Chapter 1: The Birth of Kirigan Royce

The year was 100 A.C., a year that would forever be etched in the annals of Westeros for the birth of a son—a son who would come to embody both the burden of his lineage and the struggles of a fractured house.

In the cold stone halls of Runestone, amidst the winds that swept across the Vale, Rhae Royce, the beloved daughter of House Royce, gave birth to her first child. Her chambers were filled with the sounds of anguish, but it was not the birth itself that caused her pain—it was the dire circumstances surrounding it. Daemon Targaryen, her husband, stood far away, his mind and heart occupied elsewhere. Their marriage had always been strained, and now, as Rhae's life ebbed away with every breath she took, Daemon's presence was a distant echo. He had never loved her, and his indifference had only deepened as time passed. The birth of his son, Kirigan, seemed to mean little to him—another royal duty, another heir in a line of Targaryens.

As the child's first cries rang through the halls, Daemon was not there to hold his son, nor did he care to. His mind was already consumed by his own ambitions and desires, none of which included the love or care of a child born from a marriage that had been little more than a political alliance. His eyes had always been on the throne, not on a newborn boy whose future would be shaped by his absence.

By the time the sun rose, casting its pale light over the Vale, Daemon Targaryen had already left the shores of Runestone. His feet had not touched the cold, stone floors since the moment he learned of his son's birth. He was gone—fleeing to King's Landing, as always, where his true ambitions awaited him. He left his wife's broken body behind and his son, now a child without the warmth of a father's love, to face the world alone.

Runestone, once a quiet keep in the Vale, became the place where young Kirigan would grow up. His mother's death left a hollow ache in his heart, one that would never fully heal. Raised by servants, with his mother's name on his lips and his father's absence at his back, Kirigan learned early on that the world had little kindness to offer a son with no dragon and a name steeped in blood and betrayal.

But it was not just Daemon's absence that shaped Kirigan—it was the loneliness of being the only Targaryen heir in a land of dragons that spurned him. He would grow up with only the distant memories of a father who never cared for him and the stories of a powerful house—his house—that could never truly be his. As the years passed, his hatred for Daemon grew, not just for his abandonment, but for the way his father had left him to bear the weight of his legacy alone.

And yet, in the absence of his father's love, Kirigan found something else: a fierce desire to forge his own path. The Vale, with its mountains and hidden valleys, became the cradle of his ambition. He would not be defined by the blood of his father or the legacy of House Targaryen. He would be his own man—one who would command respect from those who dared to look down upon him, one who would carve out his own destiny, no matter the cost.

The boy who had been abandoned by his father would rise to become the man who would change the course of history in the Vale. And Daemon Targaryen, the absent father, would one day regret the choice he made, for Kirigan Royce would prove that blood was not always the measure of a king.

But that was a story for another time. For now, the boy named Kirigan Royce, heir to Runestone, son of Daemon Targaryen and Rhae Royce, would grow up alone, but not helpless. His journey had just begun.