Sᴏʟᴜs (adjective)
sow-luhs
alone or unaccompanied.
Viserra Targaryen was a bastard. First born child to Daemon Targaryen. Cousin to Rhaenyra. Daughter of a whore. Viserra was born not long after the death of Daemon's first wife, Rhea Royce; jus...
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HORSES TROTTED through the city streets, passing the occupants that stared in awe of the royal carriage. It could only mean one thing; their princess had returned. The family sat in silence, watching the passing scenery. It had been six long years, and yet the streets surrounding the keep had remained the same. Memories were held in every corner of the capital. Jace and Luke recalled the adventures they had, occasionally being accompanied by their uncle, Aegon. Rhaena was in awe of it all, having not seen her father's birthplace before now.
The iron gate rose, allowing the carriages to enter into the castle's grounds. "All hail Rhaenyra of House Targaryen, Princess of Dragonstone and heir to the Iron Throne and her royal consort, Prince Daemon Targaryen." The carriage came to a stop, the door soon opening. Rhaenyra was the first to exit, staring up at the castle where she had spent most of her life. Rhaena came to stand beside her royal stepmother, Daemon and the two eldest boys stood behind them.
One of the large wooden doors opened, an older man stepping out. Rhaenyra was skeptical at first. Why hadn't the queen or the hand come out to greet them? The man closed the distance between them, taking a short bow and cupping the princess's hand between his own. "Welcome back, Princess." The man greeted.
"Lord Caswell." Rhaenyra greeted in response.
Lord Caswell looked over the silver-haired members of her family, looking for one in particular. "Where is the Princess Viserra?" He questioned. She had been the reason for their return, or so he'd been told.
Before any of the family could offer the man his answer, a dragon's call was heard overhead. Their eyes rose to the sky, where a bronze dragon quickly passed over them, a silver dragon not far behind. "That would be her now." Daemon observed, looking back to Lord Caswell with a proud, soft smile.
Rhaenyra looked over her shoulder at the large knight stood behind her husband. "Go fetch her, will you?"
The knight bowed his head. "At once, Princess." The knight, branded with the proud Targaryen sigil, journeyed into the castle.
Viserra dismounted her large dragon, the keepers moving towards him. "I wouldn't do that." She warned, the bronze beast grumbling at the set of men. "He doesn't take well to strangers." She pat the dragons large face. "Lykiri." She calmed him, before looking back at the awaiting keepers. "Take her first," she motioned to Silverwing, who lowered her head for Viserra to pet. "He'll follow her in."
A young keeper explained the princess's instructions in their native tongue. Silverwing was patient as the keepers escorted her to the Dragon's Keep. She roared at Vermithor, almost as if scolding him into complying. Vermithor grumbled once more with a shake, before following his mate. Viserra laughed at her moody dragon. The two reminded her of a married couple.
