peered over his shoulder as he strode through the halls of Harrenhal to the temporary Targaryen quarters.
The heavy curse and death magic over the castle would make any mage faint, but when she had been Amaryllis Potter, the first witch in centuries to be born with death magic, and to become the Mistress of Death. The death magic didn't bother her
Rather, in a strange way, it comforted her.
YOU ARE READING
The White Queen
Fanfiction"The White Queen truly saved our dynasty, did she not? It just took us a while to realize it. But she did." - Queen Regnant Aelora I, the Architect. In 97 AC, Aemma Arryn delivers twins. Two daughters are born, the younger innocent and the elder wit...
