BROKEN CHAINS Rhaenyra Targaryen & Daemon Targaryen

. c h a p t e r t h r e e .

. Chapter three the meeting of two heirs .

. " The first time you caught my eye
It was not love at first sight. Instead, a
quiet curiosity was planted in my chest– " .

The following days of travel went by much quicker than Makaria had wished for, Yvaine had flown them higher in the sky than normal. A safety measure for both, to be hidden in such plain sight brought comfort.

She had begun to see Kings Landing a few miles back, Yvaine had hissed at the sight. Whether it was her feeling the discomfort, and disgust from her rider, or her own displeasure of being away from home.

Maybe both, whatever it was. The large dragon did not wish to be there.

Hearing a high pitched whistle come from below them, Makaria looked down, seeing a small outline of a dragon she clicks her tongue. "Could the rider not feel the presence of a fellow dragon?".

"Were these Targaryens really that out of touch with the magic that flowed through their veins?".

The proper Velkyri way was to greet the dragon in the sky, and either welcome them, or fight them. "This is not home". She had to remind herself.

Feeling her riders emotions Yvaine shakes her head looking back at her, Makaria pats her shoulder in reassurance, and comfort.

"Morus". She hisses, still looking down at the outline of the dragon. (Moron) Yvaine hisses in agreement.

Though the dragons noises were faint from their height difference, Makaria could feel the uneasiness flow from the unknown dragon. "At least one of them notices".

Yvaine ignored their presence, the war dragon may not enjoy the presence of others, but she would not act unless commanded, if she was alone that might be a different story. Another loud whistle filled the sky, and Makaria could feel the annoyance flowing through her dragon. She too, was not impressed.

It was an unpleasant noise, one Makaria did not wish to hear up close. She would much rather listen to her stepmother berate her on how "unladylike" she was. How her father married a woman like her was beyond comprehension, in a house full of warriors he chose a woman with little to no knowledge of war, or fighting.

Though, she supposes the hag was good for one thing, her knowledge of different poisons. Even if she hated to admit it Makaria learned quite a bit from the woman.

Tightening her thighs, and grip on the saddle handles Yvaine flies even higher. It was something Makaria prides herself in, though she spoke to her dragon in their native tongue. It was unnecessary, the bond between them was strong enough that no words were needed. If a simple thought were to cross her mind Yvaine would do it.

"I want to go home". She sighs to herself, looking back. She did not wish to be here, caring less if she sounded like a child throwing a tantrum. All she wanted to do was turn Yvaine around and fly back home, fuck the peace treaty.

Shaking her head Makaria knocks herself out of her pity party, clicking her tongue Yvaine responds before the two plummet downwards. Yvaine's wings tuck into her side, with a genuine laugh Makaria tucks her body as close as she could.