𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐊𝐑𝐀𝐊𝐄𝐍'𝐒 𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐆

─── ❝AELYX TARGARYEN HAD NEVER NEEDED COMFORT. NOR HAD SHE KNOWN IT.

She was the heir to a cruel father and a wicked mother, terrible people who'd forsaken the lives of hundreds just to obtain what they most desired: power. And in their case, power resembled a seat made from a thousand swords and knives that had once belonged to the men Maegor the Cruel and Rhoswen Strong had slaughtered for it.

And born from that thirst for the Iron Throne, was a babe. Nursed by the blood of those executed and rocked by the sharpness of the swords of the throne, an heir to Maegor the Cruel had been born.

Aelyx, a presumed heir bearing the name of a babe that should have been male. She was a hollow wooden chest made to contain all her parents' hatred, their anger, their own failings, their ambitions, aspirations and burdens. She carried them with her like a crown of thorns, drawing blood from her fingers and threatening to tear her skin to shreds should it be removed. Another minuscule ember in the untamed wildfire that was the prophecy that sealed all the women born descendants to Naerys Targaryen together.