IV

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114 AC
Kings Landing

Rhaenyra smiled as she sat down on the ground, leaning on the Weirwood tree. She held the small babe on her arms, looking at her white hair, dark eyebrows and purple eyes.

"She's a wonder, isn't she?" She heard a familiar male voice say.

A grin formed on her face.

"I suppose so, but here she looks quite ordinary, uncle."

"Ahh but it's hardly about the looks, Rhaenyra. Doesn't she reek of something more special, more powerful?" Daemon grinned.

She took a second look at the small princess, who now was sound asleep.

"There's something, for sure."

Daemon didn't answer, only stared with a smirk on his face.

She ignored it.

"When are you going back to the Vale?" She tried to switch the subject.

He took a moment to answer.

"Daor mijegon zirȳla. Ziry brōztagon onto nyke, daor se dārys. Issa nyke qilōni gūrogon hen zirȳla" (Not without her. She called onto me, not the king. It is I who should take care of her. 'Tis I who will take care of her.)

"Issa daor jāre naejot ivestragī mazemā zirȳla. Yn ao bona, ao?"
(He is not going to let you take her. But you knew that, didn't you?)

He looked at her.

"Kessa." (Yes.)

...

"How are we supposed to get her out?" The king asked furiously.

"I don't know, your grace. She doesn't answer to the High Valyrian commands, or let us take her to the Dragonpit." The dragonkeeper tells him.

"She already burned one of us." He tells the king.

"The dragon? She was hatched nearly a moon ago, how could she already do that?" He questioned.

"Your grace, she is already bigger than most one year old dragons, if she keeps growing at this pace, she might be the size of Syrax by the next few years."

It was true, the unnamed pearl white dragon already had the might of a war dragon at only a moon old. She refuses to leave the small princess's side for too long, which has caused a fair amount of problems.

"What is to be done?" Viserys asked.

...

"So, ser Laenor?"

"Mhm." The princess laughed.
"We'll be wed soon." She answered, while walking with her uncle along the gardens of the Red keep.

"So I've heard." He cocked.

Rhaenyra turned to look at him.
"What? Is this not how you would of wanted it? So it seemed, back then."

The prince looked at their surroundings too see if anyone was listening.

"Rhaenyra—"

"If you wish to take me, do it. I've not been wed, not yet. Do as you like, take me, or just leave me alone, 'cause that's apparently all you can do—"

"Rhaenyra—"

"And your lady wife wouldn't even care, and I assume her life is to be lived short—" She cut herself out, as the prince stepped in front of her, brushing a hand through her front hair, pulling the hairs behind her ear. He leaned in, locking eyes with her before kissing her forehead, slowly leaning back.

Rhaenyra stared at him, a longing look on her face.

"I'll leave on the morrow. Without a sound, Valyria will be taken, amongst her dragon and you will not see us again. I will not repeat this, Rhaenyra."

She gulped.

"Promise me that you will not seak for me, or her. She'll be safe, I'll guarantee it."

Now she looked around the field, before meeting his eyes again.

"I promise. But what of father? He will send men looking for her."

"You mustn't worry about that. He won't find us, and therefore will never have to see me again. Nor the babe."

Rhaenyra looked down at her new sister, who soon would be no more that a stranger. She quietly slept on Daemon's arms, not a worry in her mind.

"Why?"

Daemon turned to look her way.

"Your father only wants to keep her here for his own benefit, only seeing her as a tool for more success and power for himself, someone to use as an accessory, not a real human child. He sees not a living soul, but a miracle for him to claim as some kind of an animal, or a trophy. He doesn't understand that she called onto me, and from the ruins of Old Valyria was she born to serve a purpose. I don't know what, but she is no ordinary Targaryen, nor a Targaryen at all. She is Old Valyria in human form, something even greater than we can understand."

For a moment, Rhaenyra saw a hint of something in his eye that she has not seen before;

Love.

...

That same night, the king watched his new daughter, fall asleep.

That night, he was happy. Hopeful.

That night, a member of the city watch came to his chambers, bearing a message.

"Princess Valyria has been taken."
He said.

...

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