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⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ °• ☼ CHAPTER ONE: GOLDEN CRADLE ☾ •°⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯
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PRINCESS NESAELA DAENYS TARGARYEN was born in the Autumn of 266 AC, when the birds flourished through the sky on wings of gold and blue, and orange, browning leaves fell to the earth.She was a calm baby, not like Rhaella's and Aerys' previous child, Rhaegar. Her mother would say that the ocean breeze and wind could quiet her quicker than her own words, and though Nessie couldn't remember, she would sit and watch the lapping waves on her mother's knee.
Nesaela was the first child born after nearly ten years of miscarriages and stillborns, therefore initially being the source of Aerys' pride after a decade period of anger and hostility towards his wife. Upon Nessie's birth, there had been a great procession leading through the heart of King's Landing. Gold and green had glittered through the sky, sailing past bright black and red Targaryen banners. Her brother Rhaegar, a young boy of seven, had run with the knight and horses that day, raising his own silver banner representing hopes for prosperity, before the handmaidens caught him. Music had been played joyously and it was then that Rhaegar first plucked the strings of a harp. The echo of lutes had hung in the air.
Princess Nessie had been gifted with a great many things: golden horses to sit along her mantleplace; crowns and dresses of thousands of kinds for when she came of age (ocean-greens, mauves and violets, blues and pearls and millions of colours of sea foam); enough books to line the entire southern wall of her room; and a half-burnt, silver and blue dead dragon egg from the shores of the shadow lands of Asshai, gifted to her by Barristan Selmy. Each of them sat on the dresser in the nursery now. The sun glinted off the blue scales of the dragon egg and reflected in gold droplets around the room.
A golden cradle sat at the centre of the room, fluttered with ocean-green drapes from the window. The sea breeze filtered through in soft wafts of salt and sand, and the sun was warm on the two onlooker's faces. Queen Rhaella, golden hair framing her goddess-like face, watched over her baby daughter in the crib. There was a golden tiara placed on Rhaella's head. She was bathed in silver and rose-gold silk, which draped over her thin arms and rose out at her legs. But her face was pale and hollowed, dark circles beneath her purple eyes, body thin and jagged as if a puzzle had tried to piece itself together, but not got it quite right.
King Aerys II stood beside his wife, if a little distanced, long white hair falling over his shoulders. Though his face had been hardened over the years, weathered with scars and wrinkles, Aerys' grim lips were twisted into a smile. His magnificent black and ruby-speckled crown caught the rising sun.
