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Saeranera was born on a harsh stormy night, lighting flashing with thunderous booms reverberating through the air.
The labor had lasted hours.
Finally, when the babe came and the storm had cleared, morning light began shining through the window as the maester gave the babe to Lady Rhea Royce. She held the small babe against her chest as the maesters cleaned the afterbirth.
By the time the maesters were gone and her heart was calm, the doors opened, and in walked her damn husband, Daemon Targaryan.
He stopped when he caught sight of the babe and breathed shakily before making his way to his wife’s side.
For the longest time, husband and wife stared at their daughter who began to calm down. Daemon turned his head and pressed a soft kiss to Rhea’s sweat-matted hair. She hummed and kept staring at the babe. A little girl.
“Saeranera,” Rhea muttered, smiling down at the babe, at Searanera. Daemon smiled as well and nodded.
Saeranera, or Saera (pronounced SARA), grew up a happy, loved child.
Despite the animosity between Rhea and Daemon, they learned to put it aside so they could raise Saera and give her the love and attention she deserved.
Saera was a beautiful young girl. She had silver-white hair that was cut just at her chin like her mother’s, her skin was white like snow with striking freckles on her cheeks and along her nose, and her eyes were the same violet color as her father’s.
She was a kind girl, always nice to the maesters and servants, but everyone can agree that she got her father’s witty tongue and sharp mind. Despite her young age, Saera began to excel at her studies.
Daemon taught her High Valryian himself, and the two would spend hours together, practicing the sacred language of their ancestors.
Saera was closer to her father, but she loved her mother just as much.
Rhea would always teach her Runes and read her stories of old before tucking her into bed.
She knew that Rhea and Daemon didn’t exactly love each other, in fact, she was told that before she was born, they hardly tolerated each other. But, Saera could see that they still held a small love and respect for each other.
Saera loved her mother and father, and she loved the little moments and the big moments she had with them.
Unfortunately, the happiness didn’t last long, as when Saera turned 3, her mother became deathly ill and no matter what the maesters did, it wasn’t enough. Saera didn’t really understand what was happening, but she was smart enough to know that her mother was dying and the maesters couldn’t save her. The disease was fatal, they said.
She spent most of her time in her room when Rhea fell ill, reading her books and distancing from the outside world.
Sometimes she would wander around out of her room and overhear the maesters talking about her mother’s rapidly declining health before retreating to her room.
The girl didn’t talk to anyone, barely slept or ate, and never left her room. She didn’t want to hear about how her mother was going to die soon.
Saera tried to be strong, she was a Dragon. She should be stronger, but Saera could never stop the flow of tears that escaped her violet eyes as she hid under the covers, as she hid from this nightmare.
A month later, Daemon came into his daughter's room. Books littered the floor and her plate of stale, uneaten food sat on the desk.
The Rogue Prince sighed sadly and walked over to the bed, he gently sat down on the side and stared at the shaking bundle.
“Saera…” he whispered, laying a hand on the bundle.
The princess didn’t move for a few moments before she emerged from the safety of her blankets. Her hair was a mess, her eyes were red, and her cheeks were blotchy.
“Father…” The poor girl mutters before shuffling over to bury herself in her father's embrace. The two hold onto each other tightly, unwilling to let go. Daemon gently lifted his daughter into his arms and exited the room, walking down the halls to Rhea’s room. To say their goodbyes…
The Lady of Runestone was deathly pale and short of breath.
The maesters had told Daemon that her organs were failing and that she didn’t have much time left.
Rhea looked up as her husband and daughter entered the room. Daemon set Saera on the floor and gently ushered her to her mother. “Oh, Saera…” Rhea held her hand out to her girl. She quickly hurried to her mother's side and held her cold hand.
“Mama, your hands are cold,” Saera whispered, holding her mother’s hand on both of her tiny ones to try and warm them up.
“My girl, do you know why you're here?” Rhea asked softly, for she didn’t have the strength to raise her voice.
“To say goodbye…” Saera always was a smart girl, but this broke Rhea’s heart. “I don’t want to though…”
“I know…” She drew her daughter into her arms and held on tightly, breathing in the girl’s scent one last time. Her hair was so soft and she was so warm. Tears fell from Rhea’s eyes as she pushed Saera away and held her face in her hands. “I know, my dear. I don’t want to say goodbye either. But… we must. I want you to listen to me, okay?”
The princess nodded, sniffing as she looked into her mother's warm brown eyes.
“You are… so brave, and smart, and so beautiful. I love you so much, you're going to be incredible. My little Dragon.” Rhea hugged her daughter again and buried her nose in her starlight hair. “Be brave, strong, and never let anyone put you down.”
“Okay…” Saera whispered, squeezing her eyes shut as tears fell from her eyes.
Daemon went over and sat in the chair, his eyes glossy as he scooted closer and laid a hand on his daughter's back. Daemon and Rhea’s eyes met, and the Lady of Runestone held out her shaking hand for Daemon to take.
The minutes passed, and with no warning, Rhea went limp and her heart stopped.
After Lady Rhea Royce’s funeral, Daemon packed the little of their belongings and they flew away from Runestone on Caraxes.
Saera didn’t pay much attention to where they were flying, she was so exhausted she just lay against her father and fell asleep. By the time she woke up, they had arrived at Driftmark, ruled by House Velaryon.
Daemon landed Caraxes in the Dragonpit where some of the castle Dragonkeepers were waiting.
The Rogue Prince dismounted the dragon before helping his daughter down. The Dragonkeepers handled Caraxes and led him into the pit. Daemon carried his still-tired daughter into the Velaryon keep where Lord Corlys was awaiting their arrival. “Prince Daemon.” Lord Corlys greeted with a curt nod. “Welcome to Driftmark.”
“Lord Corlys.” Daemon greeted back, although a bit quieter as Saera was starting to doze on his shoulder. “I thank you for housing me and my daughter for the time being.”
“Of course. Follow me, I will show you to your rooms.”
Saera barely kept her eyes open as Lord Corlys led them to their quarters. The Driftmark keep was different from Runestone, much different. The stone of the walls and floor were smooth, and their banners were a seafoam green. On them was a silver seahorse.
The Lord of House Velaryon led them to where Saera would be sleeping, a room prepared just for her. Corlys stood by the door to wait for Daemon to put his daughter to sleep.
“Here.” The prince sat his daughter on the bed and took out her sleep gown to dress in. once dressed, Daemon pulled back the covers and allowed Saera to scootch down.
“Father? Why are we staying in Driftmark?” The princess asked, her voice small and quiet.
“Lord Corlys and Princess Rhaenys asked for my help in a conflict.”
“Conflict? Against who?”
Daemon’s lips quirked up. His daughter always loved stories and tales of battles, whether they be real or fictional, she always wanted to hear them. Her favorites were the tales of Visenya Targaryen and her mount Vhagar. “I wanna be like her,” Saera said one day.
“What, a queen?” Rhea asked with a smile.
“No, a warrior.”
That memory sent a wave of pain surging through Daemon’s chest. He swallowed but kept his small smirk on his face. “In Stepstones, this warlord called Crabeater leading the Triarchy has been feeding merchants and sailors to crabs, some of them flying the Velaryon banner. They asked for my help in their struggle. I leave in three days.”
“Will it be dangerous?”
“Nothing I won’t be able to handle.” Daemon leaned down and kissed his daughter's forehead. “Goodnight, 𝖎𝖘𝖘𝖆 𝖇𝖞𝖐𝖆 𝖟𝖆𝖑𝖉𝖗ī𝖟𝖊𝖘.”
“Goodnight, 𝕶𝖊𝖕𝖆.” Saera’s eyes closed as she drifted to a dreamless sleep.
For the next three days, Saera would wander the halls of Castle Driftmark with Princess Rhaenys while her father talked with Lord Corlys. The Queen Who Never Was was very kind to Saera, she would tell her stories of the Vaelaryons and she introduced the girl to her dragon, Meleys. Saera met Laena and Laenor, Corlys and Rhaenys’ children.
They were also very nice and introduced the girl to their dragons, Seasmoke and Vhagar. Saera didn’t see Laenor much, however, as he was helping his father in the conflict in Stepstones.
When the day came for Daemon to leave for Stepstones with Lord Corlys and Laenor, the Rogue Prince sat with his daughter on her bed and read her a book from the library, which was much larger than the one at Runestone.
After tucking her in, Daemon got up to leave before Saera called out to him, “Father?” The prince turned around and sat back down beside his daughter. “You will come back, right?”
“Of course, I will.” Daemon had no intention of dying on the battlefield. With his dragon, Caraxes, and his own fighting prowess, the Triarchy should pose no problem for the Rogue Prince. “I swear to you, I will come back to you.”
Saera looked up at her father, tears burning in her eyes before she got up and flung her arms around her father's neck. They held each other for a long time, neither willing nor wanting to let go. Finally, Daemon tucked his daughter back in and left her room.
The princess didn’t fall asleep until hours later.
Weeks passed and her father had yet to return. There was no update on the conflict in Stepstones, and if there were, it was not shared with Saera.
Laena and Rhaenys tried to keep the young princess distracted, to keep her from worrying too much about her father. They would take her on rides on Meleys and Vhagar and take her to the library to read books or take her on walks along the shoreline.
It worked, for the most part. But Saera still worried about her father.
One thing that worked slightly better than the other distractions was Saera's training with one of the Velaryon knights. She had been watching the knights spar in the training yard when one of them approached the princess, they spoke of her father and why Saera was spending her time watching the knights.
Saera explained how she wanted to be like Visenya Targaryen, and how she wanted to be a fierce warrior.
So the knight, a boy of seven and ten with black hair and green eyes called Ryden Barrin, offered for her to train with him.
She accepted.
For the next couple of months, Saera trained with Ryden under the guise of his mentor, Ser Dovan Barner. He was an older man who served the Velaryons for years, Ser Dovan was a good man and a good knight. He was kind and a fair man, he taught Saera everything he was teaching Ryden, with some exceptions as the girl was only 3, turning 4 soon.
The princess would sometimes hear people talk about her, and how she was unladylike, among other things. But they never said it to her face, probably because they knew who her father was.
Nearly 6 months later, Saera woke up to the sound of a dragon’s roar. But not just any dragons roar, Caraxes roar.
The young princess jumped out of bed, hurriedly throwing on a robe before running out of her room and down the halls to the Dragonpit.
Prince Daemon was bone tired and ready to drop. His clothing was dirty along with his hair, but upon his head was a crown. For a moment after dismounting, Daemon rested his forehead against Caraxes scaled and breathed, dragon and Targaryen speaking through their bond. Caraxes purred, closing his eyes as his rider caressed his scales.
“Father!”
Daemon turned around and his knees felt weaker when he saw his daughter, his little dragon running towards him.
She was a few inches taller, but her hair and eyes were just the same.
Daemon fell down to his knees and caught his daughter in his arms, and he finally felt at peace. The prince buried his nose in his daughter's hair and breathed in her scent of bath soaps and sweat and her. Saera buried her face in her father’s neck and squeezed her eyes shut, breathing in his scent of ash and dragon and leather and him.
Caraxes pressed his snout against their sides, purring in his attempt to join their reunion.
“𝕴 𝖒𝖎𝖘𝖘𝖊𝖉 𝖞𝖔𝖚,” Saera murmured in Valyrian, and fuck Daemon missed her voice. So smooth and high and perfect.
“𝕴 𝖒𝖎𝖘𝖘𝖊𝖉 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖙𝖔𝖔, 𝖒𝖞 𝖑𝖎𝖙𝖙𝖑𝖊 𝖉𝖗𝖆𝖌𝖔𝖓.” Daemon blinked away the tears in his eyes and held her tighter, closer.
Later, after Daemon bathed and had his hair chopped short, he told the tale of how he fought against the Crabeater and the Triarchy, and how he was crowned King of the Narrow Sea. Lord Corlys and his son, Laenor, were sailing back to Driftmark as they spoke.
“So you're a king now? Does that make me Princess of the Narrow Sea?” Saera asked, sitting on Daemon’s lap as she played with the collar of his shirt.
Daemon chuckled. “Technically,” He himself fiddled with a piece of Saera’s hair. “I’ve been told that you’ve been training with a sword.”
“Mhmm.”
“With Ser Dovan and that boy Ryden.”
“Mhmm. Ser Dovan is nice, and so is Ryden.” Saera looked up into her father's eyes. “Will you teach me as well, father?”
The Rogue Prince had anticipated this question, the girl was his daughter. She had a fire in her that Daemon has seen himself in the knights he’s trained, the men he fought alongside, in himself. A fierce fire that only a dragon, a true Targaryen could have within them.
He smiled. “Of course. But, we have something to do first.”
Saera once again found herself riding with her father on Caraxes across the sea, heading to King’s Landing. “Do you think we should have sent a raven?” Saera asked.
“No, my brother always likes my surprises.” Daemon chuckled and continued steering his dragon. Saera didn’t really believe that, for whatever reason, he was exiled and given a title such as “Rogue Prince” which was probably not very good.
When they arrived and stood before the door to the throne room, Saera was nervous. More for her father than herself. He was the exile, or former exile if he and the King managed to make up.
Daemon Targaryen wore clothing of red and black, with his driftwood crown atop his head. Saeranera Targaryen wore a straight dress of black, red, and gold trimmings that went down to her ankles. Her hair was tidy and tied back in a half ponytail. Daemon set his daughter on his hip and gave her a reassuring smile. Saera smiled back and her father opened the doors.
The court immediately silenced upon the return of the Rogue Prince.
The prince walked forward, going toward the Iron Throne where Saera’s uncle, King Viserys, had stood when his brother entered his court after many years.
The White Cloaks immediately drew their swords and pointed them at Daemon. Saera glanced at the knights nervously, worried they might attack her father, but Daemon just looked annoyed and angry. “Should any of you harm my daughter, I will feed you to Caraxes.”
“Put your blades away. My brother would not harm me, not with a child in his arms.” Viserys ordered the White Cloaks. They did as their king commanded and cleared a path for him and Daemon. “You came back a king, and with a princess in your arms.”
“He’s actually not much of one, your Grace.” Saera blurted out, and Daemon keeps forgetting that she was three. He rolls his eyes as the court chuckles and Viserys smiles.
"There is only one true king, your Grace," Daemon said, carefully lowering his daughter to the ground. He takes off his driftwood crown and gives it to Saera, before kneeling.
"And where is Lord Corlys?" asked the King.
“Sailed home to Driftmark,” replied Daemon. “Stepstones are now guarded by the waves, by the crabs… and by the bodies of two thousand corsairs. A warning to anyone who dares to try to set foot on the lands guarded by the crown.”
“Lord Corlys and Princess Rhaenys send their regards, your Grace.” Saeranera held the crown in both hands and bowed slightly at the waist.
The girl heard footsteps approaching and saw the King stop in front of her. Their eyes meet, and Viserys stares at his niece for a few moments, he smiles again and holds out his hand, but not for the crown. Saera smiles back and takes the King's hand. Daemon stood before his brother, who put a hand on his shoulder and smiled at him. Daemon smiled back.
The court clapped at the display and Saera smiled wider.