Chapter Text
At the age of 2 and 10, Saeranera Alysanne Targaryen really began to grow into a Valyrian beauty and a Targaryen warrior.
People would say that the princess looked like either Lady Rhea Royce or Prince Daemon Targaryen in her youth. But as she grew older, Saera began to grow more into her own face, one that many would claim as beautiful as Queen Alysanne herself.
Laena said she should grow her hair out, and that it would look very pretty in a braid. But Saera shook her head, stating that she liked her hair short. Laena had then cast a side-long look at her husband, who had kept his hair short.
He smirked and shrugged.
Saera was beautiful and would grow more beautiful as she grew older, but she wasn’t just going to be a pretty princess, she was going to be a great warrior like Visenya Targaryen.
She didn’t concede to most of the social norms of that of a lady, let alone a princess, she had her father's attitude and bad temper, which led to her calling many men ‘cunts’. She spent most of her time on her sword training and barely even attended her stitching and embroidery lessons.
It's those reasons some folk would call the princess feral.
Feral little thing.
The Feral Princess.
So un-proper.
At a young age, Daemon had begun teaching his daughter to not listen to what others said about them. He faced name-calling and ridicule at a young age and didn’t have anyone to truly protect him. He knew he couldn’t completely protect Saera from it, but he could teach her to not listen and protect her honor until she was able to.
The first time someone called her feral in front of Daemon, the prince punched the man in the jaw, dislocating it, before threatening his manhood should he say anything like it again.
It reminded Saera of when people called her bastard.
Daemon and Rhea hated each other and everyone in Westeros knew it. The two were dragged to the alter and bribed to say the vows. The both of them shared their bed, but it was no secret that they shared each other’s beds, Daemon more than Rhea.
Because of that, some questioned the girl’s legitimacy when she was first presented to the court at Daemon’s return. She was no doubt the Rogue Prince’s daughter, but at 4 namedays old she looked nothing like the late Lady Royce, so few brave souls assumed that she was a bastard birthed by one of Daemon’s whores.
Some speculated that maybe her mother was Mysaria of Lys.
One man, Saera couldn’t remember if he was a lord or a Ser, had called her legitimacy into question, calling her a bastard in front of a lot of people. Her father, uncle, and Lord Corlys included.
Daemon had relieved him of his head without a second thought as Corlys held her through her suppressed tears.
Ser Otto and Consort Alicent were really mad and wanted the Rogue Prince to face consequences, but King Viserys didn’t bother to listen and said the matter was over.
That was the last time she was called a bastard and her parentage was questioned.
After that, Daemon began to teach his daughter how to close her heart and ignore the slurs of others. They were in Pentos now, away from those vipers in Kings Landing, but they can’t avoid Westeros forever.
They didn’t focus on that though, they decided to focus on training and the twins.
Rhaena and Baela were 2 now, learning to walk and speak Valyrian. Saeranera loved her little sisters, she played with them and helped her father teach them High Valyrian. She really loved them but she had wanted a brother.
Daemon joked that they would try harder next time, to which Laena rolled her eyes and kicked his shin. Hard.
Their life in Pentos was mundane and peaceful, with the occasional surprise. When the twins were born, Vhagar had laid a clutch of eggs, about 6. Saera gave two to Rhaena and Baela, one hatched and the other turned to stone, the same happening to the others except two. They were still a bit warm, so Saera decided to take them.
A few months passed and they didn’t move, but they didn’t start turning to stone. The princess thought maybe it was just taking a bit longer for them to pass.
Until a year later, Saera woke up in the middle of the night to cracking and what sounded like disgruntled lizards.
She sat up and the eggs had hatched!
They were moving about, shaking off the remains of the eggs and huddling together for warmth. Saera quickly got out of bed, nearly tripping on the blanket, and approached the bassinet that held the two dragons.
One dragon was a beautiful blue color, with darker curved horns, round head, smooth scales, and gold eyes and lines down its neck. The other dragon was a light bronze and brass color, a bit more jagged and rough than the other dragon, dark spikes on its thin but muscular head and jawline.
When the two hatchlings saw Saera approach them and kneel by the bassinet, they immediately locked eyes with the princess. They stared for a few, long moments before what Saera has learned as cries of excitement before they leaped out of the bassinet and onto the princess. She fumbled with the two dragons, holding onto them so they wouldn’t fall. The hatchlings purred, rubbing their heads against the girl and curling on her chest.
The next morning, Daemon came into her room and saw her cuddling with two baby dragons in her lap as she read a book.
Their eyes met and she shrugged.
So now Saera had three dragons.
She named the blue one Soarmes and the bronze one Andar, after her great uncle. She was hesitant to introduce her dragons to Nagho since he was older than them and didn’t have experience with hatchlings, especially ones from a different clutch.
But he immediately warmed up to them and took them under his wing. Literally.
The two hatchlings crawled up to the bigger dragon and he lowered his wing over them so they were covered.
As with Nagho, Saera carried the hatchlings just about everywhere she went on her shoulders.
When the small family received a raven from Kings Landing, an invitation to King Viserys’ sons nameday. Daemon was more amendable to go since Otto wasn’t Hand anymore, but still made a whole show of how they didn’t need to show up.
The girls just rolled their eyes.
They flew to Kings Landing and left their dragons at the Dragonpit, but Saera brought Soarmes and Andar with her. They were met by the king, his consort, and their children, as well as Rhaenyra, her family, and their sworn shield, Ser Anrea Snow. Saera saw her and Daemon exchange smirks. Huh.
“Uncle, look!” Saera walked up to her uncle excitedly, Soarmes and Andar on her shoulders. “This is Soarmes and Andar, they’re from Vhagar’s clutch. They hatched a while ago and bonded to me.”
The king smiled joyfully, he and Rhaenyra congratulated the girl for this achievement. From her peripherals, Saera saw Aemond looking very angry, the Queen Consort was angry and spiteful, and Ser Otto, who the princess had just noticed, looked just about the same.
Uncle Viserys brought Saera, and by extension, her father, to the nursery to meet the child.
Prince Daeron Targaryen had been born barely a year before Luke and Naerys, he was small and quiet, his skin somewhat pale and his hair was a light strawberry blonde, with near-white roots. His eyes opened just a sliver, revealing Valyrian blue eyes.
He didn’t look very Valyrian, taking more after his mother, but he was more Valyrian than Aegon and Aemond.
People talked about the king’s youngest children, about how they looked almost nothing like King Viserys or at the very least a generic Targaryen, and how they looked like Hightowers. They weren’t insults, just observations.
Queen Consort Alicent’s face would pinch whenever she heard people make that observation.
During Saera’s stay, she witnessed the Consort try and take several people's tongues for calling them “The Hightower Prince’s/Princess”. Viserys didn’t let her though, since it wasn’t an insult.
During the party, Saera, dressed in a black, gold, and bronze dress that ended just at her feet, with a high neck and lace sleeves, met the ruling Prince of Dorne and his younger brother, Qoren and Dagos Martell
Saera heard that they were here to show good faith with King Viserys, though she noticed the disdainful looks the Prince shot her father.
Dagos Martell was Saeranera’s age, he had tanned skin with dark hair and brown eyes. He wore a silken coat the colors of gold, brown, yellow, and red, bedazzled with jewels. “Princess Saeranera,” He greeted awkwardly, bowing his head respectfully. “I am Prince Dagos Martell of Dorne, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”
With a smirk that mirrored Prince Daemon’s, Saera bowed her head as well. “It’s a pleasure to meet you as well, Prince Dagos.” She looked around and saw Prince Qoren talking with the King and Queen Consort, before looking back at the younger Prince. “What say we get out of this boring party, I’ll show you my dragons.”
The Prince’s eyes widened, he looked over at his brother nervously before meeting Saera’s eyes and slowly smiling.
She giggled and grabbed the boy's hand and dragged him out of the room and through the halls to the Dragonpit.
The princess strode into the dark, damp, and leather-smelling environment of the Dragonpit with the confidence of one who’s entered and left this place a hundred times. The Prince of Dorne followed behind, gripping the girl's hand and looking so cowardly his brother would kick his ass.
“Nagho,” She called for her dragon. Silence followed and Dagos thought that maybe the beast was asleep, before a growl reverberated through the air, and from the darkness of the undervault a large, white dragon with fiery eyes crawled out and towards its rider. “𝙼ā𝚣𝚒𝚐𝚘𝚗 𝚔𝚎𝚜ī𝚛, 𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚊 𝚐𝚎𝚟𝚒𝚎 𝚟𝚊𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚚𝚊𝚛.” Nagho nudged his head into Saera’s outstretched hands, purring as they ran over his scales and scratched.
Prince Dagos didn’t dare move. His heart pounded in his chest and sweat beaded on his forehead.
The dragon's eyes shifted over to the new person, and a low, threatening growl crawled its way up Nagho’s throat.
Saera looked to the Dorne Prince, who was frozen in fear, but had a glint of awe in his cognac-brown eyes. The Rogue Prince’s daughter grabbed Dagos’ wrist and slowly raised it and brought it to Nagho’s snout.
“Don’t worry,” She whispered to the boy, pressing closely against his body as she guided him to her dragon. “Nagho won’t hurt you. He’s really a big ole softy.”
Nagho huffed, annoyed, but remained calm and intently watched as the Prince’s hand got closer before it laid upon his snout. He closed his eyes and purred. The Dornish boy exhaled shakily, an awe-filled smile slowly splitting across his face. He and the princess slowly walked to both sides of Nagho’s neck, gently scratching and petting, causing the beast to lean into their touch like a cat, purring and all.
“Amazing, yes?” Saera asked the boy.
“Yes. yes, it is.” He replied breathlessly.
And so the two children, the Prince of Dorne and the Princess of House Targaryen became friends. A friendship unheard of in Westeros history, considering Dorne’s history with the Targaryens and their dragons.
Daemon told his daughter to be careful of the Dornish Prince because dragons tended to get killed in Dorne.
Saeranera knew that already, she remembered every event in Targaryen's history from her lessons. She didn’t think Prince Qoren would be stupid enough to try and kill her, but she would be careful.
Their stay in the Red Keep was pretty awkward, to say the least. Saera and her family stayed with Rhaenyra’s for the most part. Jace and Dany were growing fast, they were about 5 namedays old now. They were both very sweet, gentle children and very curious, and adventurous.
They were dutiful in their studies, but when they weren’t studying they spent a lot of time playing with Luke, in the Dragonpit with their dragons, with their mother or father, and training with Harwin or Saera.
During those training sessions in the yard, Saera noticed the looks Ser Cole kept shooting the Princes and Harwin. Looks of disgust, hatred, rage. He trained Aegon and Aemond with patience and spoke to them warmly, but whenever he talked to Harwin or his children, he was cold and rude. Once or twice, when training with her father, Saera overheard Ser Cole telling Aegon and Aemond to be ruthless in battle, to show no mercy, and strike down their enemies when they were defeated.
He looked over to Saera and Daemon as he said that.
The princess would say that she didn’t know what his problem is, but she knew full well what it was.
He was mad because, after one, measly kiss that didn’t mean anything, Rhaenyra refused to run away with him, so he now hates her and her children. It was all very childish, Saera suspected he was dropped on his head as a child.
During their stay in Kings Landing, Daemon decided it was long overdue for his daughter to meet his Gold Cloaks. He was no longer Commander of the City Watch, that honor going to his dearly trusted friend and comrade, Tylan Locke, but the Gold Cloaks would always be loyal to Daemon Targaryen.
“I supposed it was high time I introduced you sorry cunts to my daughter, Saeranera,” Daemon said in a joking tone of voice, holding her on his hip.
The knights laughed, greeting the princess with respect.
The Gold Cloaks were the best-trained knights in all of Westeros, next to knights from the North, they wore mail armor with black breastplates, pauldrons, and vambraces. Protective while being practical. On their shoulders were their titular golden cloaks.
For an evening, Saera watched as the Gold Cloaks flooded Flea Bottom, still infested with crime despite Rhaenyra’s best efforts. They arrested, castrated, and relieved the tongues of many men. They worked fluidly together, executing justice ruthlessly. The princess observed the knights and the criminals, taking in as much information as she could.
There was a bit of a commotion when they got back to the keep, but Saera ignored it and went to bed.
One day, Saera was in the training yard with Rhaenyra’s children. Harwin and her father were inside, talking to the Heir.
She was taking Jace and Dany through the motions, just the basics for their age when the Hightower Queen entered the courtyard with Ser Cole and one of her Kingsguard brothers on her heels.
She was wearing her usual green gown with some gold accents, and Saera found herself thinking how that shade of green clashed horribly against the entire Keep itself. And it made her so fucking angry that Uncle Viserys would allow that whore to wear green here, that he would even marry her.
“Where is Ser Harwin?” Alicent asked curtly.
“Prince Consort Harwin is with Princess Rhaenyra and my father… your grace,” It took nearly all her willpower not to spit out those last words. This whore did not deserve that title, she didn’t deserve anything she had. In Saera and Rhaenyra’s eyes, she stole that title from her mother, Aemma Arryn, by seducing the king barely moons after her pyre was lit. “In the meantime, I’m teaching the children some basic sword stances.”
The Consort hummed, eyeing the Crown Princess’ children with a disdainful and jealous look in her eyes.
Rhaenyra’s children are in line for the Iron Throne and Harrenhal. They’ll inherit everything. Alicent Hightower’s children? Nothing.
“The training yard is no place for young ladies. Does the princess not have handmaidens? What of her lessons?” Gods, her fake ‘sweet’ tone is making Saera sick. Jace and Dany stepped behind the elder princess, attempting to hide from the Queen Consorts’ gaze.
“They finished their lessons. Princess Rhaenyra and Prince Harwin permitted Dany to train with Jace.”
Saera could see Ser Cole glaring at the children from behind the Consort. What a cunt, she thought.
“Again, this is no place for young girls such as yourself and Princess Daenerys. You would be more suited to spending the afternoon with me and Princess Helaena.” She said not as a suggestion, but as a command. That's all she ever does aside from bitching, try and order everyone around.
Ser Cole took a step forward, Saera saw that and made sure to keep an eye on his from her peripherals.
“I’ve never been one for embroidery, tis’ not for me.” Saera kept her voice even and calm, a small smirk playing on her lips as she folded her hands behind her back. “Princess Daenerys doesn’t have those lessons today and besides, she said she wanted to train with her brother and her parents allowed her.”
Alicent Hightower thought that since she married the king, she had as much power and authority as him. But she was the Queen Consort, it was just a title. She wasn’t the blood of the dragon, she was the daughter of a second son. House Targaryen ranks by blood, not by title. Rhaenyra has more authority than Alicent, in fact, Saera has more power than her as well. Because they are Targaryen’s, the blood of the dragon.
Rhaenyra is Viserys’ firstborn and Heir, and Saera is the King’s dear niece and Prince Daemon’s daughter.
“We will be going back to stances now, your grace.” Saera turned her back to the green whore and started to lead the children back to training.
“Ser Criston,” The Queen Consort turned to her sworn shield. “Take Princess Saeranera and Princess Daenerys to my solar.”
The loyal dog stepped toward the children. “We are not going anywhere with you,” Saeranera said firmly, facing the knight. She was by no means tall, not yet at least, but she knew how to incapacitate a man even in armor.
“I do not want to go with you,” Dany said defiantly, looking every bit Rhaenyra’s daughter.
“I am the Queen, and I am commanding you both to come with me,” The Consort demanded, her tone hardening and a bit angry, and Ser Cole took another step towards the children.
“You are the Queen Consort and we do not have to do what you say,” Saera responded calmly but firmly.
Her sworn shield snarled and grabbed Saera’s arm, roughly pulling it and no doubt leaving bruises. In the blink of an eye, the Rogue Prince’s daughter produced a knife and stabbed the man in the thigh. He yelled and released the girl, falling to his knee. She then reared her hand back and punched him in the eye, he fell back and held his already bruising eye.
At that moment, Ser Anrea and Ser Harrold came into the courtyard.
Queen Consort Alicent argued that Saera be punished for defying her orders and assaulting her sworn shield. But Daemon argued back that Saera, and Dany, didn’t have to do what she commanded, since Rhaenyra and Harwin allowed their daughter to train with Jace, and Saera was only defending herself.
The king said that the leg wound and badly bruised eye were punishment enough for Ser Cole, and told Alicent that she couldn’t force Daemon and Rhaenyra’s children to her solar or do something they didn’t want to do, and that was it.
The Rogue Prince had wanted to relieve the knight of his head for bruising his daughter, but Laena and Saera calmed him down. “He is not worth the potential of getting banished, Father,” Saera told him.