𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐄𝐍━━━━━
in which Maegora Targaryen, the Queen of Devuniean and Jacaerys Velaryon the heir to the Iron Throne fall in love and live a happy married life.
or
in which Maegora does her best to support her aunt and her husband'...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
ACT THREE. chapter eighteen. devuniean
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
After the attack, Queen Maegora found herself longing for the solace of home more than she ever had before. The weight of the other day clung to her like smoke, thick and suffocating, and the thought of Devuniean — its familiar hills, silver rivers, and towering white stone — felt like the first breath after drowning.
At dawn, under a sky just beginning to shift from indigo to gold, she stood in the courtyard of the keep, cloaked in pale wool, her hair still loose from the early hour. With quiet words and a soft smile, she sent her maid — and dearest friend — Rose ahead in a carriage escorted by a small company of guards. "I'll be just behind," she promised, resting a hand on Rose's arm. "The skies will carry me faster." Rose, ever dutiful yet unable to hide her worry, nodded and climbed into the carriage, glancing back until the gates swallowed her from view.
The Queen of Devuniean Maegora lingered only a moment longer, exchanging parting words with those who had gathered to see her off. She climbed into the saddle of Rhaexon, her great black-scaled dragon, the warmth of his body pulsing beneath her gloved hands. With a whispered command in High Valyrian, his wings unfurled like storm-wrought sails, and the wind roared around them as they took to the sky.
They soared high, cutting between towers of cloud, the world falling away beneath them in mist and shadow. Up there, above it all, Maegora felt the first true peace she had known in weeks. The chaos of court, the bloodshed, the betrayals — all of it seemed impossibly small from this height. She leaned forward and gently patted Rhaexon's back, her fingers brushing over the ridges of his scales. He growled low in contentment, his wings steady as he carved through the sky.
