Chapter Eight: The Blade Blackfyre
Today was the day Alynna had known was nearing her entire life.
As Maegor's mother Visenya had conceived him using sorcery, Tyanna would bestow the same curse upon her husband. Maegor the Cruel had Alynna's mother, one of his black brides arrested for the suspected interference with the other brides' pregnancies. The mysterious Tyanna did not require to undergo torture however, as she had volunteered a confession before the gaelors had even commenced their work. Maegor would become enraged, her mother had suspected. It was all part of her plan. At the exact moment her cruel husband decided to channel this rage to open his Pentoshi bride's chest with his Valyrian blade Blackfyre, she spoke words of a foreign tongue, the words dispersing throughout the room only to vanish like smoke. Her mother had not seen it fit to share the specific details of her daughter's conception with her, but she had told her she performed a ritual upon him, utilising the power of his king's blood.
Of course, none of the gaelors or Maegor himself would retain any memory of that day, insisting that Maegor dealt with his "bitch wife" by cutting out her heart with his cold, Valyrian steel, only to feed it to his dogs. Alynna knew better. Her mother and she were cut of the same cloth.
The secret passageways in the Red Keep were built by her father, and when his mother would spell him, he would show his wife and his daughter every corner, every hidden door, each corner at which sounds of important chambers echoed, only to forget ordeal the next day. The passageways became her playground. She had learned every passageway, and most of all, how to traverse them unnoticed.
She was built like her father, strong and square. But where her father was quarrelsome, Alynna was cunning, where his eyes had been angry, hers she could turn soft and seductive with the blink of an eye. Where he had been unmatched using weapons, Alyna was a natural prodigy of sorcery. A skill that did not only come from her mother's teachings of advanced training and practice, it was also amplified by the blood of the two most powerful sorceresses to have set foot on Westeros running through her veins: her mother Tyanna's and her grandmother Visenya's.
It was that very agent Alynna knew to be the strongest ingredient for magic. Today, she felt a mixture of pride and melancholy knowing her mother would lay down her life so that Alynna may win her birthright.
It seemed so poetic, Alynna had been born of the sword, her father's king's blood absorbed its Valyrian steel, preserved by her mother's ancient spells. It took her nearly a decade for Tyanna of the Tower to successfully conceive from the blade, but when she finally did, she knew her daughter would fulfill her ambitions and avenge the conspiritors.
She watched her mother complete her sacrifice, the only person that had ever know her. She knew she would have to be strong because know, one was able to best her, with blood-magic fortified Blackfyre in her hand, the martial skill of every Targaryen who had ever wielded the Valyrian blade was bestowed onto her.