Dragonborn

ONE

A baby.

I am an honest to god, baby.

And the worst part? I'm a princess, the firstborn child of a king, in a medieval world where patriarchy is thriving.

God help me.

(Either I'm gonna kill myself or I'll end up killing someone. It's gonna be a toss-coin which one is going to happen first.)

There's nothing much I could do as a woman much less as a baby. I can't even shit myself without a servant fussing over me. The only upside in this situation was my brand new uncle, Prince Daemon, and Vermithor, my dragon. Both turned out to be a softie despite their fierce monikers of Rogue Prince and Bronze Fury.

After King Viserys berated Daemon for taking me to the Dragonstone without permission, he barred the prince from taking me to see my dragon again. It was an argument that lasted for six months, much to the Queen's worries.

(I still can't call them Mom and Dad since I can still remember my parents from before. Maybe sometime in the future, I could. For now, though, they're just King and Queen for me.)

It was an argument that was put to rest when Vermithor came out of his cave and flew to the Red Keep in search of me. I was with my mother at that time, I think, when the unmistakable roar of Vermithor echoed through the castle. That's when the screaming started.

If my uncle hadn't taken me from my mother and presented me to my dragon like a deadly reenactment of Rafiki presenting Simba, then maybe the Red Keep wouldn't be standing right now.

Another castle lost to a dragon's fury if my uncle's stories about Harenhall were true.

I'm just glad there are no casualties and my father allowed my uncle to take me to Vermithor to avoid another accident like that

Who knew dragons could also experience separation anxiety?

*****

Fast forward to my fourth birthday (the last three years of my life can be summarised as sleep, eat, shit cycle so we can skip that humiliating part of my life and go on to the part where I can function as a mini human) and I'm already fed up with this patriarchy bullshit.

A lady shouldn't run.

A lady obeys.

A lady should always be grateful.

A lady this. A lady that. So many rules, so many restrictions and all the while, men can do whatever they like. Seriously. I'm one bullshit rule away from feeding every nobles and septas to Vermithor.

Anyway, jokes on them because I will never be the perfect lady they want. If it all comes down to it, I'll just take Vermithor and settle on an island somewhere.

It's not like I care too much about this kingdom. The only thing that ties me here is my parents and my unborn sibling.

A sharp sting on my hand took me out of my angst. "You are distracted, niece."

I sighed and lowered my wooden sword. "Apologies, uncle. I am worried."

It's been a year since Daemon caught me swinging a wooded sword at the training yard in the middle of the night and decided to teach me himself. I always knew you'd follow after your namesake.

"Hmm. Tell me."

"I'm worried about my mother. And Otto Hightower. I heard him whispering to Father about arranging my marriage." I scowled. "I am four, I haven't even reached puberty, for fuck sake."

Technically, I'm twenty-five but we're not gonna tell that to my capricious uncle in case he gets some ideas in his head to claim me as his wife or something. Incestuous relationships run in this family and I'm going to yeet myself from the highest tower of this castle before I commit incest.