𝐢𝐯. quality of a god

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When the morning came and Alys and Ceryse went to awaken the Princess, hoping perhaps to get on her good side and help her prepare herself, they found she was not there. In a rush of panic, they came running to where they knew Visenya and Maegor had been breaking their fast that morning.

"She is gone." Alys cried as they burst through the door, only to be met with the calm looking mother and son.

"Good morning to you too, ladies." Visenya said cooly, taking a sip of her tea. As calm as ever. Maegor, however, raised a brow.

"Who are you talking about?" He asked gruffly, not even looking at the two as he stared out at the makeshift dragon pit.

"The Princess." Ceryse gasped, out of breath. "The Princess Alyssara."

"Oh." Visenya said with a little shrug. "Yes, she has gone."

"Gone?" Maegor asked, raising a brow. "What?"

"Please, make your face more normal Maegor." Visenya tutted, setting down her cup and standing. "You look about as dimwitted as those wives of yours."

Ceryse and Alys practically shrunk back at that.

"Mother." Maegor stated, jaw clenched. "Where is Alyssara?"

"I believe what she said was, 'only fat cunts wait for the dinner to be served, I am going to get it myself' or something along those lines." Visenya said as she cleaned the corners of her mouth with a napkin before setting it down and seeing her son looking expectantly at her. "I believe she has gone to win you your kingdom, Maegor."


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By the time Alyssara had reached Crakehall, the Faith Militant had it surrounded. They were seeking the heir of Aenys, their now dead enemy. Little did they know, that by the time Alyssara would be finished here, their armies and the heir of Aenys would be dead.

Commanding Vyara with an eloquence that matched how loyally her dragon followed her commands, Alyssara flew the realms third largest dragon to circle around the castle thrice for each head of the dragon.

The survivors of the attack of Alyssara and Vyra the viper, though there were little, would remember that fact. How they fought and fought against a snake in the sky but each arrow, each sword, each axe they through merely fell back onto them. But then they remembered the fire.

How it engulfed them, how those whose eyes weren't melted would watch their friends skeletons burn to ash. How it swallowed them, how those who could still smell did not smell smoke but instead now knew the smell of skin burnt by flame. How it scorched them, how those who still had their tongues could taste their friends melted flesh.

But their last thoughts, their last sight, their last memory would always same thing.

Alyssara Targaryen, lording over them all.


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"My princess, I thank you so very greatly." Lord Alistair Crakehall thanked Alyssara as she slid from Vyara's back after landing within the courtyard. "We will never be able to repay you of this debt."

"The time will come, my lord." Alyssa said with a soft, kind, sweet smile. "But for now, I am merely glad my siblings are safe. Will you show me to them?"

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐃𝐀𝐘 | maegor targaryenWhere stories live. Discover now