Caro Morticina

Valyrian Demigods of Westeros - Daughter of Vermax

Lady Laena Velaryon held Princess Rhaenyra's hand as she screamed, stuck in the birthing bed for the 5th time. Her brother, Ser Laenor, stood on the other side of his wife, wincing at the hold she had upon his arm but supportive and encouraging. Very few men chose to join their wives in the birthing rooms, declaring it against propriety but Laenor cared deeply for Rhaenyra and would not see her endure this pain alone.

With a final scream, the midwife was able to remove the babe, using a knife to cut the life chord from her body. Wailing, the woman happily announced, "A girl, your highness. Healthy and joyous to be here."

Rhaenyra laughed, as the babe's wails softened. "Clean my daughter first, then I shall hold her."

"Right away, your highness."

The midwife rushed towards the small bath that had already been prepared and began cleaning the babe of fluid and blood, gently cooing to soothe her.

"Do you have a name for her, dear sister?" Laena asked, taking a rag to gently wipe away the sweat upon her brow.

"We do. She shall be Princess Visenya, Second of Her Name." Laenor could not help the cheeky grin that appeared, quickly catching his twins attention.

"What did you do this time?"

Switching to High Valyrian, Laenor explained, "We contacted Doran Martell to talk of uniting Dorne and Westeros. We spent moons conversing through letters and creating a contract for Dorne that would allow them to keep the independence they so desire without being allowed to rise against us. Their are conditions, for both of us, and ours happens to be that our next daughter shall marry their 3 year old son, Prince Trystan Martell, when she comes of age."

"If she wishes to. I will not allow my daughter to be forced into a marriage she despises," Rhaenyra added, wincing and gasping as the afterbirth began.

Luckily, the afterbirth was quickly epxpelled and the healers were able to tend to her. Laenor was forced into the sitting room so they could see if Rhaenyra needed stitches or just the ointment. Visenya was quite small and had slipped out in the height of day after barely a few hours of pushing.

The ointment the used would help her heal and prevent infection, a common disease women caught after giving birth. A cold wetcloth was brought to Rhaenyra to help with the pain from her womb, much to her relief.

"I wish to see my Visenya. And my husband," She added as an afterthought, making Laena snort.

"So dear sister, tell me, did you invite Dorne here for your birth? I heard rumors that a delegation arrived late last night but I was far more worried about you to question it."

"They did come. We plan to announce the contract as well as the betrothal in a few days time. I offered to allow them the chance to meet Visenya first in a more familiar setting, so that Prince Trystan may meet his future wife."

Visenya was gently placed into Princess Rhaenyra's arms as Laenor was let back inside. He smiled down at the adorable babe in her arms, reaching out to run a finger over her little chubby cheek.

She had thick curly silver-white hair, inherited from her father with the same dark skin. Her eyes though were the most beautiful shades of green either of them had seen, stunning all three of them.

"Didn't your grandmother, Princess Alyssa have a green eye?" Laena asked, leaning closer to the babe who cooed.

"She did," Rhaenyra agreed, smiling down at Visenya who reached up to smack at Laenors hand. "Did you pick out an egg for her? Or are we allowing her to claim one as her siblings did?"

"I thought it would be best to give her an egg due to her betrothal to Prince Trystan Martell," Laenor admitted. "I picked one from Dreamfyre's latest clutch."

"Good."

The door opened and a maid stepped inside dipping into a shallow bow. Laena scowled at the disrespect.

"You are in the presence of the future Queen, the Crown Princess, the future King, the Prince, and a Lady of a Royal House, wife of a Prince. You will show us the respect we command," Laena snapped, blue-purple eyes sharp as seaglass. The maid flinched back and dipped into a far deeper curtsy.

"I-I have a message. From the Queen," The maid stated, voice trembling, though none could tell if it was from fear or fury.

"Queen Consort," Rhaenyra corrected. "Queen Consort Alicent is not a Targaryen and as such is not gifted the title of Queen as my mother was."

"What is the message?" Laenor asked, frowning.

"She wishes for the babe to be brought to her before the ceremony so she may greet them. The Queen Consort was upset that she has not been granted the priveledge of meeting her grandchildren before they were introduced to the Realm."

Rhaenyra, Laena, and Laenor had all gone still before the Red Keep shook beneath the fury Vhagar voiced, making the maid flinch.

"Laena," Rhaenyra stated, staring down the maid. She switched to High Valyrian. "Find my uncle and the delegation from Sunspear, bring them to the Queens Apartments. Let them see how the Future Queen is treated."

"Your uncle is with the King, Rhaenyra. Hopefully he will see the kind of woman his chosen consort is. Green as her dresses," Laenor stated, grinning sharply at the woman. "Our mother and father would be most upset to hear what their gooddaughter is going through as well."

"Yes, they will." In a swirl of skirts, Laena dissappeared.

"Get out," Laenor ordered. "We shall bring our child to the Queen Consort ourselves."

"I could take the babe, ser."

"If you lay a hand on my child, I will order them to be removed," Rhaenyra snarled. "Tell your Queen Consort that I will come myself for what kind of mother would I be if I passed my child onto another."

The maid gaped at the blatant insult but scurried away as Ser Harwin, who had entered when Lady Laena had left, reached for his blade. He left behind her, closing the door as the servents, maids, midwives, and healers stared at the door in shock.

"Your highness," A midwife, Laya, began, "It is too soon after the birth. You could hurt yourself from walking."

"The Queen Consort has ordered my presence. Dress me. Please." Her maids immediatley rushed forward, pulling on one of her silk hose and pulled her hair into a simple, messy braid that fell down her back. A soft robe was then pulled over her shoulders and Visenya was cradled back in their arms.

The clothes she had chosen were done on purpose. Alicent would expect a show of power but this would show the Lords and Ladies of how cruel the Queen Consort was, and bring more to her side.

They were interrupted when the egg that had been placed in the fire, cracked and began hatching. A beautiful creamy white hatchling crawled forth, stubby horns of pale gold glinting and black frills swaying as it moved. Laughing to herself, Rhaenyra allowed the hatchling to clamber up her robe and perch on her shoulder, giving it free range to look down at Visenya.

Rhaenyra murmured a quiet thank you to the Gods who had so far shown to be protective of their children with her. Laenor appeared behind her, gently supporting her.

"Shall we, dear wife?"

"We shall, dear husband."

Together they made their way through the halls, Ser Harwin and two healers behind them. They earned odd looks as the Crown Princess was dressed in night clothes, holding a babe, with a hatchling perched on her shoulders. Immediatley whispers spread, so Rhaenyra played into it.

Her voice trembled, "Why would she do this, Laenor? Is she not a mother herself? To order me to have my babe taken to her when she is freshly born? What have I done to the Queen to deserve this?"

She made no attempt to keep her voice low as Laenor soothed her, shaking his head. Around them Lords, Ladies, and servents alike shook their heads in disgust.

Upon arriving at the Queens Apartments, they were met by the Dornish Delegation, the King, Prince Daemon, Princess Rhaenys, and Lord Corlys all of whom looked angry.

Princess Elia looked furious, arms crossed over her chest as her husband, Prince Dorian loomed at her side. Ser Cole looked shocked, furious, and afriad all at once as the King ordered him to open the door.

Queen Consort Alicent turned towards the door as it opened, a poorly concealed smirk on her lips. "Princess–"

She cut herself off, paling as the King stared back at her, flanked by his family and a group of Dornish strangers at his back.

"Husband, what–"

"Did you order my daughter . . . to bring her newly born child . . . to you?"

"My king, I would nev–"

"Ask her maid, Father. The one who came into my rooms, blatantly disrepsected me, and told me the Queen commanded my child be brought to her," Rhaenyra interrupted, looking at the maid who paled dramatically.

"Well," Viserys snarled, looking every bit the dragon he had once been. "Did you? As your King, if you do not tell me the truth, I will have you imprisoned!"

"It's the truth! Queen Alicent sent me to the Crown Princess' rooms to bring her the babe!" The maid nearly sobbed. Alicent looked horrified as the hatchling perched on Rhaenyra's shoulder shrieked in victory.

As Princess Rhaenys and Princess Elia tore into the Queen Consort, absolutely furious that she would abuse her power in such a way towards a member of the royal family.

Noting that it was taken care of, Princess Rhaenyra was taken back to her chambers to rest before the feast that night.

At the feast, Princess Rhaenyra and her husband stood before the masses with the Martells to the right and the King to their left, using a cane to keep his balance.

"Lords and Ladies of the Realm. You have been invited here today to be informed of not one but two miracles," Laenor announced.

"The first is our daughter. Introducing, Princess Visenya Velaryon, Second of Her Name," Rhaenyra called, lifting the babe higher as the crowd cheered. "Whose egg cracked and hatched barely two hours after her birth!"

The dragon on her shoulder shrieked, rearing up to flap its wings.

Lifting his hand, the King called for silence. "When my ancestors came to Westeros, they tried to force Dorne to bend the knee but they fought back. Each King after has tried to do the same, demanding Dorne bow to their true King. But none succeeded. No King was able to bring Dorne into the fold. But the future Queen did.

"A contract has been drawn up for Dorne to be formally added into the Seven Kingdoms as long as a Targaryen Queen or King sits the Iron Throne. As per the treaty, Princess Visenya Targaryen and Prince Trystan Martell shall be betrothed and married upon her six-and-tenth nameday!"

Cheers made the hall itself tremble as the true Heir's supporters made themselves known. Lady Jeyne could be seen holding Princess Alyssa with Prince Jacaerys at her side while Lord Corlys held his heir – as the titles had been relinquished from Ser Laenor. Prince Maegor was in Prince Daemons arms alongside his cousin, Princess Baela as her mother carried her twin sister, Princess Rhaena.

Prince Aegon's supporters, who had grown weaker over the years, gave false cheers, seeking out the Queen who wore black and red upon the order of her husband. Much to Crown Princess Rhaenyra's delight the woman looked pale and washed out in the regal colors of the Royal House. It was a stark reminder that Queen Consort Alicent Hightower was no true Queen for even Aemma Arryn, who was oft bedridden, had looked absolutely stunning in black and red, her maternal house colors.

The strength of the Blacks grew and grew, furthered by the birth of Crown Princess Rhaenyra's fifth child, and second daughter.

Princess Visenya Targaryen, Second of Her Name, Future Princess of Dorne, Future Princess of Sunspear, the Traveler, the Diplomat, the Intelligent, the Learned, had been born.

Sample

Still not sure if I'm going to make this a series but this kind of a sample of what it would be about.

The old Blackwood Monastery loomed ahead of them, a shell of its former glory with crumbling stone walls, rotting wood, and vines climbing along the sides.

"Why the heck have we never seen this place?!" Jay demanded, as Sensei Garmadon pushed through the rotting, rusty black wood and iron doors that led into the main courtyard. The man sighed at the moss that had overtaken the stones and the miature lake forming off to the side where the dirt had sunk over the 50 years since it had been abandoned.

"We abandoned it after the Emporers Army attacked us to get our main forces away from the Monastery so they could . . . So they could steal the children. Unfortantely they managed to succeed and took one of my closest friends son. Her and her husband died trying to rescue him," Garmadon admitted, closing his eyes as the image of Eteri and Aryan flashed in his vision.

"The Emporers Army?" Kai asked, wrinkling his nose. Sensei Garmadpn tool the distraction, turning to them.

"Wu has not–" He interrupted himself at the deadpan look he recieved. "25 Years or so before the Serpentine Wars the Emporer made a decree that all Elemental Masters were enemies of Ninjago and were to be imprisoned or killed."

"What?!"

"How was that allowed?!"

"They were killed!!"

Lloyd raised his voice above them all to be heard, "What happened?"

Garmadon sighed, leading them into the Monasteries halls as he spoke, "We believe a rogue Elemental Master attacked the capitol, killing the Emporer's wife though it was told to the masses that it was an accident. Seeking vengeance, he wanted every Elemental Master dead so there would no longer be those with the power we hold."

"But an Elemental Power passes on after death. Does it not?"

"It does, Zane. But he refused our talks of peace, even when Wu stubbornly clung to it and continued to try to find peace when war was inevitable." Sensei Garmadon could not help the old anger that seeped into his voice.

"Why did Sensei want peace so badly?" Cole asked.

"Our father taught us to keep the balance, and Wu took that to mean we had to keep the peace. Using our fathers old Monastery, he sheltered Elemental Masters who refused to fight or were simply to old or young too. Blackwood Monastery became a symbol of war. I took those who were angry, who had lost family to the massacre and began forming a group of my own."

Garmadon gestured to the wall of the library he'd led them too. Taking up an entire wall, surprisingly undamaged, was a painted picture of 9 people all holding weapons and posed with their weapons.

"Whoa," was the agreed upon sentiment. The picture itself was surprisingly detailed and they all gathered closely to get a better look.

"Who-whose that?" Nya asked, reaching out to lightly touch the figure of a woman holding a spear and very obviously controlling water.

"Jiang Daiyu, the Master of Water and known as the Tide-Bringer," Garmadon stated, a fond smile ticking up the corner of his lips.

"Jiang?" Kai asked. "Like Jiang Mei Lien?"

"Mei Lien was her daughter, and her children would be Daiyu's grandchildren."

Nya turned back to the picture in awe, "That . . . That's my-our grandmother?"

"Yes."

"You've known this entire time who our grandmother is! How could you not tell us?! You're just as bad as Wu!" Kai snarled, the air warming in his anger.

"I did not tell you because I had wrongfully assumed you would be aware. And by the time I realized I was wrong, you did not need to know about the previous holders," Garmadon stated, shaking his head.

"We want to know," Zane said. "So tell us everything."

They all nodded, so Garmadon did.

The picture of a man in armor holding a knocked bow with flames curling around his feet, "Keahi Kalama, the Master of Fire. Known as the Wildfire Archer, and was Ray Kalama's father."

The picture of a man in little armor with a war-hammer balanced on his shoulder with what looked like cracks beneath his feet, "Gerald D'Angelo, the Master of Earth. Known as the Unbreakable Shield, and was Lily D'Angelo's father."

The picture of a man in little armor and a kimono holding two long blades with spikes of ice by his feet, "Aspen, the Master of Ice. Known as the Bringer of Ice, and was the last known Master of Ice until Wu found you, Zane."

The picture of a young man in a kimono top, holding no weapons as lightning curled along his exposed hands, "Petir, the Master of Lightning. Known as the Blue Serpent, and was Libby's father, likely your grandfather Jay."

The next picture was a man in samurai armor with a rice hat covering most of his face, as smoke curled around the twin katana's in his hands, "Aryan, the Master of Smoke. Known as the Ghost of the Samurai, ironic considering his son."

All of the ninja frowned, trying to figure out what that meant as Garmadon tapped the last picture.

It was a woman, levitating in the air with a ninja GI on, long sleeves exposing the Tessens in her hands as her hair flew around her face, a vivid green streak the center piece, "Eteri, the Master of Wind. Known as Tempest, and was Aryan's wife. She and Aryan had a son that was taken from them. They named him Morro, after the way the wind curls around a mountain."

Morro had gone completely still, staring at the two pictures. The only movement any of them could see was the tremble in his fingers. "You- You knew my parents?"

"I did. I considered Eteri a sister, and had she lived it is likely she would have been Lloyd's Godmother as she was also close to Misako. Unfortunately I was not close to Aryan, but I believe the only one of us close to him was Eteri," Garmadon explained, smiling slightly at the pictures. "Aryan was a Samurai, one of the last, and he preffered to be alone but Eteri . . . She was stubborn. Eventually she managed to convince him to come to the Monastery and he became a part of our group, of . . . of the family we'd created."

The smile fell away as Garmadon remembered the tragedy that had befallen them. "Morro, your parents did not abandon you. You were kidnapped from the Monastery and they did everything they could to find you but it wasn't enough. They died, Morro, fighting to get to you and they were not the only ones. Keahi and Petir died trying to find you, leaving behind their own children because of their loyalty to Eteri." Reaching out, Garmadon set a hand on Morro's shoulder as the teen stared at him with trembling green eyes. "Your mother, and your father loved you with everything they had. Never doubt that."

Morro pulled away, stomping deeper into the Monastery as they all watched.

"So, my grandfather seriously died trying to save him?" Kai asked, jerking a thumb in Morro's direction.

"Keahi considered Eteri to be his younger sister, and was named Morro's Godfather. All things considered, had things gone differently, Morro likely would have been your uncle, and even your godfather because of their close relationship," Garmadon stated, amused by the way both Kai and Nya recoiled in shock.

"What?!"

"No way!!"

Jay cackled, loudly, so Garmadon turned his gaze on him, "Your mother likely would have named him as your Godfather as well, especially if Morro had been raised by Aryan and Eteri." That shut the ninja up real quick.

"Is the same true for Cole?" Zane asked, tilting his head.

"It is likely yes."

"Wait, my mother seriously would have . . ."

"Lily's parents were close to Eteri as well. We all were. As I said earlier, we became a family becaise of the war, a bond we forged in blood, death, and sacrifice."

Damian Al Ghul - Wayne

- Birthed through an artificial womb because he needed specialized care while in the womb; It also spared Talia the labours of pregnancy

- Hybrids need specialized care because they get some traits from one parents and other traits from the second parent; Diets need to be carefully monitered

- Damian is part Black Nightwing, part Asiatic Jade Dragon, part Black Mamba

- Long, thin serpentine body with powerful black wings; A Yinglung

- Diamond hard, mottled black and dark forest green

- Powerful, bat-like wings with strong wrists tipped in two 'fingers' that he can balance on

- Black mouth with inward curved teeth for catching and eating fish; Four hooked claws, like an ospreys, for catching fish

- Black horns pointing straight back

- Specialized ankles that can roate backwards like a squirrels

- Thin, angular face with long silvery whiskers

- Awkward flier because his mother couldn't teach him to fly like her, cause she doesn't have wings, and none of the League has wings

- Unknown if he'll breathe black plasma or poisonous gas

Achilles Al Ghul - Wilson

- Birthed through an artificial womb because he needed specialized care while in the womb; It also spared Talia the labours of pregnancy

- Achilles is part Sand Drake, part Asiatic Jade Dragon, part Black Mamba

- Bulkier than his half siblings, but longer than his sire; A lung dragon

- Impenetrable scales with thick skin, dark brown scales with darker moss green segmented armor-like scales along his spine

- Large paws with hooked talons; Straight canines in a black mouth like a coyotes or wolfs

- Powerful tail tipped in a venemous stinger; Fangs positioned in the front of his mouth filled with deadly venom

- Flies through the air with magic; Not as graceful as his mother because of his sire but just as fast and stronger

Matteo Al Ghul - Santana

- Birthed through an artificial womb because he needed specialized care while in the womb; It also spared Talia the labours of pregnancy

- Mattheo is part Everburning dragon, part Sand Lindwurm, part Asiatic Jade Dragon, part Black Mamba

- Thin serpentine body with thick feathers covering most of his body; Feathered Yinglung

- Front and hind legs can fold flat against his body so he can slide like a snake through sand

- Diamond hard, emerald green scales speckled with golden-brown

- Thick, luscious feathers in several shades of green and white along the edges of his face, neck, wings, and down the spine that glow with embers

- Black mouth with fangs situated at the front of the mouth filled with corrosive venom; Straight fangs like a wolf or coyotes

- Large paws tipped with hooked claws

- Large wings have sharp foreclaws to cling to trees and other objects

- Feathered tail leaves smoke trails when he flies sometimes

Valyrian Demingods of Westeros - Son of Caraxes

High Tide was lit by the brilliant flashes of lightning dancing in the sky, as her white walls were pelted with heavy rainfall. Within her walls, one could hear the screams of Princess Rhaenyra as she gave birth to another child, just over a year after the birth of Princess Alyssa.

Prince Jacaerys would be turning three within a few scarce months with Princess Alyssa's birthday following only 3 months later. Both were being cared for by their grandparents, Lord Corlys and Princess Rhaenys, as their father, Ser Laenor, supported her in the birthing room.

Unfortunately King Viserys, Queen Alicent and their children had stayed behind in the Red Keep, believing that Princess Rhaenyra would be able to return to give birth. But a storm had halted their ship, and the little one was quite excited to emerge during the storm.

Bouncing Alyssa in her arms, Rhaenys stood by the window and was witness to the spectacle as the sea calmed and the storm abated within moments, bringing forth the slightest hint of the sun. "Corlys," Rhaenys whispered, awed by the spectacle.

Her husband joined her, curious smto see what had his wife so shocked, only to be shocked as well. "The storm . . . I have never seen one stop so suddenly," Corlys admitted. Alyssa giggled, curling close to her grandmother peer over her shoulder.

Sat on the floor, Jacaerys stared back, smiling happily. "He's here," Jace said, climbing to his feet as Alyssa nodded.

"'Uke!" She cried in delight as the door was opened by a guard. The maid bowed, hair in complete dissaray and panting heavily.

"The Princess . . . the babe . . . a boy . . . both healthy," The maid gasped.

Rhaenys and Corlys stared at their grandchildren who were looking back at them expectantly. Genuinly confused as to how the children had known, they picked then up and carried then to the birthing room where they were greeted by a slightly frazzled looking Laenor, an exhausted Rhaenyra, and a babe swaddled in Velaryon blue-green silk cradled within his fathers arms.

Dmiling, Laenor held out his arms so the four could look, "Father, Mother. Alyssa, Jacaerys. I would like to introduce you to the future Lord of the Tides, the Heir to Driftmark and High Tide, Lucerys Velaryon, blessed by the storms and the tides themselves."

"What?" Rhaenys asked, eyes going wide as Laenor gently manuevered a little arm out of the swaddle, revealing a birthmark in the shape of Caraxes, the God of the Seas, Water, and Storms, mark. 4 stars facing the cardinal directions with a singular star in the center and ancient rune across the pale center of the star.

Corlys glanced down to Jacaerys, who hair barely hid his own crown shaped sigil with the rune for Justice upon the center and the runes for king on the sides, just as Rhaenys glanced to Alyssa, whose mark was weirwood branches along her collarbone that formed a circle at the hollow of her throat with rune for peace inside said circle alongside a feather and torch.

"Laenor," Rhaenys began, gaze sharp but worried. "Why do all three of your children have birthmarks in the shape of the sigils of Arrax, Tyraxes, and Caraxes?"

Two sets of eyes stared widely at her, nervous. Rhaenyra shifted, wincing at the pain as Laenor looled around the room so he wouldn't meet the eyes of his parents.

"Laenor."

Laenor's gaze snapped to Corlys at his tone, a fire gathering in their depths. "You forced us to seek out other methods for I to give Rhaenyra trueborn children. We found a method and now you have three heirs for grandchildren. That is all you need to know. I will be taking mt children now, they need to get to know their new brother, if you would excuse us."

His clear dismissal hurt but they put down his children and left, unsure of what to do, except send a letter to the King and his family to inform them of the new birth.

In King's Landing, within the Red Keep, Queen Alicent and her children were forced to listen to King Viserys read the letter aloud.

'Dear Cousin,

You will be most disappointed to hear that Rhaenyra was unable to give birth in the Red Keep, but she gave birth during one of the worst storms Driftmark has likely ever seen. When her son was born the sky calmed, the rain stopped, and the tides receded and everything was peaceful as if there had never been a storm in the first place.

We are delighted to send word of the birth of Prince Lucerys Velaryon, Heir to Driftmark, and future Lord of the Tides. Born with the Velaryon locks, eyes, and skin, we can only wait for his skills at sailing to emerge like his brother and sister's skills did.

Rhaenyra and the children are all doing well. She has spoke of the ease she has felt here on Driftmark and have told her that our home will always be open for her, no matter the circunstances. We are unsure of when she will return but it will likely be upon dragon back so I, Rhaenys, shall go as well so they don't have to carry two toddlers at once.

The Targaryen-Velaryon grows ever larger with the births of Prince Lucerys and the previous births of Lady Baela and Lady Rhaena.

Congratulations cousin on earning another grandchild.

Yours in blood, Princess Rhaenys Targaryen, Lord Velaryon'

The absolute joy the man expressed at the ketter had the Queen picking at her nails, even as her children just watched or ate, content to ignore their father as he did them. She hated Princess Rhaenyra for birthing yet another child with the Valyrian features, but she did not understand the tidings it brought.

Yet another blessed child to aid the Blacks and the future of House Targaryen.

Prince Lucerys Velaryon, Second of His Name, Heir to Driftmark, Future Lord of the Tides, Stormborn, Undrowned, the Sea Dragon, the Sailor, the Red Star, had been born.

Son of Arrax

King of the Gods, God of Justice, Law, Order, and Governance.

Queen Alicent Hightower stood at the balconey of her apartments – the lavishly furnished Queens Apartments – eyes unfocused as she looked down towards Aemma's Garden, only recently finished by the wrokers sent by Lord Tyrell as a gift to the pregnant Crown Princess. From where she stood she could smell all the different flowers that lined the beautiful garden and surrounded a pavillion carved from the same white stone the Eyrie was made of.

She waited impatiently for news of Princess Rhaenyra's labors, praying to the Seven that she would have a girl, furthering Prince Aegons claim. The skin around her nails was torn to shreds with drops of blood falling to the stone beneath her feet, but she hardly noticed.

Surely King Viserys Targaryen, her husband and Princess Rhaenyra's father, would finally see the craven whore his daughter was after she birthed the bastard of Ser Harwin Strong. He had allowed her to run rampant, giving in to every whim and wish she had. Why just recently he had given her the Heir's apartments! Only slightly smaller than the Kings own apartments and far larger than her own, which was just disrespectful to her, the Queen! Princess Rhaenyra and her heathen husband now had an entire floor within Maegor's Holdfast to themselves and their 'household', while she only had a single corridor filled with rooms!

Aegon deserved to have the Heirs Apartments as the Kings Firstborn, not the Royal Whore of the Red Keep and her Sword-Swallowing husband!

But no matter how many people she told the truth, those who adored Rhaenyra gave her everything. Her Uncle, Prince Daemon the Whoremonger himself sent ships of men, servants, healers, and midwives, an entire household of those he had personally vetted as the letter that had accompanied them had boasted. Alongside those ships were those filled with jewels, cloth of all kinds from Essos, Pentos, and the Free Cities, toys for the babe, furniture of all kinds for Princess Rhaenyra's new Apartments all sent by Lady Laena, Prince Daemons wife.

Lord Corlys was much the same, sending for the most exotic fruits, vegetables, seafood, and meat his money could buy. King Viserys had not only gifted her the Heir's Apartments but everything the Late Queen Aemma had owned from dresses to jewels, leaving her, the true Queen who had done her duty, to buy new ones after all of hers had been taken. It was humiliating to have to buy an entire chest of jewelry!

Lady Jeyne Arryn had also sent gifts, including the stone for the pavilion, such as old items that belonged to Princess Daella Targaryen and Queen Aemma Arryn. She even sent objects that had once belonged to her grandfather, Rodrick Arryn, much to the shock of everyone.

The entirety of the North had sent her gifts as well, from furs to men, simply out of loyalty and of course the Tyrells had built the princess a garden that was then named after her mother, planting four Weirwood trees in the corners of the garden much to her displeasure.

Fortunately Princess Rhaenys seemed to realize that the child was a bastard and the Baratheons had followed her lead in not interacting with the couple outside of what was deemed respectable. She was oft seen conversing with her son, conversations that ended with him storming away in fury, after the Princess likely tried to convince him of his wifes sins. But the poor man was besotted. No man had ever doted over their wife the way Prince Laenor did.

A quiet knock pulled the Queen from her musings. The door opened allowing Ser Criston Cole, her loyal guard to poke his head inside, "It is Tayla. She says she was sent with word of the Princess' labors."

"Let her in, Ser Criston. I wish to hear the happy news," Queen Alicent stated, tucking her hands behind her back.

"Of course, Your Majesty."

Tayla hurried inside waiting for the door to close before speaking. "The Crown Princess has given birth to a boy, Your Grace."

Queen Alicent scowled for only a moment before smoothing her features back out. "Do you know how the Princess fares? Does she suffer the same as her mother, the late Queen, did? And the boy, tell me of his looks? Who does he resemble more, his mother, his father, a relative perhaps?"

"The Crown Princess is well, already up and moving from what I saw, Your Majesty. She refused the wetnurse the King offered, told everyone within that she would not let her son be fed by a stranger when she was right there with milk to spare," Tayla smiled at the memory of the Crown Princess. "And Crown Prince Jacaerys Targaryen is beautiful, My Queen. A perfect mix of his mother and father."

The smile fell from Queen Alicents lips, "What? What do you mean?!"

"The babe had the hair color of his mother but its curlier, I believe. And his eyes are from her too, but his skin color is more like his fathers. I was not close enough to see his facial features but I could hear Lord Velaryon and the King celebrating him."

Queen Alicent stared at the servent silently before commanding, "Take me to them. Now. I wish to meet the newest member of the Velaryon family." She made sure to emphasize the name Velaryon, believing the maid had mispoken but she did not correct her self.

"Of course, your Majesty. The Crown Princess has been taken back to her Apartments in order to rest." Tayla turned to lead the Queen to the Heir's Apartments as Ser Criston Cole fell into step behind her, white armor gleaming as his cloak fluttered dramatically.

The walk was considerably shorter than Queen Alicent expected but that did not make it anymore pleasant. The walls of the entire third floor of the Holdfast had Valyrian Tapestries depicting family members and their respective dragons, starting with Daenys the Dreamer. There were even Velaryon tapestries hung up, pictures of sea creatures of myths and legends that made Queen Alicent shudder.

The halls were lit with dragonglass latterns that threw beautiful patterns along the walls. The group of three passed by several members of Princess Rhaenyra's Household, including Lady Sara Snow, Lady Annara Celtigar, and Lady Mara Karstark.

The large black wood door at the end of the hallway had Syrax, the Princess' dragon carved into the wood and filled with gold, the large green emerald eye acting as the handle. Standing outside was Ser Harrold Westerling and Ser Arryk Cargyll, the Kings guard for the day, Ser Harwin Strong and Ser Erryk Cargyll, the Princess' Guard, as well as six other guards, Velaryon and Arryn based upon their armor were posted in the hallway.

Ser Strong opened the door, calling into the room, "Queen Consort Alicent of House Hightower." He stepped out of the way, eyeing Ser Cole, who was smirking haughtily.

They knew his secret.

Sweeping inside, Queen Alicent found Princess Rhaenyra resting upon a beautiful, cushioned chaise, her youngest lady, Lady Sera Dondarrion, working oils through her long, golden-white hair.

"Ahh, my dear Queen!" King Viserys called, sat upon an armchair with his grandson cradled within his arms. "You will be most delighted to see what the Gods have gifted my dear grandson!"

Her smile nearly fell, but she quickly plastered it back in place, "A gift from the Seven-Who-Are-One? I would be delighted, husband."

"Come, come," King Viserys said, using his head to gesture her over. Coming to stand at his side, purposefully displacing Lord Corlys, who ignored her to focus on his grandson, she looked down, fully expecting a carbon copy of Ser Harwin Strong, no matter the reports of Tayla.

Instead soft, thick, curly golden-white hair formed a halo upon his head, the sunlight that streamed through the window giving it a soft glow. Purple eyes, the same as Rhaenyra's down to the color and placement of the darker black specks, stared back at her though she noticed a strange sheen to them, seemingly giving them a golden tint when the sunlight them. Dark skin, though a few shades lighter than Prince Laenors or Lord Corlys', though it was likely that it would darken if he became a sailor like his grandfather and father.

"Look," Viserys murmured, lightly brushing back the curls piled onto his tiny forehead. In white lines upon his forehead, etched into his skin, was a crown with a strange rune in the very center.

"It means 'King'," Lord Corlys stated, smiling widely. "Its an Old Language, shared by the First Men, Valyrians, and Ghiscari. The last time I saw anything like it was while I was visiting Old Ghis."

Laenor rolled his eyes as the two dads shared a laugh, while the babe cooed, turning his attention to his father.

"Does he have a name?" Alicent asked, voice tense. A glance to Rhaenyra told her that she could hear the tone change and was amused by it.

"Prince Jacaerys Targaryen, First of His Name, and Heir to me, the Heir to the Irone Throne and Heiress to House Targaryen. Tonight we plan to announce him to all the Great Houses," Princess Rhaenyra stated, smile softening as she looked to her babe.

"I congratulate you, Princess. Your Mother must be looking down upon you in happiness for your success, from the Strangers Embrace," Queen Alicent said, trying to hide a sharp smirk as Rhaenyra's gaze flashed.

"Lady Helaena, your dearest Mother, one of my own dear mothers companion must be looking upon me favorably as well. It is a shame she left so young, but she lives on in the paintings you or your father must have. At least I can look upon the mirror and see my mother at times, but you, my lady, are the perfect imitation of your father," Rhaenyra grinned, teeth sharp and poised at the throat. Alicent nearly gaped at Rhaenyra, shocked by the low blow. The Princess knew she had no paintings of her mother because they were too expensive for a second son to afford.

"Thank you," Queen Alicent barely hid a snarl with a false smile. "My husband, I fear I must return to mine own chambers to ready myself for the feast tonight."

She pressed a kiss to his cheek to hide the hatred and anger she yearned to let them see.

"Of course, my dear. I shall see you tonight then." The king was far more focused on the babe than he was his wife, not even registering the kiss on his cheek.

Queen Alicent stalked outside, Ser Cristin quickly falling into step with one last look towards Ser Harwin.

How could Rhaenyra have said something so cruel! Her father was right. This was no longer her friend but her enemy. Aegon would take his rightful place upon the Throne. Viserys would eventually have to see the truth, that his daughter was unfut to rule, that women were unfit to be in places of such power.

From now on she had to begin finding allies for herself, especially now that her father was no longer the Kings trusted Hand and advisor. Her first act would have to be discrediting the rumors that were sure to appear once people saw the birthmark upon Prince Jacaerys' forehead.

Nearly flinging her door open she ordered the servent within to find her best green dress. The maid bowed and scurried into the adjacent chamber to find one while other servents were called to bath her.

For two hours she allowed herself to be pampered, both in the bath and outside it, before allowing the servents to carefully lace up the beautiful generald green dress with tight sleeves, a high neckline, and beautiful green detailing around the bust and waist, emphasizing her small figure. After Aemond she had easily dropped the added pregnancy weught, something she doubted Rhaenyra would be able to do.

Queen Aemma had always looked swelled, or unhealthy and it wouldn't surprise her if Rhaenyra was the same.

Crown Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen smiled as Cylia and Morgana Strong carefully aided her towards her bathing chamber, where a steaming bath awaited. Maester Mellos, who the King had allowed in after Queen Alicents departure, had tried to insist that a hot bath was unhealthy but the healer had disregarded that. Apparently the woman had helped Saera Targaryen give birth several times and the older woman always felt better after a steaming bath. It was a Targaryen thing, she said.

Rhaenyra could see the different herbs one of the other healers had added and could not help but ask, "What kind of herbs are in here?" She sank into the water with a near moan, muscles relaxing.

"Yarrow to reduce swelling, lemon balm to keep fevers and sickness at bay, and witch hazel to help the healing process," Healer Ana answered, carrying over a cup of tea. "Your grace, I suggest drinking nettle tea for the next three days in order to quicken the healing process. It shall also aid in milk production to make your son grow quicker and healthier."

Nodding, Rhaenyra took the tea, relieved at the warmth that slid down her throat. Luckily it had been sweetened by honey and the slightest bit of milk so she could ignore the bitter tasting liquid easier. "Thank you."

"Of course."

She was happy to note that Healer Ana had remembered her decision to breastfeed Jacaerys herself, rather than passing him off to a wet nurse as most did. Her and Laenor had agreed that they could not trust anyone, so it would be safer, and seemingly healthier according to the midwives, for him to feed from her.

For a good hour she soaked, drinking several cups of tea during the time, as Morgana and Cylia painted her nails a beautiful dark red, a very expensive shade her goodsister had sent her. Once the water had cooled, she was dried and dressed in a plain towel so Sera could braid her hair in a simple crown.

The dress she chose was black with red and gold trim, long draping sleeves filled with soft fur, made in the Northern style. It had been a gift from Lord Rickon Stark and his young son, Cregan Stark, and one she quite adored. Pulling it on, she admired the softness as she swept out of her dressing room, finding all three men still cooing over little Jacaerys.

"Father, Goodfather, I believe you the feast will be beginning in an hour," Rhaenyra said, smiling at the slight panic both men obviously felt.

"Ahh, you're right, my dear," Viserys pressed a kiss against her cheek as his eldest gently took Jacaerys. "I shall see you tonight for the feast."

"As will I. You did well, my son," Lord Corlys stated, clapping Laenor on the shoulder. He gave his father a strained smile, escorting the two from her Apartments, before nearly slumping against the door.

"I can not believe him sometimes. Did you see his face when we introduced Jacaerys?!"

"Did you see the Queens? She looked as if she sucked a lemon when she saw our little boy."

Laenor laughed, vividly remembering the shocked look upon her face, as well as the look on her face when she saw his marking.

"I must admit, I was surprised by the marking as well. I know Arrax told us he would lay claim upon his . . . our? . . . son, but I did not realize it would be so visible," Laenor admitted, lightly brushing his fingers over Jacaerys' forehead, smiling at the quiet coo.

"It is a boon either way. The servents, healers, and midwives that were present during the birth will gossip, and after tonight, when all the Lords and Ladies we invited see it they will know that Jacaerys is my rightful heir. The Greens will see that he is no bastard, that he is more Valyrian than the Queens half-breed children."

Laenor grinned, pressing a kiss against her cheek. "I love when you get all viscious. Unfortunate that I must depart from my beautiful lady wife and handsome little boy to dress myself for tonight's feast." He pressed another kiss to her lips to further seal the act, having noticed Sera emerge from her dressing room, before taking his leave.

The Great Hall was beautifully decorated with tables made of oak holding dragonglass vases filled with flowers, red, black, sea-green, and silver silks across the tables. Every seat was filled, with every Great House having arrived within the last two weeks and several smaller Houses having been invited as well.

House Hightower, House Redwyne, House Lannister, and House Bracken all wore green, whether it was a dress, jewelry, or a doublet. Everyone else within the hall wore black alongside their House colors, filling the hall with an array of colors.

House Targaryen and House Velaryon sat at the largest long table situated at the front of the hall, with nearly all of them in attendance. Princess Rhaenys, who had yet to be introduced to her grandson, had a pinched look upon her face, much to Ser Otto Hightowers delight.

It was very obvious to everyone that she thought, knew, that Prince Laenor and Crown Princess Rhaenyra's newbirn son was a bastard, likely begotten by Ser Harwin Strong.

The doors swung open, "Announcing Crown Princess Rhaenyra of House Targaryen, Heir to the Iron Throne, Heiress to the House of Targaryen, Future Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, and her husband, Prince Laenor Velaryon, Heir to Driftmark, High Tide, and to the House of Velaryon, Future King Consort to Crown Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen."

The announcer did not give the name of the babe swaddled in Prince Laenors arms, giving the Royal Family that opportunity to officially announce him and his titles.

"My dearest daughter," King Viserys called, standing from his seat at the head of the table. "Lords and Ladies of the Realm, I must say today is a glorious day for the combined Targaryen-Velaryon. My heir has had her own heir and secured her lineage."

"Thank you, father. Thank you, Lords and Ladies, for traveling so far to be here with us on this joyous occasion. While I am before you tonight I wish to address the rumors about the birth of my son," Crown Princess Rhaenyra stated, holding herself with grace. Prince Laenor eyed the Hightowers who were all sharing small sneers with each other.

"Yesterday afternoon my wife began her labors within the Throne Room, before giving birth to my son early this morning in the shadow of the Iron Throne," Prince Laenor announced, fighting back a smirk when the sneers dropped and everyone one began whispering.

"Now, I would like to introduce our son. Crown Prince Jacaerys Targaryen, Heir to the Heiress of House Targaryen, and Heir to the Heir of the Iron Throne, Future King of the Seven Kingdoms!"

The Blacks cheered for their future Queen and King as Crown Princess Rhaenyra tilted her son towards the crowd, showing them his curly golden-whitr hair and dark skin.

"Now please, feast! Celebrate!" Laenor shouted, earning even louder cheers as the two rounded the table to sit down.

"Laenor," Rhaenys murmured, purple eyes boring into her gooddaughters head. "Princess Rhaenyra."

"Mother," Laenor greeted coldly, not even deigning to look at his mother. She glared at her son, making to speak before Corlys cut her off.

"Rhaenys," Corlys began, keeping his voice low. "Just hold the boy for a moment."

"I refuse."

Laenors muscles locked in place, grey-purple ryes flashing with fire. Rhaenyra knew that if they had been closer to the Dragon Pit they'd be able to hear Seasmokes roars of fury.

"Then I believe its high time you return to Driftmark, Princess Rhaenys," Laenor snarled, viciously stabbing a clam upon his plate. "I will not have my son mocked, I will not let you give the Greens fuel to attack my wife and son. So if you are going to act like a petty child than I do not desire to have your company during this celebration, nor does my wife or son."

Rhaenys and Corlys both gaped at their son as Rhaenyra smiled, placing a hand on the crook of his arm and pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. "I thank you, husband mine."

"Laenor . . ." Rhaenys hesitated when she saw the look in her sons eyes. "Fine. Let me see the babe."

Rhaenyra was reluctant to pass over her son to the woman who had been the source of several of their problems recently but she did. Jacaerys settled in his grandmothers arms, only opening his arms once he was comfortable.

Staring down at the babe that looked so similar to Laenor as a babe, Rhaenys could not help the wave of guilt that flowed through her. "Laenor, Rhaenyra, I–"

The deep gutteral bellow of a dragon made the castle shake, scaring the guests within the hall. Wives reached for husbands as men reached for blades, looking around wildly.

"That . . . Is that not Vermithor?" Corlys questioned, standing from his seat. King Viserys sought to calm the people but another riar from the Bronze Fury only stirred them up more.

Jacaerys cooed, purple eyes gleaning as he was taken back into his mothers arms. Looking down Rhaenyra found the same love she felt for Syrax, the same she saw reflected in Laenors eyes whenever he saw or spoke of Seasmoke, and she knew.

"SILENCE!" Laenor commanded, having recognized what was happening as well. "Vermithor is not here to attack, but to claim his rider."

Crown Princess Rhaenyra swept from the Great Hall, heading towards the courtyard that Vermithor would have to land in if he wished to fit.

The Bronze Fury was stunning with scales of beaten bronze and copper, red-bronze spikes around his narrow face and along his spine seemed to shine in the light of the setting sun.

Hundreds of people, nobility and smallfolk alike, were witness to Vermithor meeting Crown Prince Jacaerys Targaryen before allowing Prince Laenor and his rider upon his back for a flight around King's Landing. There was no possible way for Otto to manipulate the circumstances to better serve him. Everyone would know what had happened that day.

Crown Prince Jacaerys of House Targaryen, First of His Name, Heir to the Heir of the Iron Throne, Heir to the Heiress of House Targaryen, the Born King, the Divine Ruler, He Who Was Born in the Shadow of the Iron Throne, the Lawful, the Bringer of Justice, the Judge, the Rider of Vermithor, the Bronze Fury, the King's Mount, had been born.

Daughter of Tyraxes

Goddess of Peace, Wisdom, Strategy, and Reason

The Eyrie was absolutely beautiful, pale white stone gleaming in the light of the moonlight. The Keep rests at the very top of a mountain, making it difficult to reach, but making it seem ethereal in a way. From every room within the Eyrie has a stunning view, with every window giving them the view of the sky, nearby mountains, or the nearby cities.

Queen Alicent Hightower despised it. Hated the Eyrie, hated the cold mountain air, hated the views, hated the servents, and Lords and Ladies of the Vale. Every look she recieved, instead of being in awe of her piousness, grace, and beauty, they looked upon her in contempt, viewing her as a replacement of the Late Queen Aemma Arryn.

They seemed to forget that the Queen was a failure, having only given the King a singular daughter while she had given him two sons and a daughter. Yet she was punished, forced to watch as his whore of a daughter flaunted her position as heir, carrying around her bastard, alongside her swordswallowing husband.

She had given him a son, the son he had killed Aemma Arryn for, and yet he was not given the title he deserved. The title of Heir that was his right as a firstborn son. It was unfair to her and her sons! Shoved to the side as he doted endlessly upon his daughter and grandson, especially now that she was pregnant again.

The whore had barely waited six months before announcing she was pregnant again, and now at nearing 9 months she had packed up the entire household to visit her mothers home. And of course, the King had done whatever she asked of him.

So now she was sitting in this too small room with seven of her ladies in waiting embroidering a new pillow, listening to the chatter.

"Did you see what the Princess was wearing?" Cassandra Baratheon asked, leaning forward eagerly. As the youngest lady, at only 10-and-1, she loved to gossip and often heard the most scandalous gossip since she was ignored on account of her age and gender.

"Northern rags," Lady Maria Redwyne sneered, rocking slowly in her chair. As Queen Alicents Aunt, sister of her mother, she held seniority within the seven ladies. "They make her look the savage she is."

"Not that these people see it that way. Have you seen how they treat her? It's as if she is already Queen," Celia Lannister stated, shaking her head. The cousin of Jason and Tyland Lannister she was just as vain and proud, forming a deep dislike for Princess Rhaenyra and her ladies.

"If only the King would see reason," Lady Leyla Brackens murmured. "A woman ruling over the Kingdoms? We'd go bankrupt in months with all her fancies and expensive taste."

"She'd probably offend everyone she talked to," Ceryse Hightower chirped, gigling with Cassandra. As the two youngest, with Ceryse being 10-and-2, they had formed a close bond of friendship.

"The men at her feet would probably ignore her actions just to continue laying in her bed," Lady Mari Ambrose scoffed, sneering. Lady Leyla and Lady Maria nodded as the two youngest giggled.

"Hush girls," Lady Anya Peake barked, severe brown eyes sharp. "If anyone were to hear your words on the Princess our heads would roll. Have your parents not taught you to whisper?"

The oldest of her ladies, Lady Anya was second only to Lady Maria, for she was Queen Alicents paternal great-Aunt. A severe, pious woman, she was normally the one to escort Alicent to the Sept to pray.

"Unfortunately my husband is besotted by his daughter, unable to see any flaws she has. This extends to both her husband, and son, as I'm sure you've seen," Queen Alicent added, sadly. "Our own children are neglected by him, and so often does he refer to the Princess as his only daughter. My heart aches for my dear Halaena."

Her ladies murmured agreements, and hopes that Halaena did not feel left out. While her words were true, she did not truly wish for him to spend time with her children because he'd share the Targaryens queer customs with them.

"One day the King will see reason," Lady Maria swore, eyes darkening. If he didn't they all knew what would happen.

War.

Lady Annara Celtigar, Lady Amanda Arryn, and Lady Sara Snow watched over Crown Prince Jacaerys as he sat beside Vermithors snout, playing with his wooden figures. A group of five Dragonkeepers stood nearby, just in case.

"I never thought I'd see a dragon acting as a babysitter," Lady Annara giggled, earning a snort from Lady Sara.

"A dragons connection to their rider is something we will never understand. The closest we have ever come is when we bonded with Griffens, or Direwolves," Lady Amanda stated wisely. Both girls, barely 10-and-6, watched her in shock and awe before realizing the significance.

Silence fell before Lady Sara muttered, "He really does look like a babysitter."

Lady Annara burst into a fit of giggles, cutting herself off when Vermithor huffed out smoke, orange-yellow eye focusing on her.

"I feel like I'm being told to shut up," Lady Annora whispered, trembling as the Dragons gaze returned to his rider. Jacaerys, with no fear, smacked his dragons snout.

"Bad. Good lady," Jacaerys called, glaring at the dragon in defense of his favorite Lady-in-Waiting. Lady Amanda and Lady Annara both cooed at his sweetness as Lady Sara smiled affectionately.

The little prince had won their hearts near instantly after his birth. While several of Rhaenyra's Ladies-and-Maids-in-Waiting had come after her historic birth, they had all fallen for the sweet little prince and they were excited for the Crown Princess' next child.

"Such a sweet boy. He will be a wonderful King when it is time," Lady Annara said.

"Unfortunately, his personality is not set in stone, Annora. It will be up to his mother, father, and us to make sure he and all of his future siblings are raised well," Lady Amanda corrected.

"Prince Laenor and Princess Rhaenyra were talking of when it would be considered appropriate to begin having lessons to be a knight," Lady Sara commented, brow furrowing a little.

"What else did they mention?" Lady Annara questioned, vivid blue eyes sharp as she lowered her voice.

"They decided that once he turned 4 he would begin watching the Knights practicing before being allowed to train at 5, and squiring would begin upon his 8th nameday," Lady Sara stated, glancing around to check for servents or others. Fortunately, few would dare come when Vermithor was there, so they had complete privacy. "Princess Rhaenyra mentioned sending him to the Wall for a time so he may be a true knight that has not just seen tourneys and jousts."

"That would be a smart play," Lady Amanda agreed, nodding. "It would strengthen his ties to the North, and show them that a good King will sit the Iron Throne."

"Allies could be made as well, but . . ." Lady Annara hesitated. "Those that take the black are often criminals, would he be safe there?"

"I doubt they would send him without Vermithor. Besides, by that time he will be fully knighted," Lady Sara corrected.

"Good. Did anyone else think that Princess Rhaenyra seemed quite confident that it was a girl?"

"Confident enough to create a contract that would make her heir of the Vale," Lady Amanda said. Neither were surprised. "While the Vale is behind the Princess, this will give them something to hold. A Princess of their own, who will one day care for them as Princess Rhaenyra does."

They understood what the older woman truly meant. When King Viserys died there would be war, and having the Vale and the North securely behind Princess Rhaenyra and her children would tilt the scales in their favour.

Lady Jeyne Arryn stood at the balconey doors of Crown Princess Rhaenyra's quarters, cradling the newest Princess in her arms. Smiling down at the babe, she could not help but see the similarity in the babes face to Princess Daella's face from the portraits her Grandfather had commisioned that were found in several halls of the Eyrie.

"She's beautiful, your majesty," Lady Jeyne murmured, completely captivated. Crown Princess Rhaenyra smiled, leaning back against the headboard as her husband, Prince Laenor, carefully wiped her forehead of sweat with a cooled rag.

"Please, Lady Jeyne, we are cousins. You have my permission to call me Rhaenyra."

"Then you have mine to call me Jeyne, Rhaenyra."

Both women shared gentle smiles.

"Thank you, Rhaenyra. You have given me the Heir I have been so worried of giving," Lady Jeyne admitted sadly.

"If I am to understand it, the boy you would have been forced to name as heir is Arnold Arryn's son?" Prince Laenor asked, leaning forward.

"His nephew, through his sisters marriage to Jackson Redfort, my Lady Jessamyne's elder brother. As the second son of a second wife he has been raised modestly these past 4 years, but we shall see what kind of man he will grow into," Lady Jeyne stated, glancing towards the bedroom door. While she despised Arnolds Line, the boy was innnocent, as was his mother.

"And if he turns out like his Uncle?" Princess Rhaenyra asked, wincing as she shifted in the bed.

"Then your daughter will be free to pick any Valeman she wishes, as long as they understand that her children will take the name Arryn."

"Good."

"May I ask what you plan to name her?" Lady Jeyne asked.

"Ah yes, our apologies," Prince Laenor said, offering an awkward grin. "We have decided upon the name Alyssa, both for Alyssa Velaryon and Alyssa Targaryen as well as Alyssane Targaryen."

"A strong, beautiful name," Lady Jeyne agreed smiling down at little Alyssa. "Mo oidhre." The Old Language of the Vale flowed effortlessly from her tongue, making Alyssa coo in delight.

In the moonlight her red-gold hair shone softly, reminding Jeyne of spun gold in sunlight, where it glowed red. The soft curls covered her entire head, nearly hiding her beautiful blue-purple eyes.

"Cosúil leis an spéir roimh titim na hoíche." (Like the sky before nightfall.)

"When I have recovered, I wish to announce her to the Vale if possible."

"Of course. The Vale will know of my heir, of your daughter, Rhaenyra."

Three days had passed since Lady Jeyne Arryn had first held her heir, since Crown Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen had given birth but no one outside of the two, Prince Laenor Velaryon, and Crown Prince Jacaerys Targaryen knew of her name, so a feast was thrown.

Queen Alicent wore a velvet green dress with golden leaves sewed into the sleeves and skirts. The design of the dress was beautiful, but the itchy fabrics it was made of made it look less so. All three of her children originally accompanied her, but Princess Halaena cried starting Prince Aemond off so the two had to be taken back to the nursury.

Prince Aemond wore a doublet of the same itchy material, shown by how he constantly tugged at it and tried to take it off. His caretaker was struggling to keep him dressed, much to Queen Alicent's irritation but there was nothing she could do.

Lady Jeyne Arryn stood before them all, with King Viserys, Crown Princess Rhaenyra, and Prince Laenor at her sides. She wore a beautiful dress of blue and white, with fabric forming 'wings' that connected to her wrist using silver bracelets.

King Viserys and his daughter wore red and black, while Prince Laenor wore blue, green, and gold complememtimg each other quite nicely.

Much to her distaste, Queen Alicent had not been allowed up onto the dais where the Moonwood Throne sat.

"After hours of hardship, my daughter gave birth to her own daughter, another Princess for House Targaryen and House Velaryon," King Viserys announced.

Rhaenyra stepped forward with her husband, hand resting in the crook of his arm, "My daughter came when the moon had risen to its peak, and just as my eldest son was, she has been marked by the gods. I have been blessed, both in birth and in life, for this opportunity."

"For years you have all worried who would take the Lordship of the Vale, of the Arryns, upon my death," Lady Jeyne stated, bringing everyones attention to her. Queen Alicents heart dropped. "Through my grandfathers second wife, Princess Daella, and my aunt, the late Queen Aemma Arryn, I am cousin to Crown Princess Rhaenyra as she is mine. Through her, her daughter holds the blood of Arryns, so I have made my decision."

With a nod, Crown Princess Rhaenyra carefully placed her daughter in her cousins arms.

"Princess Alyssa Velaryon, shall take the name Arryn upon reaching her 6-and-10 nameday, where henceforth she shall reside here in the Vale. Upon her 7-and-10 nameday she shall marry Theodore Redfort who is an Arryn through his mother to strengthen my bloodline. Her children shall inherit the name Arryn. As such, I introduce you to Princess Alyssa Velaryon, Heiress to House Arryn, and Heir to the Vale!"

The crowd of Valeman erupted into cheers that seemed to shake the halls of the Eyrie until a roar truly shook the keep. Silence fell as everyone turned their gazes to the dais.

"Sil'wing wan' her rider," Crown Prince Jacaerys announced, pronouncing some of his words wrong but getting his point across.

"Then she will recieve her rider," Princess Rhaenyra stated, taking her daughter back into her arms. The enfire crowd followed the princess to the courtyard where the she-dragon had landed. The same place where Ronnel Arryn had taken his first flight upon the dragon, Vhagar.

Silverwing seemed to glimmer in the light of the setting sun, and many thought, upon seeing the she-dragon, that she would be a perfect match for the Princess of the Vale.

Lowering her head she crooned to her rider, earning a delighted burble.

And so Princess Rhaenyra took her daughter upon the dragoneses back and took to the skies as the Greens watches in anger and the Blacks watched on in awe and delight.

Princess Alyssa of House Velaryon, Third of Her Name, Heiress to House Arryn, Heir to the Vale, The Moonborn, Daughter of the Vale, She-Dragon of the Vale, She-Who-Was-Born-In-The-Night, the Peaceful, the Diligent, the Strategist, the Falcon of House Targaryen, rider of Silverwing, the Silver Queen, the Beautiful, the Pearl, the Protector of the Vale, had been born.

Not An Update

Im having a hard time writing the next chapters of Demigods of Valyria because I just had to put my cat.

I'd only had Xena for two years after we rescued her from outside because she had severe wobbly cat syndrome and couldn't walk. Yesterday, April 23rd I had to make the decision to put her down after she had an absent seizure while I was at school. I held her as they put her down and that was the most difficult thing I've ever had to do so I'm not up to writing.

She was my anchor. I've struggled with suicidal thoughts for years and for the last two I've stayed alive to care for her and now I feel lost.

I'll try to updaye when I feel better but I make no promises.

Question???

Ok so I read a fanfic, prob yrs ago now, about the Ninja, it was a Ninjago Boyfriends Scenarios with the author including themselves as a character, Erica (I think), and they were hispanic amd really chaotic throughout the story but that made it really enjoyable and it had scenarios where all the girlfriends hung out together, like all the stories were happening at one. And now I can't find it.

Does anybody recognize this fanfic, or know if it was deleted or moved?

The Monastery of the Lost

There is a Legend that circles throughout many old villages, those that have yet to make the leap into the New Age, especially those around the base of the Howling Mountains. Elders speak of a hanging Monastery that is protected by creatures of old, creatures that were slowly killed of by people in their fear.

Eyre, Guardian of the East Gate positioned directly behind a cascading waterfall that has led many to their deaths. A Kelpie made of green tinted serpentine rock, teeth bared threateningly as a mane of seaweed falls across its back, and eyes made of rubies gleam whenever the sun hits them.

Cephas, Guardian of the North Gate positioned on the path that leads into the inside of the mountains caves, where bats chase intruders out and stalagmites fall. A Drake made of gneiss with massive claws and teeth bared in threat while its delicately carved tail wraps around the pedastool. It is said that Cephas is more a protector, prefferring to simply stop intruders rather than kill.

Yukio, Guardian of the West Gate positioned towards the snow covered paths that threaten avalanches, and ice covered rocks that are only too easy to slip on. A Kamaitachi made of granite with claws made of blue kyanite, teeth bared in a menacing expression as it prepares to leap into the air and attack.

Notus, Guardian of the South Gate positioned in the open air and only able to be entered by Elemental Masters. The South Gate is the hardest to approach because of the powerful, howling winds that whip by constantly and the dark clouds that gather when intruders approach. A Xexeu made completely of basalt with beak opened wide in a scream of thunder as black wings spread as if too take flight, and eyes made of cracked jade.

The Monastery itself is said to have dragons made of broken jade and pieced back together with silver sat atop its high walls made of polished marble, roofs of gold shingles, and pathways made of granite within the massive courtyard. Towards the North Gate stands a massive garden of all kinds of trees and flowers, several of them edible.

From the East Gate flows a river of crystal clear, drinkable water that provides the water for the entire Monastery. Because of its old age the Monastery had none of the newer technology such as lights, electricity or fridges, but it had bathrooms, running water, and an old fashioned stove.

It was enough for Morro who had, in the short time he'd been brought back to life, yet to truly become comfortable with any of those advancements. When he'd heard the Legend while staying in a nearby village, he'd dismissed it but after hearing it in the next two villages he'd passed through he'd decided to check it out.

Using his wind, he'd approached the Southern Gate and was unsurprised when the Guardian stayed stone and passed by it unencumbered. He did not notice its eyes following his every move as he made his way towards the Monastery's golden doors.

It took him several months to truly outfit the Monastery as he wanted it, though he didn't change much, but one day while he was within one of the nearby villages he heard something that had his blood boiling. Morro found a man beating a young toddler, a kid of maybe four years old, cursing about stolen money as the kid sobbed. Hidden far back in an alley, they were mostly hidden and the kids cries were far quieter than they should have been.

With a snarl, Morro sent the man flying into the wall and threatened to kill him unless he left. At firat the man tried to resist, claiming the kid was his son and he could punish him how he saw fit but Morro was not a forgiving or patient man. His second blow, this time with his fist, had the mans nose breaking beneath his knuckles in a satisfying crunch.

Cussing and crying the man fled as Morro watched with a prideful smirk. A tiny sniffle had him remembering the kid, so he turned to find said kid trying to stand even after being beaten like that.

"Sit back down, brat," Morro snapped, as the kids eyes snapped up to him, wide and fearful. Sighing, he ran a hand through his choppy hair before slowly crouching down. He vaguely remembered Lloyd having several memories of comforting kids, but he hoped it would be enough. "Are . . . Are you okay? He was hittin' you pretty hard."

The kid stared, hands wrapping protectively over his ribs, where several kicks had been delivered. When the silence had stretched on too long, Morro tried again.

"Look, I'm not . . . I'm not gonna be like him and hit you if you respond okay? I don't like men who beat on kids," Morro stated, frowning when the kid continued to stare at him, uncomprehending. "Can . . . Can you hear me?"

This time the kid nodded, slowly, eyes never leaving Morro. "You just don't wanna talk?"

Another nod.

"Fine. Yes or no. Are you hurt?"

The nod was slower as if he wasn't sure.

"Okay. Can I help you?"

The kid stared at him blankly before his lip began quivering, making Morro curse in his head. What had he done to upset the kid? He'd only asked to help . . .

"Please." The kids voice was so small and weak as if he never used it. Morro was viscerally reminded of himself when he was on the streets, chased off and beaten whenever he chose the wrong trashcan to raid.

"I'll help you. And I won't make you go back to that asshole either. But you have to come with me for that to happen."

Blinking wide, dark green eyes met pale jade as Morro held out his hand. It took a few minutes but eventually the kid made a decision and reached out for his hand.

Smirking, Morro led the kid from the alley and back to the shop he'd just left. He'd need some first aid supplies for this.

While he was inside picking up bandages, he felt the kid gently tug at the base of his GI. "What?"

"Nico."

Morro's brow furrowed and he looked down at the kid, who still looked guarded but far more relaxed than he had been in the alley. "Nico? Is that your name kid?"

Nodding, Morro huffed and hesitantly ruffled his hair. "Guess I didn't introduce myself, huh? Morro, kid."

And so began Morro's journey. Not as the Green Ninja. Not as the Forgotten Ninja or Vengeful Ghost. But his journey as a Sensei and a Parent for Nico was not the only child he rescued.

Maya, an 11 year old girl on the streets struggling not to become a prostitute.

Wren, an 8 year old living in an abandoned house on the forests edge.

Cassey, an 17 year old forced into prostitution to protect her younger brother, Liam, a 7 year old.

Lady, a 6 year old on the streets.

Casper, a 9 year old caught stealing from houses.

Sammy, a 15 year old who tried pickpocketing Morro and had successfully been pickpocketing others.

All eight kids lived in the Monastery alongside Morro, who they saw as their brother and Sensei since he was so insistent they learn to protect themselves.

Cassey and Sammy were incredibly helpful for a young man who had barely taken care of himself while out in the world, but he learned.

--------------------2 Years Later------------------------

Four kids snuck through the halls, using the stealth skills Morro had recuntly begun implementing in their training. Quietly, Casper pushed open the door, grinning when it didn't creak upon opening.

Slowly they crept towards the occupied bed, before climbing onto the foot of the bed pausing anytime the person stirred.

Unknown to the four, their target was wide awake and simply waiting for his moment to strike.

"Ready?" Wren asked, eager as ever.

"Ready."

"Ready."

Nico giggled to himself, and nodded.

"3 . . . 2 . .-"

Casper yelped as his legs were swiped out from underneath him and he landed on the bed with an oomph. Lady and Wren quickly followed, landing on top of the poor boy as Nico was swept into Morro's arms with a laugh of delight.

"And just what were you four doing?" Morro asked. To most he would sound furious and angry but that was simply his voice for them.

"Cassey sent us to wake you up," Lady pouted, sitting up. Morro raised am eyebrow at the three before glancing down to Nico, the weaklink of their little group.

"Nico?"

"You needed a wakeup call she said," Nico admitted, voice as quiet as ever. Morro sighed, rolling his eyes.

"Disrespectful. All of you."

All four giggled as he swung himself out of bed. "All right, beat it. Go eat. I'll be there in a minute."

"Okay!"

Lady, Wren, and Casper left but Nico simply sat on the bed, attached to Morro's hip as always. Ruffling hia hair as he passed by to get his closet, Morro reached for his Sensei robes. For know he wore only the under layers and pants leaving the top for when training actually began, after breakfast.

"Alright kid, let's go see what Cassey cooked up."

Nico giggled, reaching out for Morro who gave a put upon sigh. "I hope you know how spoiled you are," Morro stated fondly as Nico smiled wider. Since Nico had been in his life, Morro had let go of many of the angers he'd held to focus on bringing him up the way he wished he would've been.

And with Lloyd's own experiences still in his memory, he had a pretty good idea of what he shouldn't do.

Nico seemed to think he was doing pretty good based on his massive grin whenever he was with Morro. After being so painfully shy and terrified those first few months, Morro was relieved and proud of the smiles and infectious happiness the 6 year old radiated.

"What do you wanna watch today, kid?"

Nico thought for a moment, sticking the chew necklace he wore in his mouth. "Bluey," He mumbled.

"Alright, Bluey it is."

The Birth of Cregan Stark - 118 A.C.

Rhaenyra cursed Rickon for putting her through this again but the man simply held her hand and murmured reassurances. Laenor nor Daemon seemed able to handle the birthing room and neither Laena nor Rhaenys would make it in time. She screamed as another of pain hit her just in time for the castle to shake beneath the weight of a dragon.

Her eyes snapped open as Rickon cursed, reaching for the sword that was normally at his hip but had been forced to leave outside. The guards shouted at the door as the midwives panicked.

Rhaenyra's eyes drifted towards the window where a large yellow eye stared back, watching her. She screamed as another wave hit her and the oldest midwife rushed towards her to support her as she panicked.

It took another three hours for her next son to be born, with the dragon outside watching her the entire time.

When he was finally placed back in her arms, no longer bloodied, the dragon outside rumbled focus completely on the newly named Cregan Stark, Heir to Winterfell. It was then that Rhaenyra knew what she had to do.

Using her strength, she climbed out of the birthing bed, with Rickon supporting her while the Midwives fretted over her. He helped get her outside, with a retinue of knights and midwives at their back though they all froze when they found Vermithor perched on the castle, watching them wuth those yellow eyes.

Slowly, Rhaenyra approached him as he lowered his massive head to the walkway. His eye though was on the babe in her eyes as a low croon came from his throat.

Cregan gurgled, delighted as his tiny hands waved towards the huge, spiky dragon. Vermithor slowly leaned forward until the babe could slap a chubby hand against his nose, earning a squeal of genuine excitement from Cregan.

Her heart warmed even as her entire body ached from the pains of labors. Her son had claimed the Bronze Fury, dragon of King Jaehaeris himself.