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THREE;
『 THE GREAT RETURN 』

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ㅤ     THE BREAKFAST FOODS ARE NOTHING LIKE THEY ARE IN SUNSPEAR. Cerilla notices how distinctly different the two kingdoms are in what they eat. At home, she eats a lot of meaty foods, like sheep and lamb, here it is a lot of soups and things of the sort. Though, she does not mind it. She knows new places offer new things and experiences, the foods being one of them.

The Queen has sent word to Cerilla's mother in Sunspear about the fact that she had washed up on the shores of Dragonstone. The princess knows her mother certainly will not be happy, not only because King's Landing has been taken over by a false ruler, but also because she would not have been able to win a hand. She would return home, yet again, with no husband to offer.

The last colors of day have been cast out by a black and blue sky. The day had been long and hard, fighting the exhaustion of her night at sea. She breathed a sigh of relief as she looked through the window of her chambers and noticed the sun to be going down. She would finally be able to sleep, though in this unfamiliar place.

A knock echoes across the chamber as the princess had just begin to unlace the strings of her dress. She is not used to wearing such things, such clothing that constricts her breathes and pinches her waist. She is used to flowing, silk gowns that allow the body to breathe.

"Enter." She calls across the room. The princess crosses her hands in front of her body as the door swings open, revealing the prince Jacaerys in the doorway. She greets him with a smile and he offers the same. Then, she notices the fabric that he carries in his hands.

"At lunch I noticed that the gown you are wearing is unpleasant," he strides across the room and lays the dark yellow dress on the bed. "After doing some investigating, I found this at the bottom of a chest. I thought it might be more suitable for you." His words come out clammy, like they usually do not. His voice, though he is still young, has grown to be that of a man's, strong and sure.

The princess approaches the dress and touches it with her fingers. A slow smile spreads across her face at the gesture. It is made of a silk, not the same kind as back home, but it is still breathy. The back is mostly open. A thoughtful gesture indeed. She turns her head to the prince as she lifts the new dress off of the bed.

"It is wonderful," she says softly. "Thank you, Prince Jacaerys." Her eyes blink slowly and fully, engulfing the prince even further in her beauty and elegance. He nods and makes his way out of the chamber, closing the door behind him.

Cerilla examines the dress further. The detailing is wonderful. The stitching is extraordinary. She places it in the wardrobe then changes out of the miserable dress she has been wearing all day into the thin white nightgown brought to her by one of the servants. It is a thick material, one that should be worn in the winter. She has never needed to wear something so hefty before.

       The princess crawls into the bed and lifts the covers over her body. In Dorne she sleeps only with a silk sheet over her body, even then sometimes it is too warm for her and she kicks it off. She sleeps always with the windows open, never shut. Here in Dragonstone it seems as though the windows have never been opened.

       She closes her eyes and thinks of home, and what her mother must be doing. Most likely she is rolling her eyes at something her brother had said, she decides. That brings a smile to her face.

-ˋˏ ༻☼༺ ˎˊ-

      THE MORNING COMES WITH COLD SHIVERS RUNNING DOWN HER SPINE. The princess pulls the blankets tighter around her body, but it seems to be no use. At the first light of dawn, she gets out of the bed and paces around the room with a candle in her hands until she warms up. As she is about the open the door to her chambers and step into the hallway, the door swings open. She jumps out of the way to avoid being hit.

An unfamiliar knight stands in the doorway. He tips his head to her and holds his helmet in his hands. The princess examines him before he even manages to speak.

"Forgive me, My Lady, for the intrusion," he is out of breath. "Word has been returned. The Queen requests you in her chambers at once." He explains. Cerilla follows him through the hallway, taking note of the route. She has walked to the queen's chambers once before, but the direction is still unfamiliar. Dragonstone is a rather winding castle.

The knight pushes open the door and greets the Queen, then introduced the princess into the room. The first thing Cerilla notices is that Jacaerys is not on the room, or anywhere around in the hall. She wishes he could be in the room too, not because she is afraid of the Queen, but because she misses his company and hadn't even realized so. Now, with the word having traveled back, she knows she will go back home and likely never see the prince again. She shudders at the thought.

He had saved her, carried her from the beach on dragon back, and stuck with her throughout her unconsciousness. He even remained in her chambers whilst she bathed, as she felt unsafe in this new environment. Not only that, but he has made himself clearly charismatic through the breakfast and lunch they have shared. She will miss his great company and his sensibility.

"Sit." The Queen says to Cerilla. Obediently, she takes a seat on the chair across from the Queen. She has a parchment rolled out on her desk, but Cerilla cannot make out the writing scribbled on it. It seems to be in some sort of strange language, which is odd considering Cerilla knows every language her mother speaks— and none of them look like that.

"What language is that?" The princess asks, curiously. She has always had a knack for being rather curious, or as some may call it, invasive. Cerilla has always seeked to know as much as she can. There is nothing more terrifying to a man than a woman who knows more than him. She may not be a dragon rider, or a great fighter, but she would surely be able to win in the battle of wits.

"High Valyrian," she answers. Cerilla's eyes shoot up to the Queen at her response. "This letter is not from your mother. It is from Aegon Targaryen." The silence that follows is long.

The Queen takes in a long breath before speaking again. "The letter I sent was received, but by Aegon Targaryen, because he has stormed Dorne and murdered your mother and brother, because they would not bend the knee. He now knows, because it was him who received the letter, that you are in Dragonstone, the heir of Sunspear." Her words come out clear, but Cerilla swears she didn't hear them correctly.

Her mother and brother, dead? Slaughtered? Murdered. She clenches her ribs and hunches over as it suddenly becomes impossible to breathe. Her heart stammers in her chest. Her breathless sobs fill the room. Her brother, her young brother, unaware of the hostilities and prejudices of the world, murdered. Her mother, a powerful and cunning woman, who sits prominently and proudly, slaughtered. All the the hands of Aegon Targaryen. That murderous bastard not only has killed her family, but Rhaenyra's son as well. And not only that, but he will seek out Cerilla next. He believes the murdering of her family will be enough to make her bow down to him and pledge her home.

The princess' jaw clenches as she images taking a knee in front of the crooked king. Her fingers curl around her body as she images swearing the oath of allegiance. Her mother and brother died because they would not bear the words. Would Cerilla have to do the same? If the people of Dorne are smart, which she knows they are, they will have bent the knee to their king. If Cerilla is smart, which she is, she will bend the knee. But, is it worth it? Is it worth it to have sacrificed two precious lives just to save the fate of one?

The Queen's hand comes down graciously on Cerilla's shoulder. "You are now the ruler of Sunspear. Whether you want to be or not. Trust me, when I say this... Send your armies and drive out Aegon's forces while you can. He thinks he can take as he pleases. Let him know that he cannot do that." Her words send a chill down Cerilla's spine. She knows she is right. She knows the King will stop at nothing to make a point clear. She would rather stop his soldiers where they are instead of drawing them to Dragstone, where she would put the lives of many more in danger.

"It is much to ask," she says wiping a tear off of her cheek. "But, if I may request a ship, the smallest you have, to get me there, that would be of great help." The princess' words slice the air as each sentences teeters on the brink of another sob. She inhales a shaky breath to keep herself from crying out yet again.

"My darling, you bow to your true Queen. I will give you a ship, of course, but I do believe you would prefer to travel by dragon back. It is much quicker." Cerilla's eyes snap suddenly to the figure emerging from the balcony. Jacaerys. She hadn't seen him. He had been shielded by the darkness of the morning. He steps into the room and tips his head.

"Although it pains me to send my last son out, he refuses to stay," the Queen's words emerge with great pain. "Dorne is an important asset and I will do my best to keep it safe. You are one of my few allies. You must keep allies close, no matter the cost." Her words are knowledge and wise, with years of experience backing them. Jacaerys crosses the room and offers his hand to Cerilla, helping her up.

"It will be easy. They will not expect dragon fire. We will arrive, set fire to the troops, then I will drop you off in Sunspear, to tend to your duties." He explains quickly. The princess looks between the Queen and her son.

"What about Aegon? Will he be there?" She fears that seeing the king would send her into a spiral- the murderer of her family. She would be enraged, of course, and likely unable to control her emotions.

"He is long gone by now, princess. He is most like already back to King's Landing cowering on the throne." His jaw clenches at the thought. The princess nods and releases a shallow sigh of relief. The Queen stands and hugs her son tightly. Then, she pulls the princess into a hug. Cerilla can tell by her eyes alone that she does not want to watch her son leave, but she has no choice.

Jacaerys and Cerilla depart from the room and down the corridor, where their footsteps echo across the stone walls and floors. Cerilla wonders how many Targaryen queens and kings and princes and princesses have touched and been housed in these walls. She wonders how many dragons have flown over this sea and how many battles have been fought here.

Remaining silent, Jacaerys leads Cerilla through the formal entry doors down to the great bridge, which expands in front of the two of them as far as the eye can see. The morning has still just barely emerged, but the princess can tell already that it will be a sunny day. After putting a good distance between the castle and themselves, Jacaerys calls upon his dragon, Vermax. He does not even have to speak. He just shuts his eyes as he faces the vast sea in front of them.

From behind, a set of green wings appear in the sky, just below the clouds. The creature dips down towards the earth with the most beautiful gracefulness the princess has ever seen. She is curious to know how a creature so large can also be so graceful and gentle. The dragon lands one foot on each wall, straddling the walking portion of the bridge. Jacaerys greets his winged beauty with a scratch to his muzzle. The dragon makes a series of indescribable sounds.

"Dragons can sense fear," he finally speaks. "So be calm as you approach." Jacaerys takes Cerilla's hand and pulls her toward the dragon. She is timid at first, but not afraid. Jacaerys guides her hand to the dragons nostrils, which take a deep inhale of her scent. She can feel the wind around his nose swirl as he breathes it in.

"He is huge." She remarks at the dragon. He must be the size of a ship. Jacaerys laughs beside her, full on laughs, breathlessly and dramatically.

"Vermax is small, but he is still growing," the prince grins. "Balerion was as large as seven great ships. His mouth alone could probably engulf half of Dragonstone." That comment sends a shiver down Cerilla's spine. She hopes Vermax does not sense the sudden surprise at this thought. He seems to be unfazed by it, or so she hopes.

She has heard the tales of the Black Dread, Balerion, the largest dragon to ever live, ridden by Aegon the Conquerer. Cerilla had read that Vhagar almost reaches Balerion in size. The great green dragon is not ridden by Aemond Targaryen. It is also the dragon who killed Lucerys and Arrax. Snapping her out of her trance, Jacaerys hand touches hers again, guiding her to stroke the dragon's muzzle. The scales feel strange under her skin. The dragon's eyes blink and slide at the attention, seemingly enjoying it. She exhales a deep breath.

"Sometimes I wish I was a Targaryen so that I may have a dragon." She says out of pure panic when the dragon moves its head slightly. She tries to remain calm, but Cerilla trying to remain calm usually consists of some random comment to try and flatten her nerves.

"I don't," Jacaerys says. Cerilla removes her hand and takes a step back, facing the prince. "Only because Targaryen incesteous relationships are typically frowned upon, even if most people tend not to say anything about it." He adds quickly. Cerilla raises an eyebrow at him.

"Why would that be a problem for me?" Jacaerys looks around for a moment, as if trying to think of an answer. Finally, when he seems to have one in mind, his eyes bounce back to Cerilla.

"Well," he clears his throat. "Perhaps one would win your favor and it would become impossible to resist them." His words come out steady. The distance between them seems to become even closer by the second, though no one has moved.

"Trust me, Prince Jacaerys," the princess says evenly. "I have resisted many charming noblemen. It is a gift I am most happy to have." She replies with a sly grin. The prince blinks a few times then leads Cerilla under Vermax's wing to his back. The Mount has been buckled on.

She attempts to lift a foot over, but she isn't quite tall enough. Though, for most women she is fairly tall, she is just barely too short. The prince grabs her boot and hurls her up into the air. She manages to catch her hands on the mount and steady herself in the middle-back area. Jacaerys hops up without even breaking a sweat. In one single, swift motion, he has mounted the dragon and taken the reins in his hands.

Her heart thumps in her chest. Not only because of the fact that she is about to take flight, on a dragon, but also because she knows where they are headed- to her home. But, her home will not be the same because it does not have the people in it that it once did. She will also have to watch as some of her lands burn, as the troops of King's Landing are burned to a crisp on her home terrain. The voice of Jacaerys brings her back to her senses.

"You may want to secure your hands around my waist," he says. "You know, so that you don't fly off." He adds without skipping a beat. Cerilla wraps her hands around his back, stretching across to his ribs. She locks her fingers together, securing herself the best that she can.

The green dragon jumps suddenly from the wall, flying straight down. The princess clings around the princes waist as she feels her stomach reach her throat. She closes her eyes and braces for impact, but it never comes. When she manages to peel her eyes open, she sees that they are flying over the water, quicker than a horse at a gallop. She watches with wide as they pass over the dark, murky water. She has to blink every few seconds because of the speed in which they are traveling at.

"Are you alright?" The prince asks loudly enough for her to hear without turning his head.

"Only slightly traumatized." She replies with a faint grin. She moved forward and rests her head on his shoulder.

From the corner of his eye, he can see the outline of her face. He turns his head, ever so slightly, and their eyes meet. He has never felt so weightless before, so enchanted. As much as he does not want to, he turns his head back straight and narrows his eyes, navigating the way.

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