-Let it be known that a Targaryen has been born-
The night was dark and a storm raged across the already bleeding lands that had been ravaged by the war. A war that had cost them a king, mad as he was he was still their king, the beloved prince, his dornish wife and their two children. Now a stag sat on a dragon's throne, wearing the crown forged by the mighty dynasty of old.
The remaining dragons fled to their ancestral seating on an island in the Crownlands. Dragon stone was built more to be a military stronghold rather than a castle but still the familiar design of their homeland brought comfort to the refugees. Massive dragon gargoyles watched over the queen and the magic of old Valyria kept them safe from the outside storm.
Waves crashed against the cliffs and thunder rumbled its mighty echoes around them. Thunder lit up the dull room in flashes of bright white. The prince, Viserys- a boy of twelve summers with pale white hair and lilac eyes full of worry for his suffering mother had already spent nine months in the cold castle, having been declared king there already after the death of both his father and brother. He was perched on a stool besides his feverish mother who was struggling with the birth, already her eyes were turning dull and her already pale skin translucent.
Rhaella had heard whispers that her servants and remaining men were planning on selling them out to the Baratheons. Stannis was reportedly already on his way for another attack. The former queen was defenseless against their forces, having just finished giving birth to two of her children and being unable to move from her bed meant she could not stop anyone from doing anything.
The only one allowed into the room was Teri, a woman of 30 summers and born in the flea bottom of King's landing. The woman was short and chubby. Teri had a long brown dress that had been made from the curtains of one of the bedchambers, it was stained with her queen's blood. Her face was aged with heavy wrinkles and tired, sunken in eyes that had lost its spark.
The first born, Daenerys looked like any other Targaryen- pale silver-white hair, lilac eyes and pale skin. Her mother had dubbed her 'stormborn' because of the storm raging on outside of their walls. Already they could see that it would be a strong woman.
The second born, Alisa, looked different. Her skin was as pale as her hair, her eyes a vivid and intense red, but unlike her sister her eyebrows and eyelashes were a matching white. Alisa had been born albino. Still, Rhaella couldn't find anything to complain about in either daughters for in her eyes they were both perfect and beyond stunning. Unlike her sister's more violent name, Alisa had been given the name 'Fireborn' for she had been born just as a great fire rose outside of their window, the same color as her unusual eyes. And fire was what Rhaealla could see in the eyes of her youngest.
Daenerys 'stormborn' Targaryen and Alisa 'fireborn' Targaryen. A storm and a burning inferno. Both dangerous on their own but together... Together they would be unstoppable.
"Viserys." Rhaella whispered with a tired smile and dull eyes. The boy of 8 summers, with hair pale as snow, dim lilac eyes and a beaming smile, looked up at his mother.
"Yes, mother?" He asked her with anticipation in his voice.
The queen groaned as she tried to sit up with the twins in her arms. She whimpered as she fell back down again. Teri rushed forward and helped the woman sit up without hurting herself or the newborns. With the help of her trusted servant Rhaella finally sat up in the birthing bed. Slowly and with shaky arms Rhaella gave the twins to her servant to hold while she recovered. Her limbs felt like lead and her eyelids weighed a ton.
"Come meet your sisters." She replied in a tired manner, her eyes threatening to fall shut at any second as all her energy left her body. "They're beautiful, aren't they, Vis?" Her hand blindly tried to find her last son's arm before clenching it. "Promise me that you will take care of them."
"Mother?" The boy asked with a shaky voice, his hand dropping to hers.
Rhaella pushed herself closer to him with the last of her remaining energy. Already she could feel the darkness coming closer and her time running out. "Promise me, Viserys. Promise that you will take care of your sisters."
Viserys' lower lip wobbled as tears filled his eyes before slowly falling down his chubby cheeks. "You'll be with us, right?"
His mother shook her head gently, her own tears falling from her bloodshot eyes. Rhaella placed her hand over her mouth to muffle her sobs. "I will always be with you in your heart. Watch over them for me, raise them to be good. Promise me, Viserys, promise me that you will do this for me." Her voice cracked several times as she tried to force the words out of her throat even though all she wanted was to lay down and close her eyes.
"Don't leave me!" Viserys cried and threw himself over his mother. He wrapped his arms roughly around her neck as he sobbed into her neck. "I don't want you to go."
Rhaella shivered. "As long as you remember me I will never truly be gone." She told him with a teary smile. It was bittersweet to tell her son the last bit of advice she would ever give him. Rhaella coughed several times before she turned serious. "Be better than your father. Don't succumb to the madness in our blood. You can be better, I know it."
Viserys stilled before slowly drawing himself away from his shivering, crying mother. "I promise." He dried some of the tears that had stained his cheeks. "I will be better and I will watch over my sisters. Whatever it takes."
"Whatever it takes. Never forget where you come from, fire and blood." Her voice was thick as she repeated their house words. "You are a dragon, never forget that."
He shook his head frantically, clutching the wooden dragon in his hand. The two older dragons in the room looked at each other numbly, both realising that this was the last time either of them would speak to each other. Soon the war would have claimed another of the nomble Targaryen, the queen.
With the last bit of pride she had in her Rhaella looked to her servant and her two other children. Two parts of the dragon, the dragon has three heads- Viserys, Daenerys and Alisa. The last of the Targaryen dynasty. Three beautiful children with too much responsibility on their shoulders and already a huge price on their fragile heads. They alone shouldered all of their heritage and history.
"Teri."
"Yes, m'lady." The older woman rushed towards her queen with the two babes in her arms, clutching the future of the Targaryen family in her tired embrace. "What is it?"
"I thank you for your loyalty towards my family." Rhaella began speaking. She could barely hold her eyes open any longer. "But I would like to do this last part alone. My children shouldn't have to see me die."
"But m'lady-" Teri tried to protest with a rather scanalized look on her wrinkled face. "Surely you cannot mean that we are to leave you to die alone!"
"That is exactly what I mean." Rhaella snapped, her eyes narrowing and mouth curling down. "Consider this my last command to you. Take my children and hide them from Robert Baratheon and his allies. Don't let the dragons die."
"As you wish, m'lady." Teri reluctantly answered, bowed and then scurried out of the room with the newborns in her arms and Viserys right behind her.
The door slammed shut behind them and Rhaella sighed out in relief. Finally some peace, she thought and closed her eyes. Slowly she felt the comforting darkness claim her and the pain of life ebb away.