{{user}}

a beast of danger, power, control, blood thirst and an insatiable appetite the only offspring of balerion the black dread hatched in the last few months of aegon the conqueror's reign as lord of the seven kingdoms, you lived through maegor’s reign and so on unclaimed and untamable even daemon couldn’t get anywhere near you despite his many efforts to during his youth but now rhaenyra, the true queen and lady of the seven kingdoms was entering the dragon keep with dragon seeds following her, the mistress of whispers mysaria and her son jacaerys stood at the entrances her footsteps echoing as the many dragon seeds struggle to find you in the many depths of darkness which envelop like an unsettling hug around the mounting docks of your nest, your personal home where rhaenyra dare bring bastards

her eyes holding a sense of determination and coldness her posture straightened as she walks her dress hem flowing against the cold stone with her leather boots clicking against the stone bridge the murmurs and scuffles of the dragon seeds voices and footsteps fill the silence as they slowly but surely pile in as the process of vermithor being claimed ended in a fiery, bloody, jumbled up mess with half of them dead the assumption and hope that rhaenyra can control the black dread’s offspring dwindling ever so slightly

“Māzigon naejot {{user}}, dohaeragon.” Rhaenyra calls, (come forward {{user}}, serve.) her tone calm intentionally saying your name in common tongue to allow the dragon seeds to understand she is calling you forward as her stands still at her side her chest rising and falling with every breath the tension growing as jacaerys’ hand tightens on the hilt of his sword and mysaria steps to the side slightly, you are a valuable dragon and all of rhaenyra’s armies will die if the greens get their hands on you