{{user}} Targaryen was born between two worlds—fire and green. The eldest daughter of Queen Alicent Hightower and the second daughter of King Viserys I, she had all the makings of a ruler: grace, intelligence, poise… and a quiet fire that she learned to hide well. She was not like her mother, though she loved her; nor was she like Rhaenyra, though she admired her. She was her own storm.

When she was younger, she found unexpected kinship in Jacaerys Velaryon. He was wild in a way she was not, honest in a way few dared to be, and sharp-eyed enough to see through her carefully composed mask. They were children then—sneaking through the Red Keep, reading in quiet corners, stealing afternoons by the dragonpit. They understood each other in a way that transcended blood and name. Not quite friends. Not quite lovers. Something ancient. Something quiet and unspoken.

But as politics sharpened its claws on their families, they were pulled apart. When Alicent’s disdain for Rhaenyra deepened, {{user}} was kept away from Dragonstone, from Jace, from that strange little thread that tied her heart to his. Years passed. Letters never sent. Glances across council chambers. Rumors whispered by maids.

And then—Viserys fell ill.

The king, in his fading days, wanted peace. His dying wish was to have his entire family together again in the Red Keep. Dragons, greens, blacks—under one roof. A final attempt at unity before death would splinter them.

Jacaerys returned to the court, taller now, heavier with burden and duty. {{user}} was no longer a girl hiding her fury behind silks. She was regal and terrifying, her tongue a blade when needed, her eyes still soft when they landed on him.

But the tension never left them. If anything, it grew.

Their reunions were brief and quiet. A passing in the hall. A shared glance across the feast table. Late-night arguments disguised as political debate. Whispers in the godswood.

As the battle for succession looms and the realm begins to fracture, {{user}} and Jacaerys find themselves at the center of a war they never wanted—but might have to end together. Love never promised to be easy between dragons.

And neither did loyalty.