The Last Golden Princess

Dragons will be Dragons

Spring, 87AC. DRAGONSTONE. 

Winter had become a memory by the time the third moon rolled around, Spring was well and truly underway.

Rhaella Targaryen was never an arrogant individual, however even she had to admit her idea to change temporary residence wasn't a bad one by far.

Viserys had a larger pick of friends on the island who didn't just want to use him for his status, as well as a training yard to master the art of sword.

Daemon had a much more Valyrian styled library for him to indulge in and he found the Dragonstone maester was much more lenient than the one back at Kings Landing.

And the temporary head of Dragonstone was none other than the Princess herself. She had found the people listened to her command rather than seek out her Father or Husband's. But her own command wasn't the reason she had chosen to take up Dragonstone residence.

Her mother had never explicitly discouraged having a dragon as she herself was at any moment she could on dragonback. Yet, for someone who loved their own dragon so much, The Good Queen Alysanne had never pushed her daughters to try for one.

Aemon and Baelon were expected to have dragons as the heir and the spare of House Targaryen. Aemon at 17 with Caraxes and then Baelon beating him at 16 with the mighty Vhagar.

Alyssa had been encouraged by their own father to claim Meleys at only 15, beating both the elder brothers.

Vaegon, Viserra and Maegelle showed no interest in dragons, Daella was scared to death of them, Saera tried and failed in claiming a dragon and Gael was far too young to care.

Putting that aside, Princess Rhaella had ended up in the dragon mount.

Holding a torch, she wondered through the caves not quite knowing where she was supposed to be going. She knew as a Targaryen Princess she was supposed to know about dragon lore however, admittedly, she didn't. She knew there were a few hatchlings and smaller, younger dragons in the mount somewhere.

Considering her lack of dragon knowledge and the fact her father was definitely going to kill her before any of the dragons did, the Dragonkeepers on the island advised her to search the higher levels for a hatchling or egg.

The Dragonkeepers had told her the beast Cannibal was lurking probably much lower in the mount whilst the one they named Sheepstealer was probably living up to his name and the chances of seeing the last wild dragon were little to none.

A young dragon would grow and one day be able to protect her. She only needed a hatchling to become a dragon rider one day.

The mount was a warm place obviously yet every step she took forward she seemed to be getting chillier. Upon entering a large clearing of rocks, she felt a shiver crawl its way up her spine. A cold breeze made its way through her as her hairs stood on edge.

The breeze seemed to be blowing harder against her back now, almost pushing her forward. When she made no effort to move from her spot, she found herself surrounded in a cloud of mist.

Fuck

The Princess turned slowly as if she knew what end was coming. Perhaps father will finally allow Baelon to wallow in being a widow in peace now. She couldn't help but smirk at the thought. Although her boys would be...
Her boys.
Her boys.

With a new sense of determination, two dark purple eyes stared right into a stormy grey one.

The grey, almost white dragon resembled the morning mist that surrounded Dragonstone's sunrises.

Issa brōzi iksos rhaella targārien, tala hen conciliator se se sȳz dāria. Nyke nykeā zaldrīzoti tala. 

(My name is Rhaella Targaryen, daughter of the conciliator and the good queen. I am a dragon's daughter.)

The beast paused its huffing and raised his eyes. For a moment she thought the dragon might just let her be.

Eyes held fierce contact for more moments than was truly necessary. Staring into eachothers souls. Reading the other. Was she worthy enough. Or was this her end.

It was at this moment The Grey Ghost of Dragonstone closed his eyes and bowed to his Ghost of a Princess.

The two were so commonly connected it would be foolish to deny the similarities; both could walk around their prisons without notice. The white on the dragon matched her classic Targaryen hair and the misty smoke of Grey Ghost could be mistaken for his princess's fortified mist few could see through.

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The Library was quickly becoming Daemons favourite place; not that he'd ever admit that to his elder brother. Dragonstones collection of Valyrian books were unmatched to anything he'd ever seen and he didn't even need to put much effort into convincing his maester to read them to him.

His Grandsire's Grand-Maester Elysar would never allow such teachings.

"Prince's of the realm need to learn the ways of the realm, boy."

He would lecture with a hint of disappointment which was never used with dear Viserys. Of course Viserys knew all the lords name at age 5. And of course Viserys knew their words and of course Viserys knew their lands. It would be a scandal to suggest otherwise.

Maester Gerardys on the other hand, practically resembled a Cheshire Cat when Daemon suggested they learn something of more interesting subject than some Vale Lord's words.

The young Prince and middle aged Maester had become fast friends sharing in stories of the older man's knowledge of Valyrian culture.

Daemons thirst for knowledge was evident to the Maester who reported it back to his princess with a smile.

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Hi, this was more of a filler I wanna do a 7 year time skip to 83ac because that's when things start going down and the floor starts setting for the dance. So probably one more chapter of them so little and then cheeky bit of succession crisis? Xxxx