Hi! I watched House of the Dragon and felt compelled to write my first story, hope you like it. I even made an AI image to go with it!
The Dragonblood Princess
The young knight, Ser Edric, paced restlessly outside the grand chamber doors, his heart racing with a mixture of anxiety and anticipation. He was at Dragonstone, the formidable stronghold of House Targaryen, and the air was thick with the scent of sea salt and the distant, smoldering fires of dragon lairs.
Today was not just any day. Today, he would meet her – Princess Elaena Targaryen, the third sister of Aegon the Conqueror, a figure shrouded in mystery and allure in the songs and whispers of the realm. Ser Edric had heard tales of her beauty, matched only by her wit and skill in dragonlore, which were seldom spoken of but greatly admired.
As the youngest sibling, Elaena was said to be the most enigmatic of the Targaryen conquerors, her role in Aegon's campaign a subject of much speculation. Some said she was a master strategist, others whispered of her uncanny ability to commune with dragons, and yet, despite the rumors, she remained an enigma, her true nature known to but a few. She was yet to be seen outside of Dragonstone, and some, including Edric himself, thought her existence was but another false story spun around a wartime campfire about the mysterious Valyrian house.
Ser Edric's thoughts were interrupted as the massive doors creaked open. A royal attendant, garbed in the crimson and black of House Targaryen, gestured for him to enter. The tall, massive frame of the young knight dwarfed that of the Targaryen soldier, but somehow, he felt small and weak in the depths of the massive stronghold. With a deep breath to steady his nerves, Ser Edric stepped into the chamber, his armor clinking softly.
The room was vast and dimly lit, with high, arched windows that offered glimpses of the churning sea below. At the far end, seated upon a throne-like chair, was Princess Elaena, surrounded by a small group of female attendants. Her silver-gold hair cascaded over her shoulders, and her violet eyes seemed to hold the depth of the very oceans surrounding Dragonstone. Beside her, a miniature model of the Painted Table – the detailed map of Westeros – hinted at her involvement in her brother's grand designs.
Edric sharply drew breath as his gaze met the princess’, for he was in the presence of the most beautiful woman under the heavens. The stories didn’t do her nearly enough justice. After a few moments of his slack jawed awe, the princess playfully arched her delicate eyebrow, as if to nudge him into action. He composed himself and dropped to his knee with a thunderous thud of metal against stone.
"Princess Elaena Targaryen," Ser Edric began, his deep, strong voice steadier than he felt. "I come before you to offer my sword, my loyalty, and my life in your brother's quest to unite the Seven Kingdoms."
The princess regarded him with a gaze that seemed to pierce through his very soul, a slight smile playing on her lips. It was in that moment, under the weight of her stare, that Ser Edric realized his life would never be the same again.
“Ser Edric of House Yronfist, in the flesh.” She spoke, her voice as smooth and gentle as a summer breeze, and sweeter than a spoonful of honey. Edric slowly raised his eyes again, realizing suddenly that the princess couldn’t be much older than his own nineteen summers. “I heard great things about you. They say you fight with the strength and tenacity of five men, and that your word is as good as the oath of a Kingsguard. Is it true, what they say?”
“I’m just a simple soldier, my lady.” Edric said with a slight tremble in his voice. He was told that the princess invited him to Dragonstone by name after the most recent battle, but to hear her speak it made him tremble under his battle plate.
“No need to be humble, Ser Edric. I heard that in the thick of a losing battle you cut your way through the chosen men of an enemy commander, on foot, unhorsed him and made him yield to you, his army throwing down their weapons at the sight. You saved many men that day.” The princess smiled a pearly smile. “And earned my interest.”
“I am honored to serve you and your house, my lady.”
“Please, let us do away with pleasantries. I will call you Edric from now on, and I command you to call me Eleana. Understood?” The princess’ voice became jokingly stern, and she let out a small laugh, making the young knight slightly more at ease. “Get up, please, Edric. I want to get a good look at you.” He did as was commanded, standing up to his full height. Over six feet tall, broad in the shoulders but lithe like a mountain lion, he must’ve been a fearsome sight on the battlefield, though his rugged handsomeness wouldn’t be out of place at a queen’s side. “So formidable. So vigorous. Truly, a great knight stands before me. Such a rarity in the Seven Kingdoms.” She said wistfully. “Now, allow me to return the favor and let you get a good look at your liege.”
Her attendants, a group of pretty young women, exchanged quick glances and stifled a laugh. The princess stood up from her throne, threw back her fabulously stitched crimson cloak, and stepped into the golden summer sunlight that entered the chamber through the tall windows.
Edric had seen much in his short life, but he never saw anything like this before. Underneath her cloak, the princess was wearing an elaborate dress of black lace, leaving little to the imagination, exposing her cleavage and arms. Her bombastic breasts threatened to spill out of her racy corset, two massive orbs of alabaster flesh, heaving slightly with her every breath. Underneath her majestic bosom, a set of cobblestone abdominals paved the way down her bee-like waist, straining slightly with her every move as they worked hard to keep her powerful torso upright. And her arms…
Her arms were truly awe inspiring - powerful, almost monstrous in their girth and anatomy. The princess was peeled to the bone, with naught even an ounce of fat to cover her steely muscles, and it made every detail of her developed musculature dance under her skin in an orchestra of vascular striations. Prominent veins pumped across her bulging biceps even when relaxed and down her powerful forearms that ended in surprisingly small, almost dainty and delicate hands.
“Well, Edric? What say you of your princess? Am I what you thought me to be?” She spoke softly, walking towards him with the sultry grace of a professional dancer. Her delicate neck was connected to her massive shoulders by incredibly developed trapezius muscles, draped in a cascade of white gold hair.
“I… uh. Ahem.” Edric was completely lost for words, his mouth dry. He was utterly entranced by what he saw before him. His mouth moved without him making it, and he heard his words as if they were spoken by someone else, far away. “Truly, the blood of dragons flows in your veins, o goddess. The very heavens don’t hold anything as pure and awe inspiring as you.”
The princess stopped just a few paces away from him and threw her head back in a fit of pleased laughter. Every muscle on her body rippled as she did so, hypnotizing the knight.
“He’s blushing! Redder than a Dornish tomato!” Exclaimed one of the princess’ attendants to an uproar of laughter from the other girls, breaking Edric out of his trance. He glanced their way and now saw what he missed when he was fixated on the princess herself. Each woman in her entourage was clad in a skimpy, revealing dress, and each was displaying beautifully sculpted, muscular bodies themselves, each glistening with perfumed oils. The women seemed to have been gathered from across the Seven Kingdoms and the wider world in a cornucopia of hair and skin colors, heights and levels of muscular development, but each was more athletic and powerful looking than most knights that Edric had known. Although even then none of them could hold a candle to the princess’ utterly majestic physique.
“A warrior with the soul of a poet. I like you, Edric. But tell me, do you like me? Do you not fear a strong woman? I know your people can be very… conservative, and Valyrian traditions of vaer-thalas have not made it to these lands.”
“V… vaer-thalas?” Asked Edric, completely unaware to the extent of his own staring. His hungry eyes drank every inch of the princess’ body.
“I think the direct translation in your language would be… body-building. It is a time honored tradition among women of noble Valyrian houses, though it fell into some obscurity. I think the closest approximation in your culture is the youngest daughter of a lord joining the priestesshood - utterly devoting herself to a higher ideal, knowing that she is not due any inheritance.” Her last words, spoken slowly, carried a touch of venom. “To us, the ideal is the creation of the perfect body. Powerful. Sculpted. Beautiful. Flesh made steel.” She held up one of her arms, and slowly flexed as she spoke. Her arm exploded, growing ever larger, the top of her bulbous bicep splitting into a peak that would be right at home as the crowning jewel of a rugged mountain range. Edric was convinced he could not envelop the massive mound even using both of his large hands. “Do you want to touch it, Edric? I want you to know that it’s even harder than it looks.”
“I.. I dare not touch a person of royal blood, m-my lady…” Stammered the knight, something stirring deep inside him. A raging flame that threatened to consume him - a wave of passion that made him want to throw himself at the woman before him and worship her as a goddess made flesh. It took all of his willpower to remain himself - a proud knight, not a groveling manservant.
She laughed again and moved closer. He was surprised to see that she wasn’t that much shorter than him, and her presence was so much larger yet. Her eyes shone like gemstones, and he became completely lost in them. She smelled of sweet summer flowers, and he could almost feel her warm breath on his skin.
“A gentleman. It’s such a shame. It’s been an eternity since I felt a man’s touch, and I was really hoping you would stand up to the task, Edric. Very well. You are dismissed. Best of luck in the war, ser knight.” She turned around and started walking away.
Edric’s heart sank. He stood there for a few heartbeats, stunned, watching the young woman’s back. It was sculpted with such meticulous precision that he saw muscles on it that he never knew existed. Her lats flared like dragon wings, a set of erectors ran down her spine like the branches of a pine tree, and her triceps seemed both larger and harder than horseshoes. And below her back, under her long embroidered dress, there was something moving with her every step. Indistinct shapes of her backside and her legs were covered by the cloth, but they promised the young Ser Edric wonders beyond his humble understanding. The impossible wideness of her back and the miniscule girth of her waist produced a pronounced X shape thanks to her fertile hips, her buttocks seemingly belonging to a mare rather than a noble princess.
“Wait…” He muttered, taking a step forward and extending his arm towards the princess. “Please, princess… Eleana… forgive my insolence. Any man would be honored to be in your presence. I do not fear any battle, nor do I fear the strength of a woman of beauty such as your own.”
“Ah. I see. You may yet change your mind, Edric.” Eleana stopped and turned around. In her hands she held the young knight’s sword belt, the long, heavy blade resting in its scabbard. He looked down in utter amazement, and then back at the princess. “I have quick hands, Edric. And you seemed too distracted to keep an eye on your blade. Not very knightly of you, letting yourself be disarmed by a defenseless woman. Don’t worry, I won’t tell.” She drew the sword and dropped the scabbard to the ground, proceeding to swing the war blade around one handed in a couple of well practiced, smooth movements. The heavy steel seemed like light as a feather in her grasp. “Nice weapon. But you won’t be needing it here.”
She used her free hand to grab the blade by the end, not minding the sharp edge, and held it low. For a second, Edric was unsure what she was doing, but the sudden strain of her arms made it obvious. She let out a low growl, her beautiful face contorting in a predatory mask of effort. The flesh on her shoulders, forearms and biceps swelled in a monstrous most muscular pose, threatening to tear her silky smooth skin apart.
The knight watched in slack jawed awe as the blade started bending. The princess’ face changed color to red, teeth bared, brow furrowed, with thick veins appearing on her neck, chest and forehead. She looked like a goddess of war, as terrifying as she was beautiful. Finally, she let out a triumphant roar and the metal gave way with a loud crash, breaking cleanly in two. Edric couldn’t believe his eyes - it was over in maybe ten seconds.
“Phew. It was forged sturdier than I thought.” Eleana looked at the destroyed blade, her skin bejeweled with beads of sweat running through the deep ridges between her pumped up muscles. She let the tortured metal fall from her hands, clanging pathetically to the marble floor. The princess flashed a radiant smile at her guest and wiped her forehead with the back of her hand. Her breathing was slightly heavier from the strain, and her huge breasts traveled up and down with each mouthful of air. “I’m glad you changed your mind, Edric. I’m looking forward to getting to know you better.”
