Chapter Text
Daenerys Targaryen watched as her children sparred in the courtyard. Ellaenyra was winning, much to her twin brother's dismay. The Queen chuckled at the expression on her son's face as his sister knocked the sword out of his hand.
Her twins were 19, and everything that the Queen had ever wished for. Tyraenor was a tall, strong boy, with his mother's silver-blond hair, and his father's steel grey eyes. Ellaenyra was a slim, striking young woman, as skilled with charm and grace as she was with sword and dagger. She was comfortable in riding trousers or fine gowns, and she had the violet eyes that came from a Valyrian bloodline, and her father's dark hair. Despite this, she often invoked her mother's image by way of dress and commanding presence.
Their dragons reflected the twins personalities. Starfyre, Ellaenyra's silver and white dragon, was as wild as his rider, and often caused trouble as a hatchling. While Tyraenor's dragon, Thuriac, was well behaved and serious. Starfyre was also more aggressive than Thuriac.
Tyraenor was more than happy to attend council meetings, and sit through long dinners, but Nyra wanted nothing more than to fly with her dragon. She'd often snuck out of her window, and gone down to the catacombs, where her mother insisted they keep the dragons at night, and flown Starfyre over the sleeping city.
"Nyra, Tyr, go clean yourselves up for breakfast."
"Yes Mother." Tyr said politely.
"Okay!" Nyra called. She turned to her brother. "Maybe you should try washing your hair too. You smell." She teased. Tyraenor rolled his eyes, and poked his sister in the ribs, causing her to giggle.
Nyra sat still as Kavi braided her hair. The Dothraki girl was her own age, and they had been close friends since the age of 8. Niri, Kavi's sister, was holding up garments for Nyra to choose from.
"I can choose my own clothes, Niri." Nyra pointed out, hoping her friend did not feel obligated to act like a servant.
"Yeah, but I just like to look at them."
Nyra laughed. "You can borrow whatever you like." She offered. Niri wrinkled her nose.
"Just because I like to look at them, doesn't mean I'll look good in them."
Kavi glanced at her sister. "Strange, that rule doesn't seem to apply to my clothes."
"But I look better in your dresses than you do." Niri said, causing Kavi to scoff in disbelief.
"That'll be the day."
Niri ignored the comment, holding up a silver necklace. "Did your man give you this?"
Malor, Nyra's lover, a tall, handsome boy of Westerosi descent, with blue eyes and dark hair, had indeed gifted her the necklace, and Nyra nodded.
Niri grinned. "He's so handsome, you are so lucky!"
"I am, aren't I." Nyra smiled.
Tyraenor walked to the dining hall with his sister. Her dark hair was done entirely in elaborately twisting braids, and she wore a simple white gown, with beads of pale blue glass sewn to the waist and neckline.
She glanced over at him with her violet eyes. "You are quiet, dear brother." She noted. "Is something the matter?"
"No, sweet sister, I was admiring your gown. A gift from mother?"
"Yes, she had it commissioned for me."
"It suits you very well."
"Thank you." They walked in silence for a moment, before Nyra spoke again. "So, what were you really looking at?"
"Your hair." Tyraenor laughed. "It was giving me a headache just imagining how it was done." He paused. "What made you realize that I was not just admiring your gown?"
"You were too polite." She laughed. "You're never that polite when it's just us."
"Nor are you, sister."
She giggled. "Ah, but what are twins for?" She mused. "Trust me, Tyr, if anyone else were to insult you the way I do, I'd beat him up."
"Same goes for you."
They shared an affectionate embrace, and entered the hall.