𝐖𝐚𝐫 𝐨𝐟 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬 | 𝐉𝐚𝐜𝐚𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐬 𝐕𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐨𝐧

𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐚

somewhere in the sky...

For centuries, dragons have been looked upon as gods or called names such as beasts. This hostile creature wouldn't hesitate to kill if necessary or—somewhat for their survival, but for Virescentia, it entails a different story.

When the dragon was released from her nest, she was fast asleep, and seeing the state of Astraea gave her an unforgettable feeling that wasn't even possible for a dragon, a hostile creature, to feel.

Virescentia let out a raw screech of anger, sadness, and desperation for help from the gods above—even she, the dragon, was blinded by her own title.

It was such a shame that a so-called god couldn't recognize its own ability to provide for her own madness. I guess dragons aren't gods after all.

The hour is now growing late, with the sun close to setting and the moon rising above.

Exhaustion continues to creep up on Virescentia, but not one moment did she stop to rest, as she was determined to bring her back home, not to Kings Landing or Dragonstone but to the home where Gloria raised them both, in a place where nature was against war.

However, a sudden noise, a screech, from the mere distance caused the she-dragon to turn around upon seeing Vermax and Syrax behind him.

"Mother! Isn't that Astraea's dragon, Virescentia?" The prince shouted out to his mother with a smile so wide that it was enough for him to feel the familiar sensation that the princess was safe—until he noticed she wasn't in the saddle of her dragon.

"There's something wrong. Why isn't she on the saddle?" Jacaery's face was worried when he finally saw the princess, who was still conscious and lying in the palms of her dragon. He also noticed a cloth that wrapped securely around her body.

Rhaenyra quickly took action and guided the she-dragon to trail behind; surprisingly, it followed her.

The prince hadn't spoken since they returned to Dragonstone, and he didn't ask any questions upon seeing the babe. 

But he held Astraea's hand all through the night, and not once did he let his touch slip away, not even when he could no longer feel his own.

♕

⸻
Astraea Lily Targaryen

As my eyes began to flutter open, I noticed a figure sitting on the ground beside me.

His knees kiss the floor while his head lays on my bed, eyes closed—his right hand resting above mine.

"Jacaerys," I whispered softly and carefully pulled my right hand away from his touch, but the sudden action caused him to hold a tighter grip.