𝐆𝐎𝐃𝐒 & 𝕯𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐎𝐍𝐒 || 𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚛𝚊𝚐𝚘𝚗

I. 𝓟𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄

The 98th year after Aegon's Conquest brought hopes for the future of the ruling house when the grandson of King Jaeherys I , Viserys I and his wife , Aemma of house Arryn were proudly announcing the birth of their second born daughter , Aelora Targaryen .

The story of such event is better off without the daintiness of what the maesters will have to say about my fable , about my life . after all , how could they truly know what happens in a girl's heart ? Their multifaceted ravens and ears in the walls may preserve the facts and their sharp tongues may find excuses to interpret what actually happened but this is not that type of boring analysis .

At least that's the bare minimum i deserve. To be redacted as a person , as myself and not someone else.

So let us start this chapter together .

For those who never had the hindrance of being born a girl in a family of rulers , i shall let you know that before the sounds of celebration commenced , there was a minute of silence and agony that was clearly covered by the piercing shrieks of a newborn babe but i can assure you it was there , in the heart of the kingdom and my father's.

A lineage that lacked male heirs was put in a great disadvantage and pushed a few steps farther from the crown's right. It was a layer of thin ice that we were walking on and my very first years were sure to be known as marked by such side of reality .

Unfair as most things could turn out to be , how could a little girl take on the world's whisper and prove that no genital hidden behind a pair of trousers could make one more worthy of making their father proud ?

So i grew up a rebel . A constant defiance against my own vessel , refitted and corrected as if my silly actions could deceive the grown ups into believing that it was a misunderstanding , that i was in fact a boy !

Yet no matter how many wooden swords i have broken , how often i'd sneak and cut my own silvery hair nor the numbers of dresses i've dismissed for the pants and tunics , every step that i thought will get me closer to bringing a smile on my father's lips would grant quite the opposite .

Aelora Targaryen . The heir who has never been .

The whole court of King's Landing and Dragonstone combined could spew as much as their dry mouth could take about my name . My dream was true . At that time I believed the hesitation was reserved until the hatching of the Dragon Egg promised at the birth of most Targaryens .

Certainly , the thought of becoming a dragonrider comes first before anything else . The sole toy that I have preserved the heartiest has been a mere depiction of a winged reptile that little me visualized as the great future that has to come and fulfill the prophecy of a true heir .

An awful handful of scenarios and pretextes casted my mind from the repulsiveness of how the Seven Kingdoms operate , finding girlhood in a constant clash with the real world .

That is my fire .