King's Landing
Naelahrys Blackfyre
Naelahrys gave herself to the darkness, she embraced it like a mother does a child, and refused to cower. The cell that she was thrown in, was filled with the remains of bodies. And the foul stench of manure and blood, was sickening her. After what seemed like a lifetime, the light seeped through her cell and a bowl of something unrecognisable with thrown into her cell, and splattered across the dirtied floor. Naelahrys stared intently at the 'food' and it was seemingly oats but was nearing soup, as it was watery and looked like sick. She refused to eat it anyway, as the memory of Lord Stark's death plagued her mind.
Lord Stark's head, that was all she could think of. Naelahrys felt numb, and like that of a child. She wanted to go home. Eddard Stark was more than a man that saved her, he was her father, one of the few people who saw her not as a Targaryen, not as a dragon, but as a child. He didn't see her as a political advantage nor hostage, he saw her as one of his own, and he saw her as an innocent child charged with the crimes of being a Targaryen. It is the innocent that are in chains and the guilty that are free.
Then a feeling of fear filled her, Joffrey has power. Joffrey killed Ned Stark, and he was one of the last honourable men in Westeros, and the only way to achieving peace with the North, what would stop him from killing Sansa? Nothing. Naelahrys did not care if he killed her, her life was of little importance over Sansa's. Her whole life she has awaited death, and she would accept and welcome it like a dear friend, but she would not let him kill her yet, not until Sansa and the rest of the North was safe from his reign.
Baratheon. Lannister. Targaryen. Stark. Tyrell. Pawns. Pawns in the game that they play, this beast makes a move, then that beast makes a move, on and on they play, the game that never ends. They have crushed the weak, the helpless, the innocent and the deifiers of the game into the ground. No more. Like Eddard Stark, the man that she considered her father, he was an honest and good man, and she felt proud serving him, he defied the game, he saw through the lies and deceit the Lions spewed out of their serpent like mouths, and he then lost his head for seeing it. Then she recalled her Lady mother, Elia Martell and her siblings, they were innocent, they were kind and they were gentle, yet they died anyway, for baring a name. And every night she closed her eyes, she dreamt of them. She imagined what they would look like, and she sees the face of Lord Stark. I see them. When she defeats the players of her game, she will destroy House Lannister, once and for all, and burn the Iron Throne to the ground, and crush those that dare harm the innocent into the rocks.
I am not going to win the game of thrones; I am going to end it, I am going to obliterate it, once and for all.
Her cell door opened and she winced at the light seeping in, and she recognised the House, Sandor Clegane, who entered her cell. He avoided the dirtied mess on the floor and the shattered bowl of food, and stared at her.
"The King wants you to attend the court." The House said, gruffly. "You are just to come as you are."
"You can tell him to get to the hells, I want to see Sansa!" Naelahrys swore, getting to her feet.
Sandor gave a chuckle of amusement, and escorted her out of the cell. Once she stepped out into the light, she saw the Hound's disfigured and burnt face, and shook her head, his own brother did that to him, she heard the stories. I would never suffer such a fate, I am a dragon, immune to all fire. Naelahrys followed Clegane out of the dark dungeons, with a hint of surprise, as he did not bother to chain her nor restrict her in anyway. Though she knew if she tried to run, he would catch her within moments. If I am to escape, I shall escape with dragons, I shall escape with Sansa.
Upon nearing the hall, two guards, both now know to her as Ser Janos and Ser Loch, grasped her arms and she was bodily thrown into the hall, containing the Iron Throne and the court. She gave a short whimper, as she landed onto the hardened ground, and glared through her hair up at a smirking Joffrey, with a crown of antlers proudly sitting upon his golden hair. Naelahrys heard the court gasp in horror or shock, of what she did not know. Just as she was about to sit up, one of the two guards kicked her to the ground, by placing their foot on her back. She groaned and closed her eyes.
"You are in the presence of His Grace, King Joffrey of the House Baratheon and Lannister, First of his Name, King of the Andals and the Rhoynar and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm." Maester Pycelle, she believed him to be, announced.
He does not deserve such titles, he has won no victories, except the beating of women and the murder of Eddard Stark. She gave a roll of her eyes at the announcement of him being called a 'King'. Joffrey smirked down at her with a mad gleam in his eyes, and then she thought on her grandfather, the Mad King, perhaps this boy was him reincarnated. She watched with her eyes downcast as his mother, Cersei and more Small Council members filled the room, such as Petyr Baelish and Lord Varys. Joffrey sat lazily on his throne, slouching, as he studies her and continued to smirk. Joffrey, or now known as King Joffrey, sat above them all, looming over the court in a throne of iron swords, a throne she wanted to destroy. A throne that once belonged to her ancestors for centuries, until their downfall.
She then stood up, disgust etched on her features, as she eyed Joffrey, wiping the blood that dripped from her nose. Joffrey scoffed, stuck his head up in the air, and turned to Ser Janos. "Bring in my dragons." He ordered, "I want to show her my conquests. And bring in Sansa, I wanted to see her look of horror as she sees the crone."
Ser Janos nodded, and two gold cloaks that once stood at Joffrey's side, now climbed down the steps, and walked with Ser Janos out of the hall. There was murmurs and whispers throughout the hall at the mentioning of dragons, and Joffrey lifted his hand in the air slightly, silencing the court.
"You're just a white-haired crone, aren't you?" Joffrey hissed, leaning forward in his chair.
"And you're just a little blond haired shit, aren't you?" Naelahrys retorted, pressing her lips into a firm line.
"What…what did you just call me?" He asked, astonished. And she lifted her head in satisfaction as she heard gasps around the room. Aye, I dare insult your precious King.
Naelahrys looked him in the eye, and stumbled forward, which caused the soldiers near Joffrey to grab the hilts of their swords, and she saw Cersei, grip her chair. She gave him a cold laugh, and then looked at the ground. Yes, I dare insult you, little boy.
"I said better to be a white-haired crone than a little blond haired shit, little boy." She said, stressing her words, spite evident in her voice.
Naelahrys could barely contain her smirk as it slowly etched onto her face, as she saw his face redden and his chest started to heave, and she could have sworn he was turning purple with rage. Well he certainly has his father's temper. He then stood up, and pointed at her, his eyes swimming with insanity.
"I demand this bitch's head!" Joffrey screamed, climbing down from the steps of the throne. "She insulted me, your King!"
"Please, Joff. The girl did not mean it, you cannot kill her for her own stupidity, can you?" Cersei inquired, softly to her son. "We cannot kill her."
"Why not?" Joffrey yelled, snapping his head towards his mother in blinded rage.
"She is a political hostage and ward of the North, Joff." Cersei answered, lying. "Without the Targaryen girl, we cannot reclaim the North."
"We? We? It does not belong to us, everything belongs to me. The Kingdoms are mine!" Joffrey growled, spitting at his mother.
His voice was filled with such malice and madness, and talked that way, even to his own mother. Naelahrys awaited for his mother to scold him, but instead and to her surprise, the Queen regent did not get upset nor angered at her eldest son, and instead, nodded and gave him a soft smile.
"Yes, of course, my son."
The doors of the hall opened and she turned her head slightly, and saw a chest being brought in and was placed in front of her, and Joffrey then smiled lecherously towards her. His green eyes swimming with loathing for her. He kicked the chest open with his foot, carelessly, and she opened her mouth in shock as she looked into the chest, nestled, was her three dragon eggs, and she felt to her knees next to them, and glared up at him. She caressed her eggs softly with her fingers, but would not dare to so much as lift them.
"Hatch them." Joffrey demanded, spitting at her. "Hatch them now!"
"I do not know how." Naelahrys stated, honestly. It is true, I have tried to hatch them with fire and with blood, but I have received nothing. They will not hatch.
"Do not dare lie to me, how do you hatch them? You bitch!" Joffrey screamed, nearing her face. "Tell me!"
"I don't know." Naelahrys said, firmly.
Joffrey roared, and struck her across the face, in a blinded rage. Her head swung harshly to the left, and silver hair covered her face, and her check began to sting. Naelahrys touched her throbbing check with the tips of her fingers, and then turned to look at the boy King, right in the eyes, and gave a low hiss, causing him to tremble.
"Fire and blood, only a dragon may hatch dragon eggs." She answered, mockingly. "And you are not a Targaryen nor a dragon, you are merely a boy with a crown."
"I asked for Sansa, where is she? Bring her here now!" Joffrey shouted, before turning his head towards her again. "This is what happens to those who defy me and my orders."
Naelahrys heard soft clicking of heels, and out of the corner of her eye saw Sansa trembling, being escorted by two soldiers, towards herself and Joffrey. She noticed Joffrey's face light up once she came closer, and it was not out of joy or love, it was the opposite, and a shiver ran up her spine, as he bounded towards her, bouncing on his feet.
"My Lady, look at the gift I brought you. Aren't you happy?" Joffrey smirked, "Does the dungeons not fair her well?"
"Yes, my Prince." Sansa replied, monotonously.
"Your Grace." He hissed, correcting her. "Would it please you to see the Targaryen girl punished for her treasons?"
"No!" Sansa exclaimed, before gasping and looked at Joffrey, worriedly, as his eyes narrowed.
"Sansa." Naelahrys hissed, a warning evident in her voice, as she turned towards Sansa, and looked her in the eyes. "Do not."
"…If it please Your Grace…" Sansa whispered, fear evident in her voice, as she closed her eyes.
"I'll deal with you, later." Joffrey hissed at Sansa, before turning towards her. "As for you, you should be punished. Ser Janos."
The knight stepped in front of her, and she looked up as he hit her across the face, the impacting causing her to fall to the floor, and sounds of shock rang out through the room, as he picked her up and struck her again, and a crack sounded throughout the room. Naelahrys whimpered, and held her stinging face, and tears sprung to her eyes at the pain, but she would not let them see her cry. Not the court, not Sansa, not Cersei and especially not Joffrey. Ser Janos punched her in the stomach, knocking the air out of her lungs, and she gasped clutching her stomach and closing her. She hissed as she could hear the laughter of Joffrey ringing out in the hall, and winced with every kick, punch, and slap that was given to her. Joffrey enjoys my pain, I will not allow that.
And she began to laugh, with each hit, and could hear mutters of how she became mad, but she did not care. They cannot break me. I will not bow, bend nor break. Unbowed, unbent, unbroken. Naelahrys received another hit and this was near her mouth, and then he stopped. She dropped to the ground and began to hack and cough of blood and spit, despite the pain she felt, she did not deter. Determination was filling her. I will not allow Joffrey to pleasure himself at the sound of my pain. Naelahrys knew at this point she would be hailed as mad as her grandfather, and her ancestors before him. She cackled like the crone that Joffrey claimed she was, and with each blow she looked towards her eggs, her children, oblivious to the world and nestled gentle in the chest.
Maybe I am as mad as my grandfather, they look at me as if I am. Naelahrys could not fathom how an entire court of men and woman, could watch another being, another human, be severely beaten, and she knew some watched in enjoyment, and some watched in fear, while others watched in confusion as she continued to laugh. After Ser Janos stopped, she collapsed to the ground, and heaved and hissed, at the pain she felt. And slowly got onto her hands and knees, and stumbled to her feet, clutching herself in agony, and turned towards Joffrey, and looked him in the eye, she licked the blood from her lips, and continued to stare at him. Knowing that she wiped the smug smile from Joffrey's face brought her an unspoken happiness, he shall pay for what he has done.
"Y…your enemy…is…beside you!" She rasped out, as she turned around and looked to the faces of everyone in the court.
Blood filled her mouth, nose, eyes and ears, and was evident on her body, as well. She collapsed to the ground and let darkness take over her, and lull her into a deep slumber, whether she would wake up or not was another matter, and saw a flash of red appear by her side. Sansa.
Sansa Stark
"Naelahrys!" Sansa shrieked, as she witness the silver haired girl fall to the ground, next to the chest. Naelahrys.
Sansa ran towards her side, and forget everything of Joffrey, of Cersei and of her lady-like appearance she was meant to uphold, she did not care. She shook her softly, and received nothing but soft groans and moans. She was bleeding head to foot, and what confused yet frightened Sansa was that Naelahrys laughed, she laughed as Ser Janos beat her, and even when she was in pain and nearing death, she managed to stand and speak out. Sansa wept and stifled her sobs, as she cradled her head in her lap, and looked at Joffrey, and gave him a glare.
"You said you would be just!" She croaked, "Please, mercy. Your Grace, Naelahrys is kind, she is not traitor-"
"I do not care." Joffrey stated, simply and turned towards the Small Council and Ser Janos. "Maester Pycelle, Lord Varys, I entrust that you will deal with her. I want her to hatch my dragons, and you will see to that. Maester Pycelle tend to her, but leave her face, I like it bloody, and Lord Varys tell her when she wakes, that if she does not hatch the dragon eggs, she dies."
Sansa looked up and saw Lord Varys and Maester Pycelle nod, and leave the hall, ominously. Joffrey's face reddened in anger, and he grasped her arm tightly and pulled her away from Naelahrys, causing her friend to land on the ground with a thud. He pulled her out of the hall, with Ser Janos in tow. Sansa briefly wondered if she was to die like her father or suffer the same fate as Naelahrys, and hardened her face, she must be brave, although she would not find the strength to laugh like Naelahrys, she would not weep nor cry in pain. I must be brave. Instead she was led to the gardens and across the courtyard, and noticed both the Hound and Ser Meryn following them. She closed her eyes and thought of Naelahrys, as he talked of her bearing a son to him, and she felt repulsed, but knew that she had no choice.
"When you've had your blood, I'll put a son in you." Joffrey snidely remarked, as he continued pulling her arm, to wherever they were going.
"If I have a girl or my son is stupid, I will have you killed and have that bitch, Naelahrys, birth my children. That is all she seems to be good for." He remarked, smirking.
Sansa winced, and knew that would never be. She shivered in disgust and horror, as she did not want neither of them to birth his children, but then she looked on impassively towards him.
"I thought she was a crone." Sansa muttered, before she could surprise herself.
"What…what was that? I did not hear you, speak up!" Joffrey mocked, smiling lecherously at her, and the nodded to Ser Meryn, whom smacked her across the face. Sansa was led towards a balcony, and began to grow confused. Where are we going? And looked on nervously at Joffrey as they walked.
"I have a surprise for you, Sansa." Joffrey stated, smirking and then pulled her forward. "I want to show you what happens to traitors."
Sansa looked up and then closed her eyes, letting out a startled sob at the sight. No, please no! Her head was forced upwards and her eyes pried open as she seen Joffrey, and then cried out.
"You promised to be merciful!" Sansa shouted. "You lied!"
"I did show him mercy, I gave him a clean death." Joffrey insisted, walking along the path towards the row of heads on spikes. "If it had not been your father, I'd of branded him, flayed him and watch as he went down on his hands and knees and begged for death, and only then would I have finally killed him."
Sansa stopped breathing, as they walked up more steps and onto a thick stone wall walk. That is when she saw them and gave a whimper. More heads mounted on spikes about four or five feet apart from each other and she recognised most of them. They were facing the city so that everyone would know what happens to a 'traitor' and in Joffrey's eyes, she knew everyone loyal to Naelahrys or the North, was a traitor, and that must mean she was a traitor too, as she was loyal to her friend and her home. She watched him impassively as he had a smug grin on his face, she had finally gave up wanting to fight or retort back, after Ser Meryn slapped her in the face again, until her lip was bloody. Joffrey walked along the walk way and pointed up to the heads, and she was forced to look.
"See this one? This is your father right here. Now, look at him." Joffrey demanded, gesturing towards her father's head. How long will it be until my head will be by his side?
She peered up without hesitation, and it did not look like her father, it did not look like him, as the dead skin was rotting and sagging, and there was patches of baldness. That isn't him, it can't be. Please, by the Gods be merciful.
"Well, what do you think?" Joffrey asked, mockingly.
"How long do I have to look?" Sansa whispered, peering at her Lord father.
"So long as it pleases me." Joffrey snidely remarked, looking disappointed at her lack of reaction.
"If it pleases Your Grace." Sansa muttered, staring up at her father.
Sansa surprised herself she expected herself to wail and cry in agony and sorrow, but she remained silent, and thought of dragons. Naelahrys would burn your Kingdom to the ground, and with you in it. He continued to point at the heads and then at a familiar woman. And Robb, he will bring winter to you…and Arya, she'll stick that sword of hers in you.
"That there, that's your Septa." He noted, smiling.
Sansa held back a sob of horror, and clenched her hands together tightly, until she could feel bone. Her Septa still wearing the cloth that was always adorned around her head, and her wrinkled skin was loose and like that of her father.
"I'll tell you what, I'm going to give you a gift. After that bitch hatches my dragons, I'm going to raise my armies and kill her and your traitor family." Joffrey remarked.
"Or maybe they'll give me yours." Sansa muttered, coldly and then looked him in the eye. She'll hatch her dragons and then burn you alive. She'll kill you like you killed my father.
Sansa felt satisfied as Joffrey looked taken back by her statement, and she then regretted it. Had she caught the madness that was plaguing Naelahrys, but no she did not. I defied the King. Sansa continued to glower at Joffrey, and showed no fear as tears stung her eyes. I do not care, not anymore.
"A King should never strike his Lady. Ser Meryn." Joffrey ordered, recovering from the insult.
The knight then smacked her across the face, causing her head to jerk each time. Her lip split deeper than before and blood began to trickle down her chin. Sansa looked upon Joffrey, with little to no emotion as he scowled, and walked closer, his eyes narrowing further.
"I see you've been plagued by Naelahrys madness." He stated, and then a smirk came on his face. "We'll have to beat it out of the both of you, I guess. Before it becomes a habit."
Sansa looked towards the inner edge of the wall and then Joffrey, and then to the row of heads, and began to judge the height. She slowly glanced back at Joffrey, and slowly approached Joffrey, hurrying in her walk. If we die together, I don't care. He'll go to the hells, and I'll see my father.
Just as she neared Joffrey, Sandor Clegane broke her trance by grabbing her by the shoulder, and dabbed the blood from her split lip.
"Here, girl." He said, kindness in his tone.
Sansa was led back from the edge and near the stairs, and Sandor griped her arm, gently. Joffrey recovered from the confusion as to why she was near him, and then with amusement in his tone, he looked towards her.
"Take her to Naelahrys' chambers, I'll see you in court with my dragons." Joffrey spat, and began to walk away with Ser Meryn at his side.
"Come on, girl." Sandor said, pulling her along with him and down the stairs.
I may not be a wolf like Arya, I may not be a dragon like Naelahrys, but I am a Lady and a Lady is not weak.
Naelahrys Blackfyre
"Naelahrys…Naelahrys...please…wake up…"
Naelahrys groaned and whimpered in pain, moving slightly. She opened her eyes, and looked at the chambers with blurred vision, and saw Maester Pycelle hovering above her, and Sansa sitting by her bedside, she refused to let Maester Pycelle leave her sight, and watched as he took a step back and coughed.
"W-What's happening? Where am I?" Naelahrys asked, hoarsely.
"I fed you milk of the poppy among other things, to awaken you. Though, I cannot ease your pain, completely." Maester Pycelle said, in a hushed voice, "I shall take my leave now, the King has requested that you do not leave the chambers nor Lady Stark, as he desires that you hatch the dragons."
Maester Pycelle left the chambers, and Naelahrys turned her attention to Sansa, slowly sitting up and hissing in pain with each movement. Sansa reached towards her and gently helped her, and smiled softly at her. Naelahrys gave her a nod, and leaned forward as Sansa handed her goblet.
"Thank you, you were very brave." Naelahrys spoke softly, complimenting her. "Joffrey is a bastard."
"Lord Varys left you a gift." Sansa whispered, and placed a small jar in her lap, which caused her to gasp in wonder and fear.
In her lap was the most dangerous fire known to man, and she had it placed in her lap. Although it was a small jar it was filled with a green liquid. Wildfire. Something, she knew enough about. She carefully lifted the concealed glass towards her face, and then glanced at Sansa, whom was looking at her and the jar, with curiosity.
"Naelahrys, what is that?" Sansa inquired.
"Wildfire. The most dangerous fire known to man, and is known to be more violent with age, you said Lord Varys gave you this?" Naelahrys questioned, glancing at Sansa.
"Yes, he said to give you a message, he said 'Valar Morghulis'. What does that mean?" Sansa said, struggling to pronounce the words that were foreign to her. Valar Morghulis.
"Those are ancient words he spoke off, do not pay any mind to them." Naelahrys stated, firmly.
Valar Morghulis. All men must die, eventually, it is inevitable. But first they must serve, Valar Dohaeris. They exchanged small smiles, and they found a slight bitter happiness, but that was cut short when the doors of the chambers swung open. Naelahrys jolted back, startled by the sudden movement and noise. Four Kingsguard emerged from behind the door and into the chambers. They were clad in full armour, one of the guards lifted up his visor, revealing himself to be Ser Amory Lorch, and her blood ran cold. He was the man that killed my sister. She watched his movement impassively and he looked her in the eyes, and a smirk made its way onto his lips.
"Naelahrys Targaryen. Sansa Stark." Amory Lorch addressed. "Come with us."
"What for?" Naelahrys demanded, hissing at the man, clutching the wildfire tightly in her hands.
"The Queen wants to see you."
Naelahrys stumbled out of the bed, and limped to stand in front of Sansa. "Why would the Queen not come here herself, why would she send her sons men to fetch us? Sansa and I are not leaving these chambers." Naelahrys stated, firmly. "Until the Queen herself arrives, leave the chambers and wait outside like a good little knight."
"Mind your tongue, girl. I am sworn knight of the Kingsguard." Ser Lorch hissed, clenching his teeth together. "You obey my orders."
"I don't obey the orders of a child killer." Naelahrys spat, fiercely. "Now leave!"
Ser Amory growled lowly, and pulled down his visor and gestured towards herself and Sansa. Like trained horses or perhaps dogs, the soldiers obeyed, walking towards her and Sansa. I am not weak. She hastily placed the wildfire on the bed, and threw herself at the guards. She struggled against them with ferocity and ignored her body as it screamed at her in agony, instead of whispers she heard this time, she heard roars, beating down on her head like a drum.
"Sansa!" Naelahrys shouted, sparing a glance at the auburn haired girl, as she grasped a soldier's chin, digging her nails in. "Run!"
"W-what about you?" Sansa stammered, standing still. She didn't want to leave me.
"Run!" Naelahrys screamed again, as they began to draw out their swords.
"Grab the bitch!" yelled Ser Amory. "She's just a little girl!"
"I am not a little girl, I am a dragon." She whispered towards him, as they cornered her near the bed.
"Then dance with it, girl. Breathe it." Ser Amory sneered, spitting on the ground at her feet.
"I will." Naelahrys hissed, as she glanced behind her at the wildfire in the glass, sitting almost innocently on the bed.
"Sansa, be gone! I will not ask of you again!" Naelahrys shouted, "Run!"
"Not without you, they'll hurt you!" Sansa cried out.
"Go!" Naelahrys cried, "for the love of that you hold for your father, run! Go, now!"
Wailing, Sansa spun around and ran out the chambers. Naelahrys panted, after her struggle with the men, thinking of her own situation. Ser Meryn and his men stopped in front of her, and he slashed his sword at her face, causing a cut to run down the side of her face. She winced but stood her ground, unbowed, unbent, unbroken. Naelahrys knew that she could not kill these men as she was defenceless and was out numbered, but it gave Sansa time to escape.
Naelahrys. Naelahrys. Naelahrys.
She could hear the roars within her heard, and looked around her chambers, and then saw her dragon eggs, lined up in a row, in a wooden chest, not that different from the one back at Winterfell. She could not leave her dragon eggs behind, they were here children. A mother does not flee without her children. As she crept onto the bed, Ser Amory sped forward to grab her but she was too quick and he fell onto the bed, but she was not quick enough as he grabbed her and the men hoisted her onto the bed, she struggled and dread filled her. Will I end up like my mother? No. She will not and looked at the wildfire and struggled to reach for it.
"You're going to suffer before I drag you to the King." Ser Amory whispered, grasping her silver hair roughly. "Just like your sister and whore of a mother!"
She froze and looked him in the eye and gave him a dark smile, which caused him to scoff. Naelahrys grasped onto the jar tightly, and her purple eyes flickered to the rest of the soldiers present in the room and leaned towards Ser Amory's face.
"Do you still want to see me dance with fire, ser?" Naelahrys whispered, coldly.
Before he could ask, she grabbed the glass jar and hit him on the side of the head. Burn. The jar containing the wildfire shattered upon impact, and they could not even react. Instantly the whole chamber was set a flame, with scolding hot green fire. The knights were set alight, and their screams of pain, made her wince and shut her eyes tightly, as she blocked them out. She then opened her eyes and saw the soldiers and knights flailing around the room, trying to escape the flames, but one by one, they collapsed to the ground. Dead. The green hue burned everything in the room as she stood up, marveling, as she looked to her hands, and saw that she remained unburnt. She looked to her dragon eggs across the room beckoning her to come closer. Naelahrys continued to walk across the burning floor, and ignored the flames eating away at the corpses as she did not care. The fire roared at her, as if guarding her eggs from her, she expected to feel the typical burning that they did but did not. She felt a warm sensation, and let the fire caress her tenderly.
The clothing she had became charred and burnt, and fell off her body. Naked, she bathed in the flames as if it was a warm spring from Winterfell, and it did not take her long to reach the end of the chambers were her dragons were kept. She fell to her knees and watched in awe, her mouth hanging agape, as her eggs began to glow an unearthly colour and cracked. The fires consumed them and remained unburnt, as they cracked. Naelahrys watched in awe, her features softening, as her beautifully scaled dragon eggs cracked, and she watched the heat and fire consume herself and her children. They were hatching.
Mother of dragons.
She heard a whisper and turned her head just slight, not wanting to leave her dragons and saw nothing. The silver haired girl started to hear more voices, screams, cries, chants, as she sat there in the wildfire, as the chambers crumbled to ash around her as she stared intently at her dragon eggs and then closed her eyes, basking in the green flames.
Valar Morghulis.
Three loud cracks could be heard, each crack louder than the last, and heard unearthly screeches. For a moment, she thought her ears would start to bleed. The wildfire began to die down around her and she opened her purple eyes, and saw that the flames were no more. The wildfire was dead, and had eaten away everything that reached its path. She stood up, and felt no pain in doing so, although naked and covered with soot, she winced as her silver hair was no more and it was only reaching her ears, as it had been eaten away.
She looked downwards at her body, and saw that all evidence of the beating she received from Ser Janos was gone, and the remains of Ser Amory and his men were no more. He was ash. Naelahrys looked down in awe as she her three trembling dragon eggs, the black scaled egg she had favoured broke first and a small body tumbled onto the ground, she knelt and saw the small creature sway side to side as if it was trying to walk, and then looked up towards her, giving a soft trill. The purple one broke shortly after and a nose appeared as it pecked its way out of the shell it was encased in and the other, the green one, its head had appeared. When her three dragons were fully out of their shells, she look on in awe, and gathered them in her arms. They started crawling over her body, and the black dragon with a red hue scurried onto her shoulders and she could feel its claw dig into her shoulder, as the green dragon crawled onto her left thigh and wrapped its body around her leg, tightly and the last, the dragon seemingly of a white colour was nestled into her arms.
The black dragon screeched into the twilight, and his brothers joined in, and Naelahrys found herself to singing the song of the dragons. A song that hasn't been sung for hundreds of years, let tears of awe escape her purple eyes, as her dragons began to coo at her.
Mother of Dragons.
Hi! Hopefully you like these updates! I'd like to thank everyone for all the favs, the alerts, the follows and of course, the reviews! If you have any questions about anything, feel free to ask.
Reviews-
proverbsrus: Thanks for following! As much I'd like to do Sansa x Naelahrys, I'm keeping her independent for now. (but I might do a series of a.u's in the future!)
Hazzamo: Hopefully three more chapters will help :)
Xtg: Yep, I've just put up three more chapters and will continue to do it daily!