Game of thrones: A storm is coming

While Daeron was planning to liberate Meeren, in a land further east, there was a big event happening.

Yi Ti, the crown jewel of Essos was going through a great turmoil after a long time of prosperity.

The jade emperor of Laoshen dynasty, Xun Laoshen just passed away without choosing a successor. He had 4 sons and 3 daughters. The empire would soon be engulfed in a civil war that would last for years. The royals would be busy killing each other while the people starved.

Meanwhile, the 3rd princess escaped the empire and journeyed towards the west with a few loyal followers and gold, along with a beautiful Silver and Blue dragon egg.Her journey was filled with dangers as she had to not only navigate through the desert and find a safe place, there were soldiers sent by her brother chasing her .

After they reached near the Vaes Dothrak , their luck finally ran out, as they were spotted by the dothrakis nearby.

The Dothraki Sea, vast and unending, shimmered under the midday sun, a golden expanse dotted with danger and dust.

Princess Daena Laoshen nee Baelaerys, the last scion of a once-proud Valyrian lineage, stood amidst the remnants of her loyal entourage, her blade dripping with Dothraki blood. Around her, the grass whispered ominously in the wind, as if gossiping about her imminent doom.

"This is it," Daena muttered under her breath, tightening her grip on her sword. "Death by horselord. Fitting, I suppose, for the last Baelaerys."

"Fitting?" Zhao Yun, her ever-loyal spearman and Yi Ti's most celebrated warrior, raised a skeptical brow as he adjusted his tattered armor.

"I don't think death-by-horse-themed-barbarians was on your ancestors' to-do list. Also, have you considered not dying? It's rather inconvenient for the rest of us."

Daena rolled her eyes. "If you've got a brilliant plan, uncle, now's the time."

Zhao twirled his spear with a flourish, a roguish grin spreading across his face. "I do have a plan: take as many of them with me as possible. Terribly original, I know."

As the Dothraki horde thundered closer, Daena's mind wandered—not to her impending doom but to the utter chaos she'd left behind in Yi Ti.

The Jade Empire, the glittering jewel of Essos, was crumbling faster than a poorly baked cake.

It all started with her father, the late Jade Emperor Xun Laoshen, who, in a stroke of either genius or madness, had decided to die without naming a successor. Seven children, countless rivalries, and no clear heir, what could possibly go wrong?

Yi Ti's current situation

First Prince: The obvious choice on paper. Unfortunately, said paper probably included the words "mentally challenged" and "dominated by his wife."

His better half, however, was a shrewd and ruthless woman, commanding an army of 60,000 through her powerful family and her father, a general . While he spent his days chasing butterflies or whatever caught his fancy, she was busy scheming to place a crown on his clueless head.

Second Prince: The ideal ruler, if Yi Ti were a kingdom of librarians. Peaceful, diplomatic, and with an allergy to conflict, he had the support of Duke Xian and an army of 30,000.

He also had a fatal flaw: a pathological inability to realize that diplomacy doesn't work when your opponents are actively trying to murder you.

Third Prince: Ah, the quintessential villain. Greedy, power-hungry, and disturbingly obsessed with marrying his own sister, Daena.

He controlled the imperial court through bribes and intrigue, wielding influence like a butcher with a cleaver. His personal army of 50,000 elite knights was the cherry on top of his tyrannical behaviour .

Fourth Prince: A mystery wrapped in an enigma, dipped in isolationism. The self-proclaimed ruler of Shu, he had fortified his lands and closed them off to the chaos outside.

Everyone else was too busy fighting to bother him, and frankly, he seemed perfectly fine with that.

First and Second Princesses: Married off to noble families, their husbands now saw the civil war as a chance to stake their claims. Because who wouldn't want to play the game of thrones in a country tearing itself apart?

Then there was Daena, the third princess, the darling of the people. She was adored for her beauty, her kindness, and her skills with both sword and the harp. She would sometimes play her harp in the nobles gathering , and just give away the earnings to common people , earning her a reputation as the " Flawless Jade Princess" of YI TI.

She was more of a bookish girl in private , rather than outgoing. Although she would go out every day, her most cherished moments would be when she was studying the ancient books of her house, trying to learn the mysteries of her ancestors.

Her father had favored her above all his children, as her mother died in childbirth. He even assigning Zhao Yun, Yi Ti's strongest warrior, as her protector.

But favoritism didn't stop her third brother from slaughtering her maternal family to capture her.

Deana was cursing her luck as she parried and stabbed another dothraki. Her guards almost perished, and there were more dothrakis coming.

'So, this is where it ends? I guess I can take a couple more of them out before I lose my strength' She grabbed her sword tightly.

She looked at her maids and spoke calmly, " If you wish to die with dignity, take your lives after I die, these savages won't be able to dishonor you.'

Then she spoke to the remaining guards, " I apologize for making you follow me and die out here. I regret being not strong enough to prevent my family's death. Maybe if I was a better princess, I could have saved everyone." She bowed solemnly

One of the guards immediately protested , " We have been serving you since you were a child, princess . We couldn't be more proud of the woman you have become."

Another guard chuckled, " You would have made a better ruler than all of your siblings. Don't bow your head, princess. I can't imagine any other way to die than protecting you .

Her royal protector, Zhao Yun pulled her up and solemnly spoke, " I should be the one bowing. I promised the emperor that I would protect you. But it seems I have failed, princess. Please forgive me."

The maids also chimed in, " You have treated us very kindly, princess, even helped our families. We would rather die protecting you."

Daena smiled, despite the situation she was in. Blood was splattered all over her, some even her own. Yet that didn't diminish her beauty at all. She gently picked up the dragon egg from her bag.

Despite not being in fire, it felt surprisingly warm. As she stroked the egg, she dreamed of her ancestors. The once mighty overlords of the valyrian freehold, noble house Baelaerys.

They rode on dragons that could destroy nations, their size unrivalled by any other creature. The last feehold dragon, Arrax , was ridden by her great-great grandfather, who was away with his lover when it happened.

The doom of Valyria. A great empire of 5,000 years, destroyed within a single day. All its inhabitants dead within the ruins.

Princess Daena, despite her youth, bore the weight of centuries of legacy on her slender shoulders.

She was the last known scion of House Baelaerys, a Valyrian lineage that had once ridden dragons and walked as superiors among the mighty lords of the Freehold. "Our Fire burns eternal" Her house words.

Her house had fallen into obscurity after the Doom, clinging to their identity amidst the declining influence of the freehold .

Unlike other Valyrian descendants who pursued power and riches westwards, the last two members Baelaerys family sought to preserve the traditions of their ancestors and try to reawaken their fire magic.

The house's origin in Valyria is full of mystery. According to the Balaerys' themselves, their family was one of the founding families of Valyria and they often boast of the claim that the first ever dragon rider was from their house.

They were among the strongest houses in the Valyrian Freehold and possibly even the strongest.

The Doom of Valyria haunted Daena's thoughts often, especially now as she faced her own demise. The Freehold had been a sprawling empire of unmatched might, ruled not by kings but by the dragonlords—families bound to dragons and sorcery.

House Baelaerys was one such family, their dragons among the largest and most fearsome in Valyria. They had been scholars, warriors, and fire mages, with their lineage stretching back to the very foundation of the Freehold.

Arrax, the great dragon of her ancestor Aerion Baelaerys, had been one of the last great dragons .

Aerion himself had been away in Yi Ti with his lover Jaena, seeking the fabled Jade Compendium of Spells, when Valyria was consumed by fire and ash.

They returned to find only ruins, the empire of his birthplace obliterated in a single cataclysmic day. Aerion, Jaena and Arrax fled further east, finding refuge in Yi Ti, where the family integrated into the court of the Jade Emperors, albeit as foreigners with little true power.

Arrax perished a century later, the last embers of Valyria's draconic might fading into legend.

Daena's life in Yi Ti had been a blend of privilege and isolation. As the daughter of a Baelaerys mother and the Jade Emperor, her heritage was both her strength and her burden.

She grew up under the shadow of court politics, learning swordplay from Zhao Yun, the empire's mightiest warrior, and wisdom from her mother, who whispered the tales of Valyria's glory and the downfall of their house.

Her fascination with Valyria grew as she aged. She learned High Valyrian fluently, studied the ancient texts her family preserved, and spent hours gazing at the dragon egg that had been passed down through generations.

Unlike others in the royal family who viewed the egg as a relic, Daena believed in its potential. She felt its warmth, saw the faint shimmer of scales beneath its surface, and dreamt of what it could become.

The egg was more than a symbol; it was hope—a glimmer of the power her ancestors had wielded.

But hope was fragile in a world of ambition and betrayal. Her brother, the Third Prince, saw Daena not as a sister but as a prize.

When their father, the Jade Emperor, died, the fragile peace of Yi Ti shattered. Daena's resistance to her brother's advances led to the massacre of House Baelaerys, her kins slain as Daena escaped with Zhao Yun and a handful of loyal followers.

They fled westward, leaving behind the blood-soaked ruins of their ancestral estate.

The journey across the Great Sand Sea was harrowing. Pursued by assassins and soldiers, they endured blistering heat, scarce water, and relentless dangers.

Yet Daena's spirit remained unbroken. She fought alongside her protectors, her skill with the blade honed to deadly precision. Each night she held the dragon egg close, whispering to it in High Valyrian, praying it would hatch and grant her the power to reclaim her legacy.

Now, surrounded by Dothraki warriors, her situation seemed hopeless. Yet Daena stood tall, the very image of a warrior princess. Her silver hair, matted with blood and sweat, framed a face both fierce and beautiful.

Her violet eyes, sharp and resolute, betrayed no fear. The dragon egg in her hands was the last remnant of Valyria's might, and she refused to let it fall into barbarian hands.

As she prepared for what she thought would be her final stand, she couldn't help but remember the words of her mother: "Our blood is of old Valyria, Daena. Even in the darkest hour, a dragon never yields."

The Dothraki Sea, usually an endless stretch of calm grasslands, now bristled with tension. Daena stood at the front of her ragged entourage, sweat plastering her silver hair to her forehead as she clutched her sword.

Behind her, Zhao Yun twirled his spear with an air of bravado that was slightly undermined by the fact that his armor was being held together by sheer will and one stubbornly enduring strap.

"Princess," Zhao muttered as the Dothraki war cries grew louder, "on a scale of one to 'very bad,' how would you rate our current situation?"

Daena didn't look back. "If we're lucky, we'll be dead before they take the dragon egg."

Zhao Yun snorted. "Ever the optimist."

Back in Yi Ti, meanwhile, things were predictably spiraling. Armies clashed, cities burned, and alliances shifted faster than court gossip.

The First Prince's wife declared herself Empress Regent, much to the confusion of her hapless husband. The Second Prince tried (and failed) to broker peace.

The Third Prince issued a decree labeling all his siblings as traitors, prompting the First Princess to call him a "melon-headed tyrant." The Fourth Prince? Still chilling in Shu with zero interest in the throne. The second prince was busy securing the borders and gathering his army.

The Empire was tearing itself apart. And in the midst of it all, Daena Baelaerys, the one person who might have united the people, was stuck on a grass plain, facing an army of Dothraki.

Fate, as it turned out, had a twisted sense of humor.

The Dothraki horde thundered closer, a blur of braids, bells, and very shiny arakhs. Their khal, a particularly smug-looking man on a horse that seemed equally smug, raised his weapon and pointed at Daena like she was the main course at a feast.

Daena tightened her grip on her sword. "Ready yourselves. If this is the end, let's make it a memorable one."

Zhao Yun sighed. "Memorable for who? Us or the grass?"

As they felt the cold breath of death approaching, a loud roar unlike any other shook the canyons.

Daena and Zhao Yun both looked above as a massive shadow was casted from above. With a gust of wind and thundering crash, the dragon landed between them and the dothrakis.

A charming young boy of 13 Years jumped down from the gigantic beast with a grin. "Hello, friends!" He called out. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything important. Oh, wait—you were attacking these people. That's a little awkward."

**Present Time**

The Dothraki, realizing they were outmatched, fled in disarray, their horses kicking up dust as they galloped away. Daeron watched them go, resting FrostMourne on his shoulder. "That went well. No need for introductions, then."

He turned to the small group he'd just saved. Most of them were dead, Leaving the noble woman, her maids and her protectors. Their faces smudged with dirt and fear.

At the center of the group stood a young woman with silver hair and piercing violet eyes. She held a sword in one hand and, cradled in the other, what looked like a dragon egg.

Daeron blinked. "Well, that's interesting," he said, gesturing to the egg. "You're not hiding any more of those, are you?"

The girl, still catching her breath, stepped forward. "I'm Daena Laoshen of House Baelaerys," she said, her voice steady despite the ordeal. "And you are…?"

"Daeron Penndragon, ," he replied, offering a bow that was more playful than formal. "Dragon rider, aspiring conqueror, and, apparently, your very lucky rescuer. Pleasure to meet you, Princess."

Daena raised an eyebrow. "How did you know I'm a princess?"

Daeron smirked. "The Silver white hair and dragon egg was a clue. You have that royalty-in-distress look about you. Plus, you just confirmed it."

She rolled her eyes but couldn't help a small smile. "Well, Daeron Penndragon, it seems I owe you my life."

"Consider it a favor," Daeron said, waving a hand dismissively. "Though I wouldn't mind hearing your story. Dragon eggs and Dothraki skirmishes usually mean there's more going on than meets the eye."

Zhao Yun quipped, " Just like a young boy riding a beast of nightmares, acting as if it's pretty common ."

As they settled in for a makeshift camp to recover from the battle, Daena shared her tale of betrayal, exile, and the chaos in Yi Ti. Daeron listened intently, his mind already spinning with the possibilities of an alliance.

"Well," Daeron said when she finished, "it seems we both have a knack for causing trouble. Let's just say you're in good company. You can rest and figure out the future at my place in Pentos. I was leaving Essos anyway for a while."

Daena studied him for a moment before nodding. "I'll take you up on that offer , Daeron . But only if you tell me how you ended up here in the first place. Tell me your story."

Daeron stood up and spoke with a dramatic flair, "Well, it's a tale of bravery and hardship, will and determination. A bastard born from the crown prince, who decided not to be okay with his place in the world, and going on a journey to change it.

Losing friends, fighting bandits, travelling the lands and the sea to finally appear in the den of dragons, and claiming his true companion.And then going on an adventure across the sea to find all that life has to offer. He made friends and enemies, conquered and saved cities and became a prince of some ancient prophecy." He finished with a bow.

Acnologia was looking away , as if trying not to associate with him, while Daena looked at him with a deadpan stare, " Then why were you out here, in the middle of nowhere?"

"Ah," Daeron said, rubbing the back of his neck. "Let's just say I'm geographically challenged. But I like to think of it as fate leading me to new adventures."

The two shared a rare laugh, the tension of the day momentarily forgotten. In the shadow of Acnologia, a new alliance was born, one that neither Daena nor Daeron fully understood yet.

None. of them knew it would shape their futures in ways they could only begin to imagine, and change the very fate of this world.