𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔪𝔬𝔲𝔱𝔥 𝔟𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔰 𝔭𝔬𝔢𝔱𝔯𝔶, 𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔣𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔢𝔯𝔰 𝔟𝔩𝔢𝔢𝔡 𝔭𝔯𝔬𝔰𝔢.
→ * . & ━━ 𝐈𝐍 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐂𝐇 i introduce
you to my too-many ocs.
𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐑. meet my ocs.
. & → art in cover by...
nesaela was born and raised in kings landing, in the red keep. as a child, her life was comfortable. she never went hungry; had tutors and musicians come to teach her from across the seven kingdoms; slept on a bed with pillows made of the softest feathers in the world; and lived in a castle. her only downfall was that her father didn't love her. three failed miscarriages her mother had before birthing her: and she turned out to be a girl. so while her older brother rhaegar received all his love and attention, nessie was pushed aside to be cared for by her mother. it had always hurt, despite how much nesaela had tried to convince herself it didn't.
nessie grew up to be skilled in music, the arts, and poetry. a strange girl sometimes lost in the clouds of her own thoughts, she was downplayed by everyone around her as a silly, delicate little princess, lost outside of reality.
when she was ten, rhaegar had snuck her outside the castle's walls and taken her hunting. he'd placed a bow in her hands and they'd ridden through the forests, wild as the night. by the time the sun nearly rose, and they began their adventure back to the castle, nessie knew she loved archery. he'd gifted her a bow in the weeks after, a beautiful thing nearly as tall as she was, and strung with just enough tension that she could loose arrows without strain. it had become her passion-something which she could hide from her father and train with in secret.
nessie was around that age when she began having unusual dreams-dragon dreams, the targaryens of old had called them-of a great dragon with opal eyes. she dreamt of it each night: riding it through the sky, fighting by its side, the twisted metal crown which sat on her head and the fire in her veins, and a mysterious girl who never showed her face. visions, they were, visions of the future, both near and far away. though she couldn't have known that at the time, there had always been something about the dreams which had felt impossibly real, as if she'd always understood how a dragon's scales felt beneath her fingertips.
