Capítulo 2: ~ Union of Targaryen and Stark & Birth of the Vampyre ~ Part One ~
~ Planetos, Essos, Volantis ~
~ Daenora Targaryens - POV ~
"Mēre tolī rōva indigon daenora, se riñnykeā iksos māzis, ziry iksos māzis, se vampyre." ( One more big push Daenora, the child is coming, he is coming, the vampyre.)" I'm told in High Valyrian by Kinvara, a tan skinned beauty with a sinfully curvaceous body wrapped in red robes with seductive emerald eyes, a long time friend, and more importantly the new rising star of the priestesses of Rh'llor, the Lord of Light. She says to me, as if I've not been in this Fourteen forsaken bed for the last six hours, doing just that while screaming to bring mine and Barths child into this world, while always calling my child that word, Vampyre. It's a Valyrian sounding word, but I still don't know what it means.
Something I made sure to voice in my response to my supposed friend, current midwife, priestess, and the bitch responsible for me being in this bed in the first place, about my struggle and anger at her two hundredth uttering of those same exact words."Vestragon bony tolī jēda aspo, se skori nyke gaomagon kesīr, nyke jāhor drag ao naejot saeraxes naejot sagon zȳhon hembar meal syt getting issa kesīr, fuck... Ahhhhhhh! ( Say that one more time bitch, and when I'm done here, I will drag you to Saeraxes to be her next meal for getting me here, fuck... Ahhhhhhh!)" As if agreeing to my words Saeraxes, my bond, roars from outside of the temple as she feels my anger and pain. Which brings me some courage and I take a deep breath and push my child out of me with one final big push.
As my child is born into the world it's as if everything in the world went silent, as if the world itself held its breath for a moment, and broken the next by a deep breath of both a releases from the struggles of birthing and a anxious gasp for me, when I realized my child did not start wailing and screaming his lungs out, as babes are known to do. I was only able to relax back into the bed and felt the tension release from me when Kinvara came over to handed me my child while soothing me with her words while using my nickname, and then turned to another one of the priestesses in the room and said to the her. "Gaomagon nor zūgagon dae, ziry iksos sepār nykeā lyka se drējī nykeā gevie valonqar. Se ziry iksos also kostōba, sīr kostōba. Sȳrī gaomagon dae. Jikagon syt se prince hen sōnia se ivestragī zirȳla gīmigon zȳhon riñnykeā se ābrazȳrys issi sȳz se naejot māzigon isse." ( Do nor fear Dae, he is just a quiet and truly a beautiful boy. And he is also strong, so strong. Well done Dae. Send in the Prince of the North and let him know his child and wife are fine and to come in.)
I looked down at my son's face as she sends for his father, and she wasn't lying, he is beautiful and that's not my bias as his new mother talking, my little dragon well break many heart's in the future, I'm sure of that. I softly ran my fingers up his cheek to his tufts of his unique hair of dark black that fades in to a silverish white, as if honoring both bloodlines. My son, a child of a dragonrider of House Targaryen, one of the forty dragonriding familys who rule Valyria, an Empire that has ruled most of Essos for four thousand years and the newest prince of the North is son of a Stark prince of Winterfell, blood of the Kings of the North. Who have fought, conquered and ruled the harsh northernmost kingdom of the continent of Westeros, west of Essos, for eight thousand years since what is now called the Age of Heroes.
At the moment my son opened his eyes, I gasped as my breath was taken away by just how beautiful and unique they are. I was truely mesmerized as I stared into my boys pale amethyst eyes with flakes of gray spots around the pupils, eyes that glow as if radiating power and intelligence as he stared back before smiling and reaching out for a few strands of my silver gold hair that was hanging in my face as I stared down at my beautiful boys eyes. Making me smile and at that moment come to a decision, or more like the idea for his name just suddenly came into my head. As if just waiting for me to say it aloud, for the the world to hear his name and embrace him. For I am beyond sure my little dragon shall shape this world to his liking, or burn it to ashes if the world doesn't bow before him. Then again, what new mother doesn't want to give her son the world. For his name to be forever known, loved and even feared. But I have a feeling I should wait for his father to say his name out loud, to proclaim him to the world.
As I stared at my sons toothless smiling face as he made cooing noise while I playing with his little hands and little feet as we waited for Barth. I couldn't help but remember how this all came to be. How I got here within the span of just a year and a half, married to a Westerosi and prince and having a child with him in the temple of Rh'llor, who neither of us believed in a year ago. Now we are surrounded by their preists and priestesses, all for our child.
I was born a little more than twenty name days ago into House Targaryen as the youngest of three siblings, with an older brother and younger sister, to a noble house of the Valyrian Freehold. One of fourty bloodlines who formed magical bonds with dragons and went from being simple shepards to dragonriders who conquered, inslaved, and ruled much of the land of southern Essos. The Freeholds capital is located on a peninsula and the capital, Valyria and its cities are surrounded by 14 active volcanos and is ruled by a council made up of, the patriarch's and matriarchal heads of those fourty dragonriding families. While it is called a Freehold and has no monarch, the Valyrians conquered enough land and enslaved enough natives to build up colonies on enough land to be called an Empire.
House Targaryen was neither the weakest nor was it anywhere near the top of the hierarchy of the dragonlord houses of the Valyrian Freehold, with only five adult dragons that are bonded to my family members, and I was lucky enough to bond with Saeraxes, a she dragon who hatched in my grandmother's crib and was bonded to her before my grandmother died to injuries she received in a attack by some bandits as our family was returning from Volantis. The same trip that began my friendship with, at the time, a new preistess of Rh'llor, Kinvara. Who was being personally being taught by the High Preist and the First Servant of the Lord of Light, High Preist Benerro the Flame of Truth and his right hand man the Vice High Preist Moqorro.
Although by then my grandmother was to old to even climb Saeraxes, let alone ride her anywhere. And after she died from injuries from a arrow from the first surprise attack by the bandits, who were slayen soon after, thanks to our house's loyal warriors. My siblings, Aenar and Rhaela, and my parents, Daevarys and Jaenara, incouraged me to bond with Saeraxes who was, like my family and I, grieving her riders death. As I was very close with my grandmother, I had ridden on Saeraxes many times, but my first ride on the she-dragon after our bond was formed was completely different. I could feel her power radiating off her with each flap of her mighty wings, and we would fly any chance we got, freeing her and me from the grief of my grandmothers and the she-dragons former bonds death.
Unlike in those Andalos cunts, who ran to Westeros, and their culture, Valyrian women weren't frowned upon for being interested in martial affairs and training with anything larger than a sewing needle. Not that there is anything wrong with sewing and other such ladylike pursuits, my sweet sister Rhaela is the inbodiment of a lady, but can as easily slit your throat as she can sew it up, not that she would. Nor would she have to with our older brother Aenars overprotectiveness of us, Rhaela in specific. I was always more of the warrior than I was a lady of a noble house. So I trained in the sword, making me feel free and powerful.
That's if we don't even include our dragons into the equation. And it makes even more thankful for Saeraxes, she is a deterent to anyone who wishes harm to me or my family. With her I was truly free, which is why I've always loved flying with her and visiting anywhere her wings could carry us. We visited many of the cities of Essos from Norvos to Pentos, we even flew to Sothoryos but turned back after reaching the coast. Something Aenar would not stop teasing me about, and if he ever wants to father children with Rhaela, he shouldn't, I told him once I grew tired of the jape and the comparison to a certain other female dragonrider, who went further into the jungles of Sothoryos.
It was one of those trips that had me return to Volantis, where I met Kinvara again, who I hadn't seen since our last stay in Volantis before my grandmother died. I have always been curious person so I decided to ask her about her religion. Us Valyrian had our Fourteen Flames, the Old Gods of Valyria, on of the many other religions out there in Essos and beyond. Valyria does not have any restrictions on what the people want to believe in, as most of the people of Valyria are made up of slaves and the rest are the dragonlords themselves and their families worship in the Fourteen Flames or what ever they want to, as dragonrider's should.
As I was asking about her religion, she asked to show me instead of giving a lecture to me. So she took me to...
~
REFLEXIONES DE LOS CREADORES 
BlackViodEmperor
BlackViodEmperor ~
A/N ~ Cliffhanger boom! But do not fear my people, the Void Emperor shall not make you wait so long for Part dues. I think. But until then, ~ Void out.
~
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